#Netflix Narcos

[hausofmamadas]

SE LA ARRANCA A MORDIDAS | mystery of Amado's anonymous lady-hustlers, solved

⁂

Holy father who art in heaven, do I have some fucking cracked ass head-canon nonsense for us to👏🏽 day👏🏽 …………….. let’s get to it shall we??

so idk if anyone anyone being the largely nonexistent narcos fandom aka the void Im speaking into remembers that one scene from Narcos in S3 where sleazy!OG!Amado told that one story about those sex workers who robbed him blind, mid-mamadita?

anyone ..... no?

dwdwdw that's okay bc I brought some visual aids to assist in our collective remembrance of this glorious occasion

⁂

The scene starts like this: 👇

Okay, yeah, right? legendary? legendary. just truly legendary behavior skfjskj on all fronts. but the identities of these social justice warriors— no wait activists— no wait, crusad— er no, patriarchy demolishers? iconic crimies with a penchant for for mid-fellatic felonies like armed robbery have been completely anonymous thus far.

…………… until now.

Bc as always, Narcoverse papis Doug Miro, Andrés Baiz, and Carlo Bernard, never fail to fill in the blanks except when they do cause Griselda left a lot to be desired and this is arguably the best ep of the show which, yeah. it’s never ideal when the best ep of a 6ep limited series is the 2nd one si me entiendes😬😬😬 but we digress because im 99.99999999999999% sure if these two sex workers from Griselda aren’t also the two legends who hustled Amado’s dick money out his pants pockets without having to fire so much as a single shot, I’m fairly certain they’re at least inspired by and carrying the torch aka bottling and distilling that Big Dick Energy to perfection of those brave women.

What gave me this idea? So glad you asked dear reader you didn’t but we’ll just pretend you did cause this my haus KEKW…. No like even I rolled my eyes at my own self for that but i couldn’t refrain either.

It all happened when I was nursing my new obsession with a one, Mr. Darío Sepúlveda a name I would most certainly believe to be fucking fake were he not an irl human bean.

👇👇 THIS slice of sweet, cherry pie right tf here

And I stumbled upon this one specific part, where the look on this chick’s face is SO FUCKINGKDHDHDGWVE SIMILAR to Amado’s face, when he’s explaining 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇how the burgling commences when the gurgling is interrupted by with an uncomfortable silence, as this chick proceeds to, hog still in mouth, cease any and all throat activity and fuckingskdfjskl just stare. up. at. him.

all 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

Like tell me homegirl’s face here👇👇 👇👇 doesn’t look just like it????????????

YOU CANTSJSHSJSHWUS YOU cANT. EVIDENCE IS IRREFUTABLE.

Anyway. Movingright along.

So, if aforementioned homegirl is the 🙇🏻‍♀️ from la historia del grande señor de los cielos, then that makes this ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️ ... homegirl’s accomplice

with the👇👇sidearm

and like the general only slightly subtle "I eat dicks like urs for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a midnight snack" vibes that this duo is serving throughout but esp below bc never will I ever not refer to a fuckboy as mancito from now until I'm in my grave alsdkjfa like MANCITO. THE WAY SHE SAYS IT WITH SUCH ALSKDJFKS CONTEMPT, CAN YOU STAND IT????? makes it so clear in my mind's eye how they could 100000000000%% be the unnamed heroes thieves from Amado's little story

also full 180 just on the low but can we all moment of silence for this 👇👇 FUCKINGSDLDFJ LOOK ON DARIO'S FACE WHEN SHE CORRECTS HIM, "quien te dijo eso? ... un mancito?" LIKE HE FUCKIGNSLDFKJSLKJ KNOWS, HE KNOWS HE HAS ERRED ON THIS PATH, HE KNOWS HE CANNOT PASS GO, CANNOT COLLECT 200 DOLLARS AND HE HAS THE GOOD SENSE TO BE GRACIOUS ABOUT IT AND IMAS;DFLIJA;LWEJF;KAJWE;FAKJ; SFUCKINGS DFKLJSLDF JA;K CRYING, SCREAMING, THROWING UP, INCONSOLABLE. LIKE LOOK. AT THIS. OKAY, THAT A MAN, NO MANCITO

*smacks own face, jiggles head back and forth, takes deep breath* anyway.... back to the story

and this is where this prob super unhinged really solidifies bc let's join hands class and pledge alliegance to the most impressive and noteworthy alpha but in the most non-cringe way assertion of dominance I have ever fucking witnessed in all my days. Like, legit the next time i'm into a dude the way i say this like it's not an 'if' bc RIP to my love life lbr fuck all that playing coy, fuck all that flirting. We just gonna get right to the point bc imma climb all over his lap, purr in his face, and ask about his hobbies like it's the 1978 equivalent of a Hinge profile SKSKKSK

and the next time I am spurned I will absolutely grab his junk in a naked hahahaksdjfk grab for a proper leash power to gain the upper hand in the situation and shame any and all menfolk who claim to not like me bc I'm not their 'type.' which like sksjsjsjs admittedly poor Dario just said that as a pretense to get the chisme from the chick who hates Grislenda bc the look of unconcealed regret on his face when Mistress Mamma Crotch Snatcher Morton gets up seems like a good indicator he would've paid to play with his balls

BUT LIKE SIDE BY SIDE WITH AMADO GETTING TO THE metaphorical CLIMAX bc I sincerely doubt they let him bust, mid-robbery OF HIS STORY, CAN WE NOT SEE HOW CLEARLY THESE TWO WOMEN WERE THE ONES WHO JACKED AMADO OFF– NO WAIT THEY DECIDEDLY DID NOT DO THAT ALL OF AMADO’S SHIT, LIKE CAUGHT PAPI WITH HIS ACTUAL PANTS DOWN SKSJSB

and lest any of us were convinced that Lady "Hijueputa Mandona Esa" who hates Griselda wasn't the one holding the gun on Toque, telling Amado she's gonna have her friend chew clear through his disco stick like some froot by the foot, please refer to exhibit B here ☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️where she's manspreading for jesus in these fucking hot pants. I mean try to tell me that ain't power. c'mon

AND THEN THE WAY SHE FUCKINGSLDFKJSL HUSTLES DARIO FOR EXTRA CASH, ALL "you gotta pay me more than that pittance bc yeah, she were a mouthy bitch but I didn't hate her that bad" ensuring he had no choice but to leave a tip, just like our pobre mujeriego, himbo extraordinaire, Sleazy!OG!Amado

And if this isn't the most iconic reminder to tip your servers, folks which everyone should be doing already I truly don't know what is.

═

taglist: @ashlingnarcos @tofuwildcard @narcolini @drabbles-mc

[marvelwitchergilmore]

To Shitty Days and Shitty Families

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader - Your parents come to Columbia to visit you at work only they seem to be more interested in your personal life than they do your work. 

Disclaimer: Shitty families, patriarchy I suppose. Swearing, angst, ideology that women are only fit for marriage- reader argues against this point. Reader stands up for herself, Javi talks with her folks when she leaves. 

You had been dreading it all day since first listening to your answering machine that morning. And everyone could see it in you. Steve had taken one look at you as he stood outside the complex kissing goodbye to Connie and knew something was wrong. 

“You look like someone just shot you.” Connie added. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I-I’ll see you at work.”

By the time you pulled up to work, you spent half of the day bouncing your leg under the desk as you tried your best to fill out the usual paperwork and the only time you said what was going on, out loud, was when you were stood on the steps of the Embassy with Peña as he smoked his cigarettes. Despite you having a habit of removing them from him, he still continued to smoke. 

“Who are you looking for? You look like Steve when he goes duck hunting.”

“My parents are coming.”

“To the Embassy.”

“The Embassy, Columbia. Here. Wherever.”

“And you’re worried because…”

“Because they haven’t talked to me in almost three years and now are coming to Columbia.”

“That’s nice.”

“No. No it’s not.”

Peña nodded. “Okay.”

“If you see a cab pull up, shout for me, okay?”

“Sure.” Peña could see the worry in your eyes as you searched the parking lot once more before turning around and heading back inside. 

Only, Peña wasn’t outside when they turned up. So, instead, they walked inside, found your desk and stood there, examining the mess and tutting. 

“She could never keep anything tidy. Always messy. Always the family mess.”

“Can I help you?” Steve asked as he approached. 

Somehow, from the time it took you walking from the evidence room after hearing the familiar click of heels to reaching your desk, your mother had already seemed to have painted herself a saint to Murphy and Peña. 

“Where is she anyway? You know, she could never keep time in high school, either. Always marked late.”

Both Peña and Murphy highly doubted that since you were always early - to everything. Hell, you’d get into work an hour earlier than them. But, they decided not to question your mother who already seemed distracted in scanning your entire body with her eyes making you suddenly aware of your skin and one of the many reasons why you were glad you left the states. 

Your mother awkwardly moved in to hug you, making the whole thing a clear spectacle for onlookers. “You’ve gotten thicker, dear.”

“Mom.”

“Oh, just a jest, dear. Just a jest.” your mother laughed. “I’ve just met your bosses.”

“They’re not my bosses, mom. They’re my partners.”

“Oh.” That seemed to be the first shock to your mom. “Well, they’re handsome all the same and since you all seem to be friends, I’ve invited them to dinner with us tonight. And you’ll be bringing your wife, no doubt Agent Murphy?”

Steve nodded, though the look from you made him question if he should have said yes. 

“Wouldn’t miss meeting your parents for the world, Agent.” Steve smiled at you. 

“I’ve left you a note on your desk on where to meet us. If you can find it amongst this mess. And 7 o’clock sharp, dear. I know what you’re like for time keeping. It was nice to meet you boys. See you all soon.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole and take you to Hell now.

Far too soon for your liking, 7 o’clock rolled around. 

Murphy and Connie were already there with your parents, sat in the very back of the restaurant, glasses of wine just poured. Peña must have only just arrived as he was still standing and seemed a little out of breath as he made his way round, kissing your mother’s cheek, Connie’s and shaking your father’s hand whilst he shook Steve’s shoulder. 

“Late again, I see.” your mother said as you finally reached the table. 

“By two minutes, mom. I had to find parking.”

“Never mind, you’re here now, finally.” Your mom seemed to stress the word ‘finally’ before turning to Steve and Connie. “Shall we order? I know it takes my daughter a while to choose what she wants. She’s always been like that with her life.”

You tried your best to keep your breathing steady. “Mom.”

“What?” your mother laughed. “Oh, I’m just joking, honey. You know that.”

You looked to your napkin covered plate, trying to subtly take in deep breaths. “You okay?” 

You looked to your left as leaned into Peña who, for the first time in a while, seemed…concerned. You faked a smile as best as you could. “I’m fine.”

“So, Peña.”

“Javi, please.”

“Javi.” your mother smiled. “You’re working with Steve to catch Escobar? Oh, that must be so dangerous. But, I’m sure someone like yourself is able to handle it.”

“He works with me, too, mom.” you pointed out only, she seemed to ignore that. 

Javi looked at you for a quick moment before turning back to your mother. “It’s dangerous for anyone being an American in Columbia.”

From across the table, Connie shot you a look which, in total honesty, you didn’t fully know if you returned it. All you wanted to do was get over this meal and go home. 

“I am famished.” Connie announced. “What are we all eating?” she scanned her eyes over the menu and you tried your best to thank her telepathically across the table. 

“Well, I’m sure my daughter is still deciding.”

“Actually, I know what I want, mom.”

“Oh, well…that’s a change.”

By the time the waiter came around and took your order, your mother trying to order and loudly shouting Spanish in a very clear American accent, you were ready to leave. 

You gave your order, your voice at a normal decibel, your Spanish rolling off the tongue, your mother looked to you slowly. “No need to show off, dear.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Darling, just because your mother doesn’t have the best Spanish, doesn’t mean you should make her look stupid.”

“What? I-”

Before you could even think about finishing your sentence, your mother turned to Connie. “Constance, dear.”

“Please, call me Connie.”

“Of course, honey.” your mother smiled. “Tell me, what is married life like? I remember when I married my dear, dear husband. Oh, I was so happy.”

Your mother continued to ramble about her wedding day - a story you had heard every day of your life before you left to join the DEA in Columbia. Meanwhile, you took a large gulp of your wine trying to convince yourself it was whiskey from Peña’s desk drawer and instead of being sat in a candle-lit restaurant, you were back at your desk, drowning in work files all the while the alcohol burned your throat. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you whispered under your breath and in return you felt Peña’s hand lay itself on your thigh. 

“Just give me a signal and I’ll get us all out of here. I think Steve is about to throw himself out of the door.”

“I wouldn’t blame him.”

Peña smiled at you before turning back to the rest of the table where you found your mother still talking. 

“Oh, and when my Rosie got married? Oh, that was the happiest day of my life!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“Oh, dear, you know what I mean.”

“It’s not kind to poke fun at your mother, darling.” your father added. 

“But it was. It was the happiest day of my life seeing my darling daughter get married and have a good, strapping man on her arm.”

“There’s more to life than just getting married, mom.” This has been your argument your entire life. Your mother always wanted you to get married and the day you said you were leaving for Columbia instead of announcing your engagement to your now ex-boyfriend…that was a long day. 

“Don’t argue with your mother, darling.”

You took another deep breath and another gulp of wine. 

“Don’t drink too much, dear. We wouldn’t want you to embarrass the family anymore.”

It was still your first glass. And it, somehow, miraculously, remained half full. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, look, here comes the food.” Connie announced as the waiter approached. 

Thankfully, this deterred the conversation for fifteen minutes whilst the waiter handed the correct dishes to each person. Your mother thanked them rather loudly once more. 

“Mom, they’re not deaf. You don’t have to yell.”

Your father called your name. “Don’t be rude to your mother.” he scolded. 

“Oh, no, dear. Don’t worry. She’s just on one tonight.” your mother replied before sitting back down and looking at your plate in disgust. “Are you really going to eat all of that?”

It was a normal sized bowl with chicken soup and bread. Except, the way your mother spoke to you made it sound as if the bowl was a sharing size and was filled with nothing but crap. 

“You know, I could have ordered for you.”

“I don’t want salad, mother.”

“Well, forgive me for trying to look out for the well-being of my child.”

“Why don’t you just focus on yourself and Rosie and I’ll be completely fine.”

It was now that your mother looked to Connie, Steve and Javi. “I am so sorry about her. She gets like this sometimes. I told her, if she married the man she had, she wouldn’t be this uptight and worried.”

“I didn’t want to marry Daniel, mom. You know that.”

“I understand you like to rebel against me and make me out as the bad guy, y/n. But, one day, you will realise I’m just doing what is best for you.”

“Best for me or best for you, mom?”

“Now, what exactly are you excusing me for, dear?”

“Darling, don’t pick a fight here. I understand you like to make a scene but-”

“Make a scene?”

“She was always dramatic as a kid,” your mother explained to the rest of the table. 

“Mom, please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here.”

“See,” your mother tried to point out. “Even at Rosie’s wedding, she tried to stop it.”

“Because she wasn’t sure if she wanted to get married!” you raised your voice a little. 

“But she did! And now she had two beautiful little children and a wonderful home and a caring husband. Don’t shout at me just because you wanted her life. Because you could have had it.”

“You think I want her life? Sat at home looking after two children whilst her husband flies from state to state and barely knows his own children?”

“Maybe we should-” Connie went to stand but your mother put her hand out to her. 

“No, dear, please, sit down.” your mother smiled. “She’s just annoyed that her life isn’t how she thought it would be.”

“I didn’t want to marry him, mom.” you repeated. “Can you hear me?”

“Just eat your soup, dear.” your mother scolded. “There is no need to embarrass me any further.”

“Your mother is right, darling. Why don’t you eat your soup? If you're not happy with it, your mother will happily order you a salad.”

“I said I didn’t want a salad.”

“Remember dear, a moment on the lips, forever on the hips.” one of your mother’s favourite quotes. “And from here I can already see some of the fat building. You know you’ll never get a husband looking like that or doing what you do.”

“I don’t want a husband!” you yelled. “I didn’t want to marry Danny or stay in America. You! You wanted me married off so you could brag to your friends that your daughters got married before Carrie’s. You’d rather have me marry someone I never loved, someone who would rather sleep with every woman on legs in the whole fucking city, including the darling daughters of your friends, than have me join the police academy and come to Columbia.”

“Dear, lower your voice. People are staring!” your mother scolded through gritted teeth. 

“I did something with my life, mom.” you pointed out. “Any parent would be proud if they’re kid was happy. But no, not you. You’d only be happy if I lived by your rules and followed your footsteps to a life of complete fucking boredom.”

“You should watch your mouth, young lady.” your mother warned. “No one wants a woman who has a mouth like you.”

All you could do was let out a laugh whilst holding back your anger as best as you could. “You know what, mom. I-I can’t do this. Just…just go home. Tell Rosie I’m alive or tell her nothing. I wouldn’t want to be an embarrassment to you anymore than I already have. Sorry, guys.”

You apologised quickly to your teammates before you threw your napkin onto the table and grabbed your jacket. You laid a couple bills on the table before walking away. The waiter must have watched the whole thing because, as you made your way to the exit, he gave you a bittersweet smile. 

“I’ll wrap your food up and have Popsy send it over.”

“That’s alright,” you replied. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

With that, you left the restaurant and headed to your car before driving away.  Meanwhile, back at the table, Steve, Connie and Javi all sat in shock. You never revealed much about your family but whatever they had just witnessed was the last thing they thought they’d ever expect. Even as it happened, none of them could comprehend it. 

“On that note, we’re going to take off.” Steve announced standing up before asking the waiter if they could have the rest of their food packed to-go. However, Javi remained seated. Connie leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before Steve shook his hand and they both left with the brown bag in their hand. 

“I’m-”

“You should be proud of her, you know.” Javi said before confirming your name so they knew 100% completely who he was talking about. “Before she came down here, we weren’t really getting anywhere. But within days of her arrival, she had most of that place in order. We caught plenty of people and stopped a £3 billion worth shipment of coke from getting into the states because of her.”

“She gets that from me.” your mother said, but Javi just…smiled. 

“Maybe. But I highly doubt it.” your mother’s face dropped and your father was about to argue back, but Javi cut him short. “Who she is…that can’t be taught. That’s learned, from first hand experience. Sure, she’s not married, but she is respected. But a shit ton of people. Hell, if she tells the Ambassador not to do something, they listen to her. Because she’s good at her job. Just because she’s not you, does not give you the right to see her as nothing more than a problem to be solved or an embarrassment. She’s not lucky to have you two as parents, but you are lucky to have her. To be able to call her and talk to her and know her. Don’t take her for granted because sooner or later, you won’t even have the privilege of calling her your daughter.”

“Are you threatening us, son?”

“No.” Javi shook his head, standing. “I’m saying if I was her, I would have dropped you years ago. Instead, you get to call her your daughter. But I doubt even now that you have that opportunity. Like she said, there’s more to life than getting married. And she’s living proof of that. Don’t ignore her like I expect you have been doing her whole life, just because she’s not the living poster girl of your planned out life.”

With that, Javi laid his own share of the bill on the table before walking outside, lighting a cigarette and walking to his car. He doubted you would have gone home in case your mother came looking for you to yell at you some more. And he was right in his thinking because, as he did a tour of the Embassy parking lot, he found your car parked alone. He parked a couple spots down from you before squashing the smoke under his shoe and walking inside. From there, he found you sat at your desk no longer dressed in the dinner dress but rather a pair of black trousers and a black shirt. So, you’d been at the gun range. He could see the oiled cuticles of your fingers as you reached for your disposable coffee cup. The hair that had rested in soft curls was now thrown up into a messy ponytail that held itself up under the command of your bobble. 

What he guessed was that through stress, some of the hairs had fallen from your head and haphazardly framed your face under the orange light of your desk lamp. 

On your desk, he could see the soft trail of smoke from a cigarette. You weren’t a smoker. Hell, you’d pulled enough cigarettes, both lit and unlit, from his own lips before to stop him from smoking. So, when you didn’t do it that morning as he stood beside you on the steps of the Embassy, that should have been his first warning about how bad the day would go. 

Though he couldn’t blame you. If he were you, he probably would have gone through 2 packs of cigarettes by now. 

He watched you as you took a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke fill your lungs until they were over spilling. Even then, you took in some more air as you moved it away from your lips, letting it rest lazily between your two fingers as you rested the rest of your head against your hand. 

Slowly, you let the smoke release itself from your lungs before you took another deep breath of fresh air this time, and opened your eyes. 

“Don’t judge me.” you told Javi when you spotted him standing at the steps of the office. But, he just smiled and walked closer, going first to his desk, before bringing his bottle of whiskey and two glasses with him to your desk. 

“Oh, no judgement here.” Javi told you before sitting down across from you and pouring a decent amount of liquor into each glass. 

Handing you one, you thanked him. “To shitty days.”

“And shitty families.” you laughed before clinking the glass together and taking a rather large gulp and letting it burn your insides as it made its way down. 

Javi sat back in silence for a few moments watching you. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” you answered honestly. “Part of me wants to scream, the other wants to cry and the rest…just is thankful it’s over.”

“Have they always been like that?”

“My whole life.” you said. “Rosie was their perfect little girl. Always listened. Did everything without question. Danced perfect ballet at her recitals. Would always sing beautifully and could quote Shakespeare off the cuff.”

Javi furrowed his brows. “I’ve heard you speak Shakespeare. English and Spanish. You put the local production to shame.”

You narrowed your eyes a little, “Not as well as Rosie.”. 

Taking another drink, you mirrored Javi by leaning back in your own chair. “God, I remember being so jealous of her as a kid. She was always the teacher’s favourite. She could never put a foot wrong. I’d make one spelling mistake in my English essay in 5th grade and they called in my parents telling them I was distracted. That I was slipping from my education. My mother grounded me for a month and gave me a lecture every day about how Rosie was this perfect child and why couldn’t I be the same? You know, I never got into trouble at school. I got good grades, I listened to all of my teachers, I even won the local baking competition.”

“You bake?”

You smiled. “I bake. I entered it without my mom’s permission and got my teacher to sign off on it. But, God, you should have seen the look on all the parent’s faces. “She only won because they feel sorry for her.”, and then the kids started saying the same thing to me at school. The only time where I wasn’t compared to my sister was in the Academy. It was the first time I felt I belonged somewhere.”

You took another deep breath, “Jesus, you don’t want to hear about this.”

But Javi shook his head. “No. Continue.”

You looked in his eyes for a moment, seeing if he was being serious. And, once you realised he was, you slowly sat back again and continued. 

“So, you joined the academy?” Javi asked, helping you pick up where you left off. 

You nodded a small thanks and continued. “I joined the Academy and,” you laughed a little, “when my mom found out, she went ballistic. God, it was like I shot her puppy. Or Rosie, godforbid. So you can imagine, when I turned up one afternoon and told her I was moving to Columbia instead of going house hunting with Danny, - who I had broken up with, by the way, six months earlier - you can imagine how she took it. Said I was just jealous and running away because my sister was getting married. That I just wanted the spotlight for myself but the biggest thing was…I didn’t. I just wanted to disappear. I didn’t want people’s eyes on me or have a spotlight on my name. Any time it was, it was always because I was a disgrace to the family name. That I wasn’t Rosie. But…on her wedding day, I realised….I realised I wasn’t jealous of her. In fact, when she came and found me and asked me if she was doing the right thing…I felt sorry for her. But that didn’t last long because at the drop of a hat, when I said she didn’t have to marry him, that she could come with me or I could get her a plane ticket to wherever she wanted, she accused me of wanting to ruin her wedding and her life. That I was jealous of her because I couldn’t find someone to love me the way her husband does her. And, that mom was right. That I would never find anyone because what person in their right mind would want to love someone like me.”

There was other stuff that you didn’t mention to Javi, about what else your sister had said and what your mother clearly agreed with. But, after the meal tonight, he could take a pretty good guess. 

“So, what did you do?”

You took a breath, forcing the tears back into your eyes. “I did what she asked for that day. I sat out of the wedding. Sat at the back. Stayed out of everyone’s way to avoid ruining her wedding. And halfway through the reception, I left. I didn’t even say goodbye. I thought about it, but I knew they wouldn’t have cared. They were in their own happy little world that didn’t need or even want me. So, I grabbed my bags, hailed a cab and got on the first flight into Columbia.”

“So, when you landed-”

“2 hours later, I was here starting work.” you confirmed. 

“Did anyone know?”

“No.” you said, sitting back up and laying your glass on your desk. “Until a couple hours ago, no-one knew what my parents were like. I’m just…I’ll be glad when they’re back in the states. They didn’t even tell me they were coming and I woke up at 4 on the dot. I didn’t know why. I never usually do and then, an hour later, she left a message on my machine saying she was getting on her second flight and that she’s already arranged to have a cab pick her up from the airport since she knows that I’d probably still be in bed - the last time I was in bed past 8 o’clock I was on a flight to Miami.”

After a while of talking with Peña as he asked you questions about your childhood, he looked at the clock that read a quarter to midnight. “Come on, we better go home.”

“Javier Peña, in bed before 2 am? Is the world truly falling apart?”

Javi smiled at you, grabbing your jacket for you. “Come on, I’ll drive us home.”

“But you’ve had a drink-”

“I’m still under the limit.” Javi assured you. “Come on, let's go.”

By the time Javi pulled up outside of your apartment block, he locked his car behind him before you both went off in separate directions to your own apartments. 

“Peña?”

He looked back from his door. 

“Thank you, for today. It meant a lot, seriously.”

Javi smiled at you before unlocking his door and opening it up. “Anything for you, hermosa. Goodnight.”

“Night,” you smiled back before entering your own home and closing the door behind you. 

[xxhypersomnia]

NEW LOCKSCREEN AVAILABLE IN STORIES & TUMBLR 🖤

All edits watermarked 💧 please use/share/credit

[mf-st4rb0y]

💛♥️

[arklaytears]

Drowning in Desire [Pt.1?] (Javier Peña x F! Reader)

t/w: references to escobar, sexual thoughts, i think that’s it?

a/n, i am so fucking rusty at writing and had an idea that i’m not sure is good.  tell me what you guys think, and maybe i’ll practice writing some drabbles to get back into the swing of things?  i want to continue this story with the idea i have, but i’m not sure if it’s good enough rrraaaaa gotta love having that good ol’ anxiety!

·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥·̩̩̥＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Javier looked up to the Embassy, knowing he was going to be getting an earful and then some for being late… Again.  Though, who could blame him, what with the drinking he had done the night before.  Decompression is very important when you’re trying to take down a new drug lord!  Honestly, the hangover that stung behind his eyes definitely was punishment enough if anyone were to ask him, and they wouldn’t.  The DEA agent flicked at his lighter, watching it glow with a bright orange flame as he brought it to the cigarette that hung loosely from his lips.  Taking in a deep inhale, holding the smoke in his mouth for a moment, he let out a quick exhale as he marched up the steps to what was going to be more than likely an impossibly grueling work day. Though, what he didn’t expect as he had moved inside, was a woman, one he’d never seen.  The agent’s eyes looked over you, raking along the curves of your body as your black pencil skirt hugged along your hips tightly, the sky blue button up you wore tucked into it so comfortably, but his eyes couldn’t help but follow the slope of your breasts.  Honestly, he was gawking, and he was so damn lucky that you were mid-conversation with none other than Steve Murphy.  The conversation seemed casual enough, and it was honestly a perfect opportunity to meet a new and attractive co-worker. Peña took another deep inhale of his cigarette, pulling it away from his lips as he casually sauntered over to the familiar face of Murphy.  Albeit, a little too casual as he slung his arm around the taller of the two’s shoulders, like they were truly the best of friends. Smiling up to him with a shit eating grin, “Mornin’ Murphy..”  His voice carried, the cigarette still aglow as he held it on the side of the other agent’s face, still wrapped around his shoulders.  Though, Murphy seemed to meet him with annoyance, most definitely over his tardiness.  But, Javier was not one to let the man get a word in, he saw as the blond took in a breath ready to chew him out, and he turned his head to the new face, his grin dropping to something more friendly.  Approachable.  “Nice to meet you…”  The agent’s voice trailed, awaiting for you to respond to him with something.  He peeked at you behind his orange sunglasses, ones he sported often, doing his best not to let his eyes wander to the small bit of skin exposed between the few buttons left undone on your blouse. The name he heard wasn’t from you, it was from Steve, picking up Javier’s arm and dropping it back with irritation as he watched him fumble with his cigarette for a moment.  Your name, he most definitely hadn’t heard it, especially around the office, but he couldn’t even finish his thought as his partner continued to speak.  “New face of the Embassy, at least to anyone looking to come inside.”  Maybe his asking about you had saved him from the wrath that Steve could rain upon him, though only momentarily as the lanky blond turned now to face him.  “Weird though, you’d think that you would have met her at the welcome party held this morning, yet I didn’t see you there..”  Snarky as he could be with Peña, he crossed his arms across his chest, brow quirking with his annoyance. You gave a small laugh, covering your mouth as you did, and it definitely didn’t go unnoticed by Javier.  Fuck, how he wanted to hear you laugh at something he said instead of at his expense. Among other things he’d love to hear come out of your pretty mouth.  “Hey, hey, hey!  Give me some credit!  You don’t know how crazy my morning was!”  Truly, it was nothing more than his limbs tangled in his sheets, a pillow over his head as he did his best to drown out the droning of his dreadful alarm.  Pushing his sunglasses down, he peeked over at Steve with the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.  His free hand moved to place the smoke between his lips again.  Quickly moving his hand to make a small ‘X’ over his heart,”Te lo juro, Murphy!” His antics were met with an eye roll, and he gave Javier a sharp and loud pat on the back, one that definitely shook the other from his stature.  Then you spoke, and he swore, it was angelic.  “Okay, okay.. This has to be Agent Peña.”  You blinked at him, your eyes meeting his for the first time as you extended your hand, repeating your name to him.  Reaching out, he gave a crooked grin, giving a small nod as his large hand engulfed your own in the formal greeting. God he loved women, fucking adored them.  His mind was definitely not one appropriate for work this morning.  Surely added to by the hangover that swirled around his still aching head.  That and the office hiring a siren to work their front desk.  A mix of both! “Heard a lot about you, Peña.”  you spoke, your voice sheepish and quiet.  Though he wanted to hear you say his name again.  Please, even his last name rolled off of your shy tongue with a tone that sounded hypnotic. “Only good things I would hope.”  He retorted, but as your eyes avoided his you gave another one of those small laughs. Javier watching your cheeks dimple as you did. “If that will make you feel better, then yes, all good things.”  You spoke in between your giggles, turning as the loud ringing of the phone you were to be on top of took your attention from the conversation, much to his own despair. “Well, good to meet you both.  Let me not lose my job on day one.”  You said, quickly moving your body around the front desk, letting your weight gently drop against your swivel chair, pulling yourself close as your hand extended to the phone to place it gingerly against your ear, speaking in a sweet sing-song voice, one that definitely seemed as though it was practiced with time. Javier did his best not to ogle, and quickly he knew he wouldn’t be able to as Murphy tugged at his blue button up, pulling his collar toward the room the two men shared as an office.  “Barking up the wrong tree, she has someone.”  The blond spoke, matter of factly.  It was as if all the air was deflated from him, his body feeling as though it were limp as he continued to be pulled.  “Didn’t you see the ring?  Engaged.” As they progressed to their office, he sat against his desk, hearing it screech against the floor slightly under the shift in weight.  “To think that I would be a man that would-”  He said, putting out his smoke in the ashtray that sat toward the corner of his desk, his partner so rudely interrupting him, “I don’t need to think, I know.  You are a dog Javi, and you have to leave her alone.  Why don’t you hit up Freckles?  Get it out of your system.” The blond spoke as his baby blues trailed over more of the Escobar case work, a smug smile across his face as he slouched forward.  The other day as they’d staked out, the all too easy to find ‘McPickle’, he had definitely said too much as the door was opened and he saw the familiar face of someone he’d.. Known.  A little intimately, albeit it was a pleasure house.  But, who could blame him!  It was all for casework, at least that is what he’d say if anyone were to ask him for more pressing details. “Cállate, Murphy.”  He spoke, grumbling it almost as he flicked his burnt out cigarette butt in his partner's direction before skulking to sit in his own chair, looking over his desk with all too much paperwork scattered atop it.  What a shitty fucking morning. ·̩̩̥＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥ ·̩̩̥＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥ ·̩̩̥＊•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊·̩̩̥ The day continued as normal, though a slow day as the two agents found themselves up to their ears in paperwork and case files they needed to read over and over and over again.  Javier felt his eyes growing weary, looking over to the clock as it slowly ticked by, tantalizing him that he could go home and finally sleep off his headache within mere minutes. “Fuck it, I’m heading out early.”  He said, knowing he could work his way out of a lashing from his boss the next day if she really gave a shit about those two minutes. “No way do you come in late, and go home early.  If I tried any of that shit the Ambassador would have my head for dinner.”  Steve spoke, stretching his arms behind him as he leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath before leaning back in.  “One of these days it’s going to catch up to you Peña.” He waved him off, having really no energy to bicker, wanting nothing more than to return home and flop into his bed and kiss this arduous day goodnight.  Javier walked out of their office, closing the door behind him gently so as to not invoke anymore wrath from Murphy, and found himself heading toward the front.  Catching his eye immediately was you.  You in that damned fucking skirt, leaning over your desk to gather your own things for the day it seemed. Pushing a small stack of papers into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder, checking it at your side before turning to leave.  God, he could eat you alive.  Maybe Steve was right, he was an absolute dog, but was it not acceptable for a man to appreciate art when it’s directly in front of him?  Is it so wrong to admire from a comfortable distance?  Then he remembered what was told to him, ‘Didn’t you see the ring?  Engaged.’ Well, now was as good a time as any as he found himself walking a little faster, being sure to catch up with you and lean in over your shoulder with that friendly smile once again.  “How was the first day, newbie?” You jumped slightly on his approach, clutching to the leather strap that was crossed over your chest as he startled you from your scurry to make it outside.  It just made his grin grow even wider as his words left him. “Ah, it was definitely.. A day.”  You blinked, unable to keep your eye contact with him for long, which definitely didn’t go unnoticed by him.  He was quick to pick up your gaze moving to the clock above the door, then down to double check it with your watch.  You definitely seemed to be in a bit of a rush to get out of here.  Though, he was as well, so how could he blame you? “You’re allowed to say it was boring, hermosa.”  Speaking in a tone that dripped like honey as he spoke the pet name.  And he swears he all but died and was sent above as he saw the flush of pink rise to your cheeks as you definitely were at a loss for words.  Though not at all out of character for Javier unbeknownst to you, and as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear he noticed the small diamond ring that sat pretty on your delicate fingers.  So Murphy wasn’t just trying to save all the beautiful women for himself. He had to hold back the sigh of disappointment that wanted to push itself from his chest. No sooner than you were seeming to muster up a response, the doors to the Embassy opened with a semi-loud bang.  The wood hitting the walls as a man wearing a flat cap, aviators, and a bright and all too loud flower patterned button up scanned the room.  Quickly marching over to the woman Javier was just speaking to, gripping at her upper arm tightly as he pulled her along.  “Apúrate, apúrate!”  He spoke, continuing to pull at her. Javier all but saw you cave in on yourself, his eyes watching over the scene in front of him as you deflated under the man's grasp and allowed him to pull you along.  The grip he’d held on you looked as though you were in a vice, and he watched as you looked back at him with apprehension and anxiety written all over your face. All he wanted to do was reach out to help, to tell this man to stop, but he didn’t know you like that.  Maybe this was something else, something between you and him.  It felt as though it would have been inappropriate to intervene. “See you tomorrow, Peña.”  You had said in barely above a whisper, as he saw you and this man disappear almost as fast as he’d arrived.  Yes, he didn’t do anything, he just stood and watched.  Even giving a small and pathetic wave as he’d watched you be removed from the office.  Yet, something was tugging at his brain, and he couldn’t get past it from the moment he’d seen the man he presumed was your groom-to-be.  Surely he’d seen enough shitty men in his life, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling. Why was he so fucking familiar?

[yesterdaylovedme]

F4M Discord RPs

Looking for the following:

Joel Miller x My OC or aged up Ellie

Javier Peña x My OC

Jack Daniels x My OC or Roxy

Din Djarin x My OC

Oberyn x My OC or Sansa

Gale or Astarion x My OC or Alfria

Please be able and eager to write at least 4 to 5 paragraphs. I use Nitrio and usually exceed that limit. A post every day or every other day is ideal but I'm happy to wait should delays arise and are communicated. Romance will be slow burn!

My discord: genkaichan

[hausofmamadas]

| To live and leave fast |

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Pairing: Andrea Nuñez x Horacio Carrillo

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober - Day 16 (+ a bit of Day 15 tbh)

Prompt: Day of Surprises (+ a smidge of Day of Absolute Filth) - create a fanwork that focuses on dreams (+ a smidge of character's moral corruption)

Word count: ≈ 2.3K

TWs: Canon-consistent violence, Real Big Sad, angst with some smoochin'

What was he doing here? He couldn’t answer her. The blankness of before was all he could conjure up and that vast emptiness set him on the edge of panic. okay sjsjs the way I told myself that I was gonna stop at 800 words and it becamekfjs this. So again, imsorryforeverything but uhh yea, I barely proofread this so the Spanish is prolly rough and so is everything else but hey! We can just blame it on it’s all a dream, right ….? Right??? Anyway, enjoy some shockingly non-antagonistic and sometimes tender back-and-forth btwn these two and probably the most ooc Carrillo to ever exist bc I’ve never written for him before. Idk why I’m so obsessed with this crackship but I am and it is what it is

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Her voice rang out, “So, tell me. How long do you really think you can go on like this?” almost in time with the flashing red light that cut through the half-broken blinds, filling the dank, dingy room.

Carrillo tried sitting forward from where he must’ve fallen asleep slumped against something, presumably the wall of someone’s living room. No, not someone’s living room. No one’s living room. Because the place was a mess, covered in old takeout wrappers from Tijuana’s finest dining establishments, broken glass, cobwebs, and dust that would’ve been more befitting of an ancient tomb than this place. The smell of vodka or maybe rubbing alcohol burned his nose but he couldn’t pinpoint where it might’ve been coming from.

Was he even still in Tijuana? Huh. Well, that would have to wait till later. Anyway, he didn’t need to know what city he was in to know he was in an abandoned safe house. Which narco faction it belonged to didn’t make a difference. This one had to have been empty for at least a month, probably more, judging by the disarray. That and the insect activity. From Escobar to El Señor de los Cielos, the pace of the narco-lifestyle only lent itself to living and leaving fast, and whatever got left behind was usually beside the point.

Okay, but how’d he get here.

Maybe if he asked her, she’d stop looking right through him from where she stood across the room, arms crossed, leaning back against a mostly empty bookshelf that housed a few old books, some technical manual for car engines, and what looked like some old issues of Penthouse or some other stag magazine. High brow reading. He wondered if sicarios knew how much of a cliche they all were. Just once he’d like to meet one who enjoyed basketweaving, or birdwatching, or who was sentimental about their girlfriend. Anything that broke type. Then again, when it came to breaking type, he wasn’t in the best position to judge.

“Ay, por favooor, cabrón.” Startled, he jerked forward at the sound of her voice. “Remember when I told you that you were straight out of Central Casting for a war movie?” Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, she scoffed, “Who are you to talk about breaking type, hombre?”

What the hell. How’d she– He didn’t– Or, had he— Was he talking out loud this whole time?

He sat up straighter and a pain lit up his right side, going from dull to blinding. Hands already at the damp spot on his shirt, trying not to scream, he could tell the wound there was bleeding more now from the pressure of sitting up. Wait no, that was good. Actually, he could use that. Inhaling with the strength of his whole body, he pressed his fingers down, jamming them into the wound, and let the pain accumulate in his chest and ribcage, then exhaled, hoping his breath would send the sensation up further to his face, his forehead, activate the muscles there to share the load of his heavy eyelids.

He didn’t think he was talking out loud, but then, he must’ve been since she’d answered. That meant something, he knew. He couldn’t focus though. Why couldn’t he focus? What’d it mean? Oh right, blood loss. It was worse than he realized. But why wasn’t she helping him? No matter how furious she was with him, that wouldn’t have been like her, standing there while he bled out.

“Ay pinshe Carrillo, no seas mamón. I was helping but you fought me the minute I started trying to clean the thing. And then,” brows knit in his favorite it-is-what-it-is position, she pointed to a puddle by his feet, “you knocked the bottle out of my hands,” then shrugged, looking around the room absently. “And vodka was the only thing I could find in this place that even comes close to sanitary. So, I had to wait for you calm down or pass out before I could do anything.”

He had no memory of that. In fact, he had no memory of anything before that dingy little room. Which was weird. He’d been hit in the head enough times that lapses in memory weren’t an altogether foreign experience, but usually he could remember something from before. Sometimes it might be hours before whatever disaster, but he at least remembered. Now, it was just blank. It occurred to him that he might be–

“–and you might be in shock,” she finished aloud.

Jesus, was he saying everything he was thinking? He watched her and waited, seeing if she’d answer more questions in his head.

That light outside kept flashing, bathing the room in a deep shade of red that danced off the broken glass, creating macabre shadows that skittered up the walls, across the floor, the ceiling. Through the blinds too, it cast alternating stripes of red and black on her face. It would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t so sinister-looking. Well no, it made her more stunning, in a haunting, alien way, even though she looked how she usually did: hair messily pulled back, a few strands hanging in her face, wearing a tank-top and that button-up he’d found at the Salvation Army in San Ysidro. He couldn’t focus. That’s right, he’d gone to drop off some old dining chairs he had no use for, caught it out of the corner of his eye hanging with the rest of the men’s button-ups. And instantly thought of her. Why couldn’t he focus. The pain finally reached his eyes.

Again, she answered his thoughts. “Well, as much as I wanted to fight you for fighting me,” she looked down, pinching the collar of the shirt and wiggling it back and forth like a dollar bill, “I didn’t get far enough in the process of dressing your wound to ruin it. And it is one of my favorites. I have to give it to you, tigre. Your attention to detail is the stuff of legend, and they were not wrong.”

At that, he smiled tiredly. She rocked forward, kicking off the bookshelf, and strode over to him, bits of glass crunching under the gummy, rubber souls of her boots. Doc Martens. So practical. They really were, the two of them, the same sometimes.

“Andrea,” her name came out in a whisper and a wince as he clutched at his side. He looked down in a daze that no matter how many times he blinked, how wide he forced his eyes open, he couldn’t shake. “How’d th– what happened? What are you doing here? How’d you– ,” he grunted, shifting his weight to his good side, “mm– get here?”

“Te he seguido, obvio.”

What? She follo– he hadn’t even briefed anyone on the raid at Agua Caliente until right before. Trujillo would never. Walt? No, after the debacle in Juarez, he was too wrapped up needing this win to jeopardize it by talking to a reporter. Even one as dogged and persistent as Andrea. And yes, she was resourceful. But resourceful, not psychic.

It felt like a lifetime of sitting there trying put it all together and he didn’t remember when she’d started making her way towards him, but she was already kneeling next to him now, slowly removing his hands from his side. Her eyes and forehead pinched in such a way that would’ve amplified his concern if he weren’t so out of it.

Her fingers felt cold around his neck. “Árre, we need to get this off,” she said, unbuttoning the collar of his uniform.

He was alarmed when his hands brushed hers and he saw they were covered in some dark substance. Oh, blood. Strange, it looked pitch black in this light. Andrea continued working her way down, pulling each button gingerly, so as not to hurt him more. The closer she got to his stomach, the more her hands began to resemble his, covered in black.

“Dale, mija. ¿Me vas a explicar lo que haces aquí ya o qué?”

He wanted to rub his thumb across her lip as it curled up in a smug smile. “Why? Should I not be here? You want me to leave? Sure,” she craned her neck around, and called out into the empty room, “I’ll just be on my way then and let someone in this massive crowd of eager, good samaritans help you.”

He chuckled thinly. When she faced back to him, she began untucking his shirt as delicately as possible. It hurt like a sonofabitch but it was going to hurt no matter what they did, so he softened the corners of his eyes, trying not to make her feel bad.

She continued. “The better question I think is, what are you doing here?”

Once he was free from his dress shirt, she grabbed both sides of the hole in the white shirt underneath and tore it wider to get a better look at the wound. Blood leaked out in streams down his stomach to his waist. It appeared to be a large gash from some kind of shrapnel. Much too jagged for a knife. The harsh sound of air through her teeth was a good indicator of what kind of shape he was in.

Alright so, shrapnel. But he couldn’t remember an explosion and there was no evidence of one having happened there in the room. What was he doing here? He couldn’t answer her. The blankness of before was all he could conjure up and that vast emptiness set him on the edge of panic.

He’d been doing a passable job not reacting too viscerally with his face, but when she started rifling through his pockets on either side, he grimaced, growling, “Ay, Andrea! Qué coño estás haciendo, porfavor.”

Paying him no mind, she held out her hand like a surgeon waiting for a scalpel. “Knife.”

He jutted his chin toward his feet. Spotting the shiny silver clip, she grabbed the knife from his boot, flicked it out, and made an incision in the hem of his uniform shirt. Catching the free section in her teeth, she tore down the length of the initial incision, and started packing the vodka-soaked gauze that she’d managed to hold onto after his freakout onto the wound and tying it with the strips of cloth cut from the shirt. When she pulled hard, securing the final knot, he nearly keeled over.

“Aycarajoperdónperdónperdóname,” she said, catching him by the shoulders.

She stayed there, acting as his scaffolding until the pain subsided. He lifted his chin to rest his forehead against hers and catch his breath. Just in her wanting to help him, the assurance of her fingertips against his shoulders, he felt her helping him. He couldn’t remember a time he was so grateful for another human being. Grateful in the way only she could make him feel. 

Speaking half to her and half to the ground, he tried putting the pieces together, “I don’t know what I’m doing here. For some reason–“ but lost the words when he’d barely gotten started.

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s– I have this strange– I have a feeling we’ve always been here. And will … always be here.”

Andrea nodded, eyes closed, like she knew exactly what he was talking about. It might feel like a trap if they didn’t have each other. She was always more than enough.

After a beat of silence, she pulled back and looked at him sadly, like she knew something he didn’t. Which was odd given what she asked next. “Horacio, por favor, necesito saberlo. Why? Why did you do it?”

Why’d he do it? Why’d he do, what?

“I know it’s in there, I know you remember. You have to, or you’ll never make it out of here.”

He shook his head, squinting his eyes, confused and cranky like a kid prematurely woken up from a nap. “Make it out? I’m not gonna make it out. Not unless you help me. Look at–“ he motioned to his side, “Ni siquiera puedo andar, mija.”

“Yes, you can,” she insisted calmly, her eyes full of an inexplicable mix of hope and resignation.

What did she know that he didn’t?

“I don’t know anything you don’t know. You just don’t want to know it. But you have to try, tigre. Eso es la única manera de vengarte a él. No more cutting corners. No more deals with the devil. Eres mejor que eso, ya lo sabes.”

The devil. The devil. The flashing red light. Deals. Deals with the devil.

Ah. Calderoni. That. That fucking deal.

His own C.I.s in exchange for Calderoni’s intel on Agua Caliente, el Hipódromo, Carlos Hank Gonzalez. A bigger fish than the Arellanos. Even though he knew exactly what the family would do to the informants. They’d have to stop building bridges in Mexico to hang people from. He showed up in Tijuana to clean up Rebollo’s mess and gone ahead and made his own.

Still, she was never part of the deal. But he could guess how that happened. In some boardroom meeting he conveniently wasn’t present for, somehow “journalist” and “informant” got conflated. They were wise not to include him. Not only would he not have agreed, he would’ve ensured not a single one of them made it out of there on two feet and breathing.

So, is this what it’s like watching the boulder come crashing down the mountain for the hundredth? Thousandth? Millionth time?

Carrillo’s face fell with understanding. “But I can’t lose you.”

“Sí, pero lo tienes que hacer. You have work to do. Because I love you. And you love me. And you owe me. And,” she rolled her tongue along the inside of her cheek, and then flashed a dangerous smile, “I want you to burn the whole motherfucking thing to the ground.”

Then, cradling the back of his neck with both hands, she leaned in, lips christening him on the forehead, each of his eyelids, the tip of his nose, coming to a close at his own. There was a finality to the kiss that made him dig in deeper as if he could hold her here without lifting a finger, an urgency she returned so fiercely, when they broke away both their lips were swollen and flushed. Not without passion, but it wasn’t carnal so much as the pure desperation of goodbye.

“Going after those pinshe shingamadres is the least you can do.” He hadn’t even registered tears at his eyes until she brushed one with her thumb that had escaped down onto his cheekbone and mused, “After all, you are the reason I’m dead.”

∴

Slapped with a blast of air, his whole body jolted back to life, as he came to in a cold sweat, ceiling fan taunting him from above while he gasped for air and shivered against the damp sheets. He was so used to waking up violently like this, it didn’t even scare him anymore. Confused him a little, maybe. But reassurance was quick to follow and his breathing slowed as he relaxed, because ah, yes, he knew how to deal with the nightmares now.

Like clockwork, he reached for his life preserver, turning and throwing his arm over to the other side of the bed, expecting to feel the warmth of her back, her shoulders, hear her steady breathing next to him. But his hand sailed straight through empty air and landed on the cold, vacant spot of the mattress instead.

He almost doubled over. Pain unlike anything.

Worse than when Trujillo first delivered the news to him in his office. Much worse. The perpetual renewal of shock that this was real and the place in that dingy room in his head was not, only sharpened the blow each time. But he deserved to be wounded and wounded like this over and over again. After all, he was responsible, she was right about that.

She wasn’t here to help him with the nightmares anymore. Now, she only lived in his.

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taglist: @narcosfandomdiscord @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc @narcolini

[xxhypersomnia]

NEW LOCKSCREEN AVAILABLE IN STORIES AND ON TUMBLR!🖤

All edits watermarked 💧 please use/share/credit

[mf-st4rb0y]

I'm not saying anything, but... 😉

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...they kinda looks like the adult versions of them 🤨🤔🫣

[yourstrulylightstar283]

Nice, Pedro Pascal portrayed the role of agent Javier Peña in Narcos so well. ^^

[hausofmamadas]

TO THE SMASH N GRAB CREW | RIP to the homies and this Cece x Kenny meet cute

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Pairing: Cecelia “Cece” Garza x Kenny and The Smash-And-Grab Crew gif dump

For @narcosfandomdiscord NarcOctober - Day 16

Prompt: Day of Surprises - create a fanwork that focuses on dreams, literal or metaphorical

Okay so, you guys, I have no idea if this even works for the prompt dreams, bc it’s not really a dream one of the characters is having but rather, a dream of mine, and specifically a dream of whatever this was or could’ve been???? That we were categorically deprived of thanks to the Narcos’ writers’ tendency to just drop narrative grenades lil hints of things and then never pick them back up again.

So idk if yall remember that one time Operation Leyenda actually didn’t entirely fuck some shit up but there was One Time n I’m lowkey convinced it was thanks to the involvement of some estrogen no one will convince me that GOAT Secretary Susie wasn’t the strength of Jaime and Kiki’s operation, mmkay in the form of this baddie, named Cece aka Danilo’s way-too-foxy cousin.

What exactly did this bonafide mothafucking G short for goddess do that made the mission so successful? Idk, maybe just being the sassiest, most could-not-be-fucking-bothered, beyond not-having-any-of-your-shit to political scumbag and all around general skidmark, Ruben Zuno Árce okay we don’t even have time to get into how legitimately want to light this man on fire whilst painting💅🏽her💅🏽fucking💅🏽nails💅🏽 I MEANSJSHWH it truly doesn’t get better than this

I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE SATISFIED WATCHING TBIS FUCKINFSKWJHW W SHOW except that one time Barrón broke my brain by spending the whole time being some random and then very sudddnly stealing the whole gotdamn show out of nowhere in ten mins but shhhhhhsjshshs we’re not talking about that right now like they fucking did it. They got this bitch on US soil, homie was shitting in his skivvies right there on the runway also ngl I’m convinced that Walt dressing respectably in that torturously sexy red shirt was another crucial key to the success of this plan but it was mostly Cece

Okay okay okay so then after the plan goes down like gang busters, they all meet up for lunch and we get this random little exchange between enemies-to-lovers Danilo and Kenny before Kenny cried weeweewee all the way back home to the US bc he could not handle big swinging dick Calderoni and like tbh, fair where Danilo makes a point to introduce Kenny to his cousin, The Real MVP Cece, who, like the rest of the women on this show is infuriatingly hot and stunning bc they cannot for just one moment pipe down with that shit

Almost as though he’s like been, on the low, talking to Cece about Kenny and promised to introduce them as like!???????? A blind date or somethinggghdhe like some kind of setup!??????

And it’s not like Danilo does this and Kenny’s like uhhhhhh, ‘scuse me, tf? Kenny’s literally justlikesjejsjwjsusuebehsh like, okay check this shit, look at Kenny’s fucjinfjdjsd face in that gif, like if he were wearing a suit or a tux, mans would be straightening his little bow tie, all checking himself in the mirror, picking at his teeth, breathing into the palm of his hand, asking bestie Daryl, heygorl, be honest, does this silk cravat make my neck look fat? To which Daryl is like, sorry, what the actual fuck is a silk cravat? Also idk when this became Victorian England where ppl wear silk cravats and it kinda seems like it’s setting that shit up to go somewhere except all we get is what?

A BIG. FAT. NOTHING. BURGERRRRRJDJDJHE

We literally NEVER FUCKING SEE Cece again and Kenny cries weeweewee all the way home in like the next episode, and the rest of the team gets mowed down on another airport tarmac, except sweet bby angels Sal

And Daryl and Walt but as much as I love him, he’s far too much of a glutton for punishment to be considered a sweet bby angel

I mean if blue balls existed, this show would be The Fucking King Kahuna of Blue Ballers. Why??????? I MEAN LOOK AT TBJS WOMANNNNNNNNNN OKAY????????

And as if we weren’t suffering from our blue balls enough already, the show literally pushes us to the ground and pummels us in the metaphorical dick with titanium baseball bats yes more than one by giving us this👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽one and only moment of joy, this👇🏽👇🏽👇🏽 👇🏽 one single, solitary victory

…….

…………….

………………………..

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand then they went ahead and straight-up just Game-of-Thrones-Red-Wedding massacred like seventy five percent of the motherfucking cast by like episode 9

Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoool. Fine.

═

For the giiiiiiiifs: @narcosfandomdiscord @ashlingnarcos @drabbles-mc @narcolini @artemiseamoon

[hausofmamadas]

I was like lowkey stalking your Tumblr looking at your Masterlist trying to find all your Joel fics when I stumbled upon this little gem and and justsksksjs had to scream about it bc it was so fun, so ándale en shinga into the screaming

═

✸ Physically, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent night’s sleep. Mentally, he was frustrated that a certain arms dealer he had been after for months slipped past his grip once again. Emotionally, he needed a release. 

And that was what led him to your door time and time again. 

OH ALRWADYSJSJSJSJSJS YOU ARE SUPPLYING ME WITH THE FUCKING👏🏽GOODS👏🏽RIGHT👏🏽HERE👏🏽 WITH THIS PHYSICALLY, MENTALLY, EMOTIONALLY PROSE WIZARDRY, I SEE YOU GORL AND IM LOVING IT ALREADY

✸ “Hey querida,” he breathed as he immediately cupped your face and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

At the risk of saying this, having only read like a mere 7 sentences of this fic, I would like to stand up and give you a round of applause for picking a character-consistent term of endearment pa' nuestro chulito Javi to call someone bc lo juro the number of times I’ve cringed whilst reading the imho ooc “princesa” or “reina” is too many to count

✸ He took a step closer to Javier with a challenge in his eyes, “Go ahead, shoot me, Agente.”

SKSKSKSKSJ okay, so admittedly I’m a Javi stan but have no idea who this other Pedro character Comandante Veracruz is but just based on the pic you chose, and the way he calls javi “Agente” HAS ME FANNING MYSEPF FOR JYEEESUS ALREADY LIKE THE BIG DICK ENERGY OF THAT SHIT RIGHT OUT THE GATE am I gonna have to look into another fandom mayhaps, I barely have time to adequately express my Narcos love as it is sidksjdb

✸ ... and placed yourself between the two men, “No one is shooting anyone in my apartment, got it,” you raised your hands in front of each of them, both their chests close enough that you felt the heat from each man.

NOOOSJSJSAJSISJSKEJRBEBEBDKJE STOPPPPPPO BC YOU JUST HAD TO HIT ME WITH THAT “FEEL THE HEAT” BC despite the fact that you didn’t write this expressly for me, I am going to proceed to make it about me YOU KNOW THATS MY ACHILLES’ HEEL, AND YOU SAT DOWN TO WRITE THIS SHIT AND WEJSJSBSB WBWEJ WERE LIKE “YES, ACTS OF TERRORISM ON THIS DAY” AND IM— wksjwj

✸ Clearly, your initial plan was going to fail, “Yes Javi, he tells me about every detail of his life,” you deadpanned.

OKAYBSSJSJSJ this is so random and will make no sense if you haven’t seen the show but there’s a whole bit about this exact thing in this Netflix show called Sky Rojo, where the main character, who’s a sex worker who Reader is kinda giving me similar vibes of bc idk why but my brain automatically assigns an OC or someone else to Reader instead of me sksks is joking about how so many men “confiesan tanto que no deberían a sus putas” (They use puta in the show bc it’s all in Spanish,not my personal word-choice) but she also says something like “la mente de cada puta es una caja negra” so like the fact that Reader deadpans this just makes me think like, ooooonyes, keepin that lid shut on that black box skskks

✸ Veracruz stepped up behind you and placed his hand on your hip while he nuzzled into your ear, “Do not worry, Agente,” his eyes locked onto Javier’s as he caressed your body...

THEHDJDJSJSBS THE WAY I FUCKING CLUTCHED MY PEARLS LIKE WHO IS THIS BALLSY MF STEPPIN TO MAH BOI LIKE THAT AND CAN I GET ONE ON BACKORDER PLS

✸ “I only have time for one today,” you explained, “Why don’t you both stay?” you let out a soft, short laugh, “I’ll even let you share the price of your time.”

PFFFTTTTTJDJDJDJR not Reader lowkey just, “look bitches, I got shit to do, places to be, I’m on a tight schedule, so if one of you isn’t gonna leave, you might as well make it worth my time and yours, ya estamos ???” Bc we love a Reader who can think on their feet and delegate effectively

✸ Veracruz eyed Javier up and down before he broke the silence, “I am willing to give this a try,” he smirked ...

Leave it to the crimie in the room to take that bisexual(Herero-flexible?) leap first sksks

✸ Clearly Javier did not expect that, and you saw his composure stumble slightly.

KSSKSKSKSKSKSKSJEJEJWBEJ FUCJING JAVI, ONE COMPLIMENT AND THIS MAN IS CRAAACKING UNDER THE PRESSURE, CRUMBLING LIKE A JENGA TOWERRRRJDJD IM FUCKING HOWLING RN, KICKING MY FEET

✸ “Ok,” you repeated, “But my apartment is neutral territory, got it,” your voice was firmer, “No killing each other while you’re here.”

once again, a savvy Reader lowkey just, “look, you cannot kill each other here. Yes, this is a fine upstanding place of business but we do not have the insurance for that shit. And also this rug is brand new from IKEA. Don’t test me boys”

✸ The tension still remained though, even as they both shed their jackets at the same time, their arms brushing against the other as they did so.

MMMMMMPPPFHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SKSKB SO OKAY so if you want a rough idea of what exactly the sound was that just came outta my mouth, please YouTube whales talking and that will give you a general idea bc this detail broke me and also can someone pls explain to me why it is, in the midst of all of this sexy filth (affectionate), this detail is what sent me to an early grave. Explícamelo

✸ “You know the way I like you, muñeca,” Veracruz groaned against your lips.

OHHHHHHHHHHHNOOOOOOOYOUFUCKINJTNTJTJRJDDIIIIIIIDNOTTTTTTTTTTT JUST MENTALLY AND EMOTIONALLY ASSAULT ME WITH THE FUCKING STERLING USE AND PLACEMENT OF MUÑECA YOU JUST DIDNOTTTTTT SISJJWJWOSKDJRN ENEKXODJABWKWPWPWNNR R

✸ “Fuck…” Javier muttered as he palmed his cock through his jeans.

Look .................. listen ........... I try to keep things PG13 for the reblogs ~~bc I don’t like to ruin the spice for everyone yannow what I mean but I would be lying if didn’t say that upon reading this, I actually just dropped my phone, stood up, gave a slow clap round of applause, and then ritually set myself on fire bc of this is a fucking banger haaaaa haha see what I did there of a line

✸ “Cuidado, Veracruz,” Javier warmed as his eyes narrowed.

“I am always careful, Agente ...”

IIIIIII MEAAAAAAANNSNSJSJEJDJEJEJE CAN DEKSJEB IM FUCKING INCOHERENT RN???????? ICANT WVEN WORDS PROPERLY OKAY????? YOU HAVE LEFT ME FULLY

✸ ... Javier was slower and more deliberate.

SKSKSJSJ okay forreal I am loving this dynamic where like Veracruz fucks more like it’s his job and Javi fucks more like it’s his most favoritest pastime 😂😂😂

✸ But, it only made Veracruz amused, “Well played, Agente Peña.”

OKAY SKSJSJS BYUT LIKE I feel like Veracruz got the raw end of the deal here okay I swear that one wasn’t on purpose having to go first bc now Javi just gets to play off whatever he did and WOOOOOF híjole if Reader was a fiddle you know mans was playin’

✸ Exhausted, you collapsed right into Javier’s arms.

Godddddd like I could never do this job but also lowkey wish this was the way I clocked out of work at the end of the day KEKW but Reader earnt that shit, puttin’ all that cock that work in

✸ His expression dropped as he watched the other man gather his things and drape his shirt over his shoulders.

NOOOOOOOOODJSJSJSJ BC THIS IS FUCKINF SEEEEENDINGFDJD ME SO MUCH THE FACT THAT VERACRUZ IS JUST WENT *checks watch* “LOOKS LIKE ITS FUCK O’CLOCK” THAT STARTS THIS WHOLE SHIT IN THE FIRST PLACE AND THEN LITERALLY JUST:

RIGHT AGTER THEYRE DONE SKSJSBD LIKE IM CHOKING ICANNOT BREATHE LAUGHING AT THAT

✸ Veracruz crossed the room and picked up the pack, “Do not ever say I did nothing for you, Agente,” his tone was low as he handed them over.

Dude okay when I actually think about it, Veracruz was actually kiiiiiiiiind of such the homie this entire time and I love him handing Javi a pack of cigarettes and sayinf “don’t ever say I did nothing for you” when he ALSO LITERALLY ALLOWED JAVI TO BARGE IN ON HIS SEX APPOINTMENT SKSKSJDN it’s like, if Javi burst through the double doors of a dentist’s office and the dentist looks at Veracruz, with the little paper bib around his neck, reclined back in the chair, that horrid floodlight just searing his eyeballs, mouth open with that medieval-looking torture device that like hooks into the corners of your lips, and dentist goes “yo, is it cool if I tack this guy onto your appointment,” and Veracruz just all garbled goes, “uh .... sshshgsure”

✸ “Until next time, Agente Peña,” he paused, “And thank you for paying the bill.” 

SKSKSKSKSKKTHISIIIIIISSS CHEAP ASS MF although I guess it serves Javi right since he did, as I said, interrupt Veracruz’s scheduled dick-riding appt si me sientes

The Favorite

Javier Peña x fem!reader x Comandante Veracruz

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!), sex worker reader (we respect sex workers here!), mutual pining, oral (m receiving x2), hinted bisexuality, multiple orgasms, overstim, rough sex, fingering, unprotected sex, protective!Javier, cheeky Veracruz, no use of y/n (I think I got everything, please let me know if I missed something!)

Notes: I am SO EXCITED to share this one with y'all cause this was a blast to write!!! So I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it!! And a big thank you to @bendro-pascarnes for giving me ideas and encouragement for this fic!!! Enjoy!!! Reblogs and follows are very much appreciated!!

To stay up to date on when I post, also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates

Javier Peña was exhausted. Physically, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a decent night’s sleep. Mentally, he was frustrated that a certain arms dealer he had been after for months slipped past his grip once again. Emotionally, he needed a release. 

And that was what led him to your door time and time again. 

Javier sighed to himself as he stared at the familiar doorway and knocked three times. He knew every little crack in the plain door to your apartment, and he could tell you were on the other side by the familiar rustling and step pattern. You were a comfort to Javier, and there was something about you that drew him back over and over again.

He kept that to himself, though. It was just sex, just a release. He didn’t want to complicate things by bringing emotions and feelings into your relationship. And he certainly never wanted to put you in any danger by getting more involved with you. What if the wrong person found out who you were and tried to use you against him? Javier couldn’t live with himself if you were ever hurt and it was his fault.

All his thoughts were pushed out though when you finally opened the door and Javier looked deep into your eyes. 

“Hey querida,” he breathed as he immediately cupped your face and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“Javi…” you moaned as you welcomed the warmth and comfort his large hands brought you. You reached out and gripped onto his jacket as he gently guided you inside.

Keep reading

[xxhypersomnia]

REQUEST: Javier leather jacket [risqué] FULL LOCKSCREEN AVAILABLE IN STORIES & TUMBLR

All edits watermarked 💧 please use/share/credit

[mf-st4rb0y]

[katykatyykaty]

These pictures are ten years apart