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604to647 · 1 month ago

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2.9K / Vigilante AU Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javier Pena does in New York City what he could not in Columbia.

Warnings: AU set after canon events of Season 3. Maybe a wee bit dark but wasn’t Narcos hella dark sometimes? Mention of violence and weapons. Implied ambiguous powers. Established relationship, brief allusion to smut (1). No nicknames in this one! (So weird for me 😂)

A/N: Vigilante AU is the brainchild of the brilliant @almostfoxglove, who inspires constantly with her beautiful moodboards. Here’s the one for Vigilante!Javi and it’s the entire reason this fic exists - thank you, Freya my dearest 😘😘

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘

⬇️ Barely edited and mainly just vibes 🫣

Dodged a bullet. It was just a saying.

Or was it?

For a very long time, Javier thought he was just a very lucky man.

Though he did not realize it at the time, for the entirety of his career Javier had held his proverbial breath waiting for that luck to run out - but it never did. When he thinks back to all the Medellin fire fights he’s been caught in, his involvement with Los Pepes (that he’s still not sure he regrets completely), the tense relationship he struck up with Don Berna, and all the times Escobar’s scheming and machinations could have easily rendered him collateral damage, he can’t help but marvel at how many actual and metaphorical bullets he’s dodged.

And if he was to renumerate on it further, he might even count his political tangling with Stechner, his role in Elisa’s escape, and (if he was really honest about it) his almost marriage to Lorraine, as near misses.

While not unscathed and usually worst for the wear, Javier Pena has always landed on his feet.

He had never questioned it before.

But now he decides to test it.

When he miraculously evades any major consequences for his “alleged” partnership with Los Pepes, dodging the treason charges that Judy Moncada had almost gleefully laid at his doorstep before her exile, Javier cannot ignore the brushing feathers of some higher power looking out for him. By the time his deposition in the matter some how lands him a promotion as the DEA's US attaché to Columbia in charge of the fight against the Cali cartel, Javier is certain of its presence.

He heads the Cali operation with a boldness and confidence that pushes the limits of the diplomatic courtesy extended by his Columbian hosts. Running missions and chasing leads that leave no slack on the legal reins handed to him by the US government. He’s brash, brave, and reckless – ferocious in his pursuit of justice, almost daring the wings of Lady Luck who rides into battle with him to fail them both.

The way Agent Pena works is not without frustration or devastation; he wins some, he loses more - but at the end of it all, he remains standing.

Javier is almost afraid to put a name to it. To call it luck seems almost derivative of this protection that he’s inexplicably been afforded. Enhanced self preservation? An uncanny ability to evade major bodily harm or danger to his person and livelihood? It doesn’t matter - after Cali Javier knows that he is someone’s god’s favourite.

The price of this so-called gift appears to be guilt. Guilt that he was unable to extend this unmerited favour, that he could not invite others to join him under its umbrella of safety. That he wielded no additional power to protect those that needed protecting was a source of deep shame and anguish that Javier wrestles with on a daily basis.

While he remained relatively intact, Javier could not say the same for the more deserving fellow officers with whom he had the honour of serving alongside: brave Columbian policemen, incorruptible members of Search Bloc, his friends. Carrillo.

What was the point? Why him? Avoiding the direst of consequences for only himself, but unable to prevent the same suffering for others feels like a curse at times.

The months after the downfall of the Cali cartel that Javier spends at Chucho’s ranch is supposed to bring him peace in working the land, being with family. But he cannot find peace. Not when there had been so many causalities and lives destroyed back in Columbia, and he had learned from Stechner, of all people, that it had all been for naught.

Agent Pena had played fair and abided by Uncle Sam’s rules, and it hadn’t mattered at all. Unseen political powers were playing a different global game and with their long reaching arms of corruption, swept all of Javier and the DEA’s strategically placed game pieces off the board before the game had even started. And the worst part is, they had let him continue and go through the motions of putting the Rodriguez brothers behind bars, letting him think he had actually accomplished something when in reality, he had only played the role of clueless puppet in the ruin of innocent lives. It made Javier sick, and he left the DEA jaded and cynical.

How could he be at peace when those that made the rules didn’t have to play by them, and through hubris and indifference allowed the destructive cycle of the drug trade to rage on endlessly?

But Javier didn’t have to play by the rules, did he? He had something on his side that allowed him to push the boundaries of the rigged game - but he couldn’t push if he didn’t play.

So, to Chucho’s disappointment, Javier leaves for New York City to seek out his old boss; not for the first time, bureaucratic politics works in his favour and Messina hands Special Agent Pena a new title: Head of the DEA’s NYC field office.

Javier will never know what strings Messina pulled to get him back in, but he never had any doubt of her success - confident now that when it really matters, fortune will favour Javier Pena. He’s back to doing what he needs to: hunting down the remnants of the Cali mafia that had entrenched themselves in New York City and carrying out the government’s stated directive against all drugs - marijuana, heroin, steroids. It’s not easy work by any means, but somehow, he feels at more at home weeding out stateside trafficking networks and shutting down home grown labs in the five boroughs than he did those months he spent in Laredo.

By day, Agent Pena hunts the scourge of the city with the aid of his team of talented agents, all eager to make a difference and brimming with strong moral fibre. He can’t quite bring himself to destroy their faith in the system that he now knows actively works against them and their efforts. He allows them to fight the good fight so that they can go home and sleep at night in a way that Javier almost doesn’t remember anymore. Wiretaps, stakeouts, informant deals, raids and busts – all done by the book, slow going and above board.

By night, Javier hunts alone. Armed with the intel collected via those same formal and official channels of his government day job, he sets out to informally and unofficially deal with cartel and drug trade players under the cover of dark. Hats off to you, Uncle Sam.

The judgment and retribution Javier dispenses is fearsome and precise. Choosing targets that he knows will inflict immeasurable damage during the time it will take the DEA to bring them to justice (if ever), he methodically crosses off the names on a too-long list one by one.

They never know he’s coming for them until it’s too late. They don’t know that this vigilante leverages intel painstakingly gathered and vetted by DEA resources in the only way it will ever be truly effective; that he’s more than acquainted with their whereabouts and routine movements. Their executioner has memorized all of their weaknesses and vulnerabilities before they even know they’re on his chopping block. They don’t know that the masked avenger stalks through the night and scales building without fear or hesitation, imbued with a confidence that can only come with doing the right thing, and something else that all but guarantees his success.

The investigative and strategic mind that serves Javier as an officer of the law remains his most trusted weapon when he’s off the clock. He tirelessly pours over surveillance data, building and city plans – identifying single point entrances and exits, quick escape routes, and areas where there will be no witnesses… or civilian casualties. Never again will Javier Pena allow the pursuit of a criminal to hurt another innocent.

He finds that he’s partial to knives and blades, avoiding firearms completely for his nighttime pursuits. From Javier’s experience, guns are too easy traced unless he were to engage with the illegal arms trade, and there are some lines he’s still unwilling to cross. Guns are the weapons of the loud and arrogant, the sometimes ignorant – knives obey only skill and discretion.

But his preference is to use his hands. Every time Javier feels the crush of bones or the splitting of flesh beneath his fists, his chest fills with pride and accomplishment. The splattering of blood and the swollen, mangled bodies of his targets after he’s through with them become like therapeutic art; his hands are his chosen instrument and he paints his canvas for the evening with bloodshed and barbarism, expressing his bottled-up fury at his past failures and the grief he still keeps buried deep for those he’s lost.

Even the squelching of the red sticky liquid that pools out from where his blades land true and the gurgling of blood-filled mouths become welcomed melodies to his ears. The final desperate gasping for air and the crunch of shattering bones act as the percussion section of a violent orchestra – one that Javier that conducts with the passion of a musician who’s finally found his muse.

He almost likes it when they fight back – giving him permission to discard any restraint he might have been exercising over his savagery in the name of efficiency. With every blow he lands and every vital organ he guts, Javier feels like he’s fighting for them all: Carrillo, President Gaviria, Helena, Christina, sweet little Olivia’s mother, freaking Puff the cat. Fighting for them now like he should have fought for them back in Columbia.

His actions do not go wholly unnoticed. The DEA picks up chatter about a masked vigilante who seems to only target drug lords and narcotics organizations, one who seemingly appears out of nowhere to strike deadly and crippling blows to the cartels before disappearing without a trace. It sounds like something straight out of a comic book. A few news outlets run a couple of pieces on him, but the NYPD and federal agencies are all too overwhelmed by this War on Drugs™ that Javier knows they’ll never win, to look a gift horse in the mouth. For now, the hunter does not become the hunted. Once again, luck favours Javier Pena.

Though he is satisfied with his ongoing results, Javier is nowhere near immortal or indestructible. He bleeds and bruises, his ribs crack and his knuckles split. He’s constantly dog-tired and concussed, every part of him is scraped and achy, but he heals. He’s alive.

Each poorly set bone break and new scar carved onto Javier’s body is worn with pride – collected like trophies that fuel the fire of his resolve and righteousness.

He doesn’t feel the guilt anymore.

The only time self reproach creeps up on him is when Javi lies to you. He feels the low stir of something uncomfortable in his chest when he claims to be going on a DEA nighttime raid and your sweet response is to tell him to be careful and wish him back to you soon. It feels even worse when he slips out of your warm, safe bed while you remain unaware and asleep like an innocent angel, and it surges hot and shameful when he slips back under the covers while it’s still dark and you welcome him, soft and inviting, oblivious to the violence and brutality that now clings to his naked skin.

He should leave you be, let the goodness you radiant remain unsullied by his darkness, but he can’t. He fell for you hard and fast, head over heels since the day he saw you buying a hotdog from the vendor outside the DEA’s downtown office. Chain-smoking away the stress induced by the bureaucratic red tape he had waiting for him upstairs, Javi watched in slow motion as a mugger took advantage of your attempts to balance your belongings with your lunch – violently grabbing your purse off your arm. His fists clenched instinctively and he was about to leap into action when you rendered him unnecessary - karate chopping the perp with your briefcase without a drop of mustard falling from your hotdog. He’s amazed, amused, tickled – a litany of light and joyous emotions Javi had forgotten were possible. He comes over to ensure the would-be mugger doesn’t retaliate and asks if you’re okay; he swears the smile you give him is more dangerous than Escobar himself ever was.

You’re the most perfect thing in Javi’s life and the only thing he has just for himself. You play no role in his quest to snuff out the insidiousness that sinks its teeth deeper and deeper into this city everyday, and unlike the women of his past, you aren’t an atonement for his previous complacency and deep seeded regrets. You just let him be – and he’s just Javi to you, not Agent Pena or even Javier. Just Javi with whom you happily wile away hours talking about nothing and everything, who holds you when you cry to sappy movies, who you convince to try every ramen joint on the island of Manhattan, who pulls the most stomach caving, soul shaking orgasms from you. In return, you give him a new peace – one where his nightmares end with soft and loving arms hugging him awake, where the confessions of his past misdeeds and failures in Columbia aren’t met with pity or judgment but with compassion and tenderness; a peace that seems to know no end - entangling and weaving its delicate and ever-growing tendrils with something that reminds Javi of hope. You give him a peace he didn’t know was possible for someone like him, and one that he’s not sure he deserves. Javi loves you. But he lies to you.

He thinks, no, he knows, that one day it will all come to a head - the people he hunts as DEA, the vigilante justice he dispenses at night, and the life he’s come to treasure in the home he’s built with you. And when that time inevitably comes, Javi hopes – prays - that whatever grace has deigned to keep him from succumbing to fates suffered by many better men than he, will once again come to his aid and prevent him from losing what’s truly important, what makes his life worth living.

That time might be tonight.

The evening has been wonderfully typical, bellies full, you and Javi are on your way to try a new ice cream place for dessert when you hear two gunshots ring out. Then more shots in rapid succession as sirens approach. Javi pushes you down behind some parked cars - finding a safe line a sight from which he assesses the situation to ensure that the two of you are a safe distance away before properly reading the scene.

With some weariness, Javi realizes he’s played a role in what’s happening in front of him. Two nights ago, he took out the numbers man and head of security for the remnant of one of Pacho’s old distribution networks. It seems a local gang has decided to take advantage of the sudden power vacuum and take the territory by force. But with the NYPD now arrived on scene, the rival gangs unite against their common enemy, and Javi counts four, five, police officers currently being pinned down behind their patrol cars by round after round of gunfire.

He should help. But he doesn’t have a firearm on him and his DEA badge alone isn’t going to do any good. He could pretend he’s a citizen, but that would never fly – for all the same reasons he wears a mask during his nightly crusades, Javi knows he would be identified sooner or later, and without some flexibility to do what’s needed, he would likely find himself pinned under a hail of bullets like his brothers in blue.

And you. How could he leave you? You must be so scared right now. He looks over to you and to his shock, not only do you look calm and determined, you’re holding out the black cashmere scarf that you’ve unwound from your neck, offering it to him in your open hands.

Javi looks at down the scarf, then up at you – confused, stunned.

Pushing your scarf towards him, you give your brave boyfriend a wise and reassuring smile, “Take it, Javi. You need to cover your face, don’t you?”

It takes Javi more time than the situation affords him to comprehend what you’re saying. How long have you known? His world is simultaneously eerily still yet wildly spinning, with you at its calm centre. Wordlessly, Javi takes your scarf and wraps it swiftly around his head until only his eyes remain exposed, securing the ends with a tight knot against the back of his head so his makeshift mask doesn’t slip.

Your eyes now wide and worried, you nonetheless press a confident kiss to Javi’s lips through the luxurious fabric, “I’ll be fine, I promise. Go and be careful, my love.”

Feeling Javi return your affections and the air of something like ‘thank you’ puff through the soft wool against your lips, you hold steady the look of adoration and devotion in his chocolate brown eyes with one of your own before you see them turn towards the ongoing cacophony of bullets with a steely resolve.

Holding your breath, you watch your Javi slip into the night. “Come back to me,” you whisper, unaware that you’ve already been gifted the promise of his safe return.

#javier pena #vigilante au #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years ago

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Sin Without Limits (Javier Peña x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

*gif not mine*

Warnings: MDNI, Narcos Season 2 and 3 spoilers, canon-usual violence, unhinged behaviour from Agent Peña and reader, unprotected p in v sex, choking, spanking (?), oral (m and f receiving), knife play (if you squint), overstimulation, angst, swearing

A/N: bruh I just cleaned this one up and I'm appalled at what I have written but enjoy. I’ve written a secondary plot (and changed some sequence) to what happened at the end of season two heh

Word count: 7.7 k (wtf)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You trained your gaze on him as you leaned your entire weight onto the truck. You watched him pace and scan the officers before him, his hand clenching and unclenching as he tried to stim his anxiety away. Watching a DEA Agent act skittish is not always the best thing in your books.

You felt your breath quickening slightly as Steve slapped his back and beckoned you to join them. You jogged to keep up with them as they jumped into a truck. You turn in the front seat to look at him. The eye contact he made with you for a millisecond told you everything you needed to know. Javier Peña looked absolutely terrified.

“...armed men…”

“Checkpoint…”

You caught a few words of what Steve was trying to tell the both of you and you realized that your suspicions that you had been having for the past few days are slowly unfolding to show you a harsh reality, a reality that you were not ready to admit to. You watch from the truck as Javier convinced the men to lower their weapons, after Steve’s failed attempt. The way you could pin-point the shiver in Javier’s hands even from a distance made you curse yourself for being so aware. You watch his hands curl up to clutch the collar of his bullet-proof vest, as he spoke to Steve, the one constant tell that you could pull from him and your heart broke under the pressure that your brain was putting you through.

You masked the heart wrenching pain that you were going through until Steve left the office. It was just you and Javier, like how it had been for the past few months, working late, going home to nothing but the empty shells. You hadn’t even noticed you were staring at him until he called your name.

“Everything good, mariposa?” He said, squinting through his cigarette smoke.

You had to confront him, this was your only chance. You nod and try to find the right words.

“Just wondering how Los Pepes always manage to get there before we can.” you say softly, picking at a hangnail on your finger.

You catch Javier shrugging on your peripheral and decide your next best move.

“What if there's someone here who’s telling them what to do?” you said, locking your eyes with him.

“Well, a rat wouldn’t be surprising to me, that's how this world works, mariposa.” he huffed, setting down his cigarette and rubbing his face with his hands.

“Hmm.” you got up and pushed Javier’s chair away from his desk, perching above it as you stared down at him. “Javs?”

He looks up at you, but his eyes don't find yours, settling to look past them.

“Look at me.” you whispered, tracing his jaw with your fingers.

“I am.”

“No, look at me properly, Javs, or I swear to god-”

He does, and that gives you all the confirmation you need.

“You’re fucking around with Los Pepes, aren’t you?” you murmur, your eyes wide with fear.

Javier nods slowly as he looks away from you. You gasp softly as a tear runs down your cheek. You slid off his desk and turned away from him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Marip-”

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Javier?!” you scream before he could continue. “And don’t fucking call me that.”

“It’s not a big deal, I’m handling it.” he said getting up from his seat and walking towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed, that I can fucking assure you. Those assholes are killing innocent people in their quest to take down Escobar, you know? People who don’t deserve to fucking die, Javier.” you said, shaking his hand off you. “Their blood will be on your fucking hands.”

Suddenly, you found yourself being slammed into a nearby wall. Javier was towering over you, a glowering look etched upon his face.

“I need you to shut that pretty mouth of yours. We all are working towards one goal, don’t you dare blame me for trying out my last option.” he snarled. “Anyway, what the fuck can you even do about it, report me?”

You stared up at him, your gaze hardened and unfaltering.

“What if I did? You’re gonna go down their fucked up root, Javier? Hmm? Go on, kill me then for knowing your little secret.” you mocked him, straightening your back and standing a little taller.

Javier’s breath hitched a little but he didn’t budge.

“They are going to use you like the whore you are and then when they’re done with you, they’re gonna put a bullet through this thick skull of yours and leave you all fucked out.” you spat.

The next thing you know, Javier’s hand was around your throat as he flattened you against the wall with his entire body weight. He wasn’t squeezing you, but a rush of panic settled in the pit of your stomach as you stared into the raging fire in his eyes. He moved forward until his face was next to yours as your hand reached up to grab at his.

“Want me to show you what a whore can do?” his lips grazed the shell of your ear as your breath quickened.

He brought his face in front of yours until the both of you were nose to nose. You could see every tiny detail on his face and if he got any closer his lips would be on yours. You contemplated making the first move as Javier’s fingers flexed at your throat, pushing a whole flow of arousal straight down between your legs. A part of you almost forgot why he had you pinned against the wall, and it made you a little afraid by the way he was taking you apart just with one swift move.

The sound of the phone ringing brought Javier out of his trance and he immediately let go of you. You immediately hurry away from him and grab your jacket, not even turning to look back at him as adrenalin pushes you to jog out of the office.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Javier kept his aviators on inside as he squinted at the work he was doing. He could clearly remember what he had done to you but could only vaguely remember what happened after that. He had drowned himself in whatever liquor he could find lying around and stumbled into the office in the morning with an almighty hangover that could rival the power of two colossal giants fighting. He obviously felt awful about how he treated you yesterday and dreaded leaving his apartment in the morning. Steve gave him an understanding pat on the back, handing him a painkiller which Javi took gingerly and accidentally made eye contact with you.

You instinctively looked away from him, his warning from last night ringing loud and clear in your head when you slyly glanced at the wall that he had pinned you to. In a weird turn of events, you still couldn’t decide whether you were scared or turned on by his threat. Although, you do have to admit that calling him a whore was a little over the top, despite all of the picturesque rumours you had heard about him. Being the only woman on the team meant that you had to deal with questioning individuals from the red-light district and that ultimately gave you a clear idea of what Javier Peña’s sex life sounded like and you hated yourself that you were slightly intrigued. Your thoughts were interrupted again when Javier slid a tiny piece of paper in front of you and walked away. You raised an eyebrow at his retreating figure as you grabbed the note.

Mens. Stall five. Now.

You were still pissed at the way he was engaging with Los Pepes. Javier is practically giving them full leeway to do whatever they please, but if he seems to think that if that's the way they are going to get to Escobar, then so be it. Besides, you’d like to see how this plan of his plays out, despite the part of you that is scared shitless about the consequences that he might face after this ordeal.

You rolled your eyes and got up only to be stopped by your boss. You froze and crumpled the paper in your hand, stuffing it into your pocket as fast and discreetly as possible.

“Agent, how are things?” she asks, staring you down with her usual demeanour.

“All good, boss.” you feigned a smile as your eyes end up landing on that good awful wall again, making your eye twitch slightly.

“Good, good. I expect to see you at the party tonight.” Messina says, catching you off guard.

“Hmm?”

“You know the state party?”

The fucking state party. You almost forgot that you were invited entirely. Who in their right mind holds a party in the middle of a narco war?

“Yea, of course, I’ll be there.” You said beaming at Messina.

Sure, you had nothing to wear but whatever to please Messina, you’ll figure something out soon.

“I’ll see you there then.” You nodded quickly at your boss and quickly walked to the mens as soon as she was out of your sight.

As soon as you opened the door to stall five, Javier used his brute strength to pull you in, making you collide with his chest.

“Ouch, man, I have legs, I can invite myself in.” you groaned, rubbing your forehead.

He sits you down on the closed toilet bowl and kneels down in front of you, his eyes coated in exhaustion as he gazes up at you.

“Lo siento, mariposa.” he murmured, taking your hand in his.

“For pulling me into the stall or for working wit-�� Javier cuts you off by pressing a hand to your lips.

“For everything.” Javier drops his hand and tugs at your collar, exposing your neck.

His fingers softly trace the skin of your neck as he examines you and you felt slightly frozen by the way he was touching you. To think that those hands were capable of killing a man and having those hands so close to a vulnerable spot caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“I don’t bruise easily, Javs, if that's what you’re so worried about.” you whispered, bringing your own hand to meet his.

“Lo-”

“Say that you’re sorry again and I’ll kick you in the dick and walk out. I think you know that if I wanted to disarm you yesterday, I could have. I have work to do dumbass, so what's up?” you rushed through your words, noting how Javier’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I need your help.” Javier says after a moment of silence.

You nodded him along and he gulped, his eyes downcast at your shoes.

“I heard from my CI that there is going to be a person at the state party that's going to be the key for some information that I need.” He whispers. “I need you to help me get that information.”

“And is this information for us, or for Los Pepes?” you say, curling a finger under Javier's chin and tipping his head so that you can catch him if he tries to lie.

“For us.” he said, holding your gaze tightly.

“Why aren’t you asking Murphy?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Obviously because you already know about it, you know?” he hissed and you grinned back at him.

“Hmm, okay.” you hum, surprising Javier.

“That’s it? Man, I thought I had to pull up some waterworks to convince you.” Javier chuckled nervously, rubbing his collarbone.

“Honestly, I’d do anything to get away from Messina at this point. I’m the newest recruit here, she's gonna make me socialise.” you pulled a face, making Javier smile. “Besides, now I’m more valuable to you than Steve.”

“That's my mariposa.” you roll your eyes at his excessive use of the endearing word.

Secretly, you loved it. Mariposa, or “butterfly” sounded a little too close to mi esposa, or “my wife” and it tingles your insides everytime Javier would call you that. Yet, you always find yourself pushing away the thought of having a nice domestic life with Javier the second he does something reckless and stupid. Sometimes you wonder whether he bribed his way through this job because of how dumb he can be.

Javier stands up and pulls you up with him but in that moment the both of you hear the door open. Javier quickly sits back down and taps his thighs, gesturing for you to sit and hide your legs. Your eyes widen as the footsteps get closer to the stall and you silently hook your legs over him and straddle his lap.

“Peña? You in there, man?” Steve’s voice floated through the cracks in the stall’s door.

It was hard to calm your breathing with the way you had slotted your face in Javier’s neck, breathing in a slight hint of aftershave, smokey goodness and clean skin. You poked him for an answer.

“Uh, yea dude, I’m here.” he croaked out, his voice a little strained, probably from the way you were clinging onto him for dear life.

“Come on man, you’re taking a shit at work?” Steve groaned and your body shook as you strained hard to keep the laughter in.

Poor Steve, what a naive man.

“What the hell do you want Steve?” Javier pressed, pulling you closer to stop you from bursting out into laughter.

It must have worked because when Javier pulled you closer, his thigh hit something so devastatingly amazing that you felt yourself being rendered into a shocked silence.

“Hurry up, there’s a meeting we gotta go to. And remember to wash your hands, you filthy fuck!” Steve chortled as he walked out of the mens.

You and Javier waited with baited breath for a few seconds before you brought your face out of the crook of Javier’s neck.

“He didn’t see you walking in he- wait are you okay?” Javier caught the flush look on your face as you turned to look at him.

You blink twice at Javier’s beautiful face before nodding your head vigorously. He hadn’t even touched you and you slowly felt yourself being pulled apart by him. Javier didn’t look convinced but he shrugged it off as he helped you get off from his lap.

“Aight, I will see you later at the state party?” He said, steadying you.

“Yep.” you mumbled, giving him a tight lipped smile as he exited the stall.

When you were sure he had left, you exhaled the breath you were holding and pinched the bridge of your nose.

Today was going to be a long one.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Javier nervously checked his watch for the billionth time. You were late. You were always never late, always clocking in earlier than him. He couldn’t deny that he was trying hard to hide how nervous he felt. He never wanted to bring you into this, but he always had a feeling that you were going to somehow find out anyway. The disappointment he felt was indescribable, he hated himself for being too obvious.

He adjusted his mask again, uncomfortable with the way it was cutting at the soft skin covering the back of his ears. His eyes searched in the sea of masks, hoping that they would land on yours. The dim lighting made it hard to see through the masquerade themed party and Javier strained hard, willing for you to appear.

Suddenly, a beautiful figure steps into his line of sight. Javier couldn’t take his eyes off the figure, watching them sway as their dress hugged them tightly in all the right places, clinging to every curve. The figure walked closer and closer to him until they were in front of him. A long slit exposed a holster that was disguised as a garterbelt, definitely carrying a concealed weapon. Javier instantly recognised your eyes and pushed the mask away to reveal your heavenly face. He stares in disbelief, he had been used to seeing you in suits and minimalistic makeup, and he was ashamed to think that he hadn’t expected this. He felt a rush, a similar rush that he had felt the night before as he scanned your face.

“You look good, dolled up like this.” he murmured, pushing your mask back on.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” you really had toned down your initial compliment, he looked like a prince, the way his hair was styled and the way the tux complemented his beautiful broad shoulders.

He offers you his hand and when you take it, he leads the way into a small closet. He clips a microphone to your neckline and you help him thread the wire through your dress. Javier was quite literally smitten by the way you looked. He resisted the urge to run his hands down your curves and he tried to rid his mind from remembering the way your body had been pressed up against him before. He sighs and kneels down, looking up at you.

“Can I?” he said, gesturing at the transponder and your thigh.

You nod and watch as he gently pulls the slit in your dress aside to hook the tiny transponder onto your holster. His other hand steadied himself by gripping your thigh and you felt like you were going to melt in his grip. A tremor ran through your body and it didn't go unnoticed by Javier. He smiled to himself and purposely tried to let his touch linger, sliding his fingers slowly across your soft skin, savouring the feeling of you. Your breathing gets slightly heavier but you let him do as he pleased.

When he finally hooked the transponder and slowly got up, the eye contact he was making with you sent an army of butterflies to violently collide with your stomach. You could literally cut the thick atmosphere with the knife you had on you as Javier held your gaze like it was his last lifeline. His eyes were slightly hooded and he looked as if he was about to say something when you broke eye contact with him and let your eyes drop to his lips. Before the both of you could do or say anything, the sound of footsteps snapped you out of your haze.

“Alright, the floor is yours, take it away.” Javier cleared his throat, nodding towards the door.

He handed you a key, the key that he booked under a pseudonym so that you could interrogate the intended target away from the prying eyes of people. You took it and slipped it onto your tiny purse, your mind racing. You swallow and nod, hoping your guise was enough to mask you from the people you were going to eavesdrop and enough to mask the lust that was blooming for Javier Peña.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You let Javier lead you through the sea of masks, as he searched for his intended target. You felt out of place, watching people dance while you followed him around to do his bidding.

“Javs?” you whisper, pulling him closer to you

“Hmm?” he turned to look at you.

“Dance with me.”

“But-”

“I said, dance with me, I have a plan.” you said firmly, pulling his hand to settle it onto your waist.

He stares at you for a second and again you feel as if the whole world has stopped around you. You found yourself craving for his attention, to feel his hands on you again and only then you could think on how to make the next move. He readjusted his hand that was at your waist and held you firmer, his confidence radiating out of him as he laced his free hand with yours. You tried to refrain from savouring the feeling of your hand on his tough shoulder but you slowly felt yourself being lost to him as he started to lead the both of you into a slow dance.

You straightened your back and kept your eyes trained on Javier only looking past him when you judged it was safe. You spotted your prey, a lawyer who was known to make deals with the cartels. You tapped Javier twice on his shoulder and he turned the both of you around, immediately spotting the lawyer from where the both of you were standing. You could feel his grip tightening slightly as he pulled you closer to him, your arm trapped between your two bodies.

You were so close to Javier’s jaw, surveying its sharp edge as he gritted his teeth. It was perfectly sculptured as if an artist had taken a chisel to it. Before you could think twice, you pressed your lips to his jaw, leaving a light imprint of red lipstick. The tip of your nose dug into his cheek, and when you breathed in you could smell the delicious scent of his aftershave, intoxicating you and driving you to do what you need. Javier’s grip loosened and you pulled yourself away from him to walk towards the lawyer, turning to wink at the stunned Javier as you parted the sea of disguised individuals, your lipstick stain staining like a work of art on the canvas that is his beautiful face.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It didn’t take long for Javier to find another woman to dance with. He kept a watchful eye on you, but willed to keep his distance. He continued to grit his teeth and lock his jaw to contain every ounce of violence that was trying to emit out of him as he watched the dirty lawyer run a finger up your bare arm. He tried not to push the woman he was dancing with aside as the lawyer suddenly grabbed you and pulled you flush against his body. Javier could hear your giggle and it made his blood boil hot watching you being touched like that. His eyes followed you as you led the lawyer to the room, partially glad that his plan was unfolding.

When Javier got to the outside of the room, he held his gun in front of him in his usual defensive stance, hoping that you had enough in you to overpower the lawyer. He heard a thud and he immediately swung the door open and found you standing over the lawyer, the sharp edge of your high heel pressed firmly where his sternum was. You smirked as you crouched low, putting all of your weight onto the foot that was atop the lawyer’s chest. You smoothly pulled out your blade from your holster and mockingly shushed the lawyer as he screamed while you made a spectacle of cleaning the blade.

You could feel Javier’s eyes on you but you didn’t acknowledge his presence. You could tell that he was undoubtedly staring at you while you blatantly flirted with the lawyer on the dance floor. You wanted Javier to feel the anger, to know that you were risking almost everything for him. You hold the blade at the lawyer's throat and smile innocently at him.

“My informants have given me a tip that you have been in contact with a certain important sicario. Tell me where La Quiqa is hiding and I’ll think of sparing your measly life.” you hiss in Spanish, pressing the blade slightly harder.

Blood beaded at the edge of your knife and you raised your eyebrow amusedly as the man below you whimpered and begged for his life. He turned to Javier and started to beg him instead and you rolled your eyes at the man and slapped the lawyer.

“Don’t you dare think for a second that I am more patient than my partner here. I’ll slit your throat open before you can feel the bullet passing through your skull.” you continued to jeer.

“Okay fine! I’ll tell you where La Quiqa is!” the lawyer screamed.

You kept your heel planted firmly against the lawyer’s chest as Javier rang Steve. The second the information was passed across, you stepped off the lawyer and he scrambled away from you. Javier caught him by the collar and pulled him up.

“You do not breathe a word about this to a single person, or I swear to god, I'll unload this gun in your mouth.” he sneered before pushing the man out of the room.

Once he was gone, you perched onto the edge of the bed.

“Won’t he go and warn La Quiqa?” you question.

Javier stayed silent for a while. He then suddenly walked towards you and got onto his knees, removing your high heels from your feet and setting them aside. He had already given Los Pepes the information that the lawyer would be outside of the hotel within seconds. He made a deal that the police force gets to arrest La Quiqa while Los Pepes can extract information from the lawyer, which was a win in his books.

“He won’t get far.” was all that he said as he looked up at you, his hand massaging your calf.

You lean forward and take his face in your hands. One of your hands fan out and you stroke his cheek, and he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. He wrenched them open again almost as if he didn’t want to lose sight of you. His hand at your calf reached out to grab your arm and he slowly started to rub your skin. You knew he was trying to erase the lawyer’s touch off you and you smiled at the gesture.

“What?” you question, reading his eyes, knowing he had something to say.

“I can’t stand it.” he whispered.

“Stand what?”

“The way he had his hands on you.” Javier’s hands were shaking now and you could see a fire raging in his dark brown eyes.

“Javs, we just needed the infor-”

“I don’t like it when people touch what is mine.” he growled slightly, making your heart leap to your throat.

“I’m not-”

“You are.” he confirmed firmly, his chest heaving now with shallow puffs of his breath.

“Then, show me how I’m yours.” you sighed, your lungs constricting your last bit of oxygen.

Javier stands up, and you could tell that there was a shift in his demeanour at your words as he gazes down at you. He towers over you, looking absolutely dazzling under the dim lighting.

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“Of course I am.” you say a little too quickly for your liking.

“Kneel.” He says, his voice edging lower, sending an array of goosebumps at the nape of your neck as your vision blurred slightly.

But you kept your chin up and knelt between his feet.

“What? Not gonna kiss me first, Peña?” You smirked, knowing that you were pushing his buttons. “Too used to fucking whores?”

He smoothed out the hair that fluttered to your forehead, running his fingers through your locks until he got to the nape of your neck. Suddenly, his hand grabs you by your hair and your eyes widen. He tips his head to the side and surveys the look on your face.

“No, I’m gonna fuck you like the teasing brat you are. I’ll only kiss you when I know you’ve learnt your lesson.” He gives you a smug smile.

His hand loosened its hard grip, leaving a delicious stinging sensation at your scalp. His fingers trailed to your lips, tapping them.

“Open, mariposa.” you were positive that he knew how that nickname made you feel and your jaw automatically dropped open.

“So she does follow instructions.” he said pointedly before leaning over and spitting in your mouth.

You knew from that second that the man before you was not going to let you off easy and a small voice at the back of your head was giggling gleefully at the prospect of your night. You closed your mouth and swallowed, only to open it up right away, making Javier nod in appreciation. You edge closer, placing your hands on his legs.

“Go on, take what you need.” you were already running your hand up his thigh before he could finish his sentence.

You cup his hardened bulge and he hisses, but surprisingly lets you have your way. Your fingers shake slightly as you undo his slacks, letting them fall to his ankles, revealing that he had in fact gone commando. You would have rolled your eyes if you didn’t take note of how big he was. Your sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed by Javier and he watched as you shifted your weight from one knee to the other slightly nervously.

“Like what you see?” he questioned smugly.

You couldn’t let him know you were anywhere close to backing out, you wanted this as much as he did. You spit on your hand and grab his length, pumping him from base to tip, letting your thumb graze his tip only to watch him writhe slightly.

“I’ve seen better.” you smirked back, looking up at him from under your lashes.

Before he could form a retort, you licked a long strip down his cock and whatever he was going to say was mingled in a strangled moan. You continued with small controlled kitten licks, testing out all his soft spots before closing your mouth over the tip and sucking softly. Taking your time, you invite him into your mouth at a slow pace, partially teasing him and partially adjusting yourself to his size.

You gradually swallowed around him, gagged slightly when he pistoned his hips slightly forward. He pushed you on and you swallowed around him, making him groan proudly as he bottomed out into your mouth, your nose nestling in his curls.

“Look who’s the whore now.” he managed to say as his hands found your hair to grab onto.

You rolled your eyes at him and began to move your mouth along him, sucking him hungrily. He sang his praises, incoherent moans spilling out of him. He wanted to punish you, to teach you a lesson, but how could he when you were taking him so well, without a single complaint or cry. It made him want to worship you instead. But the primal creature inside of him forbade it and it took over him, making him pull out of your mouth and slam back. You choked around him but the sounds that he made spurred you on, letting your tongue lick his underside. Your perfectly done makeup was most definitely ruined as you felt your eyes water. You both were definitely in a game of seeing who could tap out and for a second you thought that you could in fact overpower this man.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Javier suddenly pulls you off him but didn't give you a chance to take a breath, pulling you up to your feet and letting his lips meet yours in a frenzied fashion,

“Lose your limits, mariposa, just give me a chance to prove to you just what I can do.” he pulled away and commanded sinfully, but he might as well had just done it straight to your cunt from the way you were already soaking.

“What are you waiting for Javs?” you exhaled and he reclaimed your lips with his.

He pressed himself hard against you, making you moan as he showed off his possessiveness. He licked into your mouth, groaning at how sweet you tasted. You could taste cigarettes on his breath and it instinctively made you want to rut your hips against his hard on, an aroused buzz coursing through your veins. He pulled away slightly, not before nipping your lips and drawing another moan from you.

Javier pushed you down onto the bed, falling on top of you. He dragged the tip of his nose down your neck and sunk his teeth into the soft skin of your neck. You reeled at the pain that surged up your spine before crying out loud at the way he started to kiss and suck your neck. You were pretty sure that he was thinking about you claiming that you don’t bruise easily, making it his priority to mark you with all he’s got. When he was satisfied, he pulled away and smirked at you before flipping you over. You felt the bed dip around you as Javier’s fingertips grazed the back of your neck, moving your hair aside.

You felt his hand at your holster, slowly pulling out your blade and letting it skim across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps, making you whimper slightly. Suddenly, you felt it at your dress, the sharp edge almost touching you as it tore your dress open. You were mad but it was was your turn to smirk as Javier gasped at the surprise that met his eyes. His knuckle skimmed your skin and you could tell that he was staring open mouthed at the delicate branch of flowers trailing along your spine.

“Fuck, youre fucking beautiful.” he hissed, feeling like it was Christmas, hastily pulling away your dress like it was wrapping paper to reveal you all bear for him, tossing it aside with your knife.

You were completely naked under your dress and Javier was impressed. He let his hands explore you, leaving no inch of skin unattended.

“Stop being a fucking tease.” you moan, secretly relishing the way he was taking his time.

Suddenly, he smacks your ass hard, drawing a muffled moan from you as you bury your face in the sheets, before flipping you over again. He immediately ran his hands up and down your body, quenching his quest of wanting to touch you. The shape of your body drove him mad and he wanted to worship you, to make you call out to him and only him.

He testily palm at your tits, moaned together, you at the stimulation, him at the way you felt under his hand. He tweaked your hardening nipples, making you writhe and moan. While you were distracted, your legs fell open and Javier brushed a finger through your slick, making you moan.

“Fuck, Javs…” you breathed as he pushed a finger inside of you and brought it back out for you to taste.

“I bet you taste great, but I’ll get mine straight from the source.” he smirked, as your tongue swirled around his finger, sucking it the way you did his cock.

Your clit is warm and throbbing under his touch and you shudder as he starts to massage it back and forth. He bends down and his tongue licks slowly up your wetness, parting your pussy lips and teasing your clit, going absolutely feral at the way you tasted.

You shiver and moan, arching your hips trying to get him to lick you more. Instead he stops and you immediately whimper and bite your lip trying not to show how badly you wanted him to keep licking. You grind your hips against his face, your clit catching his nose and you whine, grabbing onto his hair and pulling him closer to your pussy. He finally caves in and gives you what you want, holding you down and pushing his tongue into you.

He greedily fucks you with his tongue, putting in a new meaning to eating you out as his hands spread you wide open and his tongue scoops out every remnant of your wetness. Your clit isn’t abandoned with the way his thumb gave it all of its attention. It doesn’t take long before it’s too much and you start to feel the orgasm start to wash over you. Your body bucks involuntarily at his touch as he slows it to match your moans. His big dark brown eyes watches you intently from his vantage point, wanting to see how the first orgasm he gives you absolutely wreaks havoc on your body.

You were absolutely out of it, the orgasm ripping every cell in your body in half, rendering you absolutely useless. You shook in Javier’s arms, only vaguely hearing his praises as they floated their way into your ears. Your eyes are shut and you didn’t realise that he was already plotting his next plan to destroy you. You feel something nudge your entrance and Javier slips into you without any resistance, and his lips are back on your mouth, swallowing your moans.

One of his hands found yours, gripping them at the wrist and breaking the kiss only to pin them over your head. He held them firmly, one wrist between his thumb and index finger and the other wrist between his index and middle finger, locking them in position as he started pistoning his hips. Your eyes were hooded as you looked up at him, indulging the way sweat made his face shine and glow.

“You look fucking deadly like this, cariño, all spread out for me.” he grunts as his cock continued its assault on your pussy.

You clench down around him and he slumps slightly, not expecting that move from you as you lazily pull your lips into a smirk. He pushes on deeper, hitting all the best spots, pressing down on your wrists harder. You feel your juices squelch out of you and onto the bed. Your tits jiggle harder and the bed frame creaked with Javier’s thrusts as he slowly lost himself in you.

“Javs, yes… don’t stop, please…” you whine as he keeps slamming into you harder.

“Say my name again,” one thrust.

You mumble, trying your best to let his name tumble out of your voice box.

“Please, say it.” he trusts again.

“Javier…” his cock literally pushes his name out of you.

Suddenly, Javier pulls out and flips you over before you could lean towards your pleasure. You whimper at the emptiness you felt, your pussy fluttering around nothingness. You felt your arms being gathered at your back by one of Javier’s arms and he bent you backwards so that your chest stuck out. You gasped for air, sweat sticking bits of your hair to your forehead.

“Who do you belong to?” his mouth was back on your neck, leaving kisses in between his questions.

“You…” you clearly did by the way he had just used you.

“Never going to let a filthy criminal touch you again.” he growled in your ear and you smiled, coming to your senses.

“Says the criminal who is touching me.” you feel a spike in your confidence as the words leave your mouth, only to have it crashing back to ground zero as Javier dropped you onto the bed.

“Oh you’re going to regret that, mariposa.” he says and you could visualise him grabbing his cock and feeling the stretch as he shoves himself back into you.

His hand inched its way around your throat, and he pulled you up again, making you choke. Your pussy betrayed you as you clenched down on him, making him laugh deliriously.

“You fucking like it when I did that to you yesterday, didn’t you, you slut.” his hand grips harder at your throat, squeezing ever so slightly, his touch is forceful, masterful, alluring with the hidden depths of just the right amount of sensuality as he pulls your head closer to his. You helplessly tried to ask him to keep going, came out of your mouth like hot garbage from the strain his hand was putting on your throat.

“Harder, I need it harder.” you breathlessly spoke.

“I know, baby, I know” his soft words were a huge contrast with the way he was manhandling you.

Now all you can think of is his hard cock, there’s a pulsing in your head, a dizzying, nauseating feeling overcomes your entire body. You can feel his hard body pressing against yours and all thoughts of the night left your head, leaving a void that was soon filled with disgusting, disturbing thoughts. You want this man to fucking ruin you, you had tasted the sin on his lips and you couldn’t help yourself but want more.

Moaning and whimpering you cum before you even know what’s happening. It was blinding again and you literally lost all sight as your tight cunt contracts and squeezes his cock as tight as you can over and over again in time with his hips thrusts. He doesn’t stop pounding your wet cunt and you let him chase his own orgasm as more filth spills out of his mouth. He makes a wet slapping sound as he fucks you from behind.

After a few more seconds of fucking your cunt you feel him tense up. He lets go of your neck and pulls your hips tight to his and his cock flexes and then begins to spurt his hot cum into you. He folds his body over yours, grunting as he tries to catch his breath, subconsciously canting his hips forward to ride out his own orgasm. His sweaty skin was sticking to yours as you felt his moustache against your neck.

“Fuck, Javs.” you say first, feeling his heartbeat against your back.

“Lo siento-”

“And he’s apologising again! What now, Peña?” you sigh.

Javier stays silent for a while before pressing his lips to your shoulder. The air around the both of you smelled like crazy sex and your brain was still slowly coming down from its high.

“Sorry for calling you a slut.” his hand trailed against your spine, tracing your tattoo.

“Jezz, Javs, you know I like it.” you said, keening into his touch as he smiled against your skin.

“I’m sorry for calling you a whore too.” you said, smirking as Javier’s hand kneaded your ass. “Although, I do mean it, you’re fuckin’ freaky as hell.”

“You’re welcome.” his hand left your cheek and came back down with a sharp smack.

Slowly he pulled out of you and you groaned, feeling his cum seep out of you. Two of his fingers pushed his cum back in, to no avail and he eyes your cunt as he does it over and over, accidentally pulling another orgasm out of your sensitive cunt from his trance.

“Oops.” he mumbles before gently flipping you onto your back and walking to the bathroom.

He slowly wipes you with a warm towel, avoiding any part of you that could have been potentially sensitive before tossing it aside and laying beside you. You pull his head into your chest and he leaves soft promising kisses onto your tits as you wrap your legs around his torso. You both fall asleep like that, not another word leaving your mouths as the after effects of your madness lulled the both of you into deep and dark dreams.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were not surprised when you woke up to an empty bed. A pile of fresh clothes sat at the edge and you sighed, willing yourself not to tear up at the abandonment you felt coursing through your veins. You stumbled into work all sore, every part of you hurting from the way Javier had treated you, including your heart. Cheers greeted you and you pulled your collar tightly around your neck as Steve stepped towards you with a cup of what suspiciously looked like whiskey.

“Let me guess, you guys got La Quiqa?” you said, taking the cup from Steve.

“Yep.”

You looked around for the one you needed to see the most but your eyes never caught him.

“I’m guessing you haven’t heard about Javier?” Steven suddenly says, making your eyes snap towards him instantly.

“What?”

“He turned himself in, just got on the flight back to D.C. for his re-evaluation.” Steve says, shrugging, but the sadness was evident in his voice.

Your head swimmed as you stared into your cup of whiskey. He has truly left you.

Without even a single goodbye.

You nod to no one in particular, anger driving you to stay upright. You sigh and walk towards your desk.

“What are you waiting for, Murphy?” You said shortly, “We have Escobar to catch.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few months later

Javier sat at the bar and swirled his drink in his hand revealing his past few months. He woke up every morning to the thought of you and tried hard to drink the feeling of you away with bottles of the shit he kept at home. But here he was, back in Bogotá, nervously tapping his leg, wondering when he would ever catch a glimpse of you.

He breathed heavily, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out a cigarette. He placed it between his lips and searched for his lighter, but to no avail. He searched again and was ready to admit defeat when a light suddenly flashed before him.

“Hola patrón. Congratulations on the promotion.”

That voice.

The cigarette dropped out of Javier's mouth as he turned to stare at you. You wore an angry expression on your face, but Javier wasn’t phased. He was so happy to see your beautiful face that a dopey smile unwillingly spread on his face.

“Who’s the criminal now, you thieving little minx.” he snorted, snatching his lighter away.

“You fucking left me, you asshole!” you started to hit him.

He grabbed your arms and pulled you off the bar stool and flush to his body.

“No, I fucked you, then I left you. You need to work on your English, mariposa.” he smirked.

It only made you swing harder, but Javier was quicker, pulling your face towards him with his free hand and locking you down with a bruising kiss. You relax into his kiss and you feel him smile triumphantly and you let him, wrenching your arms out of his grasp and pulling him in by his tie.

You pull away and scowl at him, biting your lip slightly. You take a better look at his getup, smiling slightly at his more professional look, a contrast to the shirts he wore with open buttons.

“You know I had to go, mariposa, I couldn’t do it anymore.” he said, smoothing out your hair and kissing your forehead.

“I know. But that doesn’t make me any less mad.” you say, looking straight into his eyes as he pulled away.

“I know how to make it up to you?” he said, clearly testing the waters.

“Whatever you say, patrón.” you smirked, crashing your lips to his once again.

Translations:

- Mariposa: butterfly

- Los Pepes: Paramilitary group composed of enemies of Pablo Escobar.

- Lo siento: I’m sorry

- Sicario: hitmen

Reblogs are appreciated ~~

- Cariño: sweetheart

2K notes · View notes

kramlabs · 7 months ago

Text

A tale of Two Sovereigns, a Lackey and a Nanny

PEPE ESCOBAR WEDNESDAY 8 MAY 24

The NATOstan lackeys will remain dazed and confused. So what; lackeys lack strategic depth, they just wallow in the shallow waters of irrelevancy.

Startling mirror images swirl around two major developments this week directly inbuilt in the Grand Narrative that shapes my latest book, Eurasia v. NATOstan, recently published in the U.S.: Xi Jinping’s visit to Paris and the inauguration of Vladimir Putin’s new term in Moscow.

Inevitably, this is a contrasting tale of Sovereigns – the comprehensive Russia-China strategic partnership – and lackeys: the NATOstan/EU vassals.

Xi, the quintessential hermetic guest, is quite sharp at reading a table – and we’re not talking about Gallic gastronomic finesse. The minute he sat at the Paris table he got the Big Picture. This was not a tete-a-tete with Le Petit Roi, Emmanuel Macron. This was a threesome because Toxic Medusa Ursula von der Leyen, more appropriately defined as Pustula von der Lugen, had inserted herself in the plot.

Nothing was lost in translation for Xi: this was graphic illustration that Le Petit Roi, the leader of a third-rate former Western colonial power, enjoys zero “strategic autonomy”. The decisions that matter come from the Kafkaesque Eurocracy of the European Commission (EC), led by his Nanny, the Medusa, and directly relayed by the Hegemon.

Le Petit Roi spent the whole of Xi’s Gallic time babbling like an infant on Putin’s “destabilizations” and trying to “engage China, which objectively enjoys sufficient levers to change Moscow’s calculus in its war in Ukraine”.

Obviously no pubescent adviser at the Elysee Palace – and there’s quite a crowd – dared to break the news to Le Petit Roi about the strength, depth and reach of the Russia-China strategic partnership.

So it was up to his Nanny to volunteer out loud the fine print on the “Monsieur Xi comes to France” adventure.

Faithfully parroting Treasure Secretary Janet Yellen in her recent, disastrous Beijing incursion, the Nanny directly threatened the superpowered hermetic guest: you are exceeding in “over-capacity”, you are over-producing; and if you don’t stop it, we will sanction you to death.

So much for European “strategic autonomy”. Moreover, it’s idle to dwell on what can only be described as suicidal stupidity.

Steadfastly defending a debacle

Now let’s switch to what really matters: the chain of events leading to Putin’s lavish fifth inauguration at the Kremlin.

We start with the chief of GRU (main intelligence department) of the General Staff of the Russian Armed Forces, Admiral Igor Kostyukov.

Kostyukov, on the record, actually re-confirmed that right on the eve of the Special Military Operation (SMO), in February 2022, the West was ready to inflict a “strategic defeat” on Russia in Donbass, just as before the Great Patriotic War (Victory Day, incidentally, is celebrated this Thursday not only in Russia but also across the post-Soviet space).

Then the ambassadors of Britain and France were called at the Russian Foreign Ministry. They spent roughly half an hour each, separately, and left without addressing the media. There were no leaks about the reasons for both visits.

Yet that was more than obvious. The Foreign Ministry handed the Brits a serious note in response to David “of Arabia” Cameron’s babbling about using British long-range missiles to attack the territory of the Russian Federation. And to the French, another serious note on Le Petit Roi’s babbling about sending French troops to Ukraine.

Immediately after this compounded NATO babbling, the Russian Federation started drills on the use of tactical nuclear weapons.

So what started as a NATO verbal escalation was counterpunched not only with stern messages but also an extra, clear, stern warning: Moscow will regard any F-16 entering Ukraine as a potential carrier of nuclear weapons – regardless of its specific design. F-16s in Ukraine will be treated as a clear and present danger.

And there’s more: Moscow will respond with symmetric measures if Washington deploys any ground-based intermediate-range nuclear missiles (INF) in Ukraine – or elsewhere. There will be a counterpunch.

All that happened within the framework of astonishing Ukrainian losses in the battlefield over the past two months or so. The only parallels are with the 1980s Iran-Iraq war and the first Gulf War. Kiev, between dead, wounded and missing, may be losing as many as 10,000 soldiers a week: the equivalent of three divisions, 9 brigades or 30 battalions.

No compulsory mobilization, whatever its reach, can counter such debacle. And the much-advertised Russian offensive has not even started yet.

There’s no way the current U.S. administration led by a cadaver in the White House, in an electoral year, is going to send troops to a war that from the beginning was scripted to be fought to the last Ukrainian. And there’s no way NATO will officially send troops to this proxy war, because they will be minced into steak tartare in a matter of hours.

Any serious military analyst knows NATO has less than zero capability to transfer significant forces and assets to Ukraine – no matter the current, grandiloquent Steadfast Defender “exercises” coupled with Macron’s mini-Napoleon rhetoric.

So it’s Ouroboros all over again, the snake biting its own sorry tail: there was never a Plan B to the proxy war. And at the current configuration in the battlefield, plus possible outcomes, we’re back to what everyone from Putin to Nebenzya at the UN have been saying: it’s over only when we say it’s over. The only thing to negotiate is the modality of surrendering.

And of course there will be no sniffin’ sweaty sweatshirt cabal in place in Kiev: Zelensky is already a “Wanted” entity in Russia, and in a few days, from a legal standpoint, his government will be totally illegitimate.

Russia aligns with the world majority

Moscow has to be fully aware that serious threats remain: what NATOstan wants is to test the strategic capability of hitting Russian military, manufacturing or energy installations deep within the Russian Federation. This could be easily interpreted as a last shot of bourbon at the counter before the 404 saloon goes down in flames.

After all, Moscow’s response will have to be devastating, as already communicated by Medvedev Unplugged: “None of them will be able to hide either on Capitol Hill, or in the Elysee Palace, or on Downing Street 10. A world catastrophe will happen.”

Putin, at the inauguration, was cool, calm and collected, unfazed by all the hysterical incandescence across the NATOstan sphere.

These are his main takeaways:

Russia and only Russia will determine its own fate.

Russia will pass through this difficult, milestone period with dignity and become even stronger, it must be self-sufficient and competitive.

The key priority for Russia is safeguarding the people, preserving its age-old values and traditions.

Russia is ready to strengthen good relations with all countries, and with the world majority.

Russia will continue to work with its partners on the formation of a multipolar world order.

Russia does not reject dialog with the West, it is ready for dialog on security and strategic stability, but only on an equal footing.

All that is supremely rational. The problem is the other side is supremely irrational.

Still, a new Russian government will be in place in a matter of days. The new Prime Minister will be appointed by the President after the Duma approves the candidacy.

The new head of the Cabinet must propose to the President and the Duma candidates for deputy prime ministers and ministers – except for the heads of the security bloc and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

The heads of the Ministry of Defense, FSB, Ministry of Internal Affairs, Ministry of Justice, Ministry of Emergency Situations and Ministry of Foreign Affairs will be appointed by the President after consultations with the Federation Council.

All ministerial candidacies will be submitted and considered before May 15.

And all that will happen before the key meeting: Putin and Xi face to face in Beijing on May 17. Everything will be in play – and on the table. Then a new era starts – outlining the path towards the BRICS+ summit next October in Kazan, and the subsequent multipolar moves.

The NATOstan lackeys will remain dazed, confused – and hysterical. So what; lackeys lack strategic depth, they just wallow in the shallow waters of irrelevancy.

#Pepe Escobar #BRICS vs WHIGS #russia #china #Silk Road 2.0 #belt and road initiative #xi #putin

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wannab-urs · 11 months ago

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in the a.m. masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Status: Ongoing loose fit series (no update schedule)

Summary: Between sleeping with informants and getting in bed with Los Pepes in the fight to bring down Escobar, Javier Peña also finds time to be with you. Wrestling with crippling self hatred, Javi tries and fails to keep his blood stained hands off of you. Based on some of my favorite Arctic Monkeys songs <3

Tags: smoking, probably shit spanish, smut, angst, established situationship, emotionally unavailable!Javi, references to past arguments/past hookups because this has been an ongoing thing and I love to start in the middle of a story, loose fit series, trauma, probably, sad!Javi, self hating!Javi, Javi very briefly picks you up, Javi crying, Javi yelling, reader yelling, did I mention angst?

Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Harsher than the Bark - Javi makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, will never feel with anyone else, but he can’t – or won’t – love you.

Crawling Back to You - After some particularly awful shit goes down, Javi distances himself from you. But he always comes crawling back. (NEW)

Inspo Tag | Playlist

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prensabolivariana · 2 months ago

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Pepe Escobar* / The Cradle Viernes 27 de septiembre de 2024 La incapacidad –y la falta de voluntad– de las Naciones Unidas y de su Consejo de Seguridad para detener un genocidio transmitido en vivo lo ha desacreditado más allá de cualquier posible redención. Cualquier resolución seria que inflija graves consecuencias a la psicopatología mortal de Israel fue, es y será bloqueada en el Consejo de Seguridad de la ONU. Continue reading La ONU no protegerá a Gaza, pero puede adoptar un «Pacto para el Futuro»

#Featured #Opinión #Pepe Escobar

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creedslove · 2 years ago

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DESERVE IT - PART SIX

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You give Javi some time to explain his connection with Los Pepes and a conversation makes you realize your feelings for Javier are still confusing.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut, smut, (but without details for no spoilers) Javi being sweet, and then being jealous

A/N: that's not my best chapter but if you guys want Javi and reader together here's some crumbles

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

• PART FOUR

• PART FIVE

4.1k words

Javier paced the room and rubbed his face, still not believing how all that shit happened.

He knew working with Los Pepes wasn't a smart move, but he was so done, so fed up and at that moment, it was the only way out to stop Escobar's terrorism spree. If the cops weren't strong enough, maybe the criminals who didn't agree with his ways could be.

He wasn't proud of it but after Carrillo's death he realized something should be done as fast as possible. When a strong man like Carrillo was cowardly murdered in a trap, he saw anyone could be killed like that. Fuck, Murphy and himself should've been there, they should've been dead by then and the only reason they got away was pure luck.

He could deal with his self hatred, with his shame and how low he got, but he couldn't deal with all that coming from you.

He wasn't stupid, you were both past that point, you did hate him, and you couldn't stand him, but until then, no matter how bad he hurt you, it was on the personal side. Not that it hurt any less, but he knew it was bound to happen, he always screwed things up and even if he hadn't pushed you away at that moment, he would break your heart one way or another.

But he still had your respect as a cop, as an agent, especially after he'd saved you from Carlos, you still admired him professionally, but now? He was sure he was nothing to you.

He didn't know what options he had now, if had any at all, you'd said you wouldn't tell anyone, but were you telling the truth? Maybe he scared you off acting like a creep earlier, but he couldn't control himself, it just happened and when he realized, he was already pressing your body against the wall, he already had his lips on your skin, it was a sudden need, his body ached for it and all he wanted to do at that moment was to show you he wasn't a dirty cop and he still your Javi.

Your Javi.

He wished he was still your Javi, he missed that dearly.

He thought of lighting up another cigarette but gave up, getting the envelope in hands and crossing the hall. He knocked on your door insistently. He knew you were there and he hadn't seen any indications your prince charming was around, so he waited patiently until you opened it.

His jaw tightened the moment he saw you wrapped in nothing but a towel, you had just got out of the shower and his cock twitched inside his tight jeans. Fuck, you were gorgeous and your body was tempting and inviting. If he could, he would just wrap his arms around your body and press you against the wall. He wouldn't have strength to take you to the bathroom, he would just get on his knees and eat your pussy right there and then before fucking you in the middle of your living room.

You, on the other hand, managed to calm down after you locked yourself inside, you stopped crying and tried to rationalize things instead of leaving it to your heart. You felt crushed at finding out Javier was involved with drug dealers, you could never expect that from him, you always assumed Javi was one of the best agents DEA had in Colombia, his work results were really impressive, you knew how much this job took a toll on the agents, how dark and depressed they eventually got, it was the kind of duty that often broke them, and yet you'd seen Javier being so human at work more than once.

Before he treated you like garbage and you fell out, you had plenty examples of what a sweet man he could be.

He was so kind to people, to you, to kids, and even if he insistently said he wasn't much of a cat person, he still fed the stray one that walked around the building some leftovers.

So could he really be a double agent?

You weren't sure, but apparently he desperately wanted you to believe he was not a dirty cop. He was so desperate he repeated that over and over, while his face was buried in the crook of your neck and his lips dragging small kisses on your skin, or when he had his face buried between your breasts and was getting so dangerously close to your nipples.

Just the mere memory of it was enough to bring that familiar tingle back in a place that longed for a man's touch.

So when you realized Javier was working his sinister power of making you inappropriately turned on, you knew it was time to go for a shower.

You even managed to relax and get your mind off that for a while but when you heard knocks on the door, you knew your torment was about to begin again.

Funny how you just knew it was Javier knocking on your door, you didn't have any external clue, just a hunch it would be him, and once you opened the door, there he was.

You could tell his monkey brain had forgotten absolutely every word he had rehearsed telling you the moment he saw you standing there with only one towel around your body. Of course it wasn't appropriate but at that point you were just so tired you invited him inside and told him to lock the door.

You turned your back to him and disappeared into the hallway, leaving your bedroom only when you were finally fully clothed. The disappointment in his eyes was visible and you just wanted to scoff at his nerve in thinking that after everything you would still welcome him naked and fuck him on the couch just like one of those cheap porn movies he probably enjoyed watching.

"What are you doing here, Javier? I thought we'd already talked about everything… I know I have nothing else to say to you"

Javi placed both hands on his waist and nodded "I know you don't, but I gotta tell you a few things and you will listen to me"

You rubbed your forehead and weighed your options: you could either willingly let Javier explain himself or you could ask him to leave and that would lead into another argument and accusations and you were just exhausted of that, not to mention Javier has his ways of making you hear, he proved that earlier by almost making you cheat on your boyfriend.

You were really enjoying your relationship with Manu, but you also knew Javier and how powerful his touch was and you also knew yourself enough not to trust the two of you so close like that. You just couldn't play with fire.

So you got up, grabbed a bottle of wine, two glasses and allowed Javier to start.

You listened through one, two, three, four glasses of wine.

Javi made sure to explain to you detail by detail, how he felt the night Carrillo executed those boys and how he began losing faith in the police. Then Carrillo was executed in a humorless action of destiny and he turned to the most unlikely ally to defeat Pablo Escobar.

You didn't interrupt him and once Javier had finished his account you could see he got even more relaxed, of course it could just be the effect of alcohol but he was so relieved he didn't have to keep that secret all by himself and he could finally feel like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder.

He killed the rest of the wine and stared at you, waiting for what you had to say.

You shook your head and sighed, letting all his words sink in.

Javier wasn't a double agent, he kinda was actually, but he didn't benefit from that deal with Los Pepes, and he didn't give them privileged information from the DEA unless it was about Pablo's sicarios whereabout. The body count that grew each passing day had a lot of Peña's doing. But none of those dead bodies when they were still alive were good people, and they wouldn't hesitate to do much worse than what Javier was doing.

In conclusion, what Javier was doing was wrong, but you didn't really care, you knew he was helping make the streets safer even if it was in a twisted way.

What really concerned you was his integrity. It was dangerous, and what if they thought he wasn't useful anymore? What would happen to him? You remembered you left him waiting for words of support or despise or anything at all, what he couldn't bear was the silence.

"I don't like this, Javi" you admitted and bit your lips "it's dangerous, if the DEA finds out about it, you can lose your badge, you can go to jail! And that's not even the worst part: you can get yourself killed!"

He knew you were right and he wished he could turn back in time and undo all the shit he had done, he hated to see how worried you were, the hint of disbelief and disappointment that still lingered there.

"Just like Steve's cat!"

You quickly added and saw how Javi let out some belly chuckles at your words. For some reason that sounded inappropriately funny and you couldn't help but laugh as well, the best example you could think of was a dead cat and for whatever reason it amused Javier.

It'd been a really long time since you two had shared a laugh and you only realized how much you truly missed it at that moment. He was able to calm down and took a deep breath, going oddly silent and took your hand, holding it in his

"If I were killed, would you care?"

He asked you in a low, shy voice and tried reading your expression, he just needed to know if you still had any good feelings left for him or if he had just screwed things up royally and there was nothing left of the two of you.

You stared at him in disbelief, biting your lips as you observed his sweet brown eyes, making you melt on the inside. You liked Manu's eyes, but now you were so close to Javi, you were sure no one could beat his warm pools of brown, looking like a lost puppy craving for love.

"Javi" you whispered and saw how big his hand was compared to yours, how his long fingers stroked your skin in a caress "of course I would care… I-I think I would die too"

You admitted and saw how his expression got indecipherable this time, you felt so exposed, so raw to admit that, but when he pulled you for a hug you knew you had done the right thing by being honest with Javi. You also needed to be honest with yourself. You still had pretty strong feelings for Javier, he was your everything, you wanted to make things work with Manu, but Javi owned your heart in a way you thought no other man ever would.

"I think you should go home now, Javi" you told him gently and he nodded, he knew now you still had feelings for him, and he had feelings for you, but Javier decided to do the honorable thing and step away. For once, he was going to respect your decision and only if you admitted to yourself first and to him you wanted him, he would be with you.

•••

"So, Connie's back and we're having a barbecue so we want to invite you, Y/N" Steve said with a grin as you stood by his desk. Once more, some documents and files had been delivered wrongly to your department and you had to take a trip to the DEA division to hand it over.

You felt kind of guilty to think the last time you were there and you went snooping through Carlos' desk and found the evidence on Javier. You knew the correct thing would be giving them to Steve and reporting Javier for his illicit actions, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Instead, you gave them to Javier and promised you wouldn't say a thing.

Still, your eyes ran around the room, silently checking for another yellow envelope like that, whoever took those pictures and tried ratting on Javi could try doing it again.

You realized you weren't paying attention to Steve, so he just laughed softly, he'd been in great spirits ever since his wife returned. So he didn't even care if the world was falling into pieces.

"I said you can take Manu if you'd like, and maybe Javi can bring his girlfriend" he winked at the two of you and thought it was even more amusing to see how Javi shot you desperate, puppy eyes at his joke.

"I don't have a girlfriend…" he said embarrassedly and you nodded, rolling your eyes at Steve "you're very funny, Steve, we missed that" you smirked and said goodbye to them.

After that night, you and Javi were on speaking terms again, though you didn't have much to talk about - or the things you did want to talk about weren't so appropriate.

Steve looked down at his desk and noticed your forgotten your notebook. You often carried with you taking notes and writing down important stuff.

He grabbed it and saw when something fell from inside of it. He frowned curiously and laughed as he saw it was a picture from Javier.

"Hey Jav… Y/N forgot her notebook here, you should go and hand it to her" he called his friend's attention and placed the notebook and the picture down.

Javier frowned and took it into his hands. He couldn't believe it. It was a picture of himself and his horse, from the last time he'd been home. It was taken at his dad's ranch and he had his characteristic sunglasses on and a big smile on his face.

Javi usually kept that picture in a portrait in his living room, he'd seen you staring at it before, always complimenting his smile and making him blush, in a dorky way he always felt embarrassed.

He had noticed the picture seemed to have disappeared a few months ago but didn't actually care a lot about it, he had so many other things to worry about other than that.

However, the mystery was solved and now he knew where it'd gone.

He checked the back of the polaroid and felt his cheeks heating up and felt so thankful Murphy hadn't paid attention to it, otherwise he would be teased for the rest of his miserable life.

He recognized your handwriting immediately and he didn't understand why you'd written that, but it brought a smile to his lips, feeling a warmth spread through his chest.

"Javi és el fuego que arde mi piel ♡ "

He shook his head and got up, taking the elevator and going straight to your floor. He felt a sudden need to see you, it wasn't enough, he wanted to hand you the picture, see your face when you realized he knew about your habit of stealing from his place.

He saw you focused on the piles of paper in front of you and took a second to admire how beautiful you were, he cursed himself under his breath for the hundredth time for being such a moron, if he had played his cards right, you could have been his by now and he would be the luckiest motherfucker in the world, but now he only had crumbles of your attention and it was already good enough because it was much more than what he deserve it.

"You forgot your notebook, cariño" he said with his usual smirk, leaning his body against your desk and watching you.

You looked up at him and couldn't help but allow yourself to smile, it was just so Javi and it reminded you of good times.

You took the notebook from his hand but he caught your fingers in his grip "rojo te sale muy bien, cariño" he said, looking at your red nails and winking at you.

You didn't have enough time to answer, when Manu patted Javier's shoulder, drawing his attention

"Agent Peña, I don't appreciate when you talk like that with my girlfriend, I'd like you to keep respectful" the younger man said politely and turned to you, pecking your lips gently, which caused Javi to look away.

You said goodbye to Manu, promising to meet him later, though the situation embarrassed you a little, you also felt pretty good about the scene Javier just witnessed. One peck on the lips would never hurt him as much as the image of him and a hooker that looked like you hurt your feelings, but if he looked bothered and that was a victory for you.

You could tell Javi gritted his teeth and licked his lips softly, raising an eyebrow at you

"So you guys are an item for real?"

You tilted your head and nodded

"Well, yeah… it's recent, but it is a nice relationship"

Javier shrugged in disdain and bit the inside of his cheek

"It's surprising, I figured you could do better than Manuel"

You scoffed and laughed at the nerve he got, nor believing he had the guts to talk about Manu like that.

"Yeah? And who would be better, you?"

Yes, me.

That was the first thing that crossed Javi's mind, squinting his eyes softly as a heat spread in his lower belly, he felt so annoyed at your sassy, bitchy reply, before things happened you had never been this bratty towards him, and at the same time he felt a hint of annoyance something else woke inside of him.

He felt like he wanted to teach you a lesson, punish you so you wouldn't be all sarcastic towards him, and more importantly, you wouldn't look for another cock than his. He would bend you over his lap, lift that slutty skirt up and give you one, two, three swats, watching as his handprint would be there, in a delicious shade of red, marking your beautiful cheeks as his, at the same time he would pull your panties to the side, spread your legs a little and he would shove his fingers into your soaked cunt, making you whimper as he finger fucked you and you had to rub your clit on his rough jeans to help you get your relief.

Instead, Javier just sighed and placed his polaroid on your desk.

"I'm still a DEA agent, I could have you arrested for theft, Y/N" he said before straightening up his body and walking away, leaving you mortified at the fact he'd found out you'd stolen that picture of him.

•••

"So, what's Peña's deal with you?" Manu asked as he filled your glass of wine and got comfortable on the couch. It wasn't the first time he had been to your apartment, but it was the first time he was going to spend it there with you and that made you a little nervous.

Steve's barbecue would be the next day so you figured it would make sense to have your boyfriend spend the night over, instead of making him drive back and forth.

You thanked him for the wine and took a long sip, finding the right words to tell Manu.

You didn't want to lie, but you also couldn't tell him the truth… how would he react to knowing you were crazy about Javier Peña? You were sure he wouldn't take things well, who wouldn't? Javier had such a reputation, it wouldn't work.

"Well, Javi-Javier and I were very good friends, we used to be close friends" you began "and I know how that sounds, but I never had sex with him or anything remotely close to it, I did develop some kind of a crush, but it faded with time" there it was, your first lie.

"We had some disagreements and we fell out with each other, then he kept his distance and I did the same as he was engaged in some peculiar relationship…" second lie.

But you couldn't screw things up with Manu, you couldn't tell him the whole reason why you fell out with Javier was because you kissed and he felt guilty about being a dick, and then he made things even worse by hiring your lookalike hooker, how could you just dump all that on him?

Luckily to you, Manu was a ray of sunshine, he was a truly nice guy and deep down you knew he was way better than you deserved it. He softened up and smiled, leaning in and kissing you.

One kiss led to a second, then a third and when you realized, Manu had you under him. His cock was buried deep inside of your cunt and though you were wet, something was missing.

You didn't know exactly what, you rubbed your clit at the same time he pounded into you but it wasn't the same you were expecting to feel.

It was weird, you couldn't exactly tell what was off, but something was indeed off and you didn't know what to do.

You closed your eyes and tried focusing on moving your hips against your boyfriend's but suddenly a flash of brown eyes appeared in your mind. You shook your head unconsciously, but your mind wouldn't just obey you, suddenly you were imagining a mustache scratching your skin, as familiar lips kissed you down.

Your imagination was so vivid you could practically feel Javier's fingers on your body, his touch, his arms holding you and that set a fire into you you didn't think you were holding in.

And then you moaned. Loud.

You finally began enjoying yourself, each thrust you pretended it was Javier fucking you, making you one of his whores and it wasn't right, it was disgusting and it sent you to a very messy orgasm.

Javi walked down the hall carrying some groceries bag he got after postponing it forever and now he finally had food to make himself dinner.

He got some drinks to take to Steve's barbecue the next day and also a bottle of your favorite wine, maybe he could knock on your door later and invite you over for a glass, now you guys were on speaking terms again and maybe you'd enjoy it, right?

He looked for his keys in his jacket pocket absentmindedly when he heard muffled sounds. He thought it was odd and looked around, but this time the sounds were louder, enough to be heard in the hallway.

He frowned as an anxiety crept up in his chest, as the possibility of a scenario formed in his head.

But it couldn't be true.

It wouldn't, would it?

He swallowed and walked to your door, he didn't feel proud of it but he needed to be sure.

He placed his ear against the door and gasped when he recognized what kind of noises were those.

You were moaning.

Javier didn't know how to describe what he felt, it was like his limbs went numb at the same time he felt his whole body heating up in an unpleasant way as his heart raced.

Jealousy, anger, bitterness, rage, it all took over him.

He couldn't believe you were letting that boy fuck you like a bitch.

He wanted to break into your apartment and take that piece of shit away from you. He wanted to pull you by the hair, bend you over on your cute coffee table and pound you from behind, he wanted to make you moan like that. He wanted your red nails scratching down his back, he wanted you calling his name as he brought you to the best orgasm you could have. He wanted his sheets soaked with your honey, he wanted to be drowning in your juices, he wanted his mouth on your nipples, on your clit, on your ass. He wanted his cum to drop down every part of your body, but he couldn't have it because you were someone else's.

He stepped away from your side of your hallway as if it burned him and went to his place, fumbling with the lock and just throwing the bags inside.

He immediately turned around and walked back to his car. There was no way he would stay home that night, not when he could hear you being fucked by another man across the hall.

_____

A/N: I may or may not be a little too horny for Javier 🤷‍♀️

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lokischocolatefountain · 2 years ago

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Whiskey and Wine

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Smut, angst, hurt/ no comfort. Warnings: Prostitute!reader, misogynistic terms to describe sex workers, mentions of domestic violence.)

Word count: 4k words

Summary: He drank whiskey and she drank wine. After years of offering her the wrong drink, Javier finally buys her the right one.

A/N: Venturing out to Javis who are no happily married and madly in love, so it’s angst central, baby! Let me know if you like this sad boi and go check out my other Javi (and Joel Miller) fics in my masterlist.

Wine was not Javier’s preferred choice of drink. He could count on his hand the number of times he’s had wine throughout his life. But when he was at the store, looking to replace his bottle of whiskey, the dark green wine bottle caught his eyes.

“Drink?”

“I’ve told you I don’t like whiskey,” she said, settling into his couch and tossing her handbag on his coffee table.

“I know,” he whispered, pulling out the bottle of wine he’d stashed in the bar. A smile found its place on his lips as he uncorked the bottle and poured it into a wine glass he bought especially for the occasion. The dark crimson, almost black filled the glass. When he’d filled his own glass, he put the bottle down on the counter.

“That looks familiar…” she said, turning the bottle around to see the label. Her eyes twinkled as she read the name of the brand she’d once told him she liked in passing. It was a long time back. Before Cali, before Los Pepes. When she’d only just become his informant. And it took him all this time to buy a bottle of wine for her. It wasn’t for a lack of wanting.

“You remembered,” she remarked, her eyes softening. They raised their glasses and let it clink together before taking a sip. Eyes closed, she nodded as though appreciating the taste. In his head, the nod was also for him, an approval, a good boy for choosing the right drink. It wasn’t his favorite. It tasted much too…fruity. But he took another sip. If it was good enough for her, it’s good enough for him.

“How have you been? How’s Miguel?” He asked about her kid who he could only remember as a two year old.

“He’s good. Getting alarmingly taller. I’m good, all things considered. It’s better now, in Medellin. I guess it’s Cali’s turn now. Is it bad there like Medellin used to be?” She asked. He took a seat next to her. Took her hand. It had been so long since he’d touched it. So long since it pulled at his hair as he buried his face between her legs.

“It’s a little more covert in Cali. The Godfathers run the cartel like a corporation. There’s this veneer of decency about them that Escobar didn’t have. But you peel back the layer and you’ll see all the same brutality.”

“Is it harder? I mean, I don’t care about Cali like I cared about Escobar. That could just be because I’m from Medellin and have no reason to be in Cali. But I don’t see anyone else giving a shit either. Must make it hard,” she said as she toyed with the loose tie around his neck.

“It does… ‘s like people think everything’s fucking perfect after Escobar died. It isn’t. You take down one monster and another one takes his place.”

She placed the glass of wine on his coffee table and put both her hands to use. She undid his tie and tugged it off his collar before rolling it up around her index finger. “Who is the next monster then? After Cali.”

Whoever the fucking CIA wants there.

“I don’t know…” he sighed before he reached out and unfurled his tie from around her finger. He tossed it back over his shoulder and took her hands in his, turning them back and front to admire them. He took her right hand and placed a kiss on each finger, looking up to catch her eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed and head tilted, she considered him like she was trying to figure him out.

“Why do this job if you think there’s no end?”

His shoulders slumped and he looked away, unable to meet her question. His hand stilled around hers. “I don’t know,” he answered again, his voice devoid of emotion. She’d always read him perfectly. Just one look at him was enough for her to know he’d had a bad day. After a lifetime of bad days, she still had a way to know exactly what worried him. One of them at least for he worried about multiple things at once.

“Let me take care of you, Javi…” she whispered, closing the gap between them. She was close enough that he could feel her breath and see the texture of her skin beneath her makeup. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, taking her lips between his. A sense of peace filled him as she melted into his arms. He moved her hair aside and cupped her cheek, gently holding her in place for him.

Burying himself in women and booze was second nature to him. Yet he hadn’t really indulged in the former since he came back to Colombia. Not after the first night with the woman from work.

Whiskey, women, work. The three Ws that kept his world running. Nibbling at her chin the way he remembered she liked, he was happy to have his trifecta back. And it mattered that it was this woman he’d found again. She was something of an addiction for him back in his Medellin days.

Sleeping with local prostitutes was no strange thing for the men at the embassy. Steve was one of the very few who didn’t indulge. And no, it wasn’t because he was married. Plenty of married men dipped their fingers into the money from their paycheque that they were meant to send back home to support their wives and kids. He just stumbled into the practice by using them as informants. While they all slept with prostitutes, he felt that he was different from the other men. He didn’t pump and dump them, didn’t fuck a different one each time. When he was sleeping with someone, he sought them out frequently and didn't sleep with others for the period. It didn’t make him a fucking saint. Of course not. It was just what he needed to do to collect intel. It was also to ensure safety. AIDS was no laughing matter.

He felt her expert hand pulling at his belt. He helped out, unbuttoning his pants for her. In a second, her hand was on his cock. He bucked into her hand, his body desperate for her touch after having gone so long without.

Javi loved women. Loved painted lips and long hair. Loved their elegant fingers wrapping around his cock and roaming his chest. He loved having them at the mercy of his tongue and making them scream his name until they could only make incoherent noises of pleasure. He loved all women, but he loved her much more than the others.

“Missed you so much, querida,” he breathed into her exposed neck. “So fucking much.”

He had given pieces of his heart to everyone in his life. Everyone he’d ever met who wasn’t an explicit enemy held a piece of him, held the power to crush it between their hands and ruin him. He broke off a huge chunk of himself for her. Or maybe it was gradual, he thought as he pulled her onto his lap.

He pushed her skirt up to her waist and adjusted her on him so that he could feel her wet heat on him. She grinds over him, eliciting a hiss. He grabs her by her hips, stalling her movements. “You keep that up and I’ll come before I’m inside you.”

She laughed and stopped struggling in his grip, allowing him a smidge of mercy. One look at the twinkle in her eyes and the upward curl of her lips was all he needed to realize that the process was gradual. Each time he invited her into his leather couch and then his bed, he gave her a piece of himself. Each time she asked if he was okay, each time she said just the right things to make him relax if only for the night, each time she did more than she needed to do for a paying client.

“Let me take you to bed,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist to pick her up. She pressed her hand on his chest in a silent request to stop. He raised an eyebrow at her and searched her features for clues.

“Want a quick one first.”

“First?” He asked, brushing his lips against hers. “Is that a promise for more?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed before giving him a quick peck, making him smile. “I missed you too, you know?”

“Yeah?”

His heart warmed when she nodded in confirmation. Moments like this had him believing that maybe, just maybe, she might feel a little something for him too. It was pathetic, really. To believe the things women in this profession told men to make them feel good about themselves. It was no different from shop assistants telling you that the shirt you tried on looked good on you. It was good business.

He sneaked a hand beneath her top, caressing the soft skin with his callused one. She lifted her arms, helping him pull the top up before tossing it aside. She leaned back, accommodating him as he grazed her nipples through her bra with his teeth. The cheap lace scratched his tongue, making him snap the hooks in the back, releasing her from the wire-lace prison. He took her tits in his large, greedy hands, relishing in how she pushed into his hands.

In turn, she undid the buttons of his shirt, spreading her fingers over his chest and running them all over him as he ground himself against her. She whimpered, pushing back against him before she reached between them and stroked his cock.

She reached into her purse that sat on his coffee table and came back with a condom. He let her put it on him, shuddering at her touch as she stroked him a few times. Lining him up with herself, she took all of him in just one go. A groan rumbled from the depths of his chest as her velvety heat molded itself around him. “Hard and fast, Javi. Want you to get your stress out.”

“You’re so good for me. So good, always…” he praised, lifting her up and down his cock. “I missed you,” he mumbled. He needed her to know, know that this wasn’t just some line. He wasn’t saying things in the heat of the moment. He really did miss her, buried himself in other women and gone home to fuck his fist because they didn’t satisfy him like she did.

They weren’t so receptive to my touch, he wanted to say. They didn’t hold me like they cared. Their smiles didn’t wipe away the worries of my day.

Her earrings jumped with their dance, the little bells that hung from the base tinkling as they joined the sweet melody of her soft sounds. The red of her lips had grown light from his greed, was smeared beyond their boundaries. As he pulled her to his chest, he smelled the faint fragrance of her rose scented perfume, the one she always wore. It wasn’t anything uncommon, he’d smelled it on several women after her and drove himself mad with yearning. But on her, it smelled just a little different. It mixed with her natural scent, her intoxicating pheromones that was just her, that he wished he could bottle up and keep at his bedside.

Their lips found each other again, tasting each other, drinking up the sounds of the pleasure they gave each other.

A thin sheen of sweat coated her neck, making her glisten under the golden light from the street lamps streaming through his window. Mesmerized by the bouncing of her tits, he fucked into her harder, faster, letting his eyes enjoy the treat. His lips, jealous of the taste his eyes got, wrapped itself around a nipple. His hand grabbed the breast as his teeth nipped at her. She trembled in his arms as he let out a groan into her flesh.

“Javi…”

“Yeah, baby. Say it again, say my name.”

“Javi…please, faster.”

Gripping her harder, letting his nails dig into her flesh, he obliged. He thrusted into her, faster like she requested. She threw her head back, granting him access to her neck. He kissed and licked and nipped, tasting her sweat and her skin. He kissed scars and birthmarks and the little black moles on her skin that he had memorized like the streets of Laredo. Take a right from the mole on the right collarbone and go straight up to find the heart shaped mark on her shoulder.

He reached between their bodies, groping around for her clit before he found it with her “Fuck, right there Javi!”

With as much tenderness in his touch as the hardness of his thrusts, he began to play her clit. She bucked into his touch and writhed on his lap. He lost himself in her, his overactive mind finally calming down. Miguel Rodriguez and his almost-capture before the efficient hand of bureaucracy meddled had left his mind. Stechner, the CIA, Ambassador Crosby— it all ceased to exist.

Tension gripped his thighs, his balls, every-fucking-where. He threaded his fingers through her hair and guided her eyes to his. The tug of her hair had her tightening around him. He pulled again, his chest rumbling with his groan as she reacted expectedly. He spoke her name in a plea, not really knowing what he begged for. She rewarded him with her little whimpers.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” she hummed appreciatively as she touched him. She spread her hands over the expanse of his chest, fingers healing scars old and new.

Her touch was addictive. When she dropped her hand from the force of his thrusts, he took them and placed them back on himself. He needed her touch. He needed to know she was wrapped around him in more than one way. Contrasting his harsh strokes, she brought a gentle hand to his face. Her thumb caressed his bottom lip. Before he could take the finger between his teeth, her hand wandered away. It caressed his cheek, the softness of the touch making him close his eyes.

“Fuck! ‘m close. Keep fuuu— mmm, so fucking good, baby. Just like that!” She screamed encouragements, keeping him maintaining the pace she liked so much. He couldn’t keep his eyes off hers as they glazed over. A sense of pride filled him to see her like this. After all his failures that week, he was doing something good. To bring her ecstasy, that was above anything he’d managed to fuck up. She tightened around him, pulling the world together around their bubble. The globe was now just them, just the noises she made for him.

With one final cry, she crumbled in his arms, falling limp, relying on him to hold her up. He pulled her to him and let her slump down on his chest. “Did so good,” he praised as he used her for his sake. She continued contracting around him, the remnants of her orgasm still vibrating around his cock. He gritted his teeth as he struggled to maintain his thrusts, the intervals between each thrusts growing and shrinking and growing again.

Words struggled to escape through his labored breaths, yet he chanted her name in between curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuu— I love you.”

She gasped and jolted in his grasp. His words took a second to sink into him as he blanked out from the feeling of her around him. As he spilled into the condom, his world stilled. It then came crashing down, from the high and from the realization of what he’d just said.

Downcast eyes focused on the stop where they were connected. His arms fell to his sides. He kept them there, not wanting to trap her in case she wanted to escape.

The words echoed in his ears— I love you I love you I love you. There was no escaping, not for him.

“I’m sorry.”

Javier still didn’t have the confidence to look at her. Not when she climbed off his lap. Not when she walked around his apartment, collecting articles of her clothing. Not when he heard her pour herself a glass of wine.

Pink painted fingernails wrapped around a glass of whiskey entered his range of vision. He accepted it. He needed a fucking drink and wine wouldn’t cut it. He mumbled a thanks before he took the glass to his lips, closing his eyes as the liquid burned in its way down his throat.

“Take it back.”

Of all the things he’d expected her to say, this wasn’t it.

“Please…”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t mean that.” Her voice trembled as she spoke. She tilted his head up by his chin with a finger, forcing him to look into her eyes. They were glazed with tears. She held them in, let them pool around her. “Take it back.”

He shook his head. “I meant it— mean it.”

She scoffed before turning away and walking up to his bar. Glass of wine abandoned, she poured herself a finger of whiskey. She brought her hands up to her face and though he couldn’t see it, he knew she was wiping her tears. “Do you know how many men have told me they love me, Javier?”

A weight settled in the pit of his stomach. A deep ache found itself in his chest. Rejection had never felt so heart wrenching.

“It happens. Too many men say it. They find their wives boring, are sick of their kids, are tired from the monotony of their jobs… Doesn’t mean it’s real. I need you to understand that.”

“I don’t have a wife or kids. My job is anything but monotonous.”

She shook her head before taking a swig of her drink. “Doesn’t have to be that specifically. It’s just— people say it all the time. More often than you think. When life is hard… A lot of men come to me when life is hard. It’s easy to say shit like that to someone you’re fucking.”

She was rationalizing her way out of it, giving him logical explanations as to why what he said wasn’t true.

“Your job is hard, you’re in your late thirties and you don’t have a solid relationship. So you’re just saying that to me. To fill some void. You could’ve said that to any whore.”

He flexed her fingers and glared at her back, hoping to burn a hole through her skin. He planted his face in his hands and closed his eyes, attempting to get his breaths to a normal pace.

“Is that what you think you are to me? Just some nameless, faceless woman?” He asked, voice trembling with the fear of a yes from her.

“It’s not that— Javier… I’ve been doing this job for a while. I’m just one of the many nameless, faceless women. It’s just part of the job. I don’t take it personally.”

“I love you,” he reiterated despite her strong rejection. He must be a masochist, inviting more pain after his first taste of it.

“Just what do you think will happen by saying that? This is real life, not Pretty Woman. You should keep those delusions to yourself. When you wake up tomorrow, you’ll realize you didn’t mean it.”

“I mean it. ”

“And what?” She snapped. “And we live happily ever after? You take me back to Texas and give the whore your dead mother’s ring? Kids, white picket fences, happily ever after?”

He opened and closed his mouth, unable to muster up the courage to ask himself the questions she asked him. He wasn’t thinking when he told her he loved her. Not the second time and most certainly not the first time. Were you supposed to have the answers to those questions when you told someone you loved them? Fuck if he knew. The last time he said it was to Lorraine and they were much too young to be thinking about marriage and kids.

“You’ll love me today and you’ll love some other girl tomorrow. Another pretty brunette you pick up from a brothel.”

“I don’t know what you think of me, but I don’t just go around saying that to fucking everyone.”

“You think you love me. Because you’re stressed and lonely and have nothing beyond your job. You thought you loved Helena.”

“Don’t,” he warned, his voice strained. His mind filled with images of Helena, her beautiful eyes marred by fear as she lay trembling on a ratty old mattress, her mind far away from her body. Hands shaking, he took a sip off his whiskey.

“That is what happens to women like us when we get close to men like you,” she continued despite his warning. He put his drink down and clutches his head in his hands. There were only three women he’d fallen for— Lorraine, Helena and now her. What an unfortunate series of choices. “You’re good, you’re kind and you treat me like a human being. Bare fucking minimum, but you’d be surprised how rare that is for women, prostitute or not. Maybe you really loved Helena. Maybe you were just feeling guilty about what they did to her. I don't know that. Whatever you wish to accomplish by telling me…telling me that—it’s not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, for what felt like the hundredth time that night. She came up to him, finally showing him her face as she filled his empty glass with amber liquid. He took her hand in his and rubbed circles on the back of it.

“The scar on my back. I didn’t tell you where I got it,” she said, her voice too calm to be discussing the large welt on her back.

“It’s from the first man who told me he loved me.”

His thumb froze. He tightened his grip on her. As though holding her tight would keep her away from the man she was speaking of.

“He was sweet, handsome. Paid well, treated me better than any of the other men I was sleeping with. Just like you.”

“I would never— I’m not like him. I couldn’t hurt you,” he said as he shook his head, defending himself against a man he didn’t know, but abhorred.

“I know…” she whispered, her eyes holding only kindness for him despite his confession. “I know. But I didn’t know it back then, the difference between men like you and men like him. I was nineteen, barely an adult and already in this profession. I believed him. It was hell. Almost three years of it before he went off and died somewhere.”

“Many men have told me they love me since. None of them I could believe. You, I can’t afford to believe. Because unlike the rest of them, you can break me. Because I feel all kinds of things for you. And I can’t live with knowing there was a chance, I can’t afford to break. Not again.”

He nodded, gave her a sad smile through his clouding vision and let go of her hand.

“Now tell me you didn’t mean it. Lie if you have to. Please,” she said, her voice breaking at the request.

“I didn’t mean it.”

Minutes passed before she spoke again. Or were they mere seconds? He didn’t know.

“Maybe it was my fault that I didn’t take money from you the last few times.”

Maybe. Maybe he wouldn’t have fallen in love if they’d kept it as a transaction and nothing more. If he’d forced some cash into her hands before leaving her place, he wouldn’t be here, what was left of his lonely heart breaking into even smaller pieces.

“Now pay me and drive me to my friend’s.”

They found themselves outside her friend’s place where she was staying during her trip to Bogota. The ride was silent, but no longer awkward or uncomfortable. Even after having his soul ripped out of his body, he was still standing. So was she. He glanced at her face, illuminated golden by the street lamps and took her in for what would most certainly be the last time.

“Your job has no end, you know that. There will always be new monsters to hunt but only one life for you to live. Go home. Find some nice Texan girl, take care of your Papa’s ranch, have the kids and the white picket fence,” she said, giving him one last smile before climbing out of his car.

“You too,” he said with all his heart. “Miguel, more kids and the white picket fence. With some nice Medellin boy. Oh and the restaurant you want to open. All the best.”

“All the best to you too, Javier.”

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