#ch: javier peña.

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 2) "session two"

gif by me

pairing: javier peña/joel miller rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 4.3k content: use of a plug, throat fucking, ass eating, lots of spit, gratuitous descriptions of cum, unprotected p in a, creampie, (safe) breathplay, background handjob, cock slapping, one (1) spank, joel's porn persona is a tad mean but it's nothing crazy, shy!joel, javi is a HUGE flirt, smoking, lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics betas: @qveerthe0ry & @scenaaario (ily angels ♥)

series summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

series masterlist | shoutout to this spanish dirty talk reference

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary ♥

“Fuck.”

Javier hadn’t had to prepare in a while. At least a few months. And the fact that he was doing this for Joel, of all men? He was harder than a fucking rock and he hadn’t even gotten the plug all the way in yet. Granted, he’d purposely chosen a smaller plug so he could still feel the stretch when Joel pushed that thick–

“Mierda,” he groaned, looking over his shoulder to see if he could get a better angle. The plug he chose was small, black, and a little thinner than he would normally go for. It’s been a while, so no matter what, there was a stretch but the lube certainly helped. When his hole finally sucked it in lewdly, he moaned, arching his back like a cat presenting himself to a mate. He grinned to himself and rested his head on his folded arms, ass in the open air of his apartment. 

He wished that his first major scene with Joel wasn’t a scene. He wanted to see if Joel was any different when the cameras weren’t on and he could just be himself. Every time he’s ever talked to Joel, he’d been quiet, with a heavy brow. Javier had been around the block once or twice and he could tell when someone didn’t like him. He’s not sure what he did to get on Joel’s bad side, but he hoped that tension added to the scene instead of making things awkward. And part of him liked the rift. It made Joel way more attractive to him, because Joel was probably the closest the site had to a bear, but not as big. Javier had always wanted to be fucked by one– 

Bzz. Bzz.

Cracking open an eye, Javier looked as his phone lit up next to him. He sighed and started rolling his hips side to side, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled up again.

R u ready ?

“Who still texts like this, Jesus Christ,” he grumbled to himself. A slow trickle of sweat fell down the length of his back as he started typing a response.

Be there shortly, boss.

Javier rolled his eyes to himself. Max was always on his ass about being on time, but it never bothered him. They couldn’t start the shoot without him anyway. His cock throbbed between his legs, making him curl his fingers around his shaft. 

One quick wank couldn’t hurt right? 

Joel was panicking, to put it mildly. He showed up to the shoot way too fucking early and now he was rocking a semi in the hallway outside the room they’d be using. They, meaning him and Javier, because of course he hadn’t fully processed that that was still happening. He couldn’t get the image of Javier’s mouth around his cock, that mustache framing it so perfectly. Or his hole being stretched by Joel’s cock, or even–

“Hey, big guy.”

The words sounded like they were coming from down the hall and directly in his ear simultaneously. He slowly looked up to find Javier smirking down at him. Joel swallowed around a lump in his throat and cleared his throat awkwardly. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Javier looked really fucking good – when didn’t he – with a healthy glow and slightly tousled hair. Had he freshly cleaned up his mustache this morning?

“Joel?” Javier chuckled, a soft smile coloring his features.

Joel cleared his throat again and stood awkwardly. “S-sorry, uh, hey,” he mumbled, looking down at his boots before keeping his eyes off of Javier’s, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where ya been?” 

It was meant to be casual conversation, he swears, but he’d lowered his voice and it came out all gruff and accusatory and now he wants to hide in the broom closet. He knows this because the easy, relaxed look on Javier’s changed to one of confusion.

“Uh, preparing. Sorry, I know I was a little later than usual,” Javier exhaled. Guess he was right; Joel wasn’t the biggest fan of his. That’s fine, he was a professional and he could get his job done and go home. “See you in there, hombre.”

Joel blinked a couple times, looking at the empty area of the hallway where Javier was just standing. “W-wait,” he grunted, looking toward the room. Javier was digging into the pocket of the robe he was wearing and lighting up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from the face of the assistant he was talking to.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Joel grumbled to himself and stepped inside.

Javier wasn’t opposed to an audience per se, but he wasn’t expecting one today either. “What are you cabrones doing here?” He smirked, looking at the faces of his coworkers. Not all of them were here, but Dieter, Shane, Dave, Marcus, Din, Steve, Cobb, and Jack were. Everyone was in various positions of comfort, some sitting and some standing or leaning. Except Dieter, who was sitting on Din’s lap comfortably, resting his head on the bulkier man’s shoulder. 

“Wanted to see the show, of course,” Dieter grinned, winking at him. Joel stepped onto the set and saw all the men. He gave Dieter a look, and Dieter responded with a softer smile as if to say, You got this.

Javier rolled his eyes and smiled. “Alright, whatever, you perverts.”

“Alright, people, let’s get this show on the road! We’ve got a longer one ahead of us and I’ve got a date tonight.”

Everyone froze and looked at Max like he grew a third eye. 

Max frowned. “It’s not that rare– Y’know what, fuck you guys. Joel, Javi, get into position,” he grumbled, sitting in his director’s seat.

Javier looked at Joel and snorted, untying his robe. He threw it to their audience like they were a bunch of fans, and laughed when Marcus caught it. Javier winked at him, making the slightly younger man’s cheeks flush.

Joel was doing his damndest not to bust a fucking nut right now because obviously Javier was naked. That was his fucking job. That was his fucking job, too.

“Joel,” Dieter whispered. Joel looked at him, a slightly panicked look on his face. Dieter motioned for Joel to come over to him, so the older man did. “What’s goin’ on, huh?” Dieter asked quietly. Joel looked at Din wearily, who just smiled politely. “Oh, he’s not gonna say anything,” Dieter smiled, leaning over to give Din a quick kiss.

“‘M just,” Joel sighed. “Think he thinks I don’ like him.”

“Why would he think that?” Dieter pouted. When Joel didn’t answer right away, Dieter furrowed his brows at him. “Did you do that grumbly thing you always do?”

Joel mumbled under his breath and looked down at his boots.

“Miller! Get in frame,” Max barked.

Joel sighed and ruffled Dieter’s hair a little. “Showtime.”

Javier felt like his throat was on fire, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he was having a hard time breathing. Joel’s cock felt so thick and hard inside his mouth and he was more turned on than he’d been in a long fucking time. 

“Yeah, shut ya up real good, huh?”

Javier moaned weakly, big brown eyes glassy as they looked up at Joel’s hard face. He choked every time the head of Joel’s cock hit the back of his throat but he couldn’t give a damn. This was probably the messiest head he’d ever given someone, slobber pouring out the sides of his mouth and down Joel’s shaft. 

Joel’s lines had instructed him to tell Javier to keep his hands to himself, so of course he obeyed. He dug the blunt nails of his fingers into his bare thighs so hard he was afraid that he’d break skin.

“Ain’t such a brat now that y’got a cock in your mouth, huh?” Joel sneered, tugging on Javier’s thick locks. Joel’s eyes were glued to Javier’s plump, swollen lips wrapped so tightly around his cock, that perfectly trimmed mustache framing them so beautifully. A full body shiver zipped down his spine when he saw the glossed over look in Javier’s eyes and tear tracks staining his cheeks. He shut his eyes in bliss and exhaled heavily as his hips moved of their own accord, his heavy balls slapping Javier’s chin lewdly.

Javier let out a low noise, his brows furrowing slightly. Joel looked down, worried he’d pushed too far, but saw that Javier was looking up at him with this fucking look in his eye. Even if Joel was technically in charge, at least in the script, he knew Javier had him hook, line, and sinker right now. And he thinks Javier knows that, too. 

Joel’s hips bucked at the twinkle in Javier’s eye, making Javier choke loudly. Slowly, Joel removed his cock from Javier’s swollen mouth. Loud, wet coughs left Javier’s lips, but he looked at Joel with a smirk on his face.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me, old man,” Javier rasped, sweat dripping down his neck.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’ya?” Joel grumbled. His cock throbbed heavily between thick, muscled thighs and Javier couldn’t take his eyes off it. The twitching made his own cock weep at the sight. “S’what I thought,” Joel hummed, harshly gripping Javier’s hair again. He curled thick fingers around the base of his cock and lewdly slapped the head against Javier’s tear-stricken face. 

Javier’s entire body shivered at the demeaning act and he bit his lip, looking at the hard lines in Joel’s face, and at the gray streaks in Joel’s hair. He was easily one of the most menacingly beautiful men he’d ever seen. He kissed and licked and sucked down the shaft of Joel’s cock until he sucked one of his heavy balls into his mouth. He moaned happily around the sensitive skin and looked back up at Joel through his lashes.

“Fuck me,” Joel groaned, breaking character slightly. He couldn’t fucking help it. Not when Javier was looking at him like that.

Javier made an approving sound and lewdly popped the ball out of his mouth, kissing up Joel’s soft, hairy stomach. “That’s my line,” he improvised with a grin, and sucked a dark mark into Joel’s hip.

Joel almost smiled, but at the last moment, remembered they were in fact not alone and had a script to follow. He quickly hardened his eyes and gripped Javier’s arms and manhandled him until Javier was laying over the arm of the couch, cock trapped between his body and the scratchy fabric.

“That what y’want, huh?” Joel grunted, gripping Javier’s ass in a bear paw. “Want me t’fuck this little ass until ya can’t walk no more?”

Javier moaned and arched his back, pushing his ass further into Joel’s hand and tried to grind against his cock. He nodded as much as he could with Joel pulling on his hair like he was, throat bared and panting hard. Joel pressed on Javier’s sweaty back to keep him down, before using both hands to slowly spread his cheeks. He groaned at the puckered little hole, carefully covered in lube from his earlier preparation. Pressing there with the pad of his thumb, he smirked when Javier moaned weakly below him.

“P-please, Joel,” Javier breathed heavily. Javi didn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. He’d been built up too much and poked and prodded enough that he just needed something inside him already. “Please.”

“Hmm,” Joel hummed, pretending like he was thinking about it. He removed his hands from Javier to finally remove the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing. He could’ve sworn he heard someone from their little audience groan as his naked body was revealed, but he chose to ignore it, far too focused on the sight in front of him. “Don’t think so, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly, his tone fake-sweet, and collected saliva in the back of his throat. He got down to his knees, thankful that the pillow there would be out of frame in the finished product. He spit directly onto Javi’s hole and gripped the small, plump cheeks in both hands. 

Javier gasped weakly, legs trembling under Joel’s ministrations. Joel was going to fucking kill him.

“Not yet, at least,” Joel mumbled, biting one of Javier’s cheeks before licking a thick stripe up from Javier’s taint to the top of his hole. A breathless huff left Javier’s lungs and his eyes rolled back at the feeling. “Y’mouth makes such pretty noises when ya ain’t runnin’ it,” was all the warning Javier had before Joel’s tongue pierced his hole and started fucking him in earnest.

Joel’s tongue was thick and wet and messy and he sucked loudly and slurped at a volume that should’ve been uncomfortable, but all Javier could do was moan and whimper, completely at Joel’s mercy. His eyebrows were downturned and his lips were parted in an obscene O, arms shaking as he held himself up on the couch. “Mm, fuck, J-Joel, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m–!” He was babbling and trembling and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He barely heard anything over the roaring in his ears.

“No, you’re not,” Joel grumbled between the lewd feast he was enjoying, landing a harsh smack! against one of Javier’s cheeks. “Don’t come until I say ya do.”

Javier groaned and bit his lip, his trapped cock weeping and throbbing between his legs. “Mierda,” he panted, hanging his head low between his shoulders. He tried grinding against the scratchy fabric of the couch for some kind of friction, but to no avail.

Joel grunted into Javier’s ass, convinced that he could stay here for hours if he was allowed. When he pulled his face away, his eyes latched onto the fluttering little hole in front of him and hummed in satisfaction. As he stood, his knees whined and creaked in protest and hopefully, if Max were nice to him for once, he’d edit the sounds out. 

Broad hands traveled up Javier’s heated skin, taking him all in as he panted heavily underneath the older man. He knew today would be good but nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Maybe he should keep his distance from Joel more often, if this was the end result.

Joel was ecstatic on the inside, the memories of their first scene together coming back to him. He’d almost forgotten just how pliant and cat-like Javier could get if pushed enough. The sounds he made were like music to Joel’s ears, and he wished he could keep them in a bottle reserved just for himself. 

He gripped Javier’s sides and manhandled him again until Javier was on his knees on one of the cushions and facing the back of the couch, hands planted on the back. Joel spread Javier’s cheeks again and hummed at the way the younger man clenched on instinct. He left Javier in that position for a second while he went over to an assistant off camera and grabbed some lube, making quick work of getting his cock thoroughly coated. He held Javier’s side, right where his ribs were, with one hand and gripped his cock with the other, grinding his shaft between Javier’s cheeks. 

Javier cried out loud, electricity shooting through his body and settling as heat at the base of his spine. 

Joel grinned, tapping the head of his cock against Javier’s hole before slowly, agonizingly so, pushed the thick head inside him. The air left Javier’s lungs as he froze, the pressure and the weight of being so thoroughly stretched overwhelming him. He grunted as Joel’s hips sat flush against his ass, breathing heavily as his arms trembled against the back of the couch. Joel stroked Javier’s flanks, letting him adjust for only a moment before he pulled out until just the head was left inside and slammed back inside.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck...” Javier moaned, his back arching.

“Aww, you’re alright,” Joel smirked. He hovered over Javier’s body, nearly covering him entirely with how much bulk there was. He curled an arm over Javier’s right shoulder and gripped onto the younger man’s left pec to press Javier’s back into his chest. He kissed along Javier’s shoulder and up his neck until he nibbled on Javi’s earlobe, moaning lowly as the younger man clenched around his shaft. “Y’gonna be good? Gonna let me fuck ya?”

“Sí, coño– Please, Joel,” Javier whined, resting his head on Joel’s shoulder and panting into the open air. “Por favor damelo.”

So Joel did. Before either of them knew it, Joel was fucking into Javier in earnest, his hips slapping against Javier’s ass obscenely. Javier was making the neediest little sounds, chanting Joel’s name like a prayer. Javier’s cock was hard as a rock and lewdly slapping against his skin with every one of Joel’s harsh thrusts.

Joel hid his face in Javier’s neck, panting hotly against the younger man’s already damp skin. With his right arm already wrapped around Javier’s torso, he gripped at Javier’s hip with his left hand, fingers digging into the (surprisingly) soft skin. Javier didn’t have a whole lot of fat on his body, but there was enough to ripple every time Joel jackhammered into him.

“F-fuck,” he gulped, lips parted and eyes half lidded. The pressure was building low in his abdomen. He knew he was close. “J-Joel, I’m–” His mouth was as dry as the desert. “I’m gonna come, I–”

Joel growled. Literally. He bit Javier’s cheek and growled. “Not yet. Jus’ a li’l longer,” he panted. He moved his hand from Javier’s pec to his throat, and carefully, expertly, squeezed the sides. They’d talked about doing this with Max and both had consented to it. They knew how to do it right.

Slowly, as Javier’s air supply was marginally cut off, a wide smile grew on his face. His eyes shut and he was smiling, biting his lip. He felt so fucking good. He wanted to do this again and this time wasn’t even over yet.

Joel must have noticed because he chuckled next to Javier’s ear, hips never letting up once. “Yeah? Feel good, sweetheart?”

Javier nodded as much as he could, nails digging into the shitty couch and pulling hard.

“Good boy,” Joel rumbled, slowing down his hips, but not letting up on how hard he was thrusting. Javier’s breath hitched with every one of Joel’s slow, measured thrusts. Joel’s hand slid from Javier’s hip down to curl around the younger man’s cock. It was like someone had poured ice cold water over Javier’s head, because the pressure was just what he’d needed.

“S-sí, sí, please, p-please,” Javier gasped, a tear falling from his eye.

“Fuck, look at ya,” Joel marveled, slowly stroking Javier’s cock teasingly. “Pretty as a god damn picture, sweetheart.”

Javier opened his eyes as wide as he could and tried looking at Joel for the first time since he was on his knees. When their eyes locked, Javier could have sworn that there was a different man behind Joel’s baby browns. Perhaps that was the real Joel, and not whoever was on camera. Not whoever had been avoiding him for the better part of two years. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Want ya t’come for me,” Joel breathed hotly against his face. Javier shivered all over and nodded as much as he could with Joel’s bear paw of a hand around his throat. “Can ya do that, sweetheart? Come for me.”

Javier grunted as Joel picked up the pace of his hips again, but this time with his other hand tightly gripped around his shaft. Joel teased the head with his thumb just as he slammed directly into Javier’s prostate over and over.

Javier cried weakly, one more tear falling from his eye, and came hard. Thick, creamy spurts of cum painted the set’s couch as Javier trembled with his release.

Joel held him close, their sweaty bodies sticking together as Joel thrust one, two, three more times and followed Javier over the edge. He came with a low roar buried into Javier’s neck and cock twitching violently in Javier’s ass.

The set was dead silent save for Joel and Javier’s heavy breathing. Max kept the camera rolling, stunned into silence for once. 

Javier smiled to himself, eyes shut in bliss, and head resting on Joel’s shoulder. He clenched around Joel’s sensitive cock in little pulses. “Fuck me,” he croaked, voice wrecked.

Joel grunted at the overstimulation and gently held Javier’s hips as he slowly pulled out. Javier leaned forward against the back of the couch and pushed his ass out so the camera (and their audience) could see the thick cum trailing down his thighs. Joel’s hands rubbed Javier’s skin appreciatively at the sight, his cock giving one last valiant twitch.

“C-cut,” Max’s voice cracked, making him clear his throat. “Cut.”

In the corner, Dieter trembled and moaned weakly into Din’s neck as he came, Din’s thick fingers curled around his cock. 

Javier turned his head back to look at Joel with a satisfied smile on his face. “Mind gettin’ me a towel, guapo?”

Joel’s cheeks flushed, completely out of character again. “‘Course,” he mumbled, slowly standing to ask one of the assistants for a towel.

“Jesus Christ, boys,” Max chuckled.

Javier hummed in agreement.

“That was… That was somethin’ else, Jav,'' Steve said, impressed.

They were both outside, having their usual post-shoot cigarette together. No matter if they’d done a scene together or separately, they always kept up the tradition. This time, though, Javier thought he’d need several cigarettes. And a bath.

“Thank you,” Javier grinned, feeling lighter and more satisfied than he had in weeks. He could swear that the crick in his neck he’d woken up with was completely gone. Maybe there was some truth to Silva’s back pain disappearing after certain sessions.

“S’pose ya don’t gotta tell me, since I saw it myself, but was it like you thought it’d be?” Steve chuckled.

Javier snorted in response, taking a long drag off his cigarette. “And then some.”

Din smiled gently down at Dieter, giving him a slow, soft kiss. “I’ll see you tonight?” 

Dieter smiled wide and nodded giddily, getting on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Din’s neck one more time to give him another kiss. Joel could swear he saw hearts in his eyes. 

Once Dieter came back over to Joel, he had a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry, just had to say goodbye.”

Joel smiled softly. “Don’ worry yourself over it. Y’all are cute together.”

“You think?” Dieter beamed. “We had a scene the other day and we just haven’t stopped texting, and– Oh my god, this isn’t about me right now, I’m sorry.”

Joel chuckled and followed Dieter into the hallway so the cleaning crew could get to work. Dieter scratched at his beard as he looked at Joel: he seemed lighter, with a healthy glow radiating off of him.

“Well?”

Joel cleared his throat and dug his hands into his pockets, shrugging a little. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, old man! That was fucking hot! I came so hard!”

Joel laughed, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Thank you.”

“So? You gonna ask him out? Or at least apologize for earlier?”

“Yeah, I will. And uh… Yeah, I plan to,” Joel sighed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t exactly know how I’m gonna do that, though…”

“Well, you better think of something quick!” Dieter whispered, pointing towards the end of the hall as Javier rounded the corner with Steve.

“Shit,” Joel whispered to himself. Dieter gave him a wink and thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction. 

Javier had his regular clothes on again, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off him, enamored with how well they fit him. He may have just been inside the man, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“Hey, Joel,” Javier smiled awkwardly. He still wasn’t sure where they stood outside of working together, so he tried to keep it as casual as possible.

“H-hey, Javier,” Joel said hoarsely. He cleared his throat again.

“Y’know, you’re the only one that doesn’t call me Javi,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Joel furrowed his brow. “‘M sorry. My mama always taught me an’ my baby brother it was more polite that way.”

“You have a baby brother?” Javier smiled.

“Uh…” Joel gulped. “Y-yeah. Tommy.”

Javier hummed in response, an amused look crossing his features. He’s slowly figuring Joel out, he thinks. “He just as handsome as you? Bet he is,” he flirted.

The tips of Joel’s ears went pink and he laughed around an awkward cough. “Nah. Don’ cut his hair enough to be respectable.”

“Mm, more to pull then,” Javier smirked.

Joel made a face, not wanting to think of his brother like that. “L-listen, uh. ’m sorry ‘bout earlier. Wasn’t right talkin’ to ya like that,” he mumbled, unable to look Javier in the eye just yet.

Every bit of tension Javier felt left his body in an instant. “Thank you. I appreciate that, Joel.”

Joel nodded, a shy smile on his face. “‘S good,” he said awkwardly.

They were quiet for a few moments before Javier pulled out his pack of cigarettes, sticking one between his lips. “Well, you built up quite the appetite in me, so I’m gonna go–”

“Do you wanna go out sometime?” Joel blurted out. “N-now, maybe?”

Javier blinked a few times as a smile grew on his lips. “You’re asking me out? Gotta be honest, I thought you hated me, Joel.”

Joel snapped his eyes up at that, confusion all over his face. “What? No! I–” He sighed. “‘M no good at this,” he grumbled to himself. “’m sorry. Again.”

Javier chuckled and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “‘s alright. I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiled, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. 

“Yeah, guapo. You already got dessert, but dinner sounds great.”

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 1

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not)* Nudity, body positivity, talk of oral sex, discussion of/evidence of abuse from a sexual partner, physical abuse of sex workers, groping, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex. Summary: Two Americans are both regular customers of the local brothels in Bogotá, which is a tie that will bring their fates together in ways they could never expect. Notes: For this series, please note that reader is American and speaks fluent Spanish! There is no indication of how she knows the language, whether or not it relates to her background, or anything specific like that. In order to make the story flow as best as humanly possible, it is written entirely in English (the writers' first language) but most of the time the characters are speaking in Spanish with each other. That is simply the nature of the beast with this exciting story to come, and we hope you enjoy!

Bogotá, Colombia 1987

Prostitution is the oldest profession in the world. Removed from the skills that took the cavemen beyond the hunter/gatherer roles that had prevailed during the ends of the last Ice Age and had allowed less nomadic lifestyles. Farming and growing crops had become possible and their limited technology had slowly advanced from rocks and sticks to weapons and electricity. Still, selling sex was the same. Except instead of food or hides in exchange for a warm cunt, it was cash and sometimes information.

Who knows if things are any more or less complicated now than they used to be. Or if things haven't basically stayed the same on an emotional level as the whole world has changed around its oldest profession. Whether the women and men who make their hard-earned living providing pleasure, solace, and distraction even waste their time thinking about how things used to be. It isn't what you talk about with them, anyway. Coming to Medellín's brothels isn't something you do for philosophy or soul searching. You, like so many other customers, are here because you need something. And, like so many others, it seems like the thing you came for is not what the workers here know you actually need. Coming to these women for information had turned into some very real friendships over the course of the few months you have been in Colombia, though that was never your intention for coming to see Freckles and Vanessa in the beginning.

Vanessa stands in front of the mirror, her back to you, long black hair cascading down her back to her bare ass. Plumping her lips, she reapplies the dark pink lipstick that compliments her tawny skin. Dark eyes flickering over to you as you lay in the bed, just as naked. She smirks slightly and goes back to her task. “You never try out any of the men here.” She observes. “Why?”

"Women are better at eating pussy," you reply through a haze of smoke, enjoying the ritual of a post-orgasm cigarette. It's a pithy reply, but telling her the truth feels too vulnerable. Or maybe it's too vulnerable and too dirty. It's probably both.

She snorts. “Then you haven’t met the right kind of men.” She turns around, her nudity something that she’s completely unashamed of, especially with someone that she had just fucked. “One of my favorite pussy eaters will be here later.”

"I hope I'm on that list, too." The grin you flash her is playful, not serious in the least, although you do hope she doesn't dread seeing you come through the door as a customer. Just because you like to chat afterward and have occasionally spent time together outside of these walls doesn't mean you're at the top of her client list.

“Favorite male pussy eater.” She clarifies, walking over to you and leaning down to press her newly colored lips to yours and steal a puff of your cigarette. “Surprisingly attentive. But you are my favorite customer overall.”

"You flatter me." Careful not to smudge her lipstick, you shift slightly on the bed to offer her a place to lounge if she wants to. Vanessa is one of the only people you don't mind laying around entirely naked with – she's been upfront with you about her love of plump women and made you feel very beautiful along with it.

She lays down and passes the filtered Marlboro back to you. It’s nice to have the American cigarettes when you are here. She sighs softly. “La Quica was here a few days ago.” She tells you quietly, her fingers finding the meat of your thigh and she caresses it gently.

"In a mood, or feeling cocky?" You ask, running the fingers of your free hand through her hair. She likes the soothing motion and it helps you think. Whenever La Quica comes by he either crows like a cartoon bird or he broods and ends up scaring the shit out of some of the girls.

“Freckles is…recovering.” She admits, her jaw tense and teeth clenched together. “Which is going to put Javier in a mood when he finds out.”

"Javier's your other pussy eater?" The gentle question comes with filing away the information that you should go and check on Freckles before you leave today.

She hums in agreement and sighs, flipping onto her side and watching her fingers as they move over your skin. “He’s another American. DEA.”

The way you have to put decided effort into not tensing or physically reacting to this information in any way leaves your blood feeling like ice. While you might not spend the majority of your day-to-day at the American Embassy, you surely spend enough time there gathering quotes and following leads to know who Javier the American DEA agent is. Swallowing down the information and filing it away for later, you stub out the butt of your cigarette and bend your leg to give Vanessa something to lean against. "Oh yeah? Another American?" You force some amusement into your voice and smirk at her teasingly. "I think you might have a type, Nessa."

“You pay more.” She teases back, smirking as she slides her hand up to cup your cunt. “Of course I like Americans.”

"Clever," you tease, rolling your eyes at her like she's told a joke instead of making an incredibly practical decision.

Laughing, her hand drifts up to your breast. “Don’t be offended.” She huffs. “I like you a lot more than most of the people who pay for my time.”

"I'm not offended," you tell her honestly. "It's good decision making if nothing else." The threat of an incoming casual acquaintance does make you think twice about hanging around though, and you glance at your watch on the nightstand before leaning over to kiss her again. "You're more than just my favorite fuck, Nessa," you assure her with a wink. "You're also my friend, and I'm not going to begrudge you the chance to make as much money as you can off whoever walks through that door."

She can tell you are ready to get dressed. There’s an impatience to most Americans when they are restless. An undercurrent to their tone, even in Spanish. You and Javier are very much alike in that way, which is ironic.

Sitting up, you pause for a moment before leaning back again to look her in the eyes. “Is Freckles okay? Really?” La Quica can be…well, violent is being generous. And the sicarios tend to view working girls as punching bags as much as anything else.

“She will be.” Vanessa promises, sitting up and climbing off the bed again. “Helena is looking after her. The girls are all pitching in to pay for anything she needs.”

That makes you frown, and you reach for your purse. Pulling out double the money you would usually pay and handing it to Vanessa, you shake your head when she sighs softly in reticence. "Take it," you insist, still holding out the bills. "The least I can do is contribute to the funds."

“You don’t need to do that.” She reluctantly takes it after you refuse to take half of it back. “I’ll give it to Freckles.” She promises.

“If I knew a doctor or a nurse I could trust, I’d bring them in and foot the bill myself.” Not having that resource when they clearly need it needles at you, but there is quite nothing you can do about it in this moment. “If she ends up needing more, or needing a doctor, will you promise to tell me?” Even if Vanessa promises there is only a fifty or so percent chance she’ll actually do it, but your concern stands.

“I will.” Vanessa sighs as she puts the cash away in a drawer. It’s dangerous to leave money out when another client could come in. Especially American dollars. “We took her to the clinic the nuns run. They need nurses but it was better than no one.”

“Good.” You’re swift to dress — a basic personal uniform of panties, bra, jeans, and a blouse never needing much fuss. It does get you a few odd looks when you go around the embassy in denim but to most of the employees there you’re that journalist already anyway. “Is it okay if I come around again in a few days to check on my favorite girls?” If La Quica got physical there was a reason for his anger. Some of the other girls might be next, and if that happens you want to know.

“You never need to ask if you can come by.” Vanessa turns and sends you a sultry smirk and a wink. Even though the sex is nothing more than a business transaction, she enjoys spending time with you. Plus there were interesting conversations with the girls about the two Americans that visit this brothel.

"I don't want you guys to start dreading my appearance." It's easy to brush it off with a wink and a smile. You both do it. Freckles does it. Helena does it. You've met a million men in your life who do it. A wink and a smile lets everything slide off your back – until the middle of the night when every awful though comes back to haunt you. But for now you grab your purse and lean over to give Vanessa one more kiss before she lights another cigarette. "See you later, Nessa."

“Later, love.” Her relationship with you is complicated and easy. You fuck, you talk, you go about your day. The fact that she knows more about you than you know about yourself is a non-issue right now. “You should go on a date.” She calls out with a laugh. “You’re too pretty to pay all the time.”

"Easier said than done, gorgeous!" You call back, and wave once before turning down the hallway that leads to the front door.

Taking a drag off her cigarette, she smiles as she blows out the smoke at the ceiling. If you only knew how alike you were to your soulmate, you would hate it.

******

The sun has set while you've been inside. Going to see Vanessa was a spur of the moment decision after a lead on a story didn't pan out and you had decided that fucking away your frustration was the way to go. Now, as you slip out the front door of the brothel and out of the gate to where you parked your junker of a car up the street, Bogotá is starting to take on its second life. There will be plenty of noise and people dancing the night away at the restaurant two floors under your apartment, and the white noise of an active city will lull you to sleep tonight just like it has for your whole life.

Javier Peña steps out of his Jeep, pulling at his belt slightly from where the jeans don’t sit quite right and shakes his hand as he walks towards the brothel. Feeling jittery and slightly needy as he steps in the familiar path. Helena couldn’t come to him for some reason, busy with her kid or something, so he had decided to take her up on her suggestion to visit Vanessa. She is a good time as well and normally had information to sell. The woman walking towards him looks familiar, but he can’t place where he’s seen her, striding by confidently with her purse firmly in hand. She doesn’t even spare him a glance but he can’t help but twist his head around and watch the curvy ass bounce past him tauntingly, making his cock twitch in his jeans as he imagines what it would be like to push inside her. Fuck. He needs to get laid.

"Hey, Javi." One of the newer girls is milling around in the front room when he comes in, but new or otherwise, all the girls have heard about the American DEA agent with deep pockets and a taste for their company. They're also always told that he has favorites, but every one of the new girls thinks they could be his new favorite if they just try.

“Hey…” he scrounges for her name. “Rita.” He sends her an easy smile and looks around to see if he can spot Vanessa. Rita is pretty, but he’s certain that Helena pointed him towards Vanessa for a reason. “‘Nessa with a client or she available?” He asks, looking back at the other girl with an assessing look. She’s a little young for him, but she’s pretty.

Rita's smile droops instantly, and she huffs as she turns to move behind the bar that they keep stocked in the front room. "Her last customer just left," she tells Javi, and points toward Vanessa's room.

“Thanks.” He nods at her, aware that she’s pouty that he’s not letting her take him to her room, but he doesn’t dwell on it as he walks down the hall towards the brightly painted door. This brothel is nicer than some, almost elegant. Shuffling slightly, he wishes he had a cigarette as he knocks.

"Come in!" Vanessa hasn't bothered to get dressed since you left, just thrown on a thin robe and tidied up the bed to sprawl out on it for a while until Javi comes by.

Javi quickly opens the door, eyes immediately drinking in the casual pose and skimpy clothing and hums in approval. “Vanessa.”

"Javier." She purrs his name happily, shifting on the bed to turn subtly in his direction but also so she can watch his eyes drag down to her cunt as she spreads her legs. He looks hungry today. "Come all the way in, handsome."

The door is kicked closed behind him and he’s not wearing a jacket, so it’s one less thing to shuck as he starts to undress. Obviously Vanessa knows why he’s here, but her cunt is slick with arousal and he wonders if she was playing with herself before he showed up.

Hungry. She was right. Vanessa pushes up onto her knees on the mattress and tangles her fingers in Javi's shirt. It pulls him closer but also helps him undress faster, which is something he clearly needs tonight. "Did you miss me that much, baby?" She hums, running her other palm along his chest as soon as his skin is bared.

He almost rolls his eyes at the endearment, but he doesn’t. He knows some men like their egos stroked, but he would rather she pay attention to his cock. Leaning forward, he answers her with a kiss, hot and urgent as his hands peel the robe off her lithe body. Suddenly thinking about the rounded curves on the woman he had passed coming in.

Alright. No need for verbal foreplay this time. Vanessa checks that effort off the list and haul Javi into her bed. He'll fuck first and talk later if he even needs to talk at all, so she pushes him down on his back and works open his jeans to have his cock in her hands as fast as he needs it.

The girls here always give him what he needs and he breaks away from her lips to start kissing down her chest to take a nipple into his mouth. He loves sex, losing himself in it and finding that it blocks out the doubt, the worry. The guilt. It’s forgotten as he chases that bliss that settles into his bones after an orgasm.

His jeans go, tossed on the floor without a second thought just like his shirt, and Vanessa doesn’t care about it either. Javi never wears underwear so it’s always directly to the point — his cock in her mouth and down her throat, fingers wrapped around the base until he grunts and twitches on her tongue. That’s when he pulls her off and gets her on her hands and knees instead, fucking the life and sense out of her as he tries to block out whatever demons follow so closely at his heels that he has been running from them every day for years without gaining any ground. In other moods, he’ll take his time or have her different ways. But when he’s hungry like this it’s always animalistic and needy. With Javi, she and Freckles and Helena don’t have to fake their noises. Or their orgasms. But they do have to fake nonchalance about his life. They know far more than he realizes.

His fingers slide between the folds of her sex and he groans. “So wet.” He quickly coats them in the slick and pushes two thick fingers deep inside her, loving way her breath catches in her throat. “I know it’s not for me.” He hums, flicking his tongue over her nipple. “But I’m going to use it.”

“She always gets wet for you, Javi.” Vanessa promises him, and that isn’t bluster. Some of their clients require more than a fair share of lube just to make things palatable. Javi? Not at all. He might be paying but he’s still giving pleasure while he takes it.

He snorts, smirking slightly at the curve of her breast as he pumps his fingers in and out of her. “Have you cum today?” He wants to know so he can make sure that if she’s hadn’t, he would make her cum more than once.

“T—twice.” His long fingers reach deeper inside her than yours had and Vanessa’s head tips back on a moan so he can hear her loud and clear.

“Hmmmm.” Javier isn’t jealous, he has no reason or right to be. She isn’t his. “Good, sweetheart. Then you can cum for me and then I won’t feel bad about putting your legs up on my shoulders and making you soak your bed.”

She doesn’t doubt that he could do it. He’s made Freckles cum so hard her vision whited out, and Helena had told them the story of a time she had gone to his place for a marathon session when he was particularly frustrated about something to do with work. She doesn’t doubt him, but she’s also not asking for any miracles. “Whatever you want to do,” she reminds him, voice strained just a touch from the angle her head is tipped back at.

He knows that’s how the game is played, but he doesn’t particularly like when his partners don’t enjoy themselves. “Good girl.” He murmurs, taking advantage of her head being pressed back into the pillow as he works her cunt on his fingers. His kisses have a little bit of teeth to them. Not enough to mark, but scrapes to hear her moan when he drags his teeth over her pulse. “Your cunt feels so good around my fingers, beautiful.”

“It’ll feel even better around your cock,” she reminds him, sighing happily with the next thrust of his hand and wrapping her own back around his hard on.

“I know it will.” He growls, working her on his fingers as he feels the need start to build in his body. Waiting will make it even more relaxing when he finally cums. Pouring out his frustrations and fears into the willing body of this beautiful woman and quieting the doubts that rattle around in his head.

Javier Peña fucks, and paid or otherwise, everyone who had ever gone to bed with him know this. The only emotions he is consciously pouring out areas the frustrations of the day and a desperate need to feel, so the woman in his arms is always going to feel him just as deeply as he feels his frustrations. Vanessa’s hips jerk against his palm, writhing with the tempo of his ministrations, until she gladly throws her head back to keen his name for at least the first time tonight.

He loves women. Their smell, their sounds, the way they tremble under a touch that is making them quiver in pleasure. “Cum for me.” He still thinks about that other woman, the thicker woman from the street. Wondering if she had been here. He pushes that thought away when Vanessa clenches down around his fingers again. “That’s it.”

"Fuck, Javi." She'll give him the satisfaction of seeing her all sprawled out and panting for him for a few seconds before she moves again. It isn't hard, after all. The two clients she's had today are her favorites for a reason.

His wet fingers caress her hip before he’s turning her onto her stomach and pulling her to her knees. “Beautiful.” He groans, bending down to kiss along her back.

"And now you've got this pretty pussy dripping all over again," she purrs, looking back at him over her shoulder.

His cock lines up easily and he snaps his hips forward to buried himself deep, knowing she can take it. “Fuck.” He hisses, loving how her cunt squeezes him tight. “Fuck.”

Not so long as to be painful, but long enough and thick enough to make her feel incredibly feel, Vanessa rolls her hips back to him and lowers herself onto her elbows to brace herself against whatever pace he decides to set. "Feels so fucking good, baby." She loves not having to lie or perform, the time she spends with Javi is much more desirable for it.

He gives her a moment, knowing that he is girthy enough to need to adjust to him. It doesn’t matter how many men she fucks daily. He groans and twitches inside her. “So good, sweetheart.” He hums. “So good.”

Vanessa lets him set the pace once she's adjusted to the feel of him inside her, rocking back into his hips and letting out an encouraging moan. If Javi needs to relieve his stress, she will happily help him with that. He doesn’t start out full tilt. Letting the pace build until the slap of his hips against her ass is just as loud as his grunts, her muffled cries. Every thrust a release for him and making him pull back quicker. Losing himself in her body.

The rhythm of their bodies and creak of the shaking bed weave a kind of hypnotic trance for both of them, letting them dissolve into animalistic sounds of greed and need without any need for traditional vocabulary. It's the perfect escape from thought – something everyone needs at least once in a while. Only the smell of sex and sweat and the sound of fucking fills their senses as Javi and Vanessa work to fuck each other breathless.

His fingers dig into her hips, holding her steady as he plows into her. Watching her ass bounce and shake from the force of his thrusts. It’s not going to last too much longer from the way his body is start to prime itself and he hunches over her, sliding fingers to her clit to rub that sensitive little nub.

Vanessa's panting picks up, her back bowed and her cheek against the crumpled blankets while he moves over her at an increasingly frantic pace. He's close and she wants him to take everything he needs on the way.

“Fuck.” Javi hisses, gritting his teeth to hold back. “Come on, Vanessa, give me one more.” He begs. “Cum for me.”

She's close enough that his next thrust pushes a groan out of her along with a whimper of assent, and if he were the kind of man who was into that she would be calling him Papí and begging him to let her cum. Javi has never been much for permissions or honorifics, though. There's an honesty to the fierocity that he fucks with that Vanessa appreciates.

“Fuck, that’s it, cum. Cum!” He growls, pulling her upright and holding her against his body as his thrusts sharply into her.

The force of his thrusts and the change in angle pushes her over the edge with a rapturous cry, and Vanessa clings to his arm to make sure she doesn't fall over as he chases his own orgasm with unyielding thrusts. The gush of her cunt makes him moan in her ear. Eyes closing in bliss as he gives in to the needs of his body and thrusts deep a final time. Pouring hot waves of himself into her body as he wrings himself dry.

"Fuck, Jav." Vanessa laughs, her legs wobbling as he hangs onto her and keeps them both upright. It just a minute they'll tip over and end up sharing a cigarette sprawled out on her bed, which makes it the second time today that she'll have done that with a client.

“You’ll have to give me a minute if you want to go again.” Javier pants in her ear, smirking and kissing her lobe gently to make up for the marks of his teeth that were made while he was cumming. He tends to bite unconsciously but always soothes it away.

"Take your time." She chuckles, stretching luxuriously as they both plop down on the mattress to catch their breath.

He chuckles and pats her hip as he eases out of her. Sighing in satisfaction and staring up at the ceiling.

There is enough routine here – enough knowledge of each other – that Vanessa reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a cigarette and her lighter, savoring the first drag herself before handing it over to Javi. If he wants to talk he will, and he almost always does. But sometimes he enjoys a few minutes to just think of nothing, so she won't take that from him.

The cigarette is gladly accepted, breathed into his lungs and he lets the nicotine spreads through his system and mellows him even more. “I didn’t see Freckles or Helena.” He observes quietly.

"Freckles is...resting." Enigmatic replies don't go far with Javi, Vanessa knows that, but since she knows he's going to be angry she hopes that he'll just accept it for once. Highly unlikely, of course, but a girl can hope.

He catches the hesitation and he braces himself for the answer to the question that he will ask. “Who?” He asks simply, knowing she will understand what he means.

Vanessa sighs, pinching her eyes shut and wishing she hadn't said anything. "La Quica."

Javier tenses, his hand that had been stroking her thigh freezes. “Bad?”

"She'll be okay." She will. At least that isn't a lie or simply wishful thinking. Freckles will be fine. But right now she doesn't look it.

Javi turns his head and his eyes bore into hers, gauging the truth in them. “What set him off?” He asks, sitting up and reaching for his pants.

"He was too drunk to keep it up and he blamed it on her." It's not as though he was the first client to have that problem by any means, or the first to be angry about it, or the first to take it out on the girl he had hired. La Quica just has a particular ability to always take things too far. "It's not like it's a new problem around here."

He knows that. The girls have a dangerous job and some of the unfortunate ones had paid the highest price when their client got too angry, or vicious. He clenches his jaw as he pulls out his wallet and pulls out several folded hundred-dollar bills. “Give this to her.” He tells Vanessa, twisting around to hand her the money.

"Javi..." She shakes her head, it being the second time today that she's been offered far too much money to help Freckles by someone who technically owes the girls nothing.

“Take it.” He waves it towards her again. It will all be expensed out anyway. Why not let some of Uncle Sam’s money go where it can actually help for once? She reluctantly takes it and Javi relaxes slightly. “My partner’s wife is a nurse.” He offers. “I could bring Freckles to her.” From what he’s seen from Steve Murphy, he would never let his pretty little wife near a brothel, but he could have her come to his apartment.

"Between you and–" Vanessa shuts her mouth and shakes her head again, but tucks the bills away in the same drawer where she put your donation to Freckles' well being. "We have enough to pay." She tells him, grateful that he would offer regardless. "It doesn't have to be a charity case."

“It’s not charity.” Javier steps into his jeans and pulls them up over his hips, tucking his cock away. The idea of another round was killed by the grim realities of the professions they work in. He wonders who she had been about to say, but figures it might be another regular. “You also need to put some away for when this isn’t an option.”

"What do Americans call it?" She looks up at him as he dresses and wishes the relaxed bubble of post-orgasm relaxation hadn't been popped so abruptly. "A rainy day fund?"

“Slush fund.” Javi huffs in amusement, turning towards her and deciding to sit back down and leans in to kiss her.

"That's it." The returned kiss is soothing. Appreciative. And slightly amused. "I knew I had heard something like that." From her other American regular customer. And what an irony that is.

“You should relax the rest of the night.” Javi murmurs, stealing one last kiss before he pulls away again. Needing to get dressed and see Carillo.

"I'll try." It's nice of him to suggest it, but she does have to work if someone shows up for her. That's how the job works.

Once he’s dressed, gun reattached to his hip, Javi reaches out and pinches her chin softly. “Be good.” He murmurs, winking at her before he turns around to walk out of her room.

"Never." Vanessa calls back, shaking her head a little as he strolls out into the hall and settling back on her bed. She'll clean up and then go and check on Freckles, but she's going to allow herself a second to breathe first.

Javi’s easy smile slips into a frown as he steps out of the brothel. The dim lap light makes him look even more forbidding as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. Taking a drag as he looks around the deserted street and then marches towards his jeep with the determined gait of a man on a mission.

******

A bare five minute later, Vanessa taps lightly on Freckles' door, the four rhythmic knocks letting the girls inside know it's one of them and not a customer. Helena opens the door a crack with worry in her eyes, but relaxes the second she sees Vanessa in her robe. "You've had a busy day," she observes, stepping back to let the other woman in and shutting the door tight behind her.

“Both of our favorite customers.” She snorts and walks towards the bed. Freckles looks horrible, her face still swollen and the bruises garish on her normally beautiful features. She sits down and takes her friend’s hand. “They both are upset you are ‘ill’.” She tells the other girl.

"Javi must be pissed if you told him the truth," Freckles observes, resting amongst her pillows and grateful for the respite of a few days to heal. Yesterday even talking was excruciating.

“I think that’s an understatement.” Vanessa murmurs, pulling the money out of her pocket and pressing it into Freckles’ hand. “Both of them were angry, but Javier left before round two.”

"That's furious in Javi terms." Helena leans over, inspecting the bills, and bites her lips when she looks back at Vanessa. "Both of them?" She asks, seeing the amount there.

She nods, shaking her head with a small chuckle. “So goddamn alike it’s almost comical.”

"Have they ever even met?" They haven't that Helena can remember, but it's not as though she keeps close tabs on either of them.

“Not that I know of.” She shrugs. “I honestly don’t know if they want to meet.” All three women have heard their views on soulmates.

"What if we want them to meet?" Freckles sips a glass of water and laughs at the very thought of it. "Can you imagine? Running into each other here of all places?"

The other two women laugh, knowing that each of you would be defensive for different reasons. “They might have seen each other on the street.” Vanessa admits. “She left right before Javi got here.”

"Does she even like men?" It had astonished Helena the first time she'd seen the matching marks for herself, but the fact of soulmates is pretty undeniable when it's right in front of her nose. "She always sees one of the three of us. I don't think I've ever even heard her talk about a man."

“She said that women are better pussy eaters, so I assume she has some male reference.” Vanessa laughs. “I don’t know for sure though.”

"And she's absolutely not wrong." Helena steals a drink of Freckles' water and lays back with Vanessa on her other side. "At least she won't be disappointed in her soulmate if they ever end up in bed together."

“I love the days Javi wants to go down on me.” Vanessa agrees. “Normally he wants me to ride after too.”

"You've got a thumbprint bruise blooming on your hip, baby." Helena observes with a tilt of her head. "Was he already worked up when he came in? He normally doesn't get rough otherwise."

“A little.” She admits with a grin. “It was more of a work up to that fast and furious pace that makes you squeal.”

"I almost hope that man never leaves the country." As much as she is trying to work things out and get away herself, Helena still has her doubts that it will pan out. In the meantime? She is very much appreciative of the few clients like Javi they have in their lives.

“I know, he has you come over to his apartment.” Vanessa nudges the other woman’s foot playfully. “Is it messy?”

“No messier than he is here.” Helena shrugs. Once, on a night that has become a very fun story that she keeps for just herself and her closest friends, Javi had actually made her squirt. That was messy.

“So….a little rough around the edges but mostly contained.” Freckles hums. “He’s probably the one man I could see falling for. As stupid as that is.”

“We’d all be in a hell of a lot of trouble if we let ourselves think like that,” Helena points out, despite having had the same thought more times than she cares to admit.

“I know, which is why I don’t let myself think like that unless things are really bad.” Right now, things are bad for her, so it’s a nice little escape.

“You dream all you want right now, honey.” Vanessa urges, soothing one hand over Freckles’ thigh in gentle strokes. “While I’m thinking of it…” she looks between the other girls. “Javi’s partner’s wife is a nurse. Said we can bring you to her to get you checked out. I honestly don’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“Is it that bad?” Freckles ask, having been afraid to look in the mirror at the damage.

“I think you’ll heal just fine, sweetheart,” Vanessa assures her, her soothing hand doubling down on gentle gestures. “But she might be able to help with pain. Or getting it to settle down and heal faster. And…nicer.” They work in a job where their beauty is an asset, and it would not be the first time that a customer’s brutality left one of the girls without that particular asset, making it harder for her to work.

“Hopefully she’s not a bitch.” Freckles sigh, resigned to the fact that it would be a good idea. “Or think we are fucking her husband.”

“I don’t think he would have suggested it if he thought she would be a bitch to us,” Helena points out, though it might be wishful thinking.

“He doesn’t tolerate much shit.” Vanessa adds, wishing she had some alcohol to help them relax.

Helena nods, knowing that’s true, and adds: “And if she turns out to be a cunt? We’ll leave.”

“I will call him.” Helena offers, shooting them both a smile. “And maybe he will want me to stay after.” She jokes.

“Maybe.” Vanessa smiles, knowing that Helena is attached and that some of the girls suspect Javi might even be a little attached to her. Mostly the whispers are jealous, but Vanessa tries not to be.

Freckles hums and when she twists to get comfortable, she groans in pain. “I— if you think it’s alright.” She concedes softly.

“You should rest, honey.” Vanessa coos softly. “Helena will call Javi and find out when we can take you to the nurse. We’ll get you better in no time.”

Nodding, the injured woman closes her eyes and sighs softly, trying to relax.

******

It's past dark when you get home, the nightlife of Bogotá coming alive around you as the city pours out onto the streets to celebrate the night of another day. The club on the ground floor of your building has just opened for the night, and you slip past the bouncer with a friendly wave to have a drink and say hello before heading upstairs to solitude for the night. You do have work to do, but it's nice to at least see Inez and soak up a little of the atmosphere before it gets too busy. The crowds won't be out in earnest for another few hours.

Before you even sit down at the bar, there is a drink in front of you. Inez smiling at you as she leans back to grab her rag and wipe up a little of the condensation from another patron’s beer bottle. “Surprised to see you here.” She hums.

“I was feeling social.” Is your excuse, but it’s more like you know you’re probably going to be hunched over your typewriter for a while and you wanted something nice before resigning yourself to that fate. “Besides. You make the best Coco Loco in Bogotá, why would I miss out on that?”

“You shouldn’t.” She snorts, watching as you pick up the glass and take a sip. She likes the hum of approval you give and when your drink is already halfway down, she pours the rest of the drink from the mixer into the glass. “What have you been up to today?”

“Work. Mostly.” Even your stop to see Vanessa could technically be considered work since you learned a bit about the tone of what’s going on with the sicarios lately. “I have to write something up to send to my editor.”

“They can’t expect you to come down, spend a week and have the story of the year, can they?” Inez snorts, not sure why Americans are so interested in Colombia. She enjoys you being here, but it’s strange to think of how involved they are with her country.

“I need at least a few inches to prove it’s worth the expense of bankrolling me down here.” After about a month in the country you’ve only managed to send back copies of your notes and drafts of actual article inches. You’re working at it, but the story down here is so much larger than you thought that it’s taking time to get all the puzzle pieces together.

“Have you given any thought to my idea?” She asks, certain you have already dismissed it.

“Actually, I did.” Inez had been the one to suggest that the working girls of the city might have far more information than some others because of braggarts with wagging tongues. And she was very right. “They’ve been my best source so far, so thank you for that. Most of my running around the past few days has been following up on things they told me.” You’ve also been a paying customer since the suggestion was put to you, but your neighbor doesn’t necessarily need to know that. Inez has been a good friend but if you didn’t live across the hall from her she probably wouldn’t have given you a second thought, which is fine.

“Good.” She smirks slightly and shrugs. “They are a good group of girls. Just have some shitty luck.”

“Everybody has shitty luck sometimes. Nobody deserves to get judged for it.” You shrug a little, enjoying the alcoholic bite of the coconut cocktail. “Or judged for what their job is. And those girls get plenty of bullshit. I promise you, they’re not getting any grief from me.”

Another customer comes up to the bar, so Inez quickly shifts over to them, a bright smile and quick smatter of small talk to hopefully get better tips.

There isn’t much business yet, which is normal, but you take a few minutes to survey the early arrivals. There is a group of women that comes twice every week without fail — coworkers, a group between three or even six of them who come to each dinner and stay until the party picks up. You’ve figured out from eavesdropping and the types of clothes they arrive in that their office closes just as the club opens. A pair of men that you’ve seen before files in after them. They’ve been here twice before but tonight they look far more excited than the previous visits. Good for them, you think, smiling to yourself when you see their hands brush and fingers twine momentarily as they sit down in a booth.

The man who just sat two stools down from you at the bar is new. Or at least new to you. Inez bats her eyelashes and flirts, making an art of mixing his drink and gets a large bill handed to her in return. She winks as she walks away, back in your direction.

Sliding to a stop in front of you, she turns her head to make sure the man is occupied with the mirror over the bar that gives him a sweeping view of the place. “CIA.” She murmurs quietly, motioning over to him.

“Seriously?” You’ve seen them around the embassy but not often enough or close up enough that you would recognize one of them out in the wild. Clearly.

“Mmmmhmmmm.” She glances over at him again. “Maybe I should introduce you? Or you think you can manage that yourself?”

Glancing to your side again, you consider what better or worse end might come from that kind of thing and hum to yourself quietly. "If nobody shows up for him before his next round," you murmur to Inez, swirling the watery remains of your own drink. "Put the next one on my tab and tell him I sent it. We'll see if that gets him talking."

She smirks and nods. “You are a smart girl.” She promises before looking past you to take the ticket from on of the waitresses that work the booths.

"I do my best," you sigh as she walks away, but sometimes it really feels like your best just isn't enough.

The club starts to fill up, the music gradually increasing until it’s a thumping rhythm showcasing the hottest dance music. Bodies start to move, but the man next to you just watches the mirror.

“Waiting for someone?” It’s a risk. Chatting someone up at a bar is always a risk. But considering you know what he does, you’re going to switch to English and how he feels infatuated to talk to you just by virtue of being a compatriot.

It’s always intriguing to hear English, so he turns to look at you. Knowing that he recognizes you from somewhere around the Embassy. “Not really.” He admits, taking another sip of his drink and glancing at your left hand. “You?”

“Not really.” It’s a crap shoot with men, you’ve found. Whether they’re bothered by the fact that you’re not a stick or willing to go for any old cunt they think they can fuck. Women tend to have more appreciation for a plush figure. Thankfully this CIA agent only seems concerned with the lack of ring on your left hand. Well, that’s fine. “Have I seen you around somewhere?” You ask, turning a little on your stool to be facing him. The fact that you know the answer already doesn’t matter.

“Don’t know, where have you been hanging out?” He asks, catching the cute bartender’s eye and motioning for another round of drinks for you and him.

“I went by the American embassy last week.” Trying to make it seem like nothing so he doesn’t put his walls up in front of a journalist, you shrug and just say, “Paper work” as an excuse.

“Gotcha.” He doesn’t offer up what he does, despite some throwing it around like a badge of honor, he prefers to be low key. “Are you visiting?”

"Trying to find myself," is your enigmatic answer, though it is technically about ninety percent a lie. That wistful, dreamy part of you that read Gabriel García Márquez novels and fantasized about finding love with exotic sunsets in the background in still hoping you might be able to scrounge some truth about yourself out of this assignment. But really? It's work. "You?"

“Work.” He answers simply, nodding towards Inez as she sets two new glasses down in front of you both and grins. “Decided to see what the night life is like here.”

"This place stays busy until all hours of the night. Party music and people dancing, shouting, all of it." Still not quite sure what might get this stalwart CIA agent to crack even a little, to give you anything, you mentally shrug and decide to go for the old standby. The expression on his face wonders how you could know what this place is like – if you're a regular maybe, or just like to haunt the bar here. So you offer, "I rent an apartment upstairs."

“Really?” His interest perks, like a dog that’s caught a scent. He reaches for his drink and sends you a smile. “What’s that like? I bet it’s…noisy.”

"It can be." Bingo. Hooked the fish, you think, prouder of yourself than you probably ought to be. "But sometimes I like to make just as much noise."

“Doubt anyone down here could hear that.” He glances back up at the mirror. “Can you see the bar from up there?”

"You can see the street." It's an odd question, but you don't fight it. "From my living room windows, I mean. The door to get upstairs...and my bedroom...those don't face the street." He's sniffing around for something from you, too. You can feel it. But you're just not sure what.

He nods and leans back to look at you. Assessing you. “So no one can really see you come and go.” He hums. “That’s smart. Safe. A pretty woman like you needs to take precautions.”

Something in his tone doesn't sound entirely sincere, but since you're not either, you're not going to hold it against him. "I'm a city girl," you assure him with a demure smile, pretending like you're hiding being flustered behind your drink as you take a sip. "I know how to look out for myself."

“That’s good.” He sends you a confident smirk. “I’m Alex.” He offers, leaning close. “What’s your name?”

You tell him, though he’ll probably end up calling a condescending ‘sweetheart’ if anything at all, and decide to lean a little closer just to put an edge in the flirtation. He isn’t bad looking, after all, or rude. He hasn’t been misogynistic to you tonight or haughty. He just seems quite bland overall, which isn’t a sin even if it does make something in the back of your mind dread the idea of seeing your soulmate’s scars on him when his shirt comes off later. The tattoo on his thigh. Your own scars marking memories that your soulmate would have felt but never shared.

Nope. Stop thinking about shit like that. Soulmates are for saps.

“That’s a beautiful name.” He admits, taking another sip of his drink and repeats it. “Do you want to talk somewhere a little quieter?” He asks suggestively.

“I think I know a place.” Pointedly looking up to the ceiling, you slip the strap of your purse onto your shoulder and slide gracefully off of your stool. Inez has been keeping one eye on you, and you give her a subtle nod to promise her that everything is okay as your new friend Alex shifts onto his own feet.

Alex pulls out his wallet and puts down the money for the drinks and a hearty tip. Wanting to make sure that the bartender stays warm to him. This club is important and he needs to be welcomed.

"Have a good night." Inez calls you by name, wanting there to be no mistake that if anything even vaguely out of the ordinary happens to you or around you, she will know and she will know who is responsible.

"Night," you call back, allowing yourself to be lead out of the club, though you know you'll have to lead the way from there.

“Have you been here long?” Alex asks as you lead him towards the stairs to your apartment. It’s ingenious to say the least and he’s glad he had sat at the bar tonight rather than a booth.

"About a month." The charming smile on your lips as you head up the stairs around the tight corner of the club's back hall is girlish. Smitten. And a put on. You're still wondering if he's going to spill the fac that he's CIA or if you're going to have to hope he talks in his sleep. "It's not a lot of space, but I'm just one girl." One girl who typically has all of her work spread out on nearly every surface in the apartment. Thank god you went on frustration-induced cleaning bender yesterday.

“I don’t like having a lot of space if it’s just me.” Alex admits, looking around the small little hallways for any type of security. “More to clean.”

“That’s true, I guess. Smaller is easier.” As you lead the way up the stairs, a large caramel-colored lump on the top of the stairs starts to growl menacingly and lift its sizable head. Teeth bare at the sight of a man behind you, but you hustle up the stairs and coo gently to the enormous mastiff in a sweet voice. “Hey Chi-Chi. How’s my girl?” Immediately the dog stands, bumping her head into the hand you’ve reached out toward her and snuggling into you for pets. She is a living security system that really loves snuggles.

“Yours?” Alex stopped at the first growl, watching warily as the size of the dog is revealed. She’s obviously a big breed and doesn’t take kindly to strangers.

“My landlady,” you explain, still coping at the enormous dog in a mix of English and Spanish that she is obviously used to and enjoys. “There are a few single women in this building, so she taught her dog to sleep on the stairs and guard us. Didn’t she, Chi-Chi baby?” It’s a good system, and you smother the dog’s large head in kisses one more time before coming back down a few stairs and bringing Alex forward by the hand. “She hates men.” Is your casual addition to the thought as you lead him down a short hallway.

“All the time?” He asks, looking behind him at the dog as he expects her to attack him. “Or just those she doesn’t know?”

“If you come around more than once, I’ll teach her to like you.” Something tells you to very much doubt it, but you just try to toss him a semi-charming smile while you dig in your purse for the key to your apartment.

“Well I guess it all depends on how tonight goes, hmm?” He asks, stepping closer and grabbing hold of your thick hips. “If you invite me back.”

“I guess you better impress me.” When your fingers close around your keys at the same time his find your hips, you look back over your shoulder and find a little smirk curling in the corner of your mouth. “Good start.”

He chuckles as you open the door, shuffling in behind you and he nudges it closed with his foot. “Then let’s see where we go from here.”

Inside the door, you drop your purse and keys on the side table, flip the lock on the door so you won’t be disturbed, and finally turn around in Alex’s arms to let your fingers trail through the hair on the back of his neck. “Let’s see,” you agree, already feeling his shoulders drop as he bends down to press his lips to yours. No pre-destined bullshit or obligation in sight, the fact that he isn’t your soulmate speaks to you. Your life. Your choice. And tonight the choice is him.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo

My Masterlist!

[notjustjavierpena]

How did reader reveal that she was pregnant with Lucas?

Bun (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This might be heavily influenced by a TikTok that I watched months ago. I hope you like it. It seemed to fit a first-time-pregnant couple.

Summary: You do a pregnancy reveal for Javier!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic fluff, pregnancy reveal, hugs and kisses, Javi is a himbo, reader is a MILF

Word count: 700

Bun

“How bad is it? Is it very bad?” You ask, peeking over Javier’s shoulder and into the oven. It’s a miracle that the smoke detector has not gone off because a tiny cloud has just emerged from your oven.

“Honey,” Javier sighs dramatically. He has oven mittens on, pulling out a rack from the oven whilst you are giggling, “I love you so much but why would you make a single roll? How did you even measure the ingredients?”

He places the rack on top of the stove. On the baking sheet lies a single bun, black from charcoal as you have accidentally forgotten about it in your excitement to tell your secret. You roll your eyes but cannot stop smiling. You know something he does not, “It’s not a roll, it’s a bun.”

Javier pulls off the oven mitts and hangs them in their usual spot on a hook on the wall, furrowing his brow, “Okay?”

“What did you just pull out of the oven?” You say. You really thought that he was going to get there sooner.

“A burnt roll,” he replies with slight exasperation.

“Noooo,” you laugh at his obliviousness, “It’s still not a roll. It’s a bun.”

“Fine,” he shakes his head, “A burnt bun then.”

“It’s a bun,” you try to spell it out for him, “… In the oven.”

“Uh-huh? Yeah?” He narrows his eyes in confusion.

“We have a bun in the oven,” you smirk.

“I just pulled it out,” he argues.

You run a hand over your face, and then you start laughing loudly but it only seems to annoy your husband. If he only knew that you want to make a joke about pulling out being too little too late.

“What? Why are you laughing?” He is starting to lose patience with you.

“Javi,” you say his name sweetly when you finally start to calm down, “We’re having a baby.”

The sentence’s meaning takes a moment for him to process but suddenly, his eyebrows rise up into his hair. He looks much younger now, mouth falling open in amazement and awe, “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“I took a pregnancy test while you were at work,” you giggle as he practically launches himself in your direction. He picks you up from the floor when he hugs you, causing a squeak to leave you, “And then I took two more. They’re all positive.”

“You are joking!” He gapes at you when he places you back down on the floor, mood changing incredibly quickly between surprised, happy, and suspicious. You nod and he runs both hands through his hair, “Are you sure?”

“I’m not joking, and actually I’m positive,” your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming due to happiness and Javier laughs genuinely at your silly joke. You know it’s only been eight weeks but this just feels so right, and you will confirm it at the doctor’s next week.

“Oh, mi amor. ¡Qué fantástico! (Oh, my love. How fantastic)!” His kiss takes you by surprise but you hold onto his wrists as he cups your face and melt against him, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you bask in your happiness and love when you pull away, bump your noses together, “Now we’ll just have to hope they take after me. Otherwise, we’re in for some serious trouble.”

“Ay,” he tuts as he kisses you a few times more. You pull his hands from your face and wrap his arms around your waist. He hugs you close to his chest, “These strong genes are sure to give you a Peña clone.”

“Alright, Peña,” you giggle into his shoulder, “We get it.”

“It’s really ‘we’ now, huh?” He talks into your ear.

“It was always we. As in I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby,” you say dreamily, “I’ll be a mom.”

“You’ll be a MILF,” he snickers when you pull back to glare at him. You slap his chest.

“Not in front of the b-a-b-y,” you say with fake outrage.

“A M-I-L-F then,” he jokes back.

“You’re incorrigible,” you lean back into his embrace.

He puts his arms around you even tighter, talking against your cheek, “I never know how to behave accordingly around you, Momma.”

.

.

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[ihaveitprinteddout]

SOFT!JAVI NEVER FAILS TO MAKE ME MELT 🥺😭

If I could hold you for a minute

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier wants nothing more than to go home to you. And thanks to his partner's generosity, he gets to.

Tags: just pure FLUFF, mayyybe a sprinkle of suggestive humor, established relationship, Steve teases Javi a bunch, Javier is a BIG SIMP (i'm serious)

Warnings: none ♡

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: something different for you guys 🙈 i'm sadly still on semi-hiatus because of my finals, but I managed to finish this little fic as a break from my angsty Joel pieces. i reaaaally hope you all will like it 😌💕 also, it's dedicated to my dumbass in crime @lily-inbloom 🫡😘 luv you babes

This was one of the worst days agent Peña had in a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

First, two people from Escobar’s inner circle managed to escape the raid on the laboratory in which he and Murphy participated, leaving both of them exhausted and frustrated. Then Melissa gave Javier a bunch of shit because of some documents, and on the way to his desk some asshole bumped into him, making him drop and break his phone. And now they had to stay after hours to wait for Carrillo.

“It’s for you, Peña.”

So yeah. His day was shit so far.

His pity party was cut short when Steve sitting across from him hissed his name again. Javier shot him an irritated look and flipped him off, not in the mood to talk to any informants or their superiors.

“Not now, Murphy,” he grumbled, but his partner still handed him the stationary telephone from their desk, ignoring the hostility radiating from the man.

“Just take it, asshole. She’s worried you’re not answering her calls.”

At that, Javi sat up straight and in a split second took the handset from Steve, pressing it to his ear.

“¿Querida?” he asked quietly, paying no attention to Murphy rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Hi, Javi,” your voice came through the receiver. “You weren’t picking up.”

Almost instantly the tension was lifted from Javier’s shoulders and he exhaled deeply. You had a talent of putting him at ease, even when you weren’t by his side.

“Lo siento, cariño. Some idiot broke my… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to ask when you finish work? I can swing by and we can go grab some food on the way home.”

He sighed tiredly, rubbing his brows. He hated saying no to you and if he could, Javi would give you the world on a silver platter – but some things, he didn’t have any control over.

“No sé, cariño. We have a shitton of papers to read with Steve, and we’re waiting for Carrillo to fill us in on the latest action. I’ve got no idea how long it’s gonna take, sweetheart.”

Steve lifted his head and shot Javier a teasing look, but Peña ignored him, turning his chair to the side.

“Alright, so what do you say I’ll bring you some takeout? You can also ask Steve what he’d want, I’ll be at this place we went to a week ago–”

“No, querida, no,” he sighed, this time with affection. Your voice was a temptation enough to throw everything to hell and run home to you, but to hear the kindness and love in your words, without even seeing your expression… It was heart-clenching. “We don’t need anything, you just go back home safely. I’ll try to get away from here as soon as I can.”

You didn’t answer at first, but then hummed half-heartedly.

“If you say so. But please, eat something.”

Javi smiled absentmindedly, covering his eyes with his fingers. He imagined your concerned expression, the receiver nestled next to your ear, near the spot he so liked to nuzzle with his nose. “How do you know I haven’t already?”

He could hear a trace of a smirk in your voice.

“I know you, Peña.”

“Too well, I think.”

“You love it, though.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He heard you yawn and the smile disappeared from his face. “You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll get to bed when you’re back.”

“I won’t be home for at least a couple more hours, sweetheart,” Javi told you softly. “You can go to sleep.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you repeated stubbornly.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, cariño.” There was that sweet, teasing note in your tone, and a grin spread across Javier’s face again. “But that will just give you more reasons to come home quickly.”

“I’ll try,” he just offered in a whisper, resting his forehead on his fist. “Call Steve if anything happens, alright?”

“Okay, okay, I will.” Long since gone were the times you’d argue with him about that. You knew how terrified he was at the thought of losing you. “I love you, baby.”

“También te amo.”

He didn’t immediately hang up, waiting just in case you wanted to add something else. The line went dead, however, and with his lips pressed Javi put the phone back in the center of the desk.

“You have it bad, Peña.”

Of course. Javier should’ve known Steve will start to nag at him again.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it between his lips. He knew you’d complain about the smell on his hair and clothes when he got home, but he was already too stressed out and in a desperate need of a smoke.

“I’m not in the mood, Murphy,” he muttered, pulling out the lighter.

“I thought a conversation with your sweetheart would brighten up your day?”

Javier looked up and just as he suspected, Steve had that same stupid grin on his face, like every time the topic was brought up.

Ever since your and Javi’s relationship became more serious, Steve was taking every opportunity to tease his partner. If Javi was feeling generous, he could kind of understand where his friend is coming from – after all, he himself didn’t think he’d ever act like a dumb teenage boy in the presence of a woman. But something about you mesmerized him from the very beginning, and, miraculously, here you both were, in a steady and loving relationship Javier Peña was always afraid of hoping for.

But alas, it was not a day to be understanding. He glared at Steve when the fellow agent didn’t take a hint.

“Shut up.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a food delivery, you know,” Steve spoke up with a smirk under his mustache. “I’m quite hungry.”

“I’ll sooner hire Escobar to make you sandwiches than let her do it.”

“You wound me, Javi. And to think I was about to take care of Carrillo and let you go home early.”

Javier looked up in surprise at his friend’s knowing smile. Then he blinked, slowly and tiredly, wondering if he didn’t misheard.

“Really?” he asked suspiciously, to which Steve shrugged.

“Why not? I’m in no rush since Connie and Olivia are in Miami, and as funny as it is to watch you yearn and pine, your brooding gets annoying after a while.” Javi didn’t move from his place, so Steve nodded in the direction of the exit. “Just go home to her, Peña. Before I change my mind.”

The face of the agent broke into a smile before he could collect himself. He stood up so quickly that he bumped his hip against the desk, but it didn’t phase him one bit. With a quick shove across the desktop, he swept all the documents to the folder and took his gun from the drawer, tucking it into his jeans.

Murphy was watching him with a smirk.

“You owe me, Javi.”

“Sure,” his partner replied over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll get you a sandwich tomorrow.”

A quiet laugh followed him when Peña promptly ran out of their office.

*****

After the call with Javi you tried to find yourself an occupation, intending to stay up as long as you could. He was working like crazy lately, sometimes not even coming home for the night, so a chance to finally spend some time with him – even if it would only be for half an hour – was something you didn’t want to miss.

So you wandered around his apartment. You read a little, watched TV, tidied up the cutlery drawer, folded Javi’s shirts, and now you got onto washing the dishes left from your dinner two days ago.

You were humming quietly, that stupid song which seemed to play on every radio as of late, when you heard a small sound from the hall. You paused and turned off the tap, your heart pounding in your chest, and sure enough there was it again – but this time you clearly recognized it as a key turning in the lock.

Before you could think of what to do, the door opened and Javi came in, locking eyes with you immediately. You blinked slowly, rooted to the spot with your hands lifted, still covered in water and soapsuds.

“Javi?” you asked in surprise. “What are you doin–”

Without saying a word, Javier came up to you in two long strides and put his hands around your waist, dipping you back and kissing you deeply. You made a noise in your throat, moving your wet hands aside, but then sighed contentedly as his lips caressed yours.

“I missed you, cariño. So much,” Javier murmured, not moving further away from your lips than two millimeters apart. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“But what about– Steve, and…” you tried to ask during those brief moments when he gave you a second to take a breath, but was unable (and unwilling) to move away when he was holding you so tightly.

“They’ll be fine,” Javier murmured, moving his hands to your cheeks to cradle them tenderly. “Steve said he’ll handle it.”

He firmly pressed his lips to yours one more time, his eyebrows scrunched with affection. You didn’t ask anything else, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, still careful not to get his clothes wet. After almost a minute of tender kisses and whispered Spanish phrases, Javi rested his forehead against yours with a content sigh. His eyes were closed and he just hummed when you nudged his nose with yours.

“You weren’t supposed to be home for the next few hours,” you said quietly.

“It was a damn torture. I couldn’t wait, hermosa,” he murmured and exhaled heavily. “God, I needed this.”

A bright smile spread across your face at the thought of this man thinking about and longing to see you so much. He sounded so stressed out and tired over the phone, but now it was like all nerves left him for just a moment.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked in a whisper, but Javi shook his head.

“No. Just stay here.”

“I have to rinse the dishwashing liquid off my hands, though. And you need to take a shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

“A little. But I mostly mean the cigarette smoke on your hair.”

Javi sighed, murmuring something under his breath. You gave him a peck on the lips. “Go on, cariño. I’ll get everything ready and then we can lay down.”

Javier grumbled, displeased, but didn’t argue any further. “You’ll have to make it up to me, sweetheart.”

“If you manage to keep your eyes open.” Your comment made him crack a smile and you mirrored it. “Go shower. And then come back to me.”

Javi sighed but obediently went towards the bathroom, putting down his aviators and the gun on the table on the way there. You watched him fondly, your heart still swelling with love at how relieved he looked to see you. He must’ve felt your attention on him, somehow, because he turned around in the doorway and sent you a smirk.

“If you like the view so much, you can hop into the shower with me,” he teased, and you hummed, pretending to consider it.

“I would, but then it wouldn’t be a ‘quick shower’.” He smiled knowingly, and you scrunched your nose at him. “Javi, the longer you stand here, the less time we’ll have for cuddles.”

“You raise a good point, hermosa.”

With one last look he disappeared in the bathroom and you shook your head at his antics. A few seconds later you heard the sound of rushing water, so you hurried to your shared bedroom to get everything ready.

You pulled down the blinds and flipped the pillows to the colder side, and then swiftly changed into one of Javier’s shirts you liked to sleep in. You also took his gun from the table, knowing he preferred to have it within reach when he was resting with you.

Earlier that day you started to clean the cupboards, so the room was pretty messy. You spent a couple of minutes putting the piles of clothes and various knick knacks in their places, trying to be as quick as possible. Then you heard the water in the bathroom stopping, and it only took Javi two more minutes before he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.

His hair was wet and chest bare, and exhaustion was marking his handsome features, painting shadows over his face. Without a second of hesitation Javi went up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. You wanted to say that you’ll be done in a moment, but didn’t get a chance – he hid his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling tiredly, and started dragging you backwards to the bed. You swat at him with laughter, but those strong arms of his just held onto you tighter.

“Cariño, I still have to finish–”

“Leave it. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Javi…”

“Come lay with me, mi sol.” He softly pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. You felt him smirking. “Come on. Please.”

You faltered at this word, so rarely used by him. He sighed into your shoulder and swayed you two gently from side to side.

Javi was right. Everything else could wait.

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling him relax behind your back.

“Alright,” you murmured. “Come here, baby.”

He hummed and kissed your neck again, then your shoulder, sneaking his hands under your – technically his – shirt.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in my clothes?” he asked quietly.

“Every time I wear it.” You felt him take a breath, but you beat him to it. “And don’t say they’d look even better on the floor.”

Javi chuckled and hugged you tighter, still slowly moving backwards with you. “Not this time. Just wanna have you in my arms.”

“You mean in your bed?” You couldn’t help but tease him, and yelped when he bit your neck lightly.

“Don’t tempt me.”

When you two reached the bed, Javi stopped and slowly turned you around before sitting down. You took his face in your hands, staring down at him lovingly, while he gently ran his palms up and down your thighs. He did look tired, with the exhaustion and sadness swimming in his beautiful dark eyes. After a moment he exhaled shakily and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your stomach.

“Wanna lie down?” you whispered softly, and he nodded without a word. “Okay. Come here.”

You gently released yourself from his hold and laid down, immediately reaching for Javier and tugging him to lay on top of you.

The moment his head touched your chest, Javi exhaled heavily with relief, closing his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing the wet strands aside.

“Do you need anything?” you asked quietly, but he just muttered 'no' with a light shake of his head.

“I’ve got everything I need right here, querida.”

You grinned warmly, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re quite a romantic, Javier Peña.”

He chuckled under his breath, lifting himself slightly to meet your adoring gaze. “I thought you already knew all about it.”

“Did I?” you asked playfully, to which he lifted his head.

“What more can I tell you?” he murmured, leaning over you and smirking when your breath hitched in your throat. His brown irises danced across your face, drinking your features in. “Do you wanna hear how all I think about while working are your lips and the sound of your laugh? How the time spent together isn’t nearly enough for me to fully revel in you? Or…”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you said sheepishly, making Javi grin victoriously. “You’re probably spending that time in the office not thinking about me but of ways to mess with me.”

“Tal vez, mi sol.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and moved lower, whispering into your skin. “But I do wish I could spend more time with you.”

“I know, cariño.” You brushed his hair to the back with your fingers, scratching his occiput. “But it’s not your fault.”

He hummed without conviction, still busy kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. One of his hands went to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles there, while the other climbed up to your hand, entwining your fingers together.

“Didn’t you want to get some rest?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. Your face was hot, and Javi hummed smugly at the pitch of your voice. He lifted his head and brushed your cheek with his knuckles, his hand still holding yours.

“I wanted to spend time con mi hermoso sol.” He touched his forehead to yours lovingly, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I was serious when I said you’re all I need.”

“I think you need some sleep, too.”

Javi grumbled, seemingly giving in, and kissed you sleepily one last time. His eyes were already closing and his mustache scratched your skin lightly.

“No, querida. Just you.”

*****

The next morning, Steve came to work to the sight of Javier trapping you with his arms against his desk. He was leaving soft pecks on your lips every once in a while – so unlike the Peña Murphy had known before – murmuring something to you with a smile, causing you to giggle, too. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but Javier just pulled you closer. The pair was obviously lost in the moment because neither of them noticed Steve, until he threw a pile of files onto his desk.

“Morning, guys,” he said nonchalantly, eyeing your bashful beam and Javi’s crooked smile with a smirk. He noted that his partner looked way better than yesterday. “D’you get any sleep?”

“Actually, I did.” Javier gazed over at you and squeezed your hand with this look of a lovesick puppy that Steve mocked so often. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well.”

“Happy to hear it, because we have a lot to do today.” He sat down and began organizing the notes from Carrillo’s report yesterday, wanting to fill his partner in as soon as possible. He heard Peña sigh.

“Of course.” He glanced up to see the other man stand up and kiss you lovingly – once, twice – before you lightly shoved him back onto the armchair. Steve rolled his eyes when Javi brought your hand to his lips, leaving one last lingering kiss, and then finally letting go of you.

“I’m gonna be late because of you,” you accused him, but he only smirked.

“Lo siento, cariño. Have a good day.”

You said your goodbyes to Steve and turned back to the exit. Murphy shook his head and met his partner’s dark eyes, sparkling with adoration.

“You really have it bad, Peña.”

He didn’t receive any answer, so he just smiled to himself and got back to arranging his desk.

He didn’t get a second of peace, however, because suddenly a paper bag was dropped on the documents he was just filing. Two – a bit squashed – sandwiches were peeking out from the brown paper.

Steve lifted his head, ready to throw another teasing comment, but Javier’s eyes – still full of that raw love – were focused solely on your figure leaving their office.

*****

querida - dear/darling

lo siento, cariño - I’m sorry, darling/honey

no sé - I don’t know

también te amo - I love you, too

hermosa - beautiful

mi sol - my sun/sunshine

tal vez - maybe

[encasedinobsidian]

ain't shit sweeter, ch 1: Evanston

Father in law!Javier Peña x OFC │ Series masterlist

Series summary: In the late 1990’s, Javier Peña transfers to the DEA field office in Chicago, taking the long-awaited opportunity to spend more time with his son while he adjusts to life post-Colombia. But in the midst of it all, he falls in love with the woman who resents his very presence in her life; his daughter-in-law, Mabel.

A/N: LFG. Get in, loser, we're going father in law/pseudo father/replacement daddy angsting and fucking. It's a bit different from anything else I've written, but I hope you all enjoy it ♡ Come get your dinner Javi-whores @metaphoricgibberish and @almostfoxglove

Read here on ao3!

It’s projection at its very finest, it’s Javier as the surrogate, it’s another absent father who's easier to blame, a father willing to talk, whose son doesn’t ask the questions she doesn’t ask her dad. It’s always easier to solve another person’s problems.  So there they are, Javier and Mabel, the girl and the man, reopening each other’s wounds by merely existing in each other’s presence, making each other worse. The father, unable to ask for forgiveness, and the child, unable to trust. Two people who have lost their mothers and never bring it up, who share something they don’t want to share, whose similarities make everything a million times worse.  It also seems to him, and to his great misfortune, that Mabel may have called his bluff somewhere down the line. And that — that — gets on his nerves.

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 3) "session three"

gif by me

pairing: javier peña/joel miller rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 4k content: flirty!javi strikes again, as does shy!joel, seriously they're dorks and it's disgusting(ly adorable), one (1) handjob, anal fingering, emotional sex, unprotected p in a, fucktons of lube, if i missed anything else lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry ♥

series summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

a/n: apologies for taking so long updating this sdfglkjhdfg but the babies have returned! hopefully the last part will come sooner ♥

series masterlist | main masterlist

for updates, follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifications ♥

It was a little last minute, but Joel did his best with what little wiggle room he gave himself. The closest place to the studio, that he could confidently bring Javier to without embarrassing himself, was this nice little local place. It was owned by an old couple that were close with his parents, and their kids took over. Joel was a bit of a regular, but he hadn’t been in a while.

They decided to drive separately since it was a first date – a date, Jesus Christ, help him – and Joel didn’t want to make it seem like he expected anything from Javier.

Joel got there first, and got them a table. His eyes scanned the menu he practically knew by heart, but he wasn’t reading any of it. Blood rushed in his ears and his heart thundered in his chest. He was so god damn nervous.

“Can I get you something to drink while you wait for your guest, sir?”

Joel jumped in his seat, startled, and looked at the young waitress – must be a new hire – an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. “Um, y-yeah. Thanks,” he cleared his throat and set the menu down. “Just some water, please.”

She nodded and took off toward the kitchen. Joel exhaled a heavy breath and shut his eyes, trying to calm himself down. 

“You okay?” Javier asked easily, taking his seat in the booth across from Joel.

“Christ–” Joel startled. “Gonna get a heart attack one of these days,” he mumbled to himself.

“What was that?” Javier chuckled, resting a new cigarette on his right ear.

“Nothin’,” grumbled Joel. “Uh, glad you made it.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Javier smiled. “Have you ordered yet?” “Jus’ some water,” he mumbled, right as the waitress set his glass down on the table.

“Can I get you anything, sir?” She smiled politely.

“I’ll take a beer, sweetheart,” Javier winked. The young girl blushed and nodded jerkily, speeding off to get his drink.

Joel watched quietly, a part of him jealous, and the other amused. Javier didn’t really flirt with him much, but he guessed it made sense since Javi thought Joel hated him before a couple of hours ago. He wiped his sweaty palms onto his jean-clad thighs and sighed softly.

“S-so, um. Jus’ wanted to apologize again for, uh,” he blinked, fumbling for the right words. “Y’know–”

“Joel,” Javi chuckled. “Seriously, it’s okay. We’re good now,” he smiled gently.

Joel smiled shyly and nodded, relieved. “‘m glad to hear that.”

Javi grinned wolfishly and rested his chin on the palm of his hand as he got comfy in his seat. “Don’t tell me you’re nervous, Joel,” he teased. “Big, scary Joel is nervous because of little ol’ me?” He smirked.

Joel made a face, almost like he was going to fight it, but decided not to. That sort of reaction is what made this hard in the first place. “Well,” he started. “Yeah. You’re… You’re a real catch, Javier. And, well, I’m… me,” he shrugged awkwardly.

Javi blinked, and opened his mouth to respond, but the waitress came back before he could say anything. 

“Your beer,” she said. “Would you gentlemen like to order?”

As Joel told her what he’d be having, none of the words sunk in for Javi. He wasn’t really paying attention, too focused on a mole on the left side of Joel’s neck. He wanted to nibble on it.

“And you, sir?” Javi snapped out of it and blinked, looking down at his unopened menu. “Uhh, I’ll have the same,” he smiled politely.

When it was just the two of them again, Javi took a drink of his beer before saying, “Joel, do you think that you’re not also a catch? God,” he groaned, adjusting how he sat a little, his ass still sore from earlier. “I’m gonna be feelin’ you for days, guapo.”

Joel blushed hard, his eyes going wide. “O-oh, well, I–”

“I’ve been wanting to work with you again for a while, Joel,” he said seriously, making a point of checking the older man out shamelessly. 

Joel blinked. “You have?”

Javier snorted and took another drink off his beer. “Yeah, are you kidding me? God, the scene you filmed with Dave? I didn’t think he bottomed for anyone.”

Joel was sharing a striking resemblance to a tomato right now and Javi thought it was adorable. “Um, well,” he gulped. “M-Max said the– the viewers? They really only like seein’ me one way, so,” he shrugged.

Javi rolled his eyes, and laughed lightly. “I know how that is,” he nodded. The waitress set their plates in front of them and wished them a good meal. They gave her their thanks, and Joel started digging in, trying to keep his hands occupied. “Part of the reason I agreed to do our scene,” Javi continued. “And I’d get to do it with you.”

“How do you do that?” Joel chuckled, the tips of his ears red.

“Do what, guapo?” Javi hummed, taking his fork and stabbing it into his food to take a bite.

“That,” Joel stressed, eyes glued to Javier’s mustache as he chewed. His thoughts drifted back to when it was wrapped around his cock and he had to adjust himself under the table. “Flirt.”

Javier shrugged, as if it was the easiest response in the world. “Just comes naturally to me, I guess. ‘Sides,” he smirked, taking another drink of his beer. “It’s easy to do when you’re on the receiving end,” he winked.

“Christ, Javier,” Joel laughed nervously, covering his eyes with one of his hands. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Javi chuckled. “Force of habit.” A comfortable silence settled over the two of them as they ate their matching meals. Joel had an adorable little smile and pink cheeks as he cut the meat on his plate. “Y’know,” Javier started. “I haven’t been wined and dined in a long time. Usually just have casual hookups.”

Joel made a face at that, chewing his food thoughtfully. Each hand had a utensil, one knife and one fork, but he set them down and wiped his mouth and hands clean before he spoke. “‘m sorry to hear that. But I won’t be upset at bein’ the one to break that streak,” he said, voice low as he crossed his arms onto the table.

Javi’s face brightened before he laughed softly. “See! You can flirt just fine, guapo.”

Joel grumbled something to himself and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

An amused expression crossed Javi’s features. He set down his own fork and gulped down the last of his beer in one swig. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here, yeah?”

Joel blinked, looking up at Javi as he stood next to the table. “B-but–”

Javier gave Joel a suggestive look and licked his lips. “Let’s get out of here, Joel,” he grinned, eyes traveling down to the bulge in Joel’s jeans.

Cheeks flushed and eyes wide, Joel clumsily made his way to the register at the front and paid for their meals.

Joel grunted, moaning into Javier’s mouth as he was pressed to the door of Javier’s apartment. Javier kissed him like his life depended on it, and if you asked him, it did.

“Wanna thank you,” Javi breathed, kissing down Joel’s neck until he got to the pulse point at the base of the thick muscle. He kissed his way back up until he latched onto Joel’s jaw, nibbling and sucking on a spot where his beard refused to grow. “Mmm,” he hummed, eyes shut in bliss.

“F-fuck, Javier, I–” Joel gasped, gripping the younger man’s shirt in his rough hands. “W-what for?”

“Takin’ me out,” Javier whispered, sucking Joel’s bottom lip into his mouth as he kissed him deeper. “Fucking me better than anyone else has in months.” He grabbed Joel’s small, plump ass beneath the rough denim and squeezed. He grinded his hard cock against Joel’s, pushing a thin, but muscled thigh between Joel’s legs. “When’s the last time someone got to fuck you, huh? When’s the last time you didn’t have to be in charge?”

Joel’s entire body was on fire, blood rushing south as his cock twitched in interest. He could barely breathe let alone think of a response to such a question. He made a weak noise at the base of his throat and tried pulling back to look at Javier, but the younger man had other plans.

“‘s what I thought,” Javi grinned. Hands gripped onto Joel’s ass, he guided the older man toward his bedroom with his mouth attached to Joel’s neck. He kicked his bedroom door open and gently pushed Joel onto his back on the bed. They tripped a little, causing Joel to bounce when he landed on the bed, and they both chuckled awkwardly. They didn’t mind though, too preoccupied with the task at hand. 

This is what Javier wanted. This is what he’d been craving. A moment alone with Joel with no cameras, no scripts, no Max. Just pure instinct and shared heat. Crawling onto Joel’s lap, he grabbed the older man’s face and kissed him passionately, moaning openly into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, grinding his cock against Joel’s. “You’re so fucking hot, Joel.”

“J-Javier, please slow down,” Joel gasped. His cock was throbbing beneath the younger man and he was afraid the evening would end sooner than planned. Javier slowed his hips, and chose to kiss all over Joel’s face instead, leaving a peck here and there as Joel caught his breath. “Thank you,” he exhaled, eyes fluttering shut.

Javier smiled and sat up, running his hands over Joel’s strong torso. It was covered by a thin t-shirt, but Javier could see the outline of a strong chest and a soft tummy. He wanted to bury his face in it.

Joel’s bear paws gripped onto Javier’s thighs and squeezed, eyes fluttering open. His cheeks were flushed, but he had a twinkle in his eye that betrayed any doubt either of them may have had. “‘m ready when you are, sweetheart,” Joel smiled, rolling his hips up toward Javier’s.

Javi didn’t need to be told twice. He pushed Joel’s t-shirt up until it was bunched up under his armpits. His hands groped and squeezed at Joel’s pecs as he kissed between them, making his way down to that hairy, soft tummy. “Fuck,” he groaned, kissing and sucking along the smooth skin.

Joel’s hips bucked and his body trembled under Javi’s ministrations, unable to hold back what they were doing to him. “Sweetheart, please,” he grunted, tugging on the collar of the polo Javier was wearing. “‘m not gonna make it if you keep that up,” he chuckled breathlessly.

“Alright,” Javier smirked, leaned over to give him one more deep kiss. It stole the air from Joel’s lungs and ended quicker than he liked. He slowly stood up from the bed and rifled through the bedside table for his lube. “Do me a favor and get naked for me, will ya?” He grinned, throwing a wink Joel’s way.

Joel snorted, but did as he was told, tossing his clothes onto Javier’s bedroom floor. His cock stood proudly between his thick thighs as he watched Javier get undressed as well. Precum dribbled down the length as his cock twitched. This was nothing new for either of them; having sex, being naked in front of one another. But it was also completely different. There were no stakes, no pressures from anyone else. It felt far more vulnerable than it usually did, less technical.

Javi crawled between Joel’s legs and lifted them, exposing the older man’s hole to him. He hummed in thought at the sight and leaned over to kiss Joel languidly. “Would you be opposed to me fucking your brains out, Joel?” Javi grinned, nibbling on his jaw again.

Joel groaned in response and nodded jerkily, digging his fingers into Javier’s sides. “Please,” he grunted.

”Mm, lie back for me, guapo.”

Joel did as he was told and got comfy, feet planted on the mattress and knees spread. The first touch of Javier’s lube-covered fingertips startled him. It really had been some time since another person did this for him. But not that long since he’d done it himself. Javier’s middle finger swirled around the rim of his hole teasingly as he kissed and sucked along Joel’s neck.

”Got hair everywhere, huh?” Javi smirked, pressing his finger inside past the tight ring of muscle. Joel’s answering moan of pleasure made a chill run down Javier’s spine. “Atta boy,” he praised. It didn’t take long for his ring finger to join the middle one and start fucking into him.

”Oh, fuck,” Joel groaned, back arching off the bed. His head was pressed to the pillow, the sweat already starting to trickle down the side. He could feel the tension leaving his body as Javier’s fingers fucked him lewdly, the wet squelch filling the room. 

“Oh, I know,” Javi pouted, his tone saccharine sweet. “Been a long time since someone took care of you, huh?” Joel nodded and bit his lip, eyebrows turned down in pleasure. “But this isn’t what you want, is it?”

Joel grunted in response, the precum from his cock trickling down his stomach, and fingers gripping the sheets so tightly he was afraid he’d rip them.

”No, you want to be fucked, huh? Want a cock so deep inside that you forget your own name, right?” Javier’s mouth was just as filthy as the rest of him and it was making Joel blush all the way down to his chest. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, baby. I’ll take care of you,” he whispered, latching onto Joel’s earlobe and nibbling softly.

Javier’s fingers continued to fuck him for a few more minutes before they were removed, a lewd suck signifying their release. Joel shut his eyes and groaned, turning his head into the pillow. Javier cupped his face and kissed him with so much more emotion than he was used to. He wasn’t sure what he did to be on the receiving end of this Javier but he wasn’t going to question it.

”Breathe for me, baby,” Javi hummed, knee-walking between Joel’s legs. His fingers curled around his cock as he covered it in lube. Joel nodded, eyes half-lidded in pleasure as he watched the younger man.

Joel’s eyes traveled down Javier’s slim torso until they landed on the thick cock between his legs. He was mesmerized by the head appearing and disappearing beneath the foreskin as Javier stroked himself, and it made him shiver.

Javier drizzled some extra lube onto Joel’s rim before rubbing the head of his cock there teasingly. Joel grunted at the feeling, his cock twitching. Javier chuckled darkly, tapping the head of his cock against the tight rim. Joel clenched around nothing, the anticipation starting to kill him.

Joel was so caught up in the moment that he couldn’t even stop it before it happened. His hips bucked and his bent knee jerked so hard he hit Javi’s chin with it. “F-fuck, I’m so sorry–”

Javier was laughing, thankfully, but he rubbed his chin to soothe the mild burn. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Miller,” he winked. Joel groaned and covered his face with his hands in embarrassment. He was a fucking professional porn star and he couldn’t even have normal sex. What was wrong with him?

”Shh,” Javier soothed. “C’mere,” he hummed before slowly taking Joel’s hands away from his face. Joel’s eyes were glued to the center of Javier’s chest, refusing to make eye contact. “Hey,” he smiled softly.

Joel blinked up at him and bit his lip. “‘m sorry, Javier…”

Javier grinned and leaned over, kissing Joel’s lips languidly. They stayed there for a while, Javier holding Joel’s face as he stayed between the older man’s legs. Eventually, Joel’s heart rate evened out and he could breathe steadily again. “I’m okay. Are you?” He asked softly.

Joel nodded, shutting his eyes briefly to take a deep breath. “‘m alright,” he smiled shyly.

“Good,” Javier grinned, slowly pushed inside, and the air left Joel’s lungs. The older man’s toes started to curl and his back arched off the bed. Javier smiled and laced his fingers with Joel’s, pressing them against the bed.

Hovering over him, Javier kissed him sweetly, slowly, letting Joel get used to being filled again. Joel made a weak noise into Javier’s mouth as his legs wrapped around Javier’s thin waist. “Please, move,” he breathed, eyes glossy and face flushed.

Javier nodded, latching his mouth back onto Joel’s, fucking into him slowly. Joel had expected their first time alone to be hot and fast and passionate, but he thinks he prefers this much more. Javier fucked him with so much attention and tenderness that he almost cried trying to remember the last time someone did this for him.

The pace Javier had set was deep and steady, the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin unmistakeable in the quiet room, but if anyone were to walk in on them, they would see something entirely different. “You feel so good, Joel,” Javier panted between kisses.

Joel moaned in response, squeezing Javier’s hands in his own. “So do you,” he breathed. His free hand wrapped around the younger man’s neck. He dug blunt fingernails into Javier’s back, the stretch feeling so foreign but so good that it overwhelmed him.

Javier shivered as the pleasure-pain from Joel’s fingernails shot down his spine and settled at the base. His cock twitched hard inside the older man. “Fuck, Joel,” he groaned, his balls drawing up and slapping loudly against Joel’s ass.

“‘m close, Javi,” Joel panted, face flushed and sweaty, brows furrowed in concentration.

A wide smile crossed Javier’s features. “You called me Javi,” he chuckled, picking up the pace slightly. “You want me to come inside you?”

Joel nodded quickly, the throbbing in his cock flooding all thoughts. “P-please,” he breathed weakly. 

“Only if you come with me, guapo,”  Javier groaned, letting go of Joel’s hands to grip his hips. He picked up the pace, fucking into Joel harder and faster the closer he got. Joel’s body stilled and he moaned out loud when the tip of Javi’s cock brushed against his prostate. “Ooh, did I find it?” Javier smirked. He lifted a knee and planted one foot on the mattress to get a better angle. “C’mon, baby. C’mon.”

Joel’s back arched high off the mattress as Javier continued his brutal pace. He curled his fingers around his own cock and started pumping hard, squeezing around the shaft. 

“Fuck,” Javi moaned, eyes locked on Joel’s big hand. “You’re so fucking hot, Joel. Come for me.”

Joel’s legs trembled on either side of the younger man’s hips before he stilled, coming hard all over his stomach and hand. Javier fucked him through it, his hips following the waves of Joel’s orgasm. It didn’t take long for him after that, his hips slapping against him without rhythm with his release. He came in thick ropes and with a shaky breath.

Joel moaned weakly at the feeling, his heart pounding and fluttering in his chest when Javier kissed him again. Javi kissed with so much passion.

They breathed heavily as they came down from their high, Javier’s forehead pressed to Joel’s. “Mmm,” Javier hummed, a smile on his face. “You’re amazing, Joel.”

“Look who’s talkin’,” Joel grunted, eyes shut and chest heaving. Javier laughed and pecked his cheek before pulling out carefully. They both moaned at the feeling. Javier cleaned them both up gently and pulled Joel down onto his chest, rubbing his bare back comfortingly.

”We should do this again sometime,” he said softly, a grin on his tired face. Joel hummed in response, cuddling close to him and squeezing. 

Before either of them knew it, Joel was passed out, snoring softly into Javier’s chest. Javier snorted and kissed the top of Joel’s head.

”Night, guapo.”

Joel felt… lighter. And sore.

When he opened his eyes, he groaned at how bright it was, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly. Then, once his eyes had adjusted, he noticed the painting of a field at sunset next to the window. He didn’t have that… 

He blinked, the memories from the night before came flooding back and his cock twitched under the sheets. His body felt heavy and he smiled, looking over to the side, but frowned when he saw it was empty. Where was Javier?

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Javier rumbled, voice thick with sleep. He walked into the bedroom with a mug in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was only in a pair of boxer briefs as he made his way over to the window next to the painting. Joel’s eyes were glued to every one of his movements.

“Mornin’,” Joel said softly.

Javier set the mug on the windowsill and opened it, taking a seat next to the mug. He lit up, indulging in his morning routine. “How you feelin’ this morning, guapo?” Javi smirked, breathing out a plume of smoke.

“Sore,” Joel chuckled, rubbing his eyes clear of any remaining sleep. “But… good.”

“Glad to hear it,” Javi hummed, taking a sip of his coffee. “There’s more if you want some,” he said, lifting his mug.

“I’d love some coffee,” he groaned, pulling the sheets off. Javier raised a brow and smirked appreciatively, watching Joel’s bare ass as he looked for his underwear. He shivered as the tight material snapped onto Joel’s smooth skin. 

Joel left the room briefly, and came back with his own steaming cup of coffee. He sat on the corner of the bed closest to Javier and they enjoyed their drinks in comfortable silence.

“So,” Joel started. “What now?”

“Already asking me what we are?” Javier chuckled teasingly. Joel gave him a look, both hands gripping the mug. “Okay, alright. Do we have to put a label on it yet?”

“Don’t s’pose we do, no…” Joel mumbled, taking another sip. 

“But you’d like to.”

Joel shrugged. “No, it’s alright, I just… I’ve, uh,” he gulped. “I’ve sorta had a thing for you for a couple’a years now. Jus’... Didn’t exactly picture this happenin’.”

Javier smiled, watching the journey on Joel’s face. “Is that right?”

Joel just nodded, looking down onto the carpeted floor, his toes digging in.

“You’re adorable,” Javier chuckled, setting his mug down and tossing the remaining part of his cigarette into it. He took Joel’s mug from his hand and set it down next to his own. 

“I dunno about that, I–”

“Shut up, Joel,” Javier whispered, leaning over to kiss him deeply. Joel melted, kissing back and pulling Javier to sit on his lap. Javier dug his fingers into Joel’s messy, post-sex curls and tugged a little, making the older man groan into his mouth.

“Jav,” Joel breathed between kisses.

“Mmm, new nickname,” Javier grinned, kissing and nibbling along Joel’s jaw. The hair scattered there tasted like sweat and it made Javi shiver. 

“Javi.”

Javier pulled away, a little out of breath, and eyes wild with determination. “I like you, Joel. A lot,” he paused, arms resting on Joel’s broad shoulders. “We can start here,” he hummed, kissing Joel’s cheek and slowly making his way down to his neck. “Maybe try a few things,” he kissed Joel's chest and flicked his tongue over a nipple. He pushed the older man onto his back, slowly sliding down Joel’s body. “And just see where it goes from there. Yeah?”

Joel exhaled a heavy sigh, his cock twitching with interest the lower Javier went. He made his way to Joel’s stomach and sucked a mark there. Joel watched, big hands tangled through Javier’s thick locks. “Yeah,” he sighed, the cool morning air hitting his heated cock once it was exposed again. Javier tossed his underwear to the floor and kissed along his inner thighs.

“Good,” Javier hummed, eyes locked on Joel’s as that sinful mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, that mustache framing the girth perfectly.

Joel moaned, shutting his eyes as his back arched off the bed.

[ihaveitprinteddout]

I know I already spammed your wattpad with my comments on this amazing fic (@/hopelessangelxx) but I have to reblog it on here bc I cannot express how much I absolutely ADORE this story. Although there is definitely some emotional stuff in it that some may consider 'angst', it's mostly Javi's vulnerability and insecurities being so beautifully expressed in this story that can really make you feel an ache in your chest. Cielito is perfect for Javi and although they love to have hella sex (which I'm definitely not mad about), there is also such a deep love and devotion that they share between them makes you want to completely melt bc THIS IS WHAT JAVI DESERVES!!! imma reread on this platform now but I just had to rave about this amazing story again bc it truly stole my heart and it's undoubtedly one of the most beautiful fics I've ever read 😭💔

Learning to Live Masterlist

| Main Masterlist | Crossposted on AO3 |

summery: While grocery shopping, you happen across a handsome man confused by some produce. Coming to his aid leads to an invitation for drinks, and next thing you know, you’re falling head over heels for Javier Peña—a good man who has trouble believing he is.

Sparks fly when you meet and ignite an insatiable need that you both try to fight for the sake of taking things slow; Javi determined to do things right by you. The problem is, the two of you only have so much self-control.

Post-Colombia and Narcos S3, Story Starts in June 1998.

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

warnings: Smut (18+!! in almost every chapter), Soft Javier Peña (it’s still Javi, so when he fucks, he fucks), no y/n, most chapters alternating pov, meet-cute, first dates, language, fluff, Javi is tired and trying his best, feelings, sexual tension, resolved sexual tension, Javier being a consent king, Javier being really into getting his partner off, Javier getting the love and happiness he deserves, whirlwind romance, romantic comedy. each part will have its own warnings.

Updated: January 30, 2024

Smut marked with **

Main Story:

Part 1: You Met in a Grocery Store**

Part 2: Dinner at His Favorite Restaurant

Part 3: His Past Haunts Him**

Part 4: Finally****

Part 5: Holding You in His Arms**

Part 6: The Night Has to End**

Part 7: An Interlude: A Relaxing Morning**

Part 8: Going to the Farmers Market**

Part 9: Let’s Go to the Mall**

Part 10: He Missed You**

Part 11: I’ve Got You**

Part 12: An Interlude: Waking Up Before Him**

Part 13: To the Ranch**

Part 14: (Almost) Naked in the Hayloft**

Part 15: Memory**

Part 16: He Loves You**

Part 17: Home is Whenever He's With You**

Part 18: The Domesticity**

Part 19: He's So Pretty**

Part 20: La Familia de Él Te Adora (His Family Adores You)**

Part 21: He's Taking You to Paradise (Metaphorically)**

Part 22: Día de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead)**

Part 23: Colombia (Part One)**

Part 24: Colombia (Part Two)**

Part 25: Welcome to Miami**

Part 26: Yes**

Part 27: A Steamy Detour**

Part 28: Fun in the Sun**

Part 29: Babysitting, Birthdays, and a Brawl** (New Jan 30th)

Part 30

Part 31

Part 32

Part 33

Part 34

Epilogue

My outline contains 20 parts + an epilogue. There’s a possibility the chapter count may increase to keep them reasonable lengths. The current number is an estimate for what’s remaining.

One Shots:

(In chronological order)

Anything - Period Sex**

Interruption**

Cows in the Kitchen

Needy**

Massage**

Birthday**

Concerned**

Holiday Card

Christmas Sweater

All I Want For Christmas Is You**

Cow Scare

Priorities**

His Worm Wife

Baby Names

Anniversary**

Puppy Dog Eyes

Bedtime Story

Extras:

Learning to Live Spotify Playlist

(If you have any song suggestions let me know!)

Side Characters Location Layouts

Javier Peña NSFW Alphabet

Moodboard by @muffinengineer86

Whatta Man Music Video by @enjoyourlattebitch

Javier & Cielito Commissioned Art by @miranhas-art

Dancing in the Kitchen by @bunnelbie

Drink Inspired by Cielito created by @iamskyereads

Ch. 15 Scene Gifs by @pedropascalsx

Ch. 1 Fanart Javi w/tomato by @cremarcvds

Asks:

Timeline Chapters 1-23

Headcanons

Javi’s Horrible Sex Experiences HCs

Domestic Javi Headcanons

Why Javier is NOT a womanizer

Cielito’s Nursing Background

Javier’s First Late Night Confession

Are They Religious?

Is Javier Turned on by Cielito’s Work Clothes?

Javier’s Preference for Body Hair

Does Cielito ever feel insecure?

AU: Bi!Cielito Coming Out Headcanon

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, Epilogue

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 8.4k Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, domestic fluff, sass, married flirting, pregnancy, childbirth Summary: Thanksgiving time has come again, but the Peñas are in for more than just a nice meal this year. Notes: It has been such an amazing journey following these two through their love story! We hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have 🧡🧡

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

There is nothing unusal at all about the dog being the first one to spot the car, but you're still slightly startled by the commotion when the hound in the living room starts howling to sound the alarm. After that it's the two kids who come scrambling out of their room and bounding down the stairs screaming "Daddy's home!" as if he had been gone more than just a few hours.

The whole brigade has sounded the alarm, and you can't help but grin.

Hearing the dog barking and the kids scrambling around in the house before he ever even hits the door, Javi is chuckling as he grabs the deli bag and his bag filled with papers he will need to read sometime over the holiday break. “Shit.” He hisses, turning back to the car to grab the drink carrier, knowing you would be disappointed if you didn’t get your root beer.

"Boys, you have to let your Dad into the house!" You call, coming out from the kitchen with a dishrag in hand. You had been chopping enough onions to sink a ship and washing the smell off your hands was extremely necessary.

“It’s okay!” Javi calls out, although it’s a juggling act to keep the drinks from spilling as the two exuberant kids launch themselves at him.

"You're going to fall over, babe." It is okay, though, and you're both laughing even as you reach forward over two young boys, one ambling basset hound, and a seven-month pregnant belly to grab multiple bags from his hands. "How was class?"

Javi snorts. “Half the class didn’t show up.” He chuckles. “I don’t blame them, I wouldn’t show up either.” He admits, knowing he had wished he was home with you and the boys rather than sitting in his lecture hall. “‘Professor Peña, whhhhyyyy do we have to do reading over the break?’” he pitches his voice up and imitates one of his students. “I really don’t give a shit if they read it or not, but they annoyed me so I assigned it.”

“Your reading list always makes for interesting dinner conversations, I’m sure.” There’s a grin on your face when he leans over to kiss you then head to switch gears immediately to catch your younger son as he launches himself into daddy’s arms. “It’s Steve’s book isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.” He flashes you a grin before he turns his attention back to his youngest child. “Were you good for mama today?” He asks, knowing that he is the mirror copy of a young Javier. So the answer is probably no.

“Yeah!” Your youngest affirms his innocence wholeheartedly, but you roll your eyes playfully.

“Come on boys, Daddy brought home lunch for everybody so let’s wash up.” It earns Javi another grateful kiss from you, since tuna sandwiches from the shop over by UGA campus are your new pregnancy craving. A tuna sandwich on their toasted oat bread, loaded with veggies and American cheese, with an ice cold root beer. He’s brought you home that same lunch every day for a week, and today he brought lunch for him and the boys too.

After the capture of the Rodriguez brothers and the take down of the entire Cali Cartel, Javier had been told his services were no longer needed in the DEA. Which was fine with him because he was going to tell them to go fuck themselves. He had thought about going back to Laredo, and you did for a month or so, but then a teaching position for criminal justice and political science became available at a respectable college and he took it. It only took two year for the University of Georgia to recruit him for their staff.

The blue house on the edge of campus with its white-trim windows and fenced-in yard has been your home ever since he took the job. The boys have started their lives here despite your oldest being born just before you left Colombia, and when they begged for a puppy last year it had been a beautiful basset puppy waiting for them under the tree on Christmas morning that really tied the bow on this being home.

“How are you and my baby girl doing?” After setting Oscar down to run after his brother, Javier pulls you by the waist to him, his hand moving to rub your stomach lovingly. He adores when you are pregnant and it’s especially sweet since you decided this was the last baby, and a little girl.

"We are not big fans of onions today." You grimace, knowing that it could be worse but that it feels like it's the only thing you've done all morning since getting the boys settled in their playroom. "But Marco came up wtih a new name he wanted to add to the list." The notepad on the refrigerator is where you keep the ongoing list of baby name ideas, and every once in a while the boys or another family member will contribute an idea as well. It was Chucho who ended up naming Oscar, and your brothers had pitched the name Marco originally. Names have become something of a family effort.

“Oh?” Javi hums, impressed by his excitement for the little sister due in February. “What did he come up with?”

The smirk on your face says you know Javi won't be as excited for long, considering his son's current favorite movie. "He would like to name his baby sister Donkey."

“That fucking movie” Javi closes his eyes and sighs, hating the fact he had taken Marco to see Shrek. Even though he loves it better than any other movie in the world. “Please tell me you didn’t write it down?”

"Oh no, I didn't." Your grin turns shit-eating as you point to the refrigerator where Marco's large, shaky handwriting clearly spells out the word and takes up four times as much room as any other name. "He asked to write it himself."

“Well I hate to burst his bubble…” Javi snorts at the slanted handwriting and the misspelled Donky written on the board. “We will not be naming our baby girl that.”

"Of course not." And that is where your expression turns fond again, shaking your head at your oldest baby but proud of him for wanting to contribute to a big family decision. "But I love that he's thinking about it."

“God.” He snorts, grinning at the antics of his children, but like you, he’s proud of them. “So no onions today, huh? Made you gassy?”

"The smell made me sick first thing," you admit. After washing your hands with the kids, the four of you can sit down at the table to have your lunch. "But I powered through. I don't even want to think about the chaos tomorrow would be if I couldn't make stuffing because of an onion aversion."

“You should have let me handle it when I got home.” He frowns at you, huffing slightly. “I know I can’t cook like you, but I can follow directions passably well.”

"I know you can, babe." The smell of tuna is like a balm over your senses when you unwrap your sandwich and you sigh happily. "But you have to go to the airport tonight to pick up our parents, remember?"

“I can do both.” He knows you want to have the perfect holiday, it’s just how you are. Even the few times you had thrown dinner parties in Colombia, you had wanted everything to be just so. Of course you want a family holiday to be perfect. “Let me help you. I know you’ve got to be tired.”

"I've got a plan." Having the biggest house out of your siblings after everyone had settled down and being the first one with kids has meant that the Peña residence in Athens, Georgia is now family holiday headquarters. While you love it, it is also a lot of work, so you've been working on creating a system. "Once everybody gets here this afternoon there will be plenty of childcare and Michael's wife insisted they're getting pizza and salad for everybody for dinner tonight. Paper plates and plastic cups so we don't make more work for ourselves. At that point there will be lots of helping hands and the work will go a lot faster."

“Beer is in the back of the car.” He had picked that up on the way to the deli you love. Thanksgiving wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without some Budweiser while watching the football game. Although he makes sure everything is done and you are sitting beside him before he sits down.

"Perfect. Thank you, cariño." Having a partner for a husband feels like it sets you apart from the other faculty wives that you end up spending time with, but not in ways that you're upset about. While the other ladies are rightfully bitching about how their husbands don't help out around the house or don't do their part with the kids, you tend to just keep your mouth shut. Javier is always there to support you and share the workload, helping to raise the boys as their other parent and not as a third, older child you constantly have to prod at. Right now is a prime example of it, as he gets the boys set up with their shared sandwich so that you can dig in to your lunch right away.

Javi moves to pour the kids juice into their cups. Marco has a Shrek cup and Oscar with his favorite Barney cup and then he cracks open a ginger ale for himself. The days of starting to drink right after coming home are long past him and he doesn’t miss it as much as he might have expected.

"So, Papa's flight lands at 3:00 this afternoon and Grammy's lands at 3:15." You managed to work the flight times out for both of your parents to come in at the best possible time. "Joey and his wife want to rent a car so they'll get down here on their own after they land, and Michael decided to road trip from Chattanooga so they'll probably be in last even though they're aiming for the same time as everyone else." Coordinating the families does take a little work as they grow, but it's work that you're all willing to put in. Especially so all the kids can spend time with their cousins a few times every year and really get to know each other.

“Okay.” He nods and smirks. “I would have driven to Atlanta to pick them up, but I’m happy as hell I don’t have to.” Both his father and your mom opted to fly into the smaller, local airports so they can be with their grandchildren faster.

"It worked out, thank god." The boys are currently engrossed in a conversation about something Saturday-morning-cartoon related that you can't quite catch, so with the first few bites of your sandwich you enjoy the relative peace. They'll be up early tomorrow to see every second of the Macy's parade so any peace you get today is wonderful. "And I am not grappling with your dad's addiction to pecan pie this year. I ordered one from the bakery along with the apple. Homemade pie crust is officially my nemesis."

Javi chuckles and nods. “Good choice” He teases. “Do I need to go brave the stores for anything else?”

"At this point, if we don't have it, it's not ending up on the Thanksgiving table." And that's the final word as far as you're concerned. "The last thing is picking up the pies, and my sisters-in-law already offered to make that trip tonight for us." You smirk, knowing your brothers' soulmates fairly well at this point. It's only been a few years but you're a tight knit family. "If they're willing to do the last errand, I'm not going to begrudge them getting out of the noisy house for a half hour later on."

“Damnit, she figured out why I always make the last run.” Javi grumbles, but he winks at you playfully. He actually enjoys when the house is in chaos and noisy. Far different from his own solitude for so many years. He’s less in his own head these days.

"Big time." You grin at him, stifling your laughter by having another bite of lunch. "You're the one who wanted a big house, babe. The price we pay is being the holiday house."

"I don't mind it." He had insisted the kids all be able to have their own rooms and he had wanted you to have a dedicated office as well as him. That required a big house.

As it does so often with him now, your smile softens at the edges. "I don't either. And it's going to be even nicer not having to bundle three kids into the car or onto a plane a couple of times a year to see family."

"Well, we had already agreed that the kids having their holidays at home was the most important thing." He reminds you. "Luckily our parents agreed and are willing to come to us."

"Marco gave us that privilege," you remind him, glancing over at your boys. "My mother would have flown to Timbuktu to see her first grandbaby."

"That's true." Your mother had been upset when you hadn't wanted her to come to Colombia for the last month of your pregnancy and the birth. She had flown to Texas to meet him as soon as the three of you had returned to the States.

“And honestly I’m glad that we’re close enough for your dad to get here without much trouble.” Chucho is still pretty spry for his age but that doesn’t mean you aren’t grateful for the quick flights between Laredo and Athens.

"I think dad enjoys flirting with the flight attendants." Javi jokes, shooting you a smirk.

“Probably,” you agree, smirking even though you shake your head. Chucho isn’t the kind of guy who would make trouble, so it’s harmless as long as the attendants don’t mind. “Gives the waitresses at his bar a break.”

"He's asked about your mother a lot." He waggles his brows suggestively. "We might have to put bells on our parents at night. Make sure they stay in their rooms."

“Nothing could be weirder.” The look of absolute confusion and discomfort in your face is immediate. “Our family tree does not need to tangle that way.”

He laughs at the abject horror in your eyes and reaches over to squeeze your knee under the table. "I'm teasing, sweetheart." He promises. "Pop asks about your mom, but only in a friendly kind of way." He can't be offended at your reaction, he would have the same kind of instinct if he heard something like that.

“Oh thank god.” You huff, trying to recompose yourself. “I know we live in the south. But we don’t need to be a stereotype.”

He huffs again, amused as you continue to shake your head. "Pop has started seeing another widow, someone from that support group you turned him on to." He had never really thought about his dad needing to talk to other widowers who had lost their soulmates, but you had seen it. Another reason he loves how you have folded into his life so perfectly. You softened his rough edges and noticed the unspoken needs of both of the Peña men.

“Oh good!” That seems to wipe the other thought clean from your mind. “I mean I didn’t show him those groups thinking he’d start dating, just that having some friends who went through what he did would be good for him.”

"Mama wouldn't have wanted him to be alone for the rest of his life." That he knows, having discussed it with her when it had become clear she wasn't beating her cancer. She had known that Javier could and would hold a grudge if he had thought it was disrespectful to her memory. So she had made her wishes clear to her only son. "It is good for him. He said he feels like a kid again."

“I wish we had known before.” Having devoted half your sandwich already, you reach for your soda. “I would’ve have invited her, too. Though in sure she has her own family to see.”

"She is visiting her grandchildren." He nods. "Although pop said he might ask us to come out to Texas this summer to meet her?"

“Absolutely.” That sounds just like your father-in-law. Chucho plans for the long term much better than short term in all areas of his life. “By then our little girl should be okay to travel a bit.”

Javi grins. "I think that was his plan. Show off his newest grandbaby."

“Donkey!” Marco supplies cheerily, having heard his mother say the word girl.

Javi rolls his eyes and sighs heavily while you giggle. "I'm glad you think this is funny." He huffs quietly.

“I have final veto naming rights on anything that comes out of my body,” you remind him with a smug grin. “Of course I think it’s funny.”

"Thank God for that." He rolls his eyes again and gets up when he sees your drink is finished to get you a glass of water.

“You won’t be saying that if I name her something ridiculous in a fit of sleepless silliness.”

"I don't think you want to give our daughter a name that will embarrass her." He points out and licks his lips before voicing something that he's been thinking about since finding out that that baby is a girl. "Is it strange or inappropriate that I was thinking about Helena for a middle name?" He asks softly, watching you to gauge your reaction.

“Oh.” That makes you pause, but when he puts the glass of water down in front of you, you reach for his hand rather than the glass. “I—I actually think that’s so nice,” you admit with tears in your eyes. Though your contact with Helena has waned slightly in the years since she moved to America, you still send each other letters a few times a year to keep up. “Someone we both love dearly…I think that’s a very sweet gesture.”

“I—” he flounders slightly. “She is the reason we found each other.” He murmurs. “The reason we have this life, our children.”

"She is." He is completely correct, and you squeeze his hand tightly for just a brief moment. Now that he's suggested it, there is no other possibility in your mind. "Whatever we pick, it has to go with Helena."

Javi sighs softly, smiling at you before he leans down and presses his lips to yours. “I wasn’t sure how you would like the idea.” He admits. After all, both of you had slept with her, so it could have been a horrible idea in your mind.

"I don't think it's a conventional decision, but we aren't very conventional people." Looking around the table, though, and then back up at him, you shrug. "At least, we didn't used to be."

He chuckles at that and shoots you a grin. “We have slipped into domesticity with surprising ease, haven’t we?” He asks you.

"We really have," you agree, leaning up to kiss him again when the phone on the wall rings.

"You stay there." Javi pulls back and points at you, knowing you would try to heft your pregnant belly out of the chair to rush over to the phone. "I’ll get it." He steps over to the phone and picks it up, reminding himself that he needs to get another cordless phone set so you can just carry one around. It would make it easier and the last one had been broken by the movers. "Peña residence." He answers.

“Hey mijo!” Chucho’s voice is cheery through the cracking connection of the cellphone that Javier had bought him to have while he traveled. “I just boarded and that gorgeous wife of yours said to call before I left Texas.”

“Hey pop.” He twists his body around and winks at you. “Yeah, she worries about you.” He tells his father while watching you. “Didn’t want you to get lost in the airport and miss Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Not a chance.” Chucho chuckles at that. “Tell my grandsons I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“They will be looking forward to it.” He promises and then hangs up the phone after Chucho says goodbye.

“Is Papa here?” Oscar asks hopefully, having heard his father refer to Pop and knowing that holidays mean his favorite family member in the whole world will be coming to play Spacemen with him.

“He will be in just a few hours.” Javi lifts a brow. “If you take a nap, he will be here as soon as you wake up and you will have allllllll the energy to play.” He’s not above making a nap sound like a good thing. Not if it lets you get a nap while he’s gone to pick up the parents.

"All done!" Your youngest announces with an enormous amount of ceremony, pushing away his plate – which actually is empty – and throwing up his hands as it was proof of having finished his lunch.

“Good job, buddy.” Fatherhood has taught Javier a patience he never knew he could have, and he’s been rewarded for it. His boys are already far better than he ever was and he knows they will only become better men than he ever could claim to be.

Getting the boys down for a nap is one of Javier’s best Dad chores, but when he comes back down twenty-five minutes later with the baby monitor in hand you both breathe a sigh of relief. “They missed you this morning,” you tell him, smiling softly over the kitchen clean up. “So did I.”

He hums, knowing that he had missed them too. “Too bad I can’t just lecture from my office.” He shrugs, moving over to where you are rinsing the glasses and softly shooing you out of the way. “Go sit sweetheart.” He huffs. “I know your back is hurting.”

"I won't fight you on that." Your back was a bit of an issue with your second pregnancy so you know Javi is being extra watchful this time around. The balance is good, though. Otherwise you would just go-go-go as much as possible.

“I know you didn’t get any writing done between the kids being out of school and prepping for tomorrow.” He talks as he continues the chore and loads the dishwasher beside the sink. “But how’s the chapter coming along?”

“Honestly I’m a little blocked,” you admit, leaning back in your chair and sighing at the slight relief on your back and belly. “I’m hoping that focusing on family this weekend shakes some words loose.”

“They will come.” He knows that. You are too good of an author for words to fail you. “Anything else you need to prep tonight?” He asks.

“I can wait until more people get here and hand out prep jobs. We like sitting around the table and bitching while we work.” It’s practically a family pastime, if you’re honest. Which is why it’s so fun. “There’s a few things to do but we’ll manage okay.”

“Sooooo.” He closes the door to the dishwasher and stands straight, turning around while he wipes his hands in a dishrag. “What about a nap for mama?”

"Could." You agree, folding your hands under your belly to support the bump. "But Mama missed Daddy and wants to actually see him a little."

He smirks and pushes off the counter to move over and lean down for a kiss. “How about I lay down with you until I need to leave for the airport?” He offers. “I’ll even rub your back.”

"You tryin’ to get me into bed, Peña?" You raise one eyebrow at him and smirk, pointing to your belly. "That's what got us this in the first place."

He smirks again. “Oh I know.” He grunts. “I was there for the whole thing.” You are absolutely irresistible to him when you are pregnant, even more than normal. He loves you carrying his babies. Although, right now he’s simply trying to get you to rest. He worries about you taking on too much this late in the pregnancy.

"Okay, okay." It's not difficult to see the worry in this eyes, and you put up one hand in defeat. "Help me up, love? We can snuggle in bed until it's time for you to leave."

“Okay.” You gave in far too easily, telling him that you are more exhausted than he imagined.

“I’m okay.” At the top of the stairs he is practically cradling you and you kiss his cheek in reassurance. “It’s just third trimester, that’s all.”

“I’m going to worry.” He’s good at that, but the worry over his family is far more meaningful than worrying about sicarios and drug dealers

“I know.” And just the fact of it brings a soft smile to your lips. “I love you, too.”

******

“You look amazing.” Your mother beams at you, eager to see her glowing daughter happy in your last months of pregnancy. “You’re carrying low, I’m so surprised it was a little girl on the ultrasound.” She teases. “What are you going to do if she was hiding a little thingy?” She works as she asks, filling the little tartlets that will be the appetizers first thing.

“We’ll be just as happy to have another boy if it turns out that way.” You promise your mother. While she fills the ham and cheese tarts for the appetizer table, you’re making the stuffing for the mushroom caps, and on your other side your oldest brother is making his jalapeño popper dip.

“Oh I know you will.” She assures you. “Javier is a wonderful father and you make me so proud.” Her voice cracks up a little, looking over into the living room where Chucho is keeping the boys entertained and Javier is diligently cleaning up when one of the boys had broken the rule of ‘no drinks in the living room’ and spilled it on the carpet in his excitement to see his family. “You have an amazing little family.”

“It won’t be so little pretty soon.” Michael’s soulmate, your sister-in-law Maria, reminds the table happily. Being in her first trimester with their first baby, she is sharing in the joy of pregnancy very happily. “Five counts as a big family, I think.”

“Not as big as some, but nowadays some couples are only have one child.” Your mother tuts, as if only having one child is an offense.

"Mom..." You shoot her a warning glance, reminding her silently that Javi is an only child. "All we care about is the kids being healthy and happy. One or two or three... it doesn't matter."

She grimaces and glances towards the living room, remembering that detail. She knows from talking to Chucho, they had wanted a big family. “You are right.” She quickly agrees. “Healthy.”

"Especially since this is the last one." Both of your families know that you're planning on a more permanent form of birth control for your family now. It didn't seem kind or reasonable to let your parents keep wondering if more and more grandkids would keep coming. "The only things I'm birthing after this little girl are books."

“How is your next book coming?” Her eyes widen with anticipation. “When I tell you, the book club is salivating over your last one, I mean they have extended the read.”

"I'm pretty sure your book club are my advanced sales every time," you laugh, grateful to your mother for all of her support in keeping your dreams alive and being just as proud of you as she possibly could be. Your family have really been your biggest cheerleaders. "This one is coming on a little more slowly."

"Pregnancy brain?" Your sister-in-law only half jokes. She's already experiencing some of that for herself.

"Absolutely." More laughter is shared at the table. "Pregnancy brain and being tired all the time."

Chucho ignores your protest and makes it a game, the boys competing for who can make mama the most comfortable.

"I was trying to prevent a fuss." Even though you direct the comment at your husband it seems to fall on deaf ears as everyone moves around again, and your other brother takes over making your mushroom recipe so you can go and lay down. Chucho and the boys have moved the pillows around the couch for you and while Marco is ready to give Mama and Baby Sis cuddles, Oscar has offered up his favorite teddy for your comfort as well. It's moments like those -- the most meaningful gestures from your young kids -- that tell you unquestionably that you and Javier are doing a good job. At their ages your boys have gotten past most struggles with sharing and have instead become compassionate kids who want everyone around them to be happy.

Javi grins as he brings you a Shirley Temple in a cup with a lid and straw. “You think a fuss wasn’t going to be made over you this weekend?” He huffs in amusement.

"I'm not the only pregnant woman in the house," you point out, gesturing toward your sister-in-law who is still sitting at the table.

“But I’m not as pregnant as you are.” She snorts, smirking when you huff. “You can cater to me when I’m about to pop, okay?”

"Thiry-two weeks still has a little way to go," you argue, though you sigh measurably when one of the couch throw pillows hits your back just right. It really is hell on the body to be pregnant, that's for damn sure.

“I hoping for a Christmas baby.” Your mother admits and Javi snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t put that on our baby girl.” He huffs playfully. “She would hate her birthday falling on a holiday where her brothers get gifts too.”

“Healthy and happy.” Michael recites your mantra for you, since you’re a little still trying to get comfortable. “But yeah, Ma. Don’t wish a Christmas birth on your grandkid. That’s hard for anybody.”

Your mother sighs softly and shrugs. “You’re right. I was just thinking about how wonderful the birthday pictures would be.” She admits with a laugh.

“What if we made a flower wreath for her, Mom?” You offer, setting it as nondenominational but evoking that beautiful celebration that she imagines. “An oval one big enough to lay her in for pictures?”

“That would be lovely!” Her eyes light up at the possibility. “She would look so beautiful.” The baby isn’t bore, but she already knows she will be the prettiest baby. “I loved your baby pictures.”

"And you'll love your granddaughter's too." Even through another wince, you have no problem promising your mother that. She has loved every picture of each of her grandkids and you know the next will be no exception.

Javi doesn’t notice this next pain since he’s walking back into the kitchen, but Chucho does. Glancing at you and then at his watch discreetly. “Boys, I think it’s time for bed.” He announces after a moment. “Do you want to say goodnight to everyone?”

Marco and Oscar go around giving good night hugs and kisses to everyone individually before Chucho volunteers to bring them upstairs and go through their nighttime routine with them. He always brings a new book of kids stories with him whenever he visits and this is no exception, so doubtless he'll read them a brand new bedtime story tonight as well.

Javi fixes everyone else drinks, another Shirley Temple for your sister-in-law and wine for Michael and your mother. He cracks open a beer for himself, but he doesn’t take a drink yet, waiting for his pop to come back downstairs.

When Chucho does finally reappear in the living room, he wipes his hands off in a show of a job well done. "They needed two stories, but they're out now," he tells you and Javi happily.

“That’s good.” Javi hands his father a beer and motions him into the living room. “Go keep your favorite daughter company.” He tells him. “I’ll help finish up the food.”

"I can make a little room," you offer, starting to shift on the couch.

“No, you stay put.” Chucho insists, taking the recliner next to the couch where Javi would normally sit and watch the news. “You need some rest.”

"I was fine all day." A fact which frustrates you to no end. Only starting to feel exhausted and a little unwell after your nap is a nuisance. "This is just a pain in the ass."

You wince again and Chucho hums, glancing down at his watch again. “Each time is different.” He reminds you. “You were so sick with Oscar the first few weeks.”

"This is Marco's fault," you joke, not meaning a word of it. "My first pregnancy was easy right until the end and it made me think more would be the exact same way."

He chuckles as he sets his beer down. “You were floating on air when you were in Colombia. Even with the stress Javi was under.”

"It was our honeymoon phase." As patently absurd as that might sound to anyone else, it's true. You and Javi were as blissful in your actual relationship at that time as any other pair of soulmates could hope to be.

“He has really changed with you in his life.” Chucho admits. “I used to worry about that phone call, you know the one I mean. Knowing how easily Javi would follow someone to hell to do the right thing - in his mind - it was hard to let him live his life.” He smiles. “When you came back to him, he was determined to do things right. To be the best man he could and I think he’s done it. Not that he was ever bad but his rough edges have been smoothed out by you.”

"We did that for each other, really." Reaching over, you set your hand on Chucho's and give his a gentle squeeze. "I needed him to soften and bolster me just as much as he needed me."

He turns his hand and his smile widens when your little grunt of pain comes again. Almost silent if he wasn’t looking for it. “And soon, your family will be complete.” He murmurs.

"Just a few more weeks." Your other hand soothes over your belly, urging this to just go away. If it's the baby being active, you want her to calm down. If its Braxton Hicks contractions, you're just going to have to wait until they pass. Either way you just want to get past it.

“More like a few hours, mija” He chuckles. “You are in labor.”

"It's probably just Braxton Hicks." Saying it out loud, the thought in your head, makes you firm on the point. The best you can do is just shake your head and press on. You've had two babies, already. You would surely know if you were really in labor.

“Pains are about twelve minutes apart.” He tells you, leaning back and smirking and looking very much like his only son.

"Pops." You groan, throwing him a pout. "You've been timing me?"

He snorts. “That’s your gripe right now?” He shakes his head. “You’re perfect for my son. I will say it again.”

"It's just Braxton Hicks. I'm not going to the hospital." The warning in your voice ends up making it rise and three heads whir in your direction.

“You don’t have to go yet.” He promises, reaching out and patting your hand gently.

"Hospital?" Your mother looks up, finding Javi's eyes with worry.

Javi glances over at you and knows what you’ve been trying to deny. “She’s in labor. Has been for a few hours.” He trusts you to know your body, even if you are denying it right now. You might not want to believe it, but you wouldn’t put your baby in any risk.

It’s like hearing it from your husband cracks the dam, and the near-instant spring of tears to your eyes makes your voice waver too. “I can’t be in labor!” You sniffle, dropping your head back on the couch. “It’s Thanksgiving!”

Javi stifles a chuckle and moves over to you from the kitchen, kneeling down beside you and cupping your cheek. “It just means we will have to be extra Thankful this year, sweetheart.”

“But what if she doesn’t like pumpkin pie?” Is, probably, the silliest worry and most ridiculous sentence to ever come out of your mouth, but it’s clear that the extra emotions and hormones and worries flooding through you are in control of your thoughts at the moment.

Everyone starts to chuckle and Javi grins at you. “There’s always pecan pie.” He reminds you, kissing your hand.

“I know how stupid I sound,” you huff, laughing along with them in spite of yourself, and look back at Javi with concern. “She’s early,” you point out, concern lining your eyes. Marco Was born four days after your due date and your labor with Oscar started in the wee hours of the morning on your due date. Early is a new concept for you.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.” Even though that worry is one he shares, right now his job is to keep you calm. “Why don’t we go out to the hospital and make sure?”

“I haven’t even packed my hospital bag yet.” He’s right. You know he is. That especially if the baby is going to come early, you should be at the hospital and not take any chances. But you just haven’t gotten yourself ready yet. “I guess it doesn’t matter now?”

“Tell me what you want.” Your mother is abandoning the food and immediately jumping to her feet. “I’ll go pack you a bag.”

You describe the place in your closet that you keep your most comfortable clothes and are specific about the ones you want packed, also asking her to add your slippers and a few hygiene items to your yoga bag.

The onesie you’ll bring your baby girl home in is the same one her brothers were brought home in too, and having goes to get that from the laundry room once you’re on your feet. “Honey?” You stop him in his tracks, but a smile is peaking through your nerves. “Don’t forget to grab the list from the fridge.”

“I won’t forget.” He doesn’t remind you that he’s done this three times now, but he knows you are starting to panic slightly. “I’ll double check it.

“Thank you.” With a heavy sigh and a hiss of pain, you look around at your brother, sisters-in-law, and your father-in-law and half-laugh. “I guess she just really wants to meet everyone.”

“I’ll stay here with the boys.” Chucho tells you, wanting you to feel good about having to leave tonight.

“And we’ll come back first thing in the morning to keep Chucho and the boys company.” Joey promises. With his own soulmate pregnant they had booked a hotel room this year, but nothing will stop them from being on board to keep their nephews busy while Mama welcomes the newest member of the family. “In fact…” He glances at Michael, who nods. “Mickey and I are going to cook dinner. Everything we planned on and have prepped. So tomorrow when the baby’s here we can bring you Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Sounds like we’ve got everything planned.” Chucho chuckles as Javi starts cursing from upstairs. “Let me go help him with your list, mija.”

“Of course.” It wouldn’t do any good to remind them that you can still waddle upstairs — no one in this house would ever let you.

He disappears upstairs and everyone starts to move, getting things together and murmuring about what you might need at the hospital.

It's an hour before Javi is pulling the car up to the emergency room door, and by this point you're past denying that you're in labor. Your mother opted to drive her rental car behind the two of you to be with you in case a second pair of hands is needed, and you're climbing out of the car with Javi's help when she pops up on the sidewalk next to you.

“Let me get the bags.” She insists. “You get her inside, Javier.” He barely resists rolling his eyes and smirks at you slightly. “Sure thing.”

"Inherited trait." You hum under your breath, knowing that both your boys are stubborn as well.

“Don’t I know it.” He huffs, as if he’s not just as stubborn as you, maybe more so. Love and marriage, having children has taught you both to compromise a little more than you would normally, but the only place Javier will never compromise is yours and the boys’ safety and welfare. “I’ve got you.” He holds tight when another contraction hits you and you have to stop walking to concentrate on breathing.

"I can check you in." The nurse at the desk waves to Javier to get his attention.

He cuts his eyes up, his expression not exactly relieved. “Maybe after my wife finishes her contraction.” He snorts.

She smiles, polite and professional, but already has one hand on the phone to call up to Labor and Delivery as soon as she has a patient name. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Only when you sigh softly, the signal that the pain has passed, does Javier even attempt to urge you forward. “Come on sweetheart.” He chuckles. “The sooner we get to a desk, the sooner you get to ride in the wheelchair.”

“Yes please.” It will be a relief to be whisked around the hospital in a wheelchair instead of hobbling around trying to balance between contractions, and you give Javi’s hand a grateful squeeze before letting go to pull your ID and insurance card out of your purse. The nurse at the counter is sweet enough but you’re rather task oriented at the moment.

“I’ll fill out the paperwork.” Javi tells you, taking the clipboard when it’s offered. “You sit down, sweetheart.” He looks up at the nurse. “She’s six and half weeks early right now.”

“I’ll tell the L&D nurse.” Though the desk nurse betrays no concern the speed at which she picks up the phone says otherwise.

“We’ll get you up in the room, and then the doctor will tell you that everything is fine.” Javi reassures you - and himself. Babies come when they want to, not on your schedule. “Maybe you can even have a glass of wine with Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Maybe.” His demeanor being as calm as it is makes you so grateful you could cry again, but a nurse comes over with a wheelchair to get you situated and soon enough your mother is there beside you again. It is going to be alright; you tell yourself over and over. Because you’re taken care of and your little girl will be, too.

Javi is holding your hand. “You want a drink sweetheart?” He knows that if you are having the baby tonight, soon enough they will limit you to ice chips.

“Might as well, while I still can.” You’re thinking the same thing he is, and gratefully accept the water bottle he hands you. “It’ll be ice chips before too long.”

“Yes it will.” He leans in and presses his lips to your hairline. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too.” And that, especially right now, is enough to make the difference.

******

You are definitely in labor. Javi holds your hand and reassures you through the pain. The doctor monitoring your progress for hours until suddenly everything speeds up and you are wheeled into the deliver room, Javier smocked up in a gown and gloves. He’s been present for both of the boys’ births and he’s not missing this.

It’s just after midnight when your little girl makes her squalling entrance into this bright new world, shaking her fists and blinking with wonder at all the new things to see and hear and feel.

Like the boys, Javi cuts the umbilical cord and is the first to hold his daughter when the doctor hands her to him, bringing her up to you. “Our little girl.” He chokes out with tears in his eyes from joy and relief that she seems just perfect.

“She’s perfect.” At five pounds and six ounces she’s a little on the small side, but the doctor seems satisfied that she’s healthy and was just determined to arrive early. “She really is perfect.” You have cried at the arrival of each of your babies and have absolutely no impulse to hide it, open shedding tears of joy as your little girl stares with wide eyes up into your face.

“Just like her mama.” Because of the risk of complications, only he has been allowed in the delivery room, giving you three time together. “She’s our perfect little joy.”

“Joy.” Your eyes turn up to his, barely able to tear them away from your daughter except to smile at your husband. Your soulmate. “Joy is a nice name.” But since you try to infuse their family heritage into each of your children’s names, you end up smiling wider. “Alegría. We could call her Allie for short?”

“Alegría Helena Peña.” He tried out the name and smiles softly, reaching out to caress her still wet hair. “It’s perfect”.

"I love you." Three words murmured to your soulmate when you smile up at him again, and repeated to your baby girl when you can't help but look back down at her again. "And I love you, Alegría. We both love you more than you'll ever know."

It wasn't on the list, but you don't care. The overwhelming happiness of this moment being immortalized by your baby girl's name is a perfect homage to all the unplanned things that have lead you to this point. Sometimes the best laid plans go awry, and sometimes that is exactly what fills you with love and happiness right down to your bones.

After a few more minutes, the nurses take Alegría away to do all the tests and clean her up. Javi holds your hand while other nurses help clean up the afterbirth. “It’s a good thing I got your gift early this year.” He chuckles, kissing your lips again. “I’m so damn proud of you, sweetheart.”

"I'm just glad she's healthy." It was your greatest fear and you know it was his too. Being left alone in that quiet hospital room together is almost deafening in an odd reversal of the sensation after so much commotion during Alegría's birth. "No NICU. No scary uncertainty. Just an eager little preemie who wanted to meet her whole family at once."

“Our Thanksgiving baby.” Javi smiles. “Even though her birthday won’t fall on Thanksgiving every year.”

“November 22.” All you know is that is after midnight, so it’s technically Thanksgiving Day now. “Add that to February 3 for Marco and August 15 for Oscar. Thank God they’re all well spaced out so they never have to share.”

“True.” He flashes you a grin. “Although the boys might be jealous when she gets a special dish on Thanksgiving.” He teases.

“Birthday cake is about to become a Peña Thanksgiving tradition,” you joke, knowing it could well become true.

“Baby, thank you.” His hand is holding yours again and he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon. Even though you are tired, sweaty and would probably say you look horrible, you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, right after the birth of all three of his children. “This is for you.” He offers, holding out the small velvet box he had shoved in his pocket hours earlier.

"Cariño." He has become a fan of push presents ever since first hearing about them, and while you always insist they aren't necessary when asked, it is a special kind of keepsake to have an item that reminds you of this moment. The first moments are the births of your children have all been special in their own ways, so you don't protest, but accept the box from him with a kiss. "I love you," you murmur against his lips, savoring the sensation before cracking open the box in your hand.

A beautiful three stone diamond ring winks back at you, the three baguette cut stones lying end to end in the beautifully carved band in the same metal as both your engagement band and wedding band. A third piece to complete the set like your complete set of three beautiful children. "It's beautiful."

“I figured it could be worn on the other side of your wedding band.” He explains, playing with the jewelry in question. Luckily your hands had not swollen with pregnancy like they had with Marco. “Your children represented on one side.” He murmurs softly. “And my commitment to you on the other.”

"Happily. Without hesitation." You lean over to kiss him again, wading through this feeling of exhausted euphoria for all that you can.

The doctors finish with Alegría and bring her back over to you, making Javi smile at the image when you greedily pull her close. “Do you want me to go get your mom?” He asks softly.

"Yes, please." Nodding and sniffling happily at having your daughter back in your arms, you tilt your chin up to ask for one more kiss before he goes. The new ring has settled on your finger comfortably but all of your attention is back on your little girl. "She'll text the rest of the family for us. At least the announcement is easy this time."

“No international phone calls.” He snorts, letting his lips linger on yours before he bends down more and kisses his daughter’s head. “I love you, mija.” He whispers softly, just like he had when you were carrying her. His life has been changed completely by you and the kids. For the better in every way. Javier knows joy, knows peace, and he knows that his family is the most important thing he could ever fight for. He had decided that he couldn’t let you walk out of his life a second time, and it was the best decision he had ever made.

------

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

BFoW: @haileymorelikestupid @theorganasolo @missladym1981 @alexiamargot06 @southernbe @cloudroomblog @the-queen-of-sorrows

[ovaryacted]

WIP WEDNESDAY!

Thank you for the tags babes @strang3lov3 @guiltyasdave @mermaidgirl30 @tightjeansjavi! 🫶 So of course, I don't have anything to actually share because...life. Just trying to get back into doing something I’m passionate about, but that doesn't mean I'm not working! I'll just talk about what it is I'm currently chipping away at.

Something self indulgent for me and Buga Boo (aka @strang3lov3) that won't see the light of day. It's literally just for us cause you guys wouldn't get it and I’m gatekeeping. (If you're a fan of Succession, it's literally just anal w/Tom Wambsgans lmao oops)

False Gods - General Marcus Acacius fic I'm writing split into 2-3 parts. I'd ideally like to get the first part done before I watch the movie next week but we'll see.

Ch. 2 of Wish You Knew - Hopefully I can finish it before Thanksgiving, that would be nice. And no, I have not fallen off of the Logan Howlett train, I'm the conductor bitch!

Prey For Crimson - Alpha Old Man Logan is coming along so far, chopping away at the doc piece by piece lmao. It's...something.

Something for Joel Miller & Javier Peña cooking up (separate fics lmao) can't say much but just know they're on my mind heavyyyyyy!

NP TAGS: @joelsdagger @ozarkthedog @pedgito @pedrospatch @gothcsz @taeslarityy @zloshy @yxtkiwiyxt @pedroscurls @javierpena-inatacvest @joelsgoldrush @evolnoomym @mrsmando @taeslarityy @sceletaflores (and anybody else that wants to do this! My mind is blanking on like half of my tag list I’m sorry lmao!)

[wheresarizona]

Hey! Okay, so right now I’m focusing on getting the next chapter of LTL done, but I wanna see what everyone is in the mood for.

LTL : Javier Peña/f!feader

September: Joel Miller/f!reader

Usually, I’d include God is a Woman, but that story is fighting me right now. 😔😔😔

I’ve written so much of all three of these fics. 🥲🥲🥲

[ihaveitprinteddout]

imma have a long night of reading but I cannot wait to give this series a read ❤️

It's Never Too Late Masterlist

Summary: You are an elementary school teacher who just moved to Texas for a fresh start when you meet a very handsome man from the Laredo Sheriff's Department coming to give your class a presentation.

After your co-workers pull some strings for you to meet again, you and Javier Peña find yourselves falling head over heels for each other.

Story takes place post Narcos Season 3 in Laredo, Texas, starting May 1997.

Paring: Javier Peña x OFC (Reader is an elementary school teacher whose nickname is Osita, no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+ chapters containing marked with * and each chapter will also have its own warnings), language, fluff, romantic comedy, reader has physical descriptions, Javi being so soft and getting all the love and affection he deserves, you two being the biggest weirdos so in love

Status: Ongoing

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for new chapters as they come out! :)

Main Story:

Chapter 1: I D.A.R.E. You

Chapter 2: What's Cookin', Good Lookin'?

Chapter 3: I Wanna Be With You Everywhere*

Chapter 4: Add You To My List*

Chapter 5: You're The One That I Want*

Chapter 6: Dinosaurs, Dates and Diners, Oh My!*

Chapter 7: School's Out for Summer*

Chapter 8: My Favorite Cowboy*

Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña*

Chapter 9: I Promise*

Chapter 10: Happy Birthday, Javi*

Pt. 1*

Pt. 2*

Chapter 11: Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago *

Chapter 12: I Love You. I Know. *

Chapter 13: There's No Place Like Home*

Chapter 14: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas*

Chapter 15: She Shoots, She Scores*

Chapter 16: The Lone Star State*

Chapter 17: No Ifs, Ands, Or Butts*

Chapter 18: Hole in None*

Chapter 19: Good Luck, and Goodnight*

Spin-Off Series:

Forever and Always*: Slices of life following the Peña family after their first child

One Shots (In chronological order of the main storyline):

Movie Night*

Dirty Laundry*

Again*

You're My Home*

Not Yet*

The Mouse and the Motorcycle

You Make Life Worth It

Take Me Home

Plaid Pajama Morning

Agent Peña*

Every Inch*

Soup for Breakfast

Oh, Baby

Peanut Butter and Pickles

Asks/Headcannons:

Javi and Osita before work

Javi's DEA Jacket

Javi's Tac Vest

Javi and Osita when they argue

Javi being distractingly cute

Javi when he's sick

Osita when she's pregnant

Osita after a bad day at work

Javi coming home after work to his kids

Extras:

NSFW Alphabet- Javi and Osita

1K Followers Celebration Asks and Answers

Never Too Late Playlist

Mood board

[loslentesdepedrito]

I'm Your Wife- Chapter Three

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Two

Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Four

Word count: 9.6k+

Chapter summary: Jack faces the consequences of his actions, and his past once again, haunts him and you. (Picks up directly from ch. 2. The flashback scene is bold and italicized.)

Rating: 18+ no explicit content but I'd rather not have minors read these types of subjects. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles.

Warnings: ANGST, language used by the characters is harsh and contains strong emotions, mentions of cheating, toxic marriage, no explicit content, but suggestive, pregnancy, divorce, and childhood disease. (I hope I didn’t forget anything, it’s been years since I wrote this.)

A/N: Some of 2017 references. Huge, huge, huge apologies for the late chapter! Long story short, a colleague had to take emergency leave, and I stepped in to manage a project that will be presented in two weeks. My work is pre-written, this one in 2017, but I have to add the translations, and I love making the graphics, even if it takes me way too long. I'll be out of the country for the presentation, but I'll try my best to upload something before then. Thank you to everyone for their patience, and I hope you enjoy this part!

She's pregnant?... She's pregnant... Jack's mind whirls with a mix of surprise and jealousy, the revelation hitting him like a freight train and igniting an uncontrollable fire within his chest. 

"Did you fuck him while we were married?" The question escapes Jack's lips, driven by irrationality and a mix of hurt and anger. If he were more collected, he would have realized the insensitivity of such a question, but his emotions are spiraling out of control.

He doesn't even get to hear what you have to say because, in an instant, Jack gets up from his chair in a sudden burst of emotions and sends it flying backward into the wall. 

His thoughts and emotions collide, just like the chair and the wall, and he feels like he's drowning in a storm of feelings he can't control. Jack constantly thought about you and his child, but without knowing the gender or having a name, his child remained an elusive figure in his mind. A fleeting thought that now lingers is how he always referred to your child as his little angel, never imagining how close to the truth it was.

Just as he discovers the existence of his son, he's confronted with the harsh reality that you've moved on. In the purest sense of the word, you have moved on. She's truly moved on, he repeats in his mind. The pain is overwhelming as he realizes you married Javier, probably raised Ángel with him, and now you're expecting another child—a child that belongs to another man. 

Jack had hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was a slight chance for him, you, and his child to form a family together. But that hope has been crushed. He knows deep down that you would never leave the family you've built, especially not for someone who treated you like an afterthought.

His heart aches at the knowledge that you have built a life without him. You're carrying another man's child, and it cuts deep into his soul. The thought of you and your husband raising a family, laughing and sharing moments together, stabs at him like a knife. 

It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that he missed out on so much. That he wasn't there to witness the joy of your pregnancy, to see your belly swell with the life you both created. He can only imagine the moments he lost, like not being able to go to the obstetrician with you, to witness the miraculous sonograms that reveal the tiny life growing inside you.

Tears sting his eyes as he recalls the sonogram of Ángel that you had given him, and how he carelessly threw it to the floor in a fit of anger. The regret now gnaws at him, realizing he'll never be able to relive those moments he cast aside.

A heartbreaking sense of loss envelops him, knowing that he wasn't there to hear Ángel's heartbeat resounding in the clinic. He wasn't there to hold his son for the first time, and thank you for giving him such an extraordinary gift. It's like watching a movie of his own life, but he's only a viewer, a stranger to the beautiful moments he should have been a part of.

He knows he hurt you, and Jack knows he doesn't deserve your forgiveness. But he can't help but wish for the chance to make things right, to be there for you and Ángel, to be the man you need him to be. Yet, deep down, he knows that ship has sailed.

Ya treated her like gum stuck to the sole of your boots, a cruel voice whispers in his head. Why would she ever wanna be with ya again?

As the emotions continue to swirl inside him, Jack glances at Javier, your husband, the man who has taken his place in your life. The sight of the wedding band on Javier's finger is a cruel reminder of the life they've built together.

That coulda been me, Jack thinks bitterly. I coulda been the one to marry her, to raise our child, to create a family.

But it's not him, and he can't change the past. He can't go back and be the man he should have been. All he can do now is face the consequences of his actions and accept that he missed his chance.

His heart weighs heavy with regret and sorrow, knowing that he let go of something precious. Your laughter, your smile, your love—all lost to him now. 

But amidst the storm of emotions, there's one thing that remains crystal clear: he has a son, Ángel, a part of him that he didn't know existed. And while he may not have the chance to be the father he should have been from the start, he can still try to be there for his son now.

Jack knows that he can't change the past, but he can choose how to move forward. He can decide to be a father his son deserves, to be a better man, even if it's not the fairytale ending he once dreamed of.

"I meant it. I'll get tested." Jack finally says. It's a small step, but it's the first one toward building a relationship with his son. He knows it won't be easy, and there will be obstacles to overcome, but he's willing to try.

You look at him, your eyes filled with tears. Honestly, when you first contacted him, you didn't know what to expect. But the fact that he's willing to take this step means something to you.

Jack replies, his voice resolute, "I want to be there for him, even if it's late. I want to be a part of his life."

Javier, still seething with anger, glances at Jack cautiously. He's protective of you and Ángel, and he won't let anyone hurt you again. But he also knows that this is a difficult situation, and he's willing to give Jack a chance to prove himself.

"I hope you mean it," Javier says, his voice stern but not without understanding. "Ángel deserves a father who will be there for him."

"I do," Jack says. "Sorry, I overreacted. I've been going to therapy, I swear." He lets out a dark chuckle. "I'm just... it's hard."

"Of course, I'll get tested, and I hope to God- I'm a match." He adds sincerely.

"Thank you, Jack," you say, your voice softening, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have implied in any way that Ángel's illness is your fault because it's not. But thank you for doing this- it means a lot to us."

Just then, Dr. Navarro enters the room, breaking the tension. "Woah," he exclaims, looking at the scraped wall. "I never noticed that before. We'll have to get maintenance to fix it."

After Jack agreed to get tested, Dr. Navarro sent him to get a physical to determine if he was in good condition to donate stem cells. Jack passed the tests with flying colors and was then sent to get tested for HLA markers. The doctor explained to Jack that this would determine if he was able to donate his cells to Ángel.

As he leaves the pathology department with his sleeves rolled up and a cotton ball taped to his right arm where the puncture was made, he's taken by surprise to see you waiting for him at the front desk. With his grey suit coat draped over one hand, he quickly tries to adjust his appearance, but the look on his face betrays his attempt to appear composed.

"Here." You say, handing him a red heart candy lollipop.

"Where did you get it?" He laughs, touched by the sweet gesture. Jack reaches out to take the lollipop, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

"From Mrs. Kroos." You say, pointing behind you.

His brows furrow, giving away his confusion.

"The lady that works at the front desk loves Ángel, and she knows he loves these candies. So she always gives him a few whenever she sees one of us. But be careful, don’t drop it. I won't give you another one.” You warn.

"I'll guard it with my life, sugar." Jack clutches the candy tightly, cherishing this small token of kindness from you. His eyes soften, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. It's as if, for a brief moment, he's transported back to the early days of your relationship.

To steer his thoughts in another direction, he examines the lollipop's wrapper, fingers absently tracing its red heart shape. But his eyes instinctively draw to your stomach, where the faint curve is evident beneath your clothes. It's a closer look than he's had before, the first time he's seen it up close since learning of your pregnancy this morning. His eyes linger there, and you can feel him searching for words to say or questions to ask. 

"How far along are you?"

"Five, almost six months." You reply, your hand instinctively resting on your baby bump.

He stays silent, unsure of what to say.

"Oh," he recovers, "Do you know what you're having?"

"Another boy." You answer with excitement.

"Oh." He clears his throat, trying to hide any hint of disappointment. 

"That's good. Congrats." Jesus, Jack, can't ya quit bein' an ass for just one minute?

As you stand before him, Jack can't help but feel a pang of pain. It's envy and jealousy, but it's also the sadness for what he missed out on with you and his son. The family he could have had, the love he could have shown and the joy he could have shared are now experienced by Javier, not him.

"Excuse me for a moment." He says suddenly, and you hear his voice trembling. He nearly runs to the restroom, needing a private space to let his feelings pour out.

Inside the stall, Jack allows himself to cry, and release the pent-up emotions. The tears are a mix of sorrow for the time lost and the regret of not cherishing the moments he had with you and your first child. Memories of the past flood his mind—moments he should have cherished, words he should have spoken with love, and gestures he should have made to make you feel valued. It's a cathartic moment, a release of the pain and the realization of what could have been.

As he wipes away his tears, Jack takes a deep breath and leaves the stall. He washes his hands and gets a good look at himself through the mirror. He prays you won't comment on his red and puffy eyes, but as expected, your concern for him is evident as soon as you see him exit the restroom.

"Everything alright?" You ask, worried about his sudden departure.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jack replies, his voice still shaky but trying to regain composure.

Shortly after, you both take a deep breath and in a moment of eagerness on Jack's part and haste on your own, you attempt to speak at the same time, your words overlapping:

"Can I mee-"

"Do you want to mee-"

Jack's desire to meet Ángel is unmistakably clear in your eyes.

After a moment of contemplation, you speak first. "Yes, you can meet him," you say, voice filled with caution, "But we have to be careful about how we approach it. I think we have to take it slow with the official introduction."

Jack nods, understanding the need for caution. "Yes, ma'am. I get it. I don't want to do anything that might upset him."

"We'll take it one step at a time. Maybe we can start by introducing you as a friend, someone special to us. We can see how he reacts and take it from there. But you have to promise not to push him away," you continue, your gaze locking with his, "As a parent, I know the love one has for their children. I know you will always love the baby boy you lost, but you cannot compare him to Ángel. Each child is special and deserves their own place in your heart."

Jack takes a moment to absorb your words, realizing the truth in them. "You're right," he says, his voice softer now, "I don't want to make the same mistakes again. Ángel deserves better than that."

"He does," you affirm, "And I think you'll be a positive influence in his life. Just take it one step at a time, be patient with him, and be there for him. It won't be easy, but I think it's worth trying."

Jack nods, grateful for your understanding and guidance. "Thank you," he says sincerely, "I really appreciate you giving me and Ángel a chance."

"I want what's best for my son," you say, your love for Ángel evident in your eyes, "And if that means having his biological father in his life, then I'm willing to support it."

"Thank you," Jack repeats, his heart feeling true hope for the first time in years.

"C'mon. He's on the 16th floor." You say guiding him to the elevator. 

This time Jack is more collected in the elevator. Not that he's any less nervous, in fact, his heart is pounding with anticipation. Because he can't believe that after all these years, he has the opportunity to meet his son.  

As you guide Jack down the hospital corridor towards the elevator, he takes in his surroundings. The fluorescent lights above cast a sterile glow, and the muffled footsteps echo through the hallway - that's what Jack tries to focus on. Ideally, he would reach out to take your hand in his, and that would settle his racing heart. He gives it a little more thought and correctly assumes that you would probably smack him, so he decides against it, not wanting to upset you. Again. 

You can sense his nervousness as you walk beside him, and it amuses you how, in the past, you would have done absolutely anything to make him feel better. Yes, a part of you feels for him because there was a point in your life when you were in love with him more than anything, more than you had been with anyone. But another part of you is screaming, Don't care, don't let him in, remember all you went through?

The truth is, it feels almost unfair that you still have the instinct to comfort him when he never extended the same care or compassion toward you. It's a reminder of the one-sided nature of your past relationship, where you gave your all, but he held back. You hate that reminder. You hate how he made you feel. You hate how he made you act. You hate how he still makes you feel when you think about your past. 

You try your best to settle your thoughts as you walk together toward the elevator. Therapy had been helpful after the divorce, but it took a backseat when Ángel got sick. Now, considering how you feel around Jack, you realize it's time to prioritize your emotional well-being again. You make a mental note to schedule an appointment with Dr. Ordoñez soon, even if it means being on the phone for an hour and sitting on an uncomfortable hospital chair during the session. 

You'll soon be co-parenting with Jack, and you want to get to the stage where you don't appear like you want to kill him. If it weren't for your son, you would have been just fine never seeing Jack again, but you don't want your son to resent you or miss out on having a relationship with his biological father. 

Ángel already has a father and a wonderful father at that. Javi has been a fantastic father as well as a good husband. He loves Ángel, which is why, when you discussed Jack, he felt that his son shouldn't be denied the option to have another parent. 

You both keep walking, and when you make it to the elevator, you press the button, and the polished metal doors slide open with a soft ping. Jack places his hand on the door, and with a gracious gesture, he extends his other hand, signaling for you to walk through first. It's a small gesture, but it stirs a mix of memories and emotions within you. Before the divorce, you would have melted at such chivalry. His southern charm seemed to vanish right after you married. You had hoped that Jack would return to the man you were once head over heels for, but now, with hindsight, you can see a field of red flags that you had overlooked, perhaps purposely. Looking back at your relationship with Jack, there are moments when you can't help but cringe at your own behavior, realizing you held on desperately, not wanting to let go. Your yearning for him to love you was so intense that you settled for the bare minimum, hoping things would change. But as you stand there pressing the button to take you to the 16th floor, you can't help but acknowledge how much has changed, how much you've changed. You've known how you felt about him for years, but looking at Jack now, without any remnants of love in your heart, brings you a sense of liberation.

As the elevator door glides open with a soft ping, you step out, and Jack follows closely behind, his footsteps echoing lightly as you lead the way down to the front desk. The receptionist warmly smiles as she recognizes you and, with a press of a button, she buzzes you in without any need for further verification or questions. This special perk is granted due to your frequent visits to receive food and welcome visitors.

Unfortunately, you know the path to Ángel's hospital room like the back of your hand. You could be blindfolded and make it to room 43 without bumping into any obstacles- that's how long your son's been here. 

You make your way through the corridor, the hallway branching into two sides. Rooms 1-20 are on the left, and rooms 21-45 are on the right. You direct Jack to the right, to room 43, where Ángel is.

The walls are adorned with a burst of bright colors, courtesy of the children's paintings. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the left, where three adorable minions holding bananas are doodled. Next to it, a watercolored rainbow stretches across the length of the wall.

As you continue to room 43, your gaze shifts to your favorite artwork on the 16th floor- a bright red bear wearing a dapper top hat and a crooked, thick mustache. One eye is bigger than the other one, but you love it. To the left of the bear, there are princesses in their glitter-covered gowns. The last piece of the row is Spiderman. He's shooting webs, and his hand is drawn in the classic pose - his right hand extended with his index and middle fingers bent, touching his palm.

I haven't seen this one before, you think, as you notice mouthwatering donuts, likely drawn by an older child. Each donut has different glazes and toppings, so realistic that they almost look good enough to eat, leaving your taste buds tingling. Weird pregnancy cravings.

Every inch of the corridor is decorated with these precious works of art. The sight brings a smile to your face as you think about the children who must have carefully crafted their art with love, making this corridor bearable to walk through.

As you walked past the 30's, admiring the colorful artwork adorning the walls, Jack's mind was filled with thoughts of his son. ' Does he have her hair or mine? Whose eyes does he have? Lord, I hope he has her nose.' He couldn't help but subconsciously trace his nose's bridge.

You steal a glance at Jack while walking to Ángel's room, and his expression says it all. His brows are slightly furrowed, and his eyes dart around. His neck seems a bit tense, and you can see his jaw clenching and unclenching. Esta comiendo ansias. (He's worrying too much.) You think, looking at the mixture of eagerness and anxiety written all over his face.

"We're almost there." You tell him, your voice gentle, as you approached the 40's.

43. Jack's heart skips a beat as he sees the number on the door. It's as if time stands still for a moment before his heart starts racing with nervous excitement. A million thoughts rush through Jack's mind, and he can feel tears welling up in his eyes. I'm going to meet my son. All those years of longing, of wondering what his child would be like, of yearning for a connection he thought he might never have - it's all happening.

As you reached for the doorknob, Jack's hand was slightly trembling. Don't trip, don't say something stupid, he mentally coached himself, trying to calm his nerves. With a mix of trepidation and hope, Jack stepped into the room behind you, taking in his surroundings. The room felt a bit cold, but the soft sunlight streaming in from the window cast a gentle glow over everything.

The room had that familiar hospital scent, a combination of antiseptic cleaners and the comforting aroma of fragrant flowers placed in vases around the room. 

He hears a movie playing in the background and looks at the TV to see little yellow characters with overalls he doesn't recognize. The animated movie's sounds mix with the soft beeping of medical equipment. He can see Javier getting up from the couch to the right of his son's bed, and your husband sends Jack a small, discreet nod of acknowledgment. You step in front of Jack, giving him a reassuring look, and he waits for your cue, staying near the door.

From this angle, Jack can't see Ángel; he only sees you and Javier to the right of the bed. He moves slowly, staying hidden beside the wall, not wanting to startle his little boy. He can't help but feel his heart pounding in his chest, his emotions swirling in a mix of excitement and anxiety.

"Mi niño, estas despierto?" ("My boy, are you asleep?") You call out in a soft, tender voice.

"Sí, no se quiere dormir. Quiere minions." (Yes, he doesn't want to sleep. [He] wants minions.) Javier replies playfully, his eyes widening with a playful expression as he tickles Ángel, eliciting sweet laughter from the boy.

That sound, Jack thinks, it's the most beautiful sound I've heard. 

"Se llama Despicable Me, Jav." ("It's called Despicable Me, Jav.") You correct him with a soft smile.

"Es lo mismo." ("It's the same.") Javi playfully groans, earning a swat from you.

You look at your husband, and he knows what you need to do. Javi gives you a smile and gives your hand a squeeze. With his reassurance, you turn back to Ángel.

"Papi, queremos que conozcas a alguien." ("Baby, we want you to meet someone.") You tell your son as you gesture toward the corner where Jack is waiting.

You send Jack a look, and with a deep breath, he steps forward. His eyes immediately draw to Ángel, like a moth to a flame. Time seems to stand still as Jack takes in the sight of his son. He's perfect, Jack thinks. 

Ángel is a sweet little boy, with jet-black hair that curls gently at the ends. Behind his black-rimmed glasses are a pair of brown eyes that mirror Jack's. At that moment, Jack feels an indescribable connection, an everlasting bond. He's the perfect combination of both of us, but I think he resembles me a little more, he thinks, his heart happy that his phenotypes seem to have won.

As he steps closer, he notices Ángel's nose and lips, traits that are identical to yours.

A rush of emotions overwhelms Jack as he looks at his son. His heart swells with love and joy, but there's also a twinge of sadness at the time he missed. His eyes start to water, blurring his vision a bit, but he tries to blink the tears away, wanting to see Ángel clearly, to memorize every precious detail.

"Hi!" Ángel cheerfully says, and that breaks Jack's dam. He starts crying, unable to contain his tears.

"Mami," Ángel whispers, leaning to your side, "¿Por qué está llorando el señor?" ("Mommy, why is the man crying?")

Jack's voice wavers with emotion as he speaks, "Sorry," he says, his voice cracking slightly. He tries to wipe his cheeks and regulate his breathing, "I'm sorry."

"Ángel, this is Jack. He's a family friend." You introduce.

"Hey, buddy," Jack manages to say, his voice still trembling, "Sorry 'bout the tears, I just... I found out a lot this morning."

Ángel stares for a second and then reaches for his bedside drawer. He pulls out a mini-wrapped Crunch bar and extends it towards Jack, saying with a caring tone, "It's okay, Mr. Jack. Here, this will make you feel better. I love chocolate, and this is my favorite candy." He smiles warmly as he extends the mini Crunch bar towards Jack.

Jack is touched by Ángel's kindness and accepts the chocolate with a grateful smile, "Thank you, Ángel." Pull it together, Jack, don't start cryin' again. He mentally lectures himself, fighting back the feelings threatening to rise again. "This is my favorite chocolate too." He says honestly.  

"Here, I brought this for you." Jack says, his heart pounding with anticipation. He removes the jacket from his free arm, revealing a medium-sized gift bag that he had kept hidden underneath. Damn, how long has he been hiding that? He's had the coat in his hand since I saw him after the blood draw, you think, touched by Jack's thoughtful gesture.

Ángel turns to look at you and Javier for permission, and you both give him an encouraging nod.

Jack hands his son the red gift bag, and Ángel eagerly receives his present. Excitement dances in the little boy's eyes as he quickly removes the tissue paper. Jack can't help but overthink, What if he doesn't like it? Is he too big for-

Ángel gasps, and Jack's heart sinks for a moment, fearing the worst. But then, a radiant smile lights up Ángel's face as he pulls out a teddy bear, dressed in overalls and a black cowboy hat. The bear's dark brown coat is fluffy, and there's a heart stitched on the front pocket of the bear's overalls, right in the middle.

"Cool! Thanks!" Ángel exclaims, clutching the teddy bear to his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Jack's worry melts away as he watches Ángel kiss the bear's hat. "It's perfect!" Ángel shouts, looking up at Jack with gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you so much!"

Relief washes over Jack, replaced by overwhelming joy at the sight of his son's delight. It's as if Jack's heart has grown tenfold, witnessing his son's happiness.

Jack's heart swells with happiness as he sees the joy on his son's face. He can't help but smile back, his eyes glistening with tears of joy. "You're welcome, Ángel," Jack says, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm glad you like it."

"My dad gave me a Spider-Man teddy, now Spidey has a cowboy friend!" Ángel cheerfully exclaims, proudly showing off the Spider-Man build-a-bear that Javi had gifted him earlier this year. You don't miss the way Jack's face falls a little at his son calling Javier his dad.

Ángel shares all the details of when Javier gifted him with the Spidey teddy, and you watch as Jack listens attentively to every word. A mix of emotions is evident in his eyes - happiness at finally meeting his son, but also a hint of sadness and longing for the title of "dad" that Ángel has already bestowed upon Javier.

You give Jack a reassuring smile, silently telling him that it's okay, that Ángel's heart is big enough to love both of them eventually. Jack sees your expression and shifts his focus back to his son. He may not have the title of "dad" right now, but he's building a connection with his son, and that's what matters most.

After finishing his story, Ángel immediately turns to you and Javi, his eyes filled with hope. "¿Se puede quedar para c-o-m-e-r?" ("Can he stay to e-a-t?") He spells out the word, not wanting to vocalize it in case his parents don't agree, and wanting to avoid any potential disappointment for Jack. He doesn't want Jack to feel unwelcome or like he's being kicked out by not being asked to stay for lunch.

You can sense that Ángel has taken a liking to Jack and wants to spend more time with him.

Javi smiles warmly at his son, understanding Ángel's hesitation. "Claro que sí, mijo." ("Of course, my son.") He says, not wanting to deny his son this request. You notice the joy that lights up in Ángel's eyes, grateful for the opportunity to spend more time with Jack.

Turning to Jack, you extend the invitation, "Jack, would you like to stay for lunch?"

"Of course, thank you." Jack replies, and Ángel's face lights up even more at his response.

"Danny and Heidi dropped off Pozole earlier." Javi informs.

Pozole, why does that sound familiar? Who are Danny and Heidi? Jack thinks.

You exclaim with delight, "I love your cousin and his wife, and I love Pozole!" 

"And Ángel does too. He gets that from you," Javi says, giving you a small kiss on the cheek before going to the table across Ángel's bed. He reaches for the bag with the Tupperware containers, clearly eager to eat.

As Javier opens the bag, he can't help but playfully tease, "You know I'm more of a menudo guy."

"I know. Your only flaw…" You jest.

Jack observes the easy love between you and Javier, feeling a bittersweet sense of heartbreak. He can't help but compare the deep connection you share with Javier to the time when he was your husband, witnessing the loving moments that once belonged to him.

Javier opens one Tupperware, and the air fills with the rich, savory scent-a tantalizing blend of chicken broth, hominy, and a mix of earthy spices and aromatic herbs. Suddenly, the smell transports him to a distant memory, back to a time when he was your husband.

It was a cold winter evening in December, one of your favorite times of the year when you could savor warm and comforting food and drinks. Tonight, you had finally convinced your husband, Jack, to try Pozole, one of your favorite dishes. You gathered the ingredients and set to work in the kitchen, hoping to create a special meal for him.

The pot was filled with water, and you added onions, garlic, salt, and chicken, allowing the savory aroma to fill the room. In your blender, you carefully blended the sauce, a perfect mixture of chile ancho, chile guajillo, garlic cloves, onions, vegetable oil, oregano, and salt, mindful of not adding too many chilies so it wouldn't be too spicy for Jack, just enough for flavor.

As the broth boiled, you took the time to prepare the fresh toppings, washing and slicing the lettuce, jalapeños, white onion, lemon, cilantro, and radishes. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of the simmering Pozole and your music was playing softly in the background.

With the hominy added to the pot, the Pozole was nearly ready. You carefully ladled it into bowls, adding the toppings to each one, making sure to skip the jalapeños in Jack's bowl to avoid any spiciness.

When Jack came home, you could tell he wasn't having a great day. He didn't greet you, not that he usually did, and there was a hint of frustration in his expression. But you hoped that your efforts would brighten his mood.

"Hi, Love. Welcome home." You said with a smile, hoping to receive some affection in return.

He glanced at you briefly, barely acknowledging your presence. "Yeah." Was his only response.

You tried not to let his lack of enthusiasm affect you and continued, "I made something different for dinner tonight. Pozole, one of my favorites. I hope you'll like it."

Jack glanced at the simmering pot on the stove, but his expression remained indifferent. "Right, you said you would."

As you took the bowls to the dining table, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. It seemed like no matter how much effort you put into making him happy, he rarely showed any appreciation or love in return.

He sat down to eat, and you watched eagerly for his reaction. But as he took the first spoonful, his face turned red, and he exclaimed, "You said it wasn't spicy!"

You insisted, "It's not, honey! I made sure to adjust the spices for you."

"Well, Darlin'," he emphasized mockingly, "I can't feel my tongue." He grumbled, looking at you like he was angry, and you rushed to get him some milk to ease the heat.

"I'm so sorry, Jack. I really thought it wasn't spicy." You apologized, feeling disappointed in yourself. The excitement and anticipation you had felt earlier were quickly replaced by a sense of sadness as your efforts had once again fallen short.

"I'm never eating that again." He declared, pushing the bowl away, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your heart. You had put so much love and effort into preparing the meal, hoping it would bring a smile to his face, but instead, it seemed to have added to his frustration.

Feeling hurt and upset, you excused yourself to the kitchen, wanting to give him space to cool off. The music playing in the background continued. ‘Miro tus ojos y no eres feliz. Y tu mirada no sabe mentir. No tiene caso continuar así. Si no me amas, es mejor partir. Desde hace tiempo ya nada es igual. No eres la misma y me tratas mal. Y ante mi Dios te podría jurar. Cuánto te quise y te quiero, todavía. Adiós amor, me voy de ti. Y esta vez para siempre. Me iré sin marcha atrás porque sería fatal. Adiós amor, yo fui de ti, el amor de tu vida. Lo dijiste una vez, me lo hiciste creer. Cómo me duele perderte. Me resignaré a olvidarte. Porque me fallaste’ ('I look you at your eyes and you're not happy. And your gaze doesn't know how to lie. There's no point in continuing like this. If you don't love me, it's better for me to go. For a long time, things haven't been the same. You are different and you treat me poorly. And before my God, I could swear to you. How much I loved you and I love you, still. Goodbye, my love. I'm leaving you, and this time for good. I'm leaving without turning back, or else it'd be fatal. Goodbye, my love. I was the love of your life. You said that once, you made me believe it. What a pain it is to lose you.I will resign myself to forget you. Because you failed me')

If only you had paid more attention to the lyrics and your feelings, maybe you would have confronted the problems earlier. But at that moment, all you could do was try to salvage the evening and find a way to communicate with Jack.

Knowing it would only take a few minutes, you decided to make Tennessee Meatloaf. On one of your early dates, he had mentioned it was one of his favorite dishes, and you had learned how to make it, even though you weren't particularly fond of the smell. But if it could bring a smile to his face, you were willing to endure it.

The Instant Pot hummed with gentle pressure, and you took a moment to close your eyes, relishing the memories of how Jack used to love this dish. The way he'd smile and compliment your cooking, his eyes filled with warmth and appreciation. But those moments felt distant now.

When the timer beeped, you carefully released the pressure from the Instant Pot, eager to serve the meatloaf to Jack. As you lifted the lid, the hot air brushed against your fingertips, causing you to unintentionally scream, "Fuck!" You rushed to run your hand under cold water, trying to soothe the burn. In a hurry, you grabbed the first aid kit and quickly tended to your wounded hand, the pain causing your eyes to sting.

After handling your injury, you quickly retrieved the meatloaf from the pot – tender, juicy, and with its strong aroma enveloping the room. Placing the dish on a nice plate, you added a generous drizzle of your homemade barbecue sauce, its tangy and smoky scent blending with the meaty smell.

With the meatloaf now ready, you gathered your courage and returned to the dining table, placing the dish before Jack. As he glanced at the meal and noticed your injured hand, a flicker of recognition, concern, and guilt passed through his eyes before he quickly masked it with indifference.

You sat down next to him, your heart pounding with nervous anticipation. He glanced at you, and though his anger had softened slightly, he still seemed guarded. Nonetheless, he gave you a small thanks, a brief glimmer of acknowledgment that you held onto like a lifeline.

"I'm sorry about the Pozole," you said, trying to break the silence, "I really wanted to make something you'd enjoy."

"It's fine." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

You reached for his hand, and he didn't pull away, but there was a noticeable lack of warmth in the gesture, a warmth that hadn't been present in your relationship for a long time.

You felt a knot forming in your chest, wanting to reach out and connect with him, but it seemed like he had built an impenetrable wall around himself. Still, you couldn't bear the thought of leaving things unresolved.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to gently probe, "Is everything okay, Jack?"

He let out a sigh, seeming almost annoyed that you brought it up. "I just had a rough day at work. It's nothin'."

Your heart sank. This was the pattern, the wall he always put up whenever something was bothering him. You felt like you were constantly walking on eggshells, never knowing how to approach him without setting him off.

"I wish you would talk to me, Jack. We're supposed to be partners, and I want to be there for you." You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

He glanced at you, his eyes softening for a split second before the coldness returned. "I ain't need you fixin' everythin' for me, okay? I can handle my own problems." His jaw clenched, and you knew he was struggling with his emotions.

"It's not about fixing everything. It's about being there for each other, supporting each other through the good and the bad. That's what a marriage is supposed to be."

He scoffed, pushing his plate away. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't need that right now."

Your heart ached at his words, feeling the distance between you grow wider. You tried to hold back the tears, not wanting to show him how much his indifference hurt you.

He stood up and walked away, leaving you sitting at the dining table, eating by yourself.

You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, and began clearing the table, putting away the uneaten Pozole and the Tennessee Meatloaf you had made with so much hope.

After tidying up the kitchen, you mustered the courage to follow Jack to the bedroom. As you entered, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, freshly showered, staring at the floor. He seemed lost in his thoughts, distant and closed off.

You went to his side and gently massaged his shoulders, "I'm sorry about earlier. I'm here for you, no matter what. I love you, Jack," you said softly, looking into his eyes with love and concern, "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

He looked up at you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. But just as quickly, he shut down again. 

His response was unexpected and detached, "Get on all fours. Face down."

You knew you could say no, but you didn't want to. You wanted his love, even if it meant emotionless on his part. Your brow furrowed, but you did as he commanded anyway. 

After both of you were done, he told you to go pee. When you came out of the bathroom, Jack was already asleep. He slept with his back towards you.

As you lay in bed that night, you cried yourself to sleep. Silently, not wanting to wake him up. You were in a deep sleep as a result of your body being overworked, the stressed cooking made you, and from crying. You thought you felt him wrap his arms around you and heard him mumble a sorry into the top of your head, but you were sure you made it up.

Out of all the things Jack was, he wasn't oblivious. He knew how much he hurt you. He knew he was an ass, but he couldn't bring himself to reflect on how much he hurt you tonight. 

He heard your stifled sobs earlier, and each one was like a dagger in his chest. The pain he inflicted on you was a weight he could hardly bear. But when the sobs finally ceased and silence settled, he assumed you had drifted into sleep, offering him the opportunity he needed.

With cautious movements, he shifted closer to you. In the darkness, he could make out the contours of your face, the lines of worry etched by his actions. Gently, he rolled over and reached for you, pulling you into his arms. Seeking solace from the very person he had hurt. 

Wrapped in your embrace, he stroked your head lightly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns through your hair. He pressed a soft kiss onto the top of your head, his lips lingering there, trying to convey all the apologies he couldn't find the words for. At that moment, he wished he could erase the pain he had caused, the detachment he had shown.

"Sorry," he huffed out, "I'm so sorry, my love." He whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. He wished he could be better for you, offer you the love you deserved, but his own monsters held him back.

Yet, even as he murmured his apologies in the darkness, his touch carried a tenderness that spoke volumes. It was as if he sought redemption through this secret exchange because he wasn't ready to confront the reality of facing you in the light of day. He wished he could hold you close, to make the pain he inflicted vanish with a simple embrace. But he knew that true healing required more than just whispered words; it needed a change he wasn't sure he was capable of making. 

After his silent confessions, he released you from his gentle hold, allowing the fragile connection to slip away as he turned. He rolled onto his previous position. The weight of his guilt and remorse remained, but so did the weight of his fears. And as he lay there, his back turned to you, he faced his own darkness, unsure how to bridge the gap between the man he was and the man he needed to become.

You start talking with Javi about the food, and Jack watches you converse with your husband as you serve the food together, and his heart hurts watching the domesticity.

At the same time, you're caught in a whirlwind of memories, and the rush of them makes your movements stutter. In your distraction, you accidentally cut yourself with the aluminum foil, and some loose lemon juice gets in your wound. A small sound of pain escapes your lips, and Javi immediately drops what he had in his hand, rushing to your side. He gently cradles your hand in his, concern etched on his face.

"Amor!" ("Love!") Javi says, his voice laced with worry. His eyes flicker between your wound and your face, trying to gauge the severity of the cut.

Jack's heart clenches seeing you in pain. He wants to rush over and take your hand in his. He wishes he could be the one to hold your hand and soothe your hurt, but he knows that's not his place anymore, and it kills him.

"Mami, ¿está bien?" ("Mommy, are you okay?") Your son asks, equally concerned as his dad. He moves closer, his little brows furrowing.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm just overreacting." You brush it off, though your eyes betray the pain you're feeling. You're trying to hide the memories that caught you off guard, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere for your son and Jack.

"You're not, you got hurt." Javi insists, his eyes fixed on your wound.

"Sit down." He commands, his tone still gentle but leaving no room for argument. He guides you to a chair, his larger hand engulfing yours, and he reaches for a nearby first aid kit. His fingers move with practiced ease as he cleans the wound with antiseptic, his touch gentle and attentive. He then wraps a band-aid around your finger, his movements unhurried, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

Your eyes start to water, the flood of memories of Jack and Javi overwhelming you. You can't help but recall the countless times Javi has taken care of you, both the physical and emotional wounds, much like he's doing now. His actions carry the weight of all the love and comfort he's provided over the years. He's always been there for me. Not like- you stop yourself before full waterworks begin.

"Mi vida, ¿te duele?" ("My love, does it hurt?") Javier asks, his voice full of care, taking your hand into his. His brown eyes search yours for any hint of pain, and his brows furrow with genuine concern.

"No, nomás me acordé de algo. I'm okay." ("No, I just remembered something. I'm okay.") You whisper, trying to assure him, your voice barely above a breath. It's not just the cut that's causing your distress; it's the memories that were triggered by the simple act of serving food. You had moments like these, but they hadn't been present in a while. 

"Segura?" ("You're sure?") Javier asks, his concern palpable, his gaze unwavering. He wants to make sure you're truly okay.

"Ya se me pasó. I'm okay, I promise." ("It already passed.")

Javi knows you well enough to sense when you're not entirely okay, but he also knows that this is something you'll want to talk about later in private. For now, he respects your need to maintain normalcy in front of your son and Jack. He leans in and gives you a gentle kiss, his lips warm against your skin, a silent promise of his support.

"No te muevas. I'll serve the food, cariño." ("Don't move. I'll serve the food, dear.")

You nod and then turn to the reason for your tears, "Jack, are you sure you want Pozole? I don't know if you remember, but you already had it once."

Jack's face drops slightly, his mind racing, Oh God, she remembers what I did. He approaches you, whispering an apology, his voice laden with regret. "I do want it. I'm so sorry." He murmurs, looking like he might cry.

You can't bear to look at him right now, so you shift your gaze to Javier. 

Javier adjusts the hospital bed table to Ángel's height and gets ready to serve. He starts with Ángel, ensuring his plate is prepared just right, with no onions, just as he likes it. He places the bowl before him, "Provecho, mi niño." ("Have a good meal, my boy.")

"¡Gracias papi!" ("Thank you, Daddy!") He was going to wait for everyone to start eating, but his hunger for having a light breakfast gets the best of him.

Javi quickly arranges the larger table, despite your offer to do it. He only guided you to sit at the table and served you a bowl of Pozole. The sight of the soup with radish on top made your mouth water. 

“I'll give him some of Ángel's container. Ours has four Chiles de arbol," Javi says to you, glancing over at Jack. "It’ll be too spicy for you,” he smirks.

Jack takes it as a challenge. “I’ll have some of yours.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Remember what happened last time? It was too spi-“

“No really. It’s fine,” Jack insists, a determined look on his face.

Javier serves his and Jack's food and all eyes shift to Jack. Ángel is eating his Pozole with ease, but his gaze flickers between his meal and Jack's reaction.

As Jack takes the first spoonful, he tries to maintain a facade of composure. However, within moments, his face turns a noticeable shade of red, and beads of sweat form on his forehead. He manages another spoonful, but as he swallows, a sudden fit of coughing overtakes him.

You quickly move to the refrigerator, grabbing a carton of milk for Jack. 

As Jack's face turned redder, Angel looked worried. "Are you okay, Mr. Jack?" he asked with genuine concern.

"I'll be fine, bud." Jack managed between coughs, his pride momentarily overshadowed by his son's concern.

Observing Jack's struggle, Javi's expression remained calm, a knowing look in his eyes as if he had anticipated this outcome. He leaned towards Jack, "Told you you couldn't handle it." He doesn't say it loudly, only loud enough for Jack to hear, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Jack ignores Javier and rasps thanks for the milk, and quickly drowns it. His tongue stops throbbing, and he goes for a third spoonful before Ángel stops him.

"Maybe you should try some from my Tupperware. I only want one bowl," Ángel kindly suggested, not wanting Jack to suffer from the spiciness of the food his dad served.

"Yeah, I think that's the best idea." You quickly chimed in, turning to Javi with a decisive look that left no room for argument.

Javi got up and served Jack another bowl, this time from Ángel's portion so it would be less spicy for Jack. If it were entirely up to Javi, he might have made Jack eat the spicy pozole, but Ángel's compassion for Jack was clear, so Javi complied.

Jack nodded to Javi and then turned to Ángel, his voice sincere as he said, "Thank you, buddy."

This bowl was spicier than the one you had prepared for him in the past. Jack's mind had become clouded by anger, causing him to exaggerate and latch onto your cooking as an excuse for his emotions. If he were to eat the pozole you made exactly as you had prepared it before, he would have no issue. It was as if his anger demanded a tangible reason to be directed at you, and this distorted perception had twisted the reality of your dish. Now he realizes his mistake, and it makes him hate himself all over again.

Ángel was engrossed in the movie he was watching, providing Jack with the perfect opportunity to voice something that had been on his mind for a while. “He has your nose. Good,” Jack chuckled.

“Yeah, and let’s hope this one also has her nose,” Javi said, his hand gently caressing your stomach.

"Hey," you interjected, "Both of you stop hating on your noses, right now. It's ridiculous."

As Jack glanced at you, memories of your past flooded his mind. I remember when she used to tell me how much she loved my nose whenever I said I hated it.

"Right. I almost forgot how much you love my nose." Javier said suggestively, breaking Jack's train of thought.

You felt flustered by Javier's comment, and Jack's emotions churned into a mix of fury and jealousy. He couldn't help but feel anger at the casual way your new husband had commented on your sex life. Jack's hands clenched slightly under the table, his fingers flexing as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He averted his gaze, focusing on his plate as a way to regain his composure.

Ángel's laugh pulled him out of his trance, and Jack's head instinctively turned to him. 

"Look," Ángel said between laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement, "the security guard from Binky Nelson Unpacified kinda looks like you, Mr. Jack!"

Everyone's gaze shifted to the subject of Ángel's amusement, and soon, laughter filled the room as the uncanny resemblance became evident. Jack couldn't deny the similarities: the mustache, the sideburns, the pair of boots, and a cowboy hat. Jack got up from the table and took a seat next to his son's bed. 

"You're right," Jack chuckled, "Even the cowboy part is spot on, but I've got a ranch." He shared with a hint of pride in his voice.

"Actually?" Ángel's amazement was noticeable.

"I ain't kiddin'," Jack responded with a grin.

Ángel gasped in delight, exclaiming, "I love ranches!"

"Well, maybe once you're out of the hospital, we can all go," Jack suggested warmly, glancing at you and Javi. He made sure to add, "If it's okay with your parents."

The idea seemed to energize Ángel, and both you and Javi agreed. Your son's face lit up.

Your son cheered before a realization struck him. "But we have to go before or after Coco because I haven't been to the movie theaters in so long, and I really, really want to watch that movie," Ángel's words tumbled out in excitement.

"You can come with!" Ángel extended the invitation, his excitement contagious. "Mami? Papi?" ("Mommy? Daddy?") Ángel turned to you and Javier, seeking your approval.

"Yeah, if Jack wants to." Javi responded, giving his approval.

"I'll be there. You just name the time and place, bud." Jack assured Ángel with a genuine smile.

Jack's attention shifted back to the TV, and his eyes zoned in on the cowboy hat. "Oh! You need a hat like mine." Jack suggested.

"I do?" Ángel's curiosity was piqued, his eyes widening as he considered the idea.

Without hesitation, Jack reached up and took hold of his own Stetson, lifting it from his head. "Would you like to try it?" he asked, enthusiastic about sharing a special moment with his son.

Ángel's face lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight. "Can I really?" he asked, his excitement practically palpable.

"Of course!" Jack replied, his smile widening. Jack carefully placed the hat on Ángel's head. He was mindful of the size difference between his head and his son's, so he adjusted the hat to ensure it wouldn't slip over Ángel's eyes. The hat found its place at a jaunty angle, mostly resting on the back of Ángel's head.

In Ángel's excitement to grab the mirror from his bedside table drawer, he moved a bit too quickly, causing the Stetson to slip down over his eyes. The weight of the hat threw his glasses off his face, and Ángel exclaimed, "¡Ahh, mis lentes!" (Ahh, my glasses!")

Ángel's muffled laughter came from beneath the hat, as he tried to push it back up. "It's heavier than I thought." He admitted with a sheepish grin, his glasses now resting on the floor beside him.

Jack picked up Ángel's glasses and handed them back to him, he thanked him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Mr. Jack."

Jack settled back into his seat, his smile lingering. "We'll just have to get you a hat your size."

"I'm so ready to get out of here," Ángel remarked, his excitement apparent.

"Speaking of getting out of here, I'll be back," you announced, rising from your seat. "Ángel ran out of towels, and it's better to go up to the housekeeping desk."

"I'll go get them." Jack offered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll go get them." Jack reassured you.

"I'll be back, buddy." Jack told Ángel, his voice soothing as he shared a brief exchange of smiles with his son.

Jack left the room and was on a hunt for towels. He had no idea where the housekeeping desk was, but his eagerness to be useful had spurred him to offer to pick up the towels.

After a short search, he spotted a desk and rushed over. A teenager in a bright blue polo shirt, wearing a badge reading 'volunteer', caught his attention.

"Good afternoon, sir, what can I help you with?" The boy asked politely.

"Afternoon," Jack began, almost instinctively tipping his hat before remembering it was with his son, "Would you happen to know where I can get some things from housekeeping?"

"I can help you with that, sir." The volunteer responded, a touch of enthusiasm in his voice as if Jack had just made his day.

“Perfect! My wife asked for towels for my son. He's in room 43.” Jack stated, happy that he wasn't completely useless.

The volunteer tapped away on the computer keyboard. “For Ángel Peña?”

Jack swallows hard and nods. Fuck, Jack thinks. It should have been Ángel Daniels. My son should have had my last name. 

The boy leaned back in his rolling chair and opened a cabinet. He retrieved three large towels and handed them to Jack. Thanking the teenager, Jack turned and walked away. Lost in thought, he looked down as he walked, and when he turned the corner, a familiar voice reached his ears.

“Oh, I didn’t know you remarried. Again. Because surely you’re not talking about my girl.” Javi said with his jaw clenched. “She’s not your wife anymore, Jack. She’s my wife.” 

Please feel free to comment and reblog! I truly do love reading them! I promise I'll try to engage more!

Taglist: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy @mishasminion360 @ilovetaquitosmmmm

The song used in this chapter is called Adiós Amor. I was obsessed with Christian Nodal in 2017, and when I wrote this, that song was extremely popular.

If you've read this far, thank you, and have a great day 🤎 (I hope this uploads because I had everything ready to go until I accidentally hit undo. I wasn't able to recover my draft, yay! I definitely did not want to throw my computer for a while :)

[encasedinobsidian]

ain't shit sweeter, ch 2: Lincoln Park

Father in law!Javier Peña x OFC │ Series masterlist

Series summary: In the late 1990’s, Javier Peña transfers to the DEA field office in Chicago, taking the long-awaited opportunity to spend more time with his son while he adjusts to life post-Colombia. But in the midst of it all, he falls in love with the woman who resents his very presence in her life; his daughter-in-law, Mabel.

A/N: Enjoy reluctantly horny Javi :)

Read here on ao3!

Mabel doesn’t speak another word to Javier the rest of the day, and in a way, he’s relieved. She is a twofold inconvenience to him, a painful reminder that he doesn’t feel like a father, and he doesn’t feel like a man. Who cares how much the wires cross — failing Lorraine, failing Jennifer, and failing James all become one in her. He can’t even tell what he wants from her. When honesty swims in the alcohol he has had served to him all afternoon, he can’t tell if he wants to fuck Mabel or let her slap him as a surrogate for the son who lives in blissful ignorance. He can’t tell if his desire to have her underneath him is a desire to punish her for her attitude, or born out of frustration that she is another thing he cannot have.

[ihaveitprinteddout]

as a plus size chica, this fic was PERFECTION. the love he has for her thighs hit me the hardest bc I'm hella insecure of my tree trunk thighs 😂😭

“I love you cariño. I’m not just saying that cause I’m a little pussy drunk right now. Okay, not a little, a lot actually. I just want to remind you that you are quite literally the most beautiful woman, mi amor. Mi corazón y mi alma son tuyos. (My love, my heart and soul are yours.” MI CORAZÓN PARA JAVI 😭❤️

𝙄’𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬

(Javi Peña x plus sized f!reader)

A/N: this by far has been the most intimidating piece I have ever written. I received this request awhile back and I wanted to make sure I throughly thought it through before writing. I have to thank my besties, @chaotic-mystery and @peterhollandkait for helping me along the way. Every body type deserves to be loved and appreciated, and I hope this sheds some positive light on all my plus sized babes out there. Thank you for entrusting me with writing this. ♡

~Word count: 3.7k~

Summary: A night out dancing with your friends in Colombia leads you to meet the man of your dreams, Javi Peña. He is the one man in your life who truly loves and appreciates all of you.

Warnings: established relationship, body positivity, brief societal bullshit in the beginning, Javi is a passionate lover, reader is plus sized, smut, oral (female receiving) face sitting, pussy eating, cum eating, huge fucking praise kink, teasing, banter, fluff mixed in between, swearing, NSFW, (+18) minors dni!

Songs used:

“pov” by Ariana Grande

“TiO” by Zayn

“PILLOWTALK” by Zayn

“Tuyo” by Rodrigo Amarante

Your boyfriend Javi never failed to make you feel like you were the most beautiful woman in the room. It didn’t matter where the two of you were, he didn’t hesitate to show the world that you were all his. He worshipped the ground you walked on. Your past lovers never loved you the way that Javi actively would. The ex men in your life never truly appreciated you for who you were. It was always superficial, and focused around your body. You realized at a young age that society valued women for their looks, and not what was on the inside. You didn’t fit in the category of the ‘ideal’ body type. You weren’t a stick thin model. You weren’t short and petite. You were boxed into a category that society deemed as ‘ugly.’ You were taught that all bodies were beautiful and women were more than just their skin. If only the men in your life would understand, and see things from your point of view. That was, until you met Javi Peña.

You have been dating Javi for a little over a year now. You met the DEA agent while you were out dancing with your friends one hot summer evening in Colombia. He was captivated by you, and the way your body moved. He was practically begging to take you home. You told him that he’d have to properly treat you first and for once, you didn’t see a man hesitate to take you out for a good meal. Javi knew all the best late night food joints in Bogotá, and for the rest of the late night, you enjoyed tapas together. Drinking, laughing, enjoying one’s company. He was adamant on making sure you made it home safely. You couldn’t help but invite him in for a nightcap, and next thing you knew, he had you pressed against the back of your door, hands roaming your body like a man starved. He stole the air from your lungs as he kissed you. Your mind was dizzy, captivated with this man who made you weak in the knees. Javi didn’t pressure you of course, and everything was taken at your own pace. You did end up having that nightcap together after a passionate makeout.

A year later, and your life is fully enveloped around agent Peña. You have a shared apartment now and the sparks continue to fly.

It’s Sunday morning, and you’ve always been an early riser. Your boyfriend? Well..he’s the complete opposite. You’re always understanding of course. You know just how much his job takes a toll on him. Mornings like these are your favorite because it’s just you in the kitchen, radio humming in the back as you cook you and your lover breakfast. You’re wearing one of his many shirts. This one is particularly your favorite simply for the fact that it’s an ‘unconventional’ color for a man to wear. The shirt is pink and you swear your boyfriend sprayed extra cologne on the cotton fabric just because he knows how much you love it.

You don’t even hear your lover's presence in the kitchen as you’re completely in your own world. Your hips sensually sway to the beat of the song playing through the radio as you hum along.

Javi loves the way that his shirts never cover your butt completely. He loves the way the fabric hugs your hips and thighs. He loves the way he can grip onto your hips and pull you against his chest. He loves the way that when you straddle him, your thighs take up the entire expanse of his. What society views as ugly, he views as beauty. You’re beautiful, sexy, in every way imaginable to him. Here in his kitchen, dressed in his shirt, sunlight peeking in through the stained glass windows. If only fools fall in love, then Javi was the president of the club.

You felt his presence behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest. Your boyfriend is wearing nothing but tight black boxer briefs when you feel his lips press a soft kiss to the side of your neck, his mustache tickles your skin as you let out a soft giggle. “Buenos días hermosa. ¿Cómo durmió mi niña?”(good morning beautiful. How did my girl sleep?) He hummed against your skin, giving your hips a firm, loving squeeze as he continued to pepper kisses down the expanse of your neck.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you reached your hand back and threaded your fingers through his soft bead head, giving his hair a soft tug. “Buenos días mi amor, dormí bien. ¿Y tú?”(good morning my love, I slept good. How about you?) Your lover had taught you a thing or two about speaking Spanish. It was one of the many things that you and Javi did together, and It never failed to surprise him, and melt his heart when you would actively speak his native tongue.

“Getting better, cariño. That’s my girl.” He lifted his chin up slightly so he could steal a quick kiss, or two before he gently flipped you around so you were facing him. Your arms draped around his neck as he pressed you into the cool countertop. His shirt rode higher up your thighs from the movement, revealing more of your delicious skin to his adoration filled eyes. “Whatever you’re cooking there smells delicious, querida but my appetites are specific this morning. Can I eat you instead?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he grasped onto the back of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the edge of the counter top.

“Only for you, Jav.” You giggled as he lifted you up onto the counter top. Your thighs jiggled from the movement as they covered the expanse of the counter top. You wrapped them around his waist, yanking him towards you with a playful gleam in your eyes. Your boyfriend's vulgarity never surprised you and you knew how to match his energy beautifully. “You’ll spoil your breakfast if you eat me baby.”

“Don’t care. You’re looking too damn delicious for me not to. You know what you do to me when you’re wearing one of my shirts? Jesus fucking Christ woman, you know how to drive a man absolutely up a fucking wall.” He let out a low growl as he was already diving in for another kiss. “You look so fucking sexy in my shirt it’s unreal baby. Un-fucking-real how lucky I am. Luckiest fucking man alive.” He mumbled into your lips, swiping his sinful tongue across your plump lower lip before he took it between his teeth.

Finishing up preparing breakfast was no longer on your mind as your lover kissed you like a man starved. You wasted no time to pull him down on top of you, kissing him back with the same amount of passion that he exuded. A moan slipped past your lips when his teeth sunk into your skin. He had your head spinning already. “You want to devour me right here, right now?”

He tugged your lower lip out with his teeth before he released it. “I’ll get down on my knees for you right now cariño. You don’t even have to ask.” He purred as he pressed kisses all over your face now, playfully nibbling on your soft cheeks and cute nose. “I’ll eat your pussy here first, and then move you to the bed where you can sit on my face, and suffocate me with those gorgeous thighs. How’s that sound to you hermosa?”

You scrunched your nose up when his teeth playfully nibbled on it. How could your man be so sweet, and yet so filthy at the same goddamn time? “Get on your knees for me, Agent Peña.” Your voice dipped down an octave. Tone sultry, yet playful.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled as he stole one more kiss from your pretty lips. His tongue enveloped around yours, drinking in your soft breaths with your teeth clashing in a heated kiss. His skilled fingers were already moving up his shirt that you were wearing. The buttons were nearly about to burst open and your breasts pushed against the tight fabric was enough for him to rip the shirt open ferociously. The buttons clattered to the floor as you let out a gasp, swatting at his chest.

“JAV! Your shirt! You’ve gone and—oh fuck.” Your words were cut off when his mouth wrapped around your peeked nipple, his lashes fluttering up to your gaze as his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin before sucking harshly. His hand that wasn’t gripped on your thigh was now wrapped around the expanse of your breast. He kneaded the plush skin with his fingers, tugging on your nipple with his thumb and forefinger. He provided the same amount of lustrous attention to both of your breasts. His breath was heavy as he nipped and licked at every inch of your skin that he could get to. His movements were ravenous as you watched him sink to his knees below you.

“It’s just a shirt, cariño. I have plenty of them.” You felt him grin into the warm expanse of your inner thigh. Javi was a biter, and he prided himself on it. His lips and teeth were biting and kissing your plush skin. He was a fucking tease too as he ghosted his lips across where you craved him most. Your hand found purchase in his hair, threading your fingers through the soft strands as you tugged on them, fingers scraping his scalp. “Don’t you dare make me beg you right now Javi. Don’t you dare.”

“Paciencia cariño. Let me take my sweet sweet time with you and your pretty pussy. Don’t rush my work.” He tsked as he nipped at your inner thigh once more.

You opened your mouth to protest until you felt his tongue flatten against your covered clit. His broad nose pressed against your pubic bone as he tasted you through the fabric of your thin panties. His tongue dragged across your slick folds before gliding back up to your clit. He sucked on the bundle of nerves through the fabric, creating tingling friction from his hot tongue and the fabric rubbing against you.

“Fuck me. I need to feel you completely, baby. Please, Jav. Please don’t tease me.”

Javi used the broad expanse of his shoulders to keep your thighs propped open for him. He continued to lap at your covered pussy while looking up at you. His brow rose sinfully and you could see just how dark his pupils had grown. The sight of him buried between your plush thighs was enough to have your eyes roll back into your skull. “Look at me.” He mumbled against you. “Look at me with those beautiful eyes, hermosa. Look at me while I eat your pussy. Keep them on me.”

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes fluttered open and locked on his. There was never a hotter sight than your boyfriend beneath you.

“Good girl.” He hummed while he hooked his thumb around the thin fabric and pulled it to the side. He wasted no time burying his face into you, sucking in a lungful of air because he wasn’t going to take any breaths till he had you cumming along his tongue. His nose bumped against your clit as he lapped at your slick folds. He loosened his jaw up as he sucked your clit into his mouth and used the tip of his tongue to flick against it. The sounds he made while he ate your pussy were nothing short of filthy. He loved the taste of you on his tongue. Your natural sweet saltiness drove him mad. He wasn’t shy of admitting that he loved eating you out. He’d have his face buried between your thighs everyday if you’d let him.

“F—fuck Javi. Baby—your tongue it’s so—yes, yes right there. Oh fuck. Please don’t stop.” You mewled above him, scraping your nails against his scalp as you elicited a low groan from his chest.

“Taste so fucking sweet baby. All for me. Let me hear those pretty sounds. Your pussy sounds so pretty. You hear how wet she is for me?” He hummed with a mouthful of your cunt.

You let out a slew of profanities mixed in with his name as he continued to lap at you. He switched from slow, long licks to rapid ones as he shook his head back and forth against you. Each time his nose would bump into your clit, you’d jolt forward from the sudden contact.

You could feel him grinning against you as he dropped his tongue down your slick folds, gathering up your arousal before he slipped his tongue into your tight hole, fucking you with it at an agonizing slow pace.

You struggled to keep your eyes locked on him when all you could see was the bridge of his nose. His face was completely buried against you and he loved every second of it. It took him no time to coax your first orgasm of the morning. You ground your hips into his face as you chanted his name out like it was your personal prayer.

His mouth became more ravenous against you when he could tell your orgasm was quickly approaching. He felt your thighs quiver and shake against his head as he licked up every last drop. When the rest of his face was revealed to you finally, his chin, mustache and lips were coated in your slick. He was glistening in your juices while he rested his cheek against your plush thigh, smirking up at you. “How was that for good eating?” He teased.

“You eat pussy like a man starved, Jav.” You dropped your hand down to his face, dragging your thumb across his slick covered lips. He nibbled lightly on the tip of your thumbnail.

“It’s the only way a man should be eating pussy baby. If he’s not, he’s definitely not doing it right. I fucking love it. I’d have my face buried between your thighs every damn day if you’d let me.”

“Well, maybe those ‘men’ should learn a thing or two from you.” You giggled.

He released your thumb from his lips as he turned his head to playfully nip at your thigh once more before he kissed his way up your body, skating his lips across your navel and up between the valley of your breasts. He finally reached your lips, kissing you languidly as you got a taste of yourself on his tongue.

“You need a minute or two to recover cariño? We do have all morning so there’s no rush.”

“You just want me to sit on your face Jav. It’s okay, you can admit it.” You mumbled against his lips. Your thighs were still trembling as you hooked them around his waist pulling him in closer to you.

“Yeah, I want you to suffocate me with your thighs.” He casually stated as his hands found purchase around your outer thighs. “I want my face to be so deep in your pussy that I can’t breathe. You think you can do that for me sweet girl?” His lips detached from yours as he rested his forehead against you, teasingly brushing his upper lip across your lower.

“Is this your way of proposing? Because if so, yes.” You giggled, bringing your hands up to his face as you brushed your fingers across his firm jawline.

“Fuck. I am unprepared for this querida. Let me make it up to you, okay? My apologies hermosa. I should have a ring on deck for situations like this.” He had a tiny grin on his lips that you kissed earnestly.

You let out a faux sigh of disappointment. “That’s okay baby, I know it’ll happen someday.”

“te prometo que lo hará mi amor.” (I promise you it will my love)

Your response was to kiss him, pulling him as close as you physically could as your lips slotted with his. He kissed you like no man ever had. He kissed you with urgency, sincerity and passion. Soon enough, your boyfriend was helping you off the counter on wobbly legs. He was there to keep you steady as you made your way into the bedroom.

You had taken the reins then as you pushed him onto his back, watching as he fell back against the mattress with a smug look on his face. He scooted himself back against the headboard and tapped his chest for you to come take your seat. Once you were close enough, his hands were grabbing you, pulling you onto the expanse of his chest as your thighs settled around him. Your panties were quickly discarded down your ankles and to the floor as he brushed his thumb across your clit languidly. “Don’t be afraid to squeeze me a little, okay cariño? In fact, I’d absolutely love it if you did.” He looked up at you with a grin.

“One skull crusher coming right up, baby.” You giggled as he let out a deep chuckle. The playful edge was gone when he grasped your thighs between his fingers and pulled you down directly onto his face.

His tongue dragged against you once before his teeth were nipping at your meaty inner thighs. His hands slipped around your thighs, settling along your ass as he squeezed and kneaded the plump flesh, driving you further into him.

From the angle you were at, you could barely see his face as his tongue found its way to your clit once more. Your thighs were fully wrapped around his head now as he groaned against you. Tongue lapping away as he brought one of his hands down on your ass, feeling the skin jiggle from the contact before he was gripping it tightly again.

You could only see his eyes, which were blissfully closed as he swirled his tongue around your clit, sucking into his mouth. When he felt your gaze land on him, his eyes snapped open, locking on yours intensely. There was something so erotic watching your man devour you from this angle. To see him enveloped by your pussy and thighs was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

He continued to work your clit against his tongue. He was getting especially sloppy with his mouth when you started to ride his face. He could barely breathe with you clenching in around his head but he fucking loved every second of it.

Your moans were muffled and fuzzy sounding to him as he completely zoned in on making you cum again. He surely was pussy drunk at this point by the way he furiously lapped at you. Did his jaw ever feel sore after? You weren’t even sure at this point.

“C’mon baby. I know you got one more in you sweet girl. Wanna feel you cum on my tongue hermosa. Give me another taste, please.” His filth was muffled by your thighs, but his voice vibrated deliciously against your core as your hips continued to buck into his face. Your hips continually rolled into his tongue as your head dropped between your shoulders.

“Baby—oh fuck. Keep doing that. Whatever you’re doing keep fucking doing it. Don’t stop!” You moaned above him, grinding your hips faster as you chased your impending orgasm.

“Good girl. That’s my good fucking girl. Get off on my face you pretty filthy thing.” He growled against you, digging his fingers into the thick purchase of your ass as he drove you forward.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Javi I can’t—” your hands dropped to your thighs as they began to tremble around his head.

“Yes. Yes you can hermosa. I got you baby, I got you. One more for me, just one more.” He shook his head back and forth, pulling the orgasm right out of you as you screamed out his name.

He continued to praise you, all the way through your post orgasm. His face was still buried between your thighs as he gave your pussy light kitten licks, and a chaste kiss before you were physically yanking his head up.

“Too much? I wasn’t completely finished with you, querida.” His lips were held in a plush pout as he looked up at you. His big, puppy dog brown eyes were melting your heart all over again.

“Jav, baby. I love you but you’re gonna have to give me a few after that one..Jesus fuck.”

“Mmm. That’s okay baby. I can stay right here. I don’t mind at all. Can I give her a kiss? Just a little one.”

“You fucking— fine. Just know, you have completely wrecked me, beautiful boy.”

Javi pressed one more light kiss to your sensitive clit before his hands slid from your ass to rest upon your thighs, rubbing soothing circles into the plush skin.

“I love you cariño. I’m not just saying that cause I’m a little pussy drunk right now. Okay, not a little, a lot actually. I just want to remind you that you are quite literally the most beautiful woman, mi amor. Mi corazón y mi alma son tuyos. (My love, my heart and soul are yours.”

“Javi, this isn’t you trying to sweet talk your way into eating me out again, is it?” You looked down at him with a playful grin, narrowing your eyes when his stuck his tongue out ever so slightly—

“I don’t think I have to do much sweet talking for that pretty girl.” He squeezed your thighs beneath his warm palms. “Just want to remind you how much you mean to me.” he let his one hand that was grasped around your thigh, drop to the nightstand beside the bed. He pulled open the drawer before grabbing his box of cigarettes and lighter, placing one of the cigarettes between his lips. He gently scooted your thighs back slightly as you grabbed the lighter and leaned down over him, lighting the tip of the cigarette as he inhaled, looking up at you.

“Well, I love you too, Javi. Mi corazón y mi alma son tuyos.” You softly spoke as he took a deep inhale of his cigarette, while his free hand stayed wrapped around your thigh.

“Siempre, mi amor.” He confirmed, knowing that one day he would marry you, make you his wife. Spend the rest of his days with you by his side, in his arms.

Always, my love.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @loquaciousferret @userpedros @meveispunk @lovers-liability @atinylittlepain @777-wonders @korynnekorynne @novemberrain-writes @cutesyscreenname @bearsbeetsbeskar @beskarandblasters @yazsos @soaringcloud @soft-cryptids @pr0ximamidnight @last-girl @pedgeitopascal @kirsteng42 @dinsdjrn @mirasantidotes @dreamingofdaddydin @thetriumphantpanda

[perotovar]

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 1) "session one"

gif by me

pairing: joel miller/dieter bravo (just this time. main pairing is still javi/joel) rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 3.5k content: swearing, joel and tommy's southern accents being cute af, dieter being a menace, joel being awkward af (but it's cute), cringey porn dialogue, male masturbation (briefly), one (1) handjob, one (1) blowjob (it's messy), lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry (ily ♥)

summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where most of the ppcu boys are gay porn stars~

(read this first ->) prologue | series masterlist

Joel never would have guessed he’d do something like this ten years ago. Hell, not even five years ago. He’s not even totally sure how he got here, if he’s honest with himself.

He just remembers an, admittedly shady, business-looking man coming up to him and shoving a business card in his face. He asked if Joel had ever slept with men before. Joel was taken aback and thought he was coming onto him in a really bizarre way. He had, but that was none of this man’s business as far as he was concerned.

“There’s no pressure, I promise. Here, my website is on the card. If you see what you like, you gimme a call, okay?” The man had winked, grabbed his coffee, and left. 

Joel was left sitting in the middle of that coffee shop stunned into silence.

Later that night, sitting in front of the laptop Sarah nearly forced on him, he clumsily typed (using only his index fingers) the name of the website from the business card into the search bar.

Love Bites

The name and the man, Max Phillips according to the card, and his invasive question should’ve told him everything he needed to know, but Joel wasn’t prepared for the absolute onslaught of nudity he was met with.

“Jesus–” Joel mumbled to himself, slamming the laptop closed. Not that that would take it away, but he could hope. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head to himself. “The fuck you get yourself into, Miller?” He grumbled.

Slowly, and with one eye closed, he opened his laptop again. Once he got both eyes on it again, the website wasn’t… too bad. Well, it was still a porn site, but it wasn’t anything he hadn't seen before. He started looking around some more and didn’t bother turning it down. He lived alone now, both girls having moved out within the last year or so. He missed the hell out of them, and frankly, found himself bored more often than not. He and Tommy still owned Miller Contracting, but Joel stuck to the delegating and organizing part now. He had too many knee and back problems to keep up on the actual building part.

His finger rolled over to the “profiles” section of the website. He raised a brow and clicked on the trackpad hesitantly. There were several headshots of the men that made content for the website. He felt his cock twitch in his jeans and cleared his throat awkwardly, exhaling heavily. Well, it… had been a while. What could it hurt, right? 

He did have a lot of options…

Dark eyes trailing over the men on the site, he smiled softly. They all had little biographies that explained what their sexualities and preferences were. He snorted a little at seeing two different cowboys; one gay and a little older than himself, the other bisexual and perhaps around the same age. The younger cowboy had a prominent mustache and had a preference for “tying people up”. Bit on the nose in Joel’s opinion, but there was something for everyone. The older cowboy tended toward more amateur-style, “romantic” videos. Joel’s heart softened a little, but decided he wasn’t really in the mood for that sort of thing. 

In his search, he found just about everything; a messy haired, self proclaimed “adventurous” sort, a masked man that liked to roleplay, a clean cut looking man that considered himself a “romantic”. You name it, they probably had it. But his eyes landed on a particular man…

He had deep, intense eyes and a thick mustache. His hair was styled like he walked out of the 80s and he was wearing a thin gold chain. He had a bit of a Burt Reynolds thing going on, and normally that wouldn’t be something Joel was into, but this time, well… 

Joel clicked on his – Javier’s – page and started browsing the videos he had available. His bio said he was “fluid and polyamorous”, but Joel didn’t know what that meant. Wow, he was… popular. That didn’t surprise Joel at all, but his eyes landed on one of Javier’s “solo” videos. It looked like it was filmed in his apartment, but it probably wasn’t from how well lit it was. The video started off like Joel guessed all of them did; a fancy graphic with the words “Love Bites” in the center of the screen before the sound effect of someone taking a bite out of something, and a faint moan. The tips of Joel’s ears warmed, but he pressed on, watching Javier walk onto screen and sit in the middle of the couch that was in frame. 

Javier’s jeans were very tight, but maybe even moreso because of how fucking hard he looked to be. Joel swallowed a lump in his throat, his cock twitching again. Javier had an easy smirk on his handsome face, but he seemed like he didn’t have the cockiness that Joel expected a pornstar to have. The video seemed like it was personally sent to Joel and that thought made Joel’s cock stand to attention almost comically quickly. Unzipping his own jeans, he groaned at the constriction leaving, allowing him to breathe easier. He squeezed his cock and looked back at the video, Javier already getting started without him. He was stroking his own cock slowly, almost teasingly, biting a plump bottom lip. Joel moaned and shut his eyes for a quick second as he took himself in hand–

Ring, ring.

Joel groaned, squeezing his cock harder, and dug his phone out of his pocket. Tommy. He sighed and paused the video on Javier’s blissed out face and big hand wrapped around his–

Ring, ring.

“Christ, Tommy, what is it?” He grumbled, pressing the too-new-for-his-liking phone to his ear.

“Jesus, who pissed in your oatmeal this mornin’?” Tommy’s easy voice filtered in, a chuckle wrapped around his words. “And why are ya outta breath? Ya okay?”

“What–? Yeah, ‘m fine, Tommy. Why y’callin’?”

“Wonderin’ if ya could stop by tonight. Maria’s makin’ meatloaf and I know ya like it.”

Joel did really like Maria’s meatloaf. He sighed to himself and shut his laptop, his cock having softened considerably since hearing his brother’s voice. “Yeah,” he cleared his throat, trying to subtly zip up his jeans while he held the phone against his shoulder. “I’ll come over in a little bit, just gotta… gonna make a phone call.”

“Ooh, ya finally have a date, old man?”

“Can it,” Joel grunted. “‘M forty-three. Ain’t that old. And no, I was gonna call Sarah. See how her classes are goin’.”

“Send her our love, will ya? ‘N tell her she’ll have a cousin soon. Maria’s ‘bout to pop any day. ‘M scared to death,” Tommy sighed. The happiness was clear in his voice, though. Joel was happy for him, and smiled to himself. “How’s Ellie doin’, by the way?”

“Good. Think she said somethin’ ‘bout joinin’ a… roller derby team? Don’t rightly know, but,” he shrugged to himself. “Sounded like somethin’ she’d like, way she was describin’ it.”

Talking on the phone with Tommy always went the same way. He’d find a way to chew up a couple hours of your time, but Joel never minded. Once they said their goodbyes and their I-love-yous, Joel picked up Max Phillips’ business card and sighed, rubbing his thumb over the phone number.

What could it hurt, right?

That was two years ago. He’s been working for Love Bites for two years and had been avoiding Javier Peña as much as he could.

Joel’s never been good at… initiating conversations. Ellie would always give him shit for it. She usually went up to whoever had caught Joel’s eye and slyly made it her goal to get them to come over to him. 

But Ellie wasn’t here and she never would be. His girls knew what he did and even if they were a little concerned for him at first, they saw how much happier he’d been since joining. He was healthier, gaining a bit of “chub” as Sarah called it, and a healthier glow to his skin. He was on camera more often now, so he had to eat well and work out a little more. He didn’t do anything too crazy, and the audience that watched his videos had a lot of positive opinions and comments about his physique. It made him blush to think about it for too long, so he tried not to.

What was he saying?

Oh, right. Avoiding Javier Peña.

He’d had a huge crush on him ever since that first video he watched, and frankly, didn’t want to make a fool of himself if he talked to him. He’s filmed one video with him and it was the best Joel had felt in years. He almost came too quickly, and the video was supposed to be twenty minutes long. They had to pause so Joel could calm himself down, but Javier was patient and lovely with him. Javier had been doing this a lot longer than Joel had, so he wasn’t worried, which made Joel feel better. Just a little embarrassed. Afterwards, he had to leave, making up a story about seeing his girls for dinner that night.

“Javi!”

Joel’s eyes snapped up from his phone. He was in the middle of texting Sarah, saying that he’d call her when he got home from work. He had a scene with Dieter today.

And there he was. God. Joel’s cheeks flushed at the sight of Javier standing in the hall in his robe. He must’ve just finished his scene with Shane, the new kid. He couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the sound of Javier’s deep, commanding voice was enough to send a chill down Joel’s spine. Before he knew it, Javier was talking animatedly with Steve, another actor, as they walked off down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

He knew, realistically, relationships between porn actors could happen. Silva and Jake had been together for years. Joel’s problem with that was, well… Joel. His last real relationship was with Sarah’s mom years ago, and when the girls were in high school he had a relationship with this guy, Ezra for a while.

Smack!

“Jesus–!” Joel jumped, holding onto one of his ass cheeks protectively. Only one person would have done that.

“Hey, handsome,” Dieter grinned, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Joel’s jeans and squeezing. “Getting lost in Javi’s eyes again?” He winked.

“N-no! I am not,” Joel grumbled, finishing off his text and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Dieter snorted and rolled his eyes, then removed his hand to hold it out for Joel to take. “C’mon, big guy. You get to cum on my face today,” he smirked.

Filming with Dieter always felt good. He was a bit wild for Joel’s personal tastes, but he always made sure Joel was comfortable, and today was no different. 

Joel was playing a “plumber” that needed to work on Dieter’s “pipes”. This of course led to Dieter offering to “pay” in his own way. 

“Oh, come on, big guy like you doesn’t need money, right?” Dieter recited his lines expertly, running a hand down Joel’s t-shirt covered chest. “Bet it gets lonely doing this sort of work, huh?”

Joel had gotten a lot better at the acting part of things over the past couple of years. He was super stiff (and not in the right way) in the beginning, but now, he easily plastered on a smirk, eyes glued to Dieter’s lips. “Sometimes,” he shrugged, a big hand hovering over Dieter’s shoulder. Dieter saw the hand out of the corner of his eye and grinned, curling his fingers around Joel’s thick wrist and moving it down to his ass.

Joel smirked, squeezing the plump flesh appreciatively. “Bit forward o’ you,” he rumbled.

Dieter visibly shivered and bit his lip. “Sexy guy like you, of course I am,” he breathed. He leaned forward and kissed Joel messily, the hand on Joel’s torso moving down to unzip his jeans. Joel was already painfully hard and grunted into Dieter’s mouth when his pants were opened and lowered enough to pull his cock free. Dieter moaned and curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft, pumping rhythmically.

They stayed like that for a while; open mouth kisses, heavy breathing from Joel, and Dieter’s moans being picked up by the mics. 

Dieter pulled away to look down at the thick cock in his hand and bit his lip at the sight. “Fuck,” he groaned, his own cock twitching in his sweats. “Can I suck your cock?” He looked up at Joel demurely, eyes big and nearly black with desire.

Joel forgot he was supposed to be acting for a minute and grunted, hips bucking into Dieter’s grasp. “F-fuck, yeah,” he nodded, eyes glazed over. Dieter smiled and guided Joel over to the couch on the set. Technically, Dieter was supposed to get on his knees in the “kitchen”, but he knew Joel wouldn’t be able to stand for that long with his back problems. Sometimes Dieter’s improv classes came in handy. Max couldn’t complain too much, as long as Dieter sucked Joel off, then the video was still following the script.

Joel grunted as he sat, hard cock swaying slightly. Dieter giggled a little and happily got down on his knees, hands traveling up and down Joel’s thighs appreciatively. “Such a pretty cock,” he hummed, licking his lips as he watched it twitch in front of him, a drop of pre-cum gathering at the tip. 

“Why dontcha put that mouth to use, then?” Joel smirked, gripping the base and tapping the head against Dieter’s cheek. “Want your discount, right?”

Dieter smiled and opened his mouth wide, eyes shut in pure bliss. Joel gripped Dieter’s messy curls and held him still as he hit the head of his cock against Dieter’s tongue. Dieter moaned and opened his eyes, watching Joel’s face for any cues to stop. They never came, but it was something they all had to keep an eye on. When everything seemed to be going well, he happily wrapped his mouth around the head of Joel’s cock and started bobbing his head up and down.

He moaned, the vibrations traveling down Joel’s cock and up his spine, making Joel groan in return. “Mmm, knew you’d be good with your mouth,” he grinned, holding the back of Dieter’s head to set a pace Joel liked better.

Dieter heard a cameraman move to his right to get a better angle of his mouth, so he amped it up a little. He got messier, saliva dripping down along the sides of Joel’s shaft. Joel moaned weakly, resting his head on the back of the couch, but keeping one of his hands tangled in Dieter’s messy curls. Dieter started bobbing his head slower, eyes locked on Joel’s face as he moved further down his shaft, taking as much as he could down his throat. He choked slightly and pulled off, pre-cum and saliva covering his mouth and Joel’s cock. He smiled up at Joel and panted heavily, curling his fingers around the base to pump the thick cock.

Joel’s eyes rolled back and he grunted, hips bucking off the couch. “C’mere,” he breathed, heavy work boots landing heavily on the set floor as he stood. “Gonna fuck your face.”

Dieter shivered at the low timbre of Joel’s voice and nodded happily up at him. He pulled his sweats down and gripped his own cock in hand and started stroking himself rhythmically. Dieter opened his mouth for Joel obediently and nearly choked again when Joel shoved his cock down Dieter’s throat. He moaned weakly when Joel’s hips started moving, his heavy balls slapping against Dieter’s chin.

Dieter just had to take it, the lewd sounds of Joel fucking his face filling the otherwise quiet room. He fucking loved it because Joel was subtly massaging Dieter’s scalp and it sent shivers down his spine. His fist was almost a blur over his own cock and tears leaked out of his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks.

“Mmm, bein’ such a good boy f’me,” Joel grunted, biting his lip to rein it in a little. Dieter moaned at the praise, eyebrows downturned in pleasure. “Yeah? Like bein’ my good boy?”

Dieter whined and nodded as best he could, eyes completely glazed over. Joel slowed down his hips a little and let Dieter breathe for a minute. Dieter panted hard, a near-dopey smile on his face. “Come on my face,” he breathed heavily, extending his tongue for Joel. “Please.”

It was Joel’s turn to shiver as he slapped the head of his cock against Dieter’s face again. “Gonna have to earn it,” Joel smirked, reciting his lines as well as he could. 

Dieter whined and pouted up at him, his own hand slowing down a little. He didn’t say anything, letting Joel continue.

“Make me come, and I’ll paint this pretty face o’ yours.”

Dieter’s face lit up and he curled his fingers around Joel’s shaft. He watched Joel’s face while he wrapped his lips around the head and bobbed his head. His free hand held Joel’s hip and subtly moved to his ass and squeezed. He moaned around Joel’s cock and shut his eyes briefly before obediently looking up at him, big eyes wet and innocent. 

“Atta boy,” Joel grunted, cupping Dieter’s face lovingly. Dieter removed his mouth to kiss down his length as he stroked him, attaching his lips to one of Joel’s balls. “Mmm, fuck,” Joel breathed, tipping his head back. 

The hand on Joel’s ass moved slightly until one of Dieter’s fingertips prodded at Joel’s asshole. Joel grunted in surprise and smiled down at Dieter. “Really want me all over ya, huh?”

“Yes,” Dieter nodded, sucking one of Joel’s balls into his mouth. “Please.”

“Keep talkin’ like that and– ooh, fuck – Jus’ might get your wish,” Joel panted, shutting his eyes. He felt the build up in his lower stomach, his cock twitching violently in Dieter’s hand. “C’mere, baby boy,” he grinned, taking his cock back to stroke himself over Dieter’s face.

Dieter was buzzing, lifting Joel’s t-shirt to lovingly caress his hairy tummy, mouth open wide and obedient. 

Joel felt his balls draw up and his hips buck until– “Fuck–! Shit,” He moaned, thick ropes of come spurting out from the tip of his cock and landing on Dieter’s face and mouth. He caressed Dieter’s hair, thick fingers massaging his scalp while the other hand stroked himself until his balls were completely empty. 

Dieter happily licked his mouth clean, and hid his face in Joel’s stomach, whimpering into the sweaty skin. He moaned weakly, his entire body trembling as he came, completely untouched. Dieter was the only one in the cast that could do that, and he loved showing it off as much as he could.

“Shit,” Joel smiled, petting Dieter’s sweaty curls back and out of his face. “Ain’t you a sight.”

“Cut!”

Dieter deflated, a huge grin on his face. He started giggling into Joel’s stomach and smiled up at him. “Fucking love your cock, Joel,” he hummed happily.

“That’s what you always say,” Joel snorted, helping him up onto his feet. Dieter was a little wobbly still and cuddled into Joel’s side. He always got a little clingy after a scene, but Joel didn’t mind. As different as they were, Joel would probably consider Dieter one of his closest friends. It always worked in their favor, their natural chemistry and closeness coming through the cameras.

They were handed a couple towels and some water, the both of them taking them gratefully. Max came up to them, his usual shit-eating grin on his face. Joel always thought Max reminded him of a vampire, with that mischievous glint in his eye that always seemed to be there.

“Great show, boys,” Max started. “Dieter, d’you mind if I steal Joel away for a second?”

Dieter whined and clinged onto Joel tighter. Joel grinned and hugged him back. “Sorry, boss, looks like he ain’t leavin’ anytime soon.”

Max rolled his eyes, but continued anyway. “Fine. Meant to tell you earlier, but things got rolling, you know how it is–”

“What is it, Max?”

“You’ve got a scene with Javier tomorrow.”

If there were a record player anywhere, Joel would probably hear it scratching right about now. Dieter paused too, and looked up at Joel with worried eyes. He knew all about Joel’s crush, and was always telling Joel to just go for it. Joel froze briefly, but tried to school his emotions as best he could.

“O-okay, um. What time?” He asked shakily, gripping Dieter’s fluffy robe tighter.

“I’m thinking around noon? That way Javier can prepare, y’know?”

Preparing was always done before a particularly intense scene. Joel tried really hard not to think about Javier wearing a plug for a while before coming to set. 

“Right,” Joel nodded, cheeks going a little pink. “I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best, Joel!” Max snapped his fingers and walked off, talking to a couple of assistants. 

Dieter tapped on his chest and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You really gotta say something, Joel,” he said softly. 

Joel sighed and nodded. He knew that. 

He just didn’t know what.

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 12

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 13k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues, canon typical violence* Fluff, sass, flirting, it's a whole chapter of domestic fucking bliss as displayed by two people very horny for each other. Summary: Booted back to the States after the DEA puts him on notice, Javi runs into an unexpected and familiar face at his cousin's wedding. Notes: Next week will be the epilogue for Javi and his writer, and then we will be on to the next soulmate story! Thank you so much to everyone who came along on this journey with us. It really has been so fantastic. 🧡 As always, I apologize for any errors I might have missed in proofreading.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

There is no sinking, sick feeling like you expected. Only the knowledge that rolling over to dig out and light up a cigarette before talking will be something you share, skin to skin and heart to heart, with your soulmate.

"Alright." When you turn back into his side again you take a drag of the cigarette before handing it over to him. "Where do you want to start?"

Javi takes the cigarette and inhales slowly, eyes slipping closed as the nicotine rush hits him on the first puff. They can claim all they want to about cocaine, it’s not got shit on a cigarette. He holds it for a second before blowing it out. “I meant what I said.” He wants that written in stone, right now. “It’s not a heat of the moment thing, I love you.” He repeats softly, eyes opening and focusing on you.

"I've been in love with you since before I left to come home." You tell him softly, accepting the cigarette when he passes it back and embracing the intimacy of sharing it. "It hit me when I was living with you, actually..."

“When you were kidnapped.” Javi admits, watching as you take a slow drag off the cigarette and savor it just like he did. “I fucking nearly rubbed my - your tattoo raw, checking to make sure it was there.” His hand reaches for your thigh since you are still propped up and he squeezes it. “I didn’t think I needed to pile that onto you when you were so broken.”

"I needed to come home." That is an absolutely certainty. You needed to get away. To heal. And that never would have been possible if you had stayed in Colombia. "But I don't have the nightmares nearly as much anymore and I'm going a lot better. It's—it too a long time. But yes." Passing the cigarette back again, you have the good manners to look a little sheepish. "That's why I was so shitty while Elisa was around. I was jealous."

“Connie chewed my ass when she found out you were my soulmate.” Javi promises you. “I didn’t think that you cared at first. You were so adamant that our being soulmates was not an issue.” It had stung at the time, wounded his pride and hit at his ego. He had always expected his soulmate to swoon at his feet, or shit would be even easier than it was with most women. It was why he had bristled at the fact and inadvertently caused so much pain for both of you. He shrugs apologetically. “I’m an asshole.”

"I just don't think we were in the right place. Either of us." It's something that you've given a lot of thought over the years and you hope that that is abundantly obvious. "We were far too focused on our careers and couldn't see the forest for the trees. We didn't believe in balance." Sighing slightly, your eyes tick up again to find his and you bite your lip out of nerves. "I believe in balance now."

He chuckles quietly. “I don’t know if I have a job.” He reminds you. “But I know that I want you.” It’s something that has been obvious since the moment he saw you talking to Lorraine. You had appeared back in his life and he wasn’t going to waste a second chance. “What do you want?”

"You." This time you aren't hesitating. You aren't waiting and you aren't waffling. There is no path forward that doesn't include Javi now that he's back in your life. "Everything else is negotiable."

The cigarette is passed back to him and he flicks the ashes into the tray in the other side of the bed, twisting away from you for just a moment before he is facing you again. “We are settled on that.” He agrees, smiling softly in relief. “Now we just have to figure out six million little details.”

"Only six million?" You smirk at him and settle back against his chest again. "Piece of cake. Wanna start with the basics?"

“Which are?” He asks with a snort. “I’ve always thought two kids, but if you want more, I guess we can decide on a number.”

"Two is good." That smirk curls your whole mouth, turning your expression into a grin. "I was thinking more like...where are we going to live?"

“Well…shit.” He chuckles and the hand that isn’t stroking the little pooch of your stomach curls behind his head to prop it up. “That’s a good one. You want me to move to Rhode Island?” He asks. “I’m not too fond of the snow, but I’ll do it.”

"I at least want you to come up and meet my family." You bargain, turning your head so you don't blow smoke from your last drag back in his face. "If you get up there and decide winter is more horrifying than you expected, we can pivot and I'll come down here."

“Summer is shit here.” He points out, wanting to be honest. “It’s a million fucking degrees. So hot you don’t even want to fuck.”

"So it's either winter so cold you freeze when you try to fuck naked, or summer so hot you don't want to fuck at all." You snort in amusement. "Maybe we should move to the middle of California or something."

He curls his nose at that suggestion. “No California.” He huffs. “They are too fucking….Californian.” He doesn’t have a good reason to not like it, but he doesn’t. “Murphy said Miami wasn’t bad.”

"Hot and humid." Which sounds even better than hot on its own. "I don't know if there's a perfect solution, baby. We may just have to pick the one that has something we really love about it and deal with the bad parts that go with it."

“Texas is home for me and Rhode Island is home for you.” He muses. “So we just say fuck it and move to someplace we want.” He looks at you seriously. “Are you done writing? Permanently?”

"I'm done with journalism." That doesn't necessarily mean you'll never write again, but it means you won't be trotted out to rehash the most traumatic week of your life every single time anyone wants to talk to you. "Working in a kitchen has been good for keeping me busy, but I don't know if I want to do it forever."

“Why don’t you transition to a different avenue?” He asks seriously. “Your articles are better researched, plotted and presented than most books I’ve read.”

"I used to really like writing short stories." Tilting your head slightly lets you rest against him completely as you sink down under the blanket with him again and you shrug a little in his arms. "I could give it a shot. I can write in between restaurant shifts. It'll be easy enough to get a line cook job whereever we choose."

“If I don’t have a job with the DEA…” he sighs. “I’ve been offered a deputy position but I’m sure I could get on anywhere.” It doesn’t help make a decision, but he rocks you closer to his body. “But I should be able to support you if you wanted to do it full time.”

"Let's see if I can write anything good enough to actually sell." He's soft and warm and so comforting like this that you could just melt. "If you have a job offer here, let's stay here. There's plenty of restaurants in the area that I can work in for now, and your Pops is here."

“You would want to move here?” Javi’s surprised but he hums as he thinks about it. “There’s a little ranch down the road that’s about to go on the market.” He considers. “Owner died and it’s going through probate.”

“Didn’t we say once that Texans and New Englanders aren’t so different?” All of those early conversations with him are burned into your memory. Years later and you haven’t forgotten a single one of them. “I’m sure I’ll adjust in no time. Ranch, little house, whatever you think will work. You know this place far better than I do.”

“I think before we decide anything, I should probably visit your home, right?” He smirks slightly. “It would only be fair.” He wants to see where you grew up, meet your mother. Things that he had never really contemplated ever having to do, but now he is glad that you aren’t someone he’s known his entire life.

“It’s chilly but not snowy yet.” You promise him, smiling reflexively at the idea of bringing Javier home with you for a little bit. “Fall is the best time to see New England.”

He thinks about that for a moment and then nods. “When would be a good time for me to come?” He doesn’t ask if you want him to just come back with you, that might be too much.

“Well…” A soft laugh escapes you and your cheeks burn. “I’m going back on Monday morning. You could always come with me?”

“You would be okay with that?” His brow lifts in surprise. He had expected you to want to talk to your family first.

“I’ll call my mom tomorrow and let her know, but I don’t think she’ll mind.” You reach up to kiss him, reveling in the warmth of it. “She knows about you. My brothers…I didn’t want to talk about it much. But my mother knows.”

He winces slightly, knowing that by all rights, your mother should have a dismay opinion on him. “How bad should I expect it?” He tone is joking, but only slightly.

“She’ll be skeptical for about an hour after I hang up the phone with her, but if I’m happy then she’s happy.”

“If you want me to come with you on Monday, I’ll call the airline.” He promises, knowing that he owes you a lot more than just a potentially awkward first meeting with your mother. “What time is your flight?”

“Eleven in the morning.” Your eyes tick up to his, concern lining the edges of joy. “That’s not too soon? Too dramatic? We were literally just talking about where to live together and how many kids we want.”

“I’ll be on that flight.” He promises, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Just gotta make sure D.C. knows how to get ahold of me.”

“I’ll write down my phone number for you.” A promise, as silly as it is, that makes the thing seem all the more real. “I’ve been living with my mom again. It’s easier.”

“Would you rather I get a hotel room?” He asks. “I don’t want to impose.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you feel a little silly for it but you’re certain when you look back up at him. “I want to have you with me. We’ve wasted enough time apart.”

“You are staying here tonight.” He agrees. “Hopefully your brother won’t be worried about you. You left without saying anything.”

“I should probably call the hotel and leave a message,” you admit. “Michael is protective.”

Javi nods. “Do you want to go get your stuff?” He asks. “Or would you rather me stay at your hotel?”

“We can go get my stuff in the morning.” Right now all you care about is snuggling into his side. “I’ll call tonight but I just want to stay here with you.”

“You looked beautiful.” He murmurs softly. “Today. Everyday really, but you looked really beautiful today.”

“Not every day.” The tendency to deflect compliments is long ingrained, but from him they make your cheeks burn.

“Every day.” He repeats, not letting you even doubt that for a second. “You don’t see it? You have this…softness. Even when you have to be strong. A grace and kindness that is bone deep.”

“Softness has always been my issue,” you gripe, though you wave it away. “I’m just glad the diet is working. But…it’s very sweet of you.” Fucking hell you’re bad at taking compliments. “I always admired your resolve, honestly. And attention to detail. Even when it frustrated me it was still impressive.” That grin returns to your lips full force. “The broad shoulders and cut jaw line don’t hurt either.”

There’s a few inches of skin on your side that Javi pinches gently in his hand as he frowns at you playfully. “I love this softness.” He growls, leaning in and biting the bottom of your lip.

“I’m glad.” You laugh softly, never doubting that he means it. Not after everything. “Because two kids will mean plenty of softness.”

“That’s if you want to do that.” Javi says seriously. “If you don’t, I’ll understand.”

“Three always felt like my mom was chasing us.” You hate it but you have to sit up again. Calling Michael’s hotel before you sleep is nonnegotiable. “But being an only child sounds lovely. Two is good.”

“Compromise, is that what it sounds like?” Javi snorts. “You are the one that says how many kids you have.”

“Can I ask you something else?” It seems like the time, considering how honest and open you’re being with each other. And considering what you’ve already talked about tonight.

“You can ask me anything.” He promises, looking up at you. The cigarette is long since smoked, crushed out in the ashtray, but the intimacy and lingering closeness still hovers in the air.

“I just wondered.” It feels silly, but considering where you were today maybe it isn’t. “If you ever wanted to get married? Or if Lorraine spoiled that for you.”

He sighs softly, looking up at the ceiling while he thinks about what he wants to say. “I figured one day it would happen.” He admits. “I knew I should have been happy to marry her, back when I thought she was the one. But something never felt right and I twisted that into believing it wasn’t for me, but I thought I would eventually find someone.” He looks back at you and licks his lips. “But I’d marry you.” He nods.

“I’m not talking about a wedding.” Clarification seems important in this moment, even when the gentle affection in his expression is so real. “A marriage is a life together. A wedding? They’re nice but I don’t think they’re necessary.”

“You wouldn’t want something like today?” He asks curiously. “Family and friends?”

“Not if you wouldn’t enjoy it.” That is what matters to you most. A wedding is a great party but only if the couple both enjoy it when it happens. Otherwise it’s just parading around for a day in clothes you’ll only wear once. “I guess what I mean is that I never envisioned a big white wedding for myself so I wouldn’t be disappointed not to have it. What I care about is having a partner to spend my life with.”

“I don’t mind a wedding.” He has thought about that quite a bit, especially after one particularly vivid dream of you in a white dress. It had haunted him for weeks after having it and it was the closest he came to calling you after you left.

“That’s the road to getting my mother to love you.” It’s both the truth and a bit of teasing, and you don’t mind that. Not really. Not when you know that these conversations — this compromise — is a big and new step for the two of you. The two of you. As a couple. “You brought up kids first and you’re the one who wants a wedding. You’ll be her favorite son instantly.”

He snorts. “I’ll make sure that I bring that up.” He jokes, even though he will follow your lead on interacting with your mom. “Pop will love you. And he thinks it’s funny as hell that you are just as stubborn as me.”

“The universe decided it would be cruel to give us anything less than a taste of our own medicine.” A taste that you deal with a gentle, loving kiss. “I should call the hotel. Before I forget or get distracted by my soulmate some more.”

“You do that.” He smacks your ass when you start to get up and smirks when you whirl around and glare at him. “Got a phone on the dresser.” He points out. “Don’t even have to get dressed.”

“Helpful.” You send that smirk right back at him and shake your head, then cross his room to make the call. To your surprise, your brother actually picks up when the front desk transfers you to the room.

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” Your brother rushes out, obviously worried when he came back to the room to find you not there. “Why the hell did you leave without saying anything?”

“I’m so sorry.” Turning back to look at Javi, you cringe apologetically. “But I’m fine. I left with Javier.” The man himself is lying in bed watching you with hooded eyes and you bite your lip. “I’m gonna stay here tonight and come get my stuff from the hotel in the morning, okay?”

“Javier? The guy you were kissing on the dance floor?” His voice ticks up in surprise but he’s relieved that you are okay. You are a grown ass woman, but your time in Colombia and him coming so close to losing you had made him a little protective. “Some chick named Lorraine was going around telling people that he and you are soulmates.”

“We are, Mickey.” The childhood nickname has been on the shelf for a lot of years, but your voice softens with affection — both for him and for Javi. “I had no idea, but your buddy Danny is his cousin.”

If you could see his face, you would laugh at him and call him a fish, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “You— he’s your soulmate?” He asks, sure that he had misheard or you are yanking his chain. “Are you sure?”

"I'm sure." He must be in shock if he isn't teasing or needling you for details, but you can understand that. "Remember before the wedding, I told you he was from here? I wasn't specific. We're literally in his hometown."

“Jesus Christ, I didn’t put it together. I couldn’t imagine when you said Javier you meant Javier.” He frowns, trying to remember what the guy looks like, “He kind of looks like Burt Reynolds, right?”

You snort at the comparison but nod, not bothering to hide your giggles when you look right at Javier and agree. "Yeah, I guess he does kind of look like Burt Reynolds."

He rolls his eyes at you and flips you off, although there is a tiny edge of a smirk on his face. Burt Reynolds had done this pose on a bear skinned rug a few years ago, so Javi flips onto his side and cups his cock while he poses like Burt had while laying across the bed.

When you burst out laughing your brother grunts in confusion, and you have to dismiss it away quickly. "Nothing, nothing," you assure him through laughs. "Javi just flipped me off for the comparison." After a few seconds you calm down again, and shift the phone on your shoulder. "Listen, I'm...I'm gonna call Mom tomorrow. Javi's going to come home with us on Monday to meet her and see the old neighborhood."

“Wow.” He sounds impressed but he agrees. “Sure. I won’t say a word. I just came back to the hotel to change and check on you anyway. Be safe.” He tells you and then murmurs your name. “I love you.” He promises. “And I’m happy you are spending time with your soulmate.”

"I love you too, Mickey. Go have fun with your friends and we'll see you around noon tomorrow so you can sleep off whatever bullshit you get into with your buddies tonight." A round of good nights punctuate the phone call before you hang up and slide back across the room, ready to climb back in bed with Javier. "Lorraine was talking about us after we left," you tell him, smirking. "Everybody in Texas already knows we're soulmates, apparently."

He hadn’t expected anything less, but he shifts to sit up. “Does that upset you?” He asks. “Lorraine was probably trying to spin it, or claim some hand in us finding each other.”

"Baby, she can shout it from the rooftops and I'll just repeat it with pride." You climb onto the mattress and snuggle into his side happily. "I love you."

He softens, folding you against his side. His arm wraps around your back and hums happily. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He repeats back to you, feeling a long yearned for sense of peace as you lay with him.

******

"I know my mom is going to want to feed us as soon as we get back to the house but I swear I'm still full from breakfast." Groaning slightly as you get off the plane, you lean into Javi's side and sigh. Chucho had made you and the boys a big 'going away breakfast' before you left for the airport this morning and even though it was early, everything is bigger in Texas.

“I swear that I’ve never seen that man cook as much as he had for you.” Javi snorts as he shoulders the bag that you had wanted to bring on the plane. His own bag was checked along with your other bag. Guiding you towards the baggage claim.

"Dad used to do the same thing." Michael tells him, trailing just a pace or two behind. He pokes your shoulder and grins. "This one brings out the caretaking instinct in fathers."

“Pop was thrilled to meet her. And it’s been a long time since there was a woman in the house.” He smiles as he takes your hand. “He wanted to make a better impression than me.”

"I promised to take Polaroids while we're up here. He wants to see New England, too." Javier's father had taken to you immediately and without question, and you had relished the opportunity to warm up to your soulmate's father. "I think I'm going to put together a Rhode Island care package to bring to him when we go back to Texas."

“He would love that.” He had enjoyed watching his father fuss over you and how you had responded to the fatherly presence. It had been a long time since Chucho had someone to fuss over and you both seemed to enjoy it. “The man loves gifts, no matter how much he protests.”

“I am not above bribing my future father-in-law for his affection,” you half-joke, though just the sentence makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“You don’t have to bribe him.” Javi promises. “He might have already put you in his will and written me out.” He had laughed when he had seen how thrilled Chucho was with you, although it had choked him up when the older man had pointed out how like his mother you are.

"Makes sense." The grin on your face is unapologetic, and you keep close to Javi's side as Michael goes hunting up and down the conveyor belt to find his own suitcase. "My mother will love you that much, too. We're just trading parental affection."

He chuckles. “He does know the luggage will come to us, right?” He asks, watching your brother in amusement.

“Impatience is a family trait,” you tell him, entirely unphased by Michael’s unnecessary pursuit. You’re used to it by now.

“I’m not even that bad.” Javi snorts and rolls his eyes. The past couple of days have included both interrogation by your brother and teasing. He hadn’t had the heart to tell the Marine that he’s done more intense interrogations than he would ever dream of.

Leaning into his side again, you put one arm around Javi’s waist and kiss his cheek. “The most patient thing anyone in our family has ever done was the years I waited to see you again.”

“Then I don’t know if I’m impressed or insulted now.” He teases, smirking when you pout at him and lean in to press his lips to yours.

“Be impressed.” You murmur, grinning against his lips when your brother clears his throat.

Javi glances over your shoulder, still kissing you and he smirks when he sees the way he’s shifting uncomfortably. Like it’s strange that you are kissing someone.

"Okay, I'm gonna go find Mom." He says finally, when he has shifted his feet enough times to catch Javier looking at him and knows he's being intentionally needled at.

Reluctantly pulling away from your soulmate, you snag your suitcase that has somehow appeared at your feet — Michael's searching probably — and thread your fingers through Javier's. "We'll all go, don't get your tighty-whities in a twist."

Javi spies his own bag and grabs it, throwing it over his shoulder. “We’re all set.” He promises, shrugging slightly at your brother.

"She said she'd be at arrivals with the car. We should be able to find her easily." You might walk a little faster out of enthusiasm, but that's alright. Your mother was already talking about what she was going to cook to welcome Javier to the family before you hung up the phone with her yesterday.

It’s amusing that you are almost outpacing him, picking up speed and he has to shuffle a little faster to keep up with you. “Excited?”

"Maybe." And you aren't apologetic for it in the least, inhaling the cool autumn air the second you walk out the door between the two men. It only takes a second of scanning the curb full of parked cars to spot your mother and you tug Javier in her direction immediately. "Mom!" She's parked almost all the way down, so you wave and hustle along with Javier and Michael laughing behind you.

Your mother looks like you, or – you look like her. Both of you falling into the hug like it’s been years rather than days since you’ve last laid eyes on each other. “Are they always like this?” He asks Michael.

"Yeah." Your brother nods, shifting his bag to his other hand. "Since she got back, anyway."

Javi sighs softly, knowing that some of that is his fault and he tries to not let the pang of guilt bring down the mood in this first meeting.

There is whispering between you and your mother, but it only takes a few moments before you step back and your mother is walking out toward the two men like a woman on a mission. Without a single second of hesitation, she wraps Javier up in a welcoming hug and holds on tight. "I'm glad to finally meet you." She says close to his ear, because there is no other place for her to speak.

He is surprised by the warm greeting, but his own arms lock around her and he hugs her back. “It’s my pleasure.” He promises. “You have one hell of a daughter.”

"Don't I know it." There is a smile on her face when she draws back, but her hands stay on Javier's shoulders and seriousness in her eyes. "Thank you for making sure she came home to me safely. From the bottom of my heart."

“I was going to at least give her that.” He hums. “Even if we weren’t together then, she was important to me. Her safety was important, and her happiness.”

"Okay, guys..." Wiping away a bit of silent water from under your eyes, you basically flail your hands at your mother and soulmate to urge them to save this heartfelt moment for someplace more private. "Maybe we should go back to the house? Before I get all choked up over here."

Your mom agrees and pulls back and reaches for the handle of your bag, but Javier shakes his head. “I’ve got it.” He insists.

"She said you were a gentleman." Your mother beams. "Come on, guys. Everybody pile in, I've got a lasagna in the oven and your Uncle Carmie dropped off wine last night."

He follows your lead and trails after you as you walk beside your mom, already chatting intensely and it’s interesting to see how open you are with her.

You pile into the backseat with Javier and let your brother sit up front, returning to that new habit you’ve found of leaning into his side whenever you are next to your soulmate. “The drive isn’t long,” you promise him, bucking your seatbelt just before your mother pulls into traffic. “Nothing is too far apart here.”

“That doesn’t bother me.” He has lived in cities and on the ranch where the earnest neighbor was three miles away. Both of them have their pros and cons and he is adaptable. If you wanted to live here, he would grumble when he shoveled snow but he would do it. Couldn’t be much different from shoveling manure.

“The old joke is that if you have to drive more than a half an hour in Rhode Island, that’s a day trip and you have to pack a lunch,” your mother jokes from the front seat. “I imagine Texas is a different animal altogether.”

He snorts. “You can drive all day and still not be out of the state.” He tells you. “If you only drive half an hour, it’s just a quick trip to town.”

“Exactly.” Your mother laughs, putting her attention back on the road. “We’re the smallest state with the biggest attitude.”

“I’m learning that.” Javi hums, winking at you and then looking back out the window.

******

It really doesn't take long to get home again, and you give Javi the complete-if-brief tour of your house ending in your bedroom. It's a huge relief now that you've redecorated since high school. Javi did not need to see all your old heartthrob posters up on the walls.

“She seemed to like me.” He sets your bag down and puts his own beside it, looking around your room. Honestly a little surprised that he has been put with you, he had expected to sleep in a guest room and have to sneak into your bed.

"That's because I was honest with her about the fact that I wouldn't have survived the kidnapping if you hadn't worked your ass off to find me." You take a second to dig out a sweater for an extra layer before tucking yourself into his side, but the warmth from him is better than the sweater you found anyway. "I figured we could tell her the rest together. But she knows you saved my life, Javi. Nothing could make her not like you after that."

"You would have survived." Javi is sure of that now. He might have been a hair's breath away from unravelling then, but now he is completely sure of the fact that you would have found some way to escape. "I know you would have. You are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"Who knows what would have happened." Exploring the possibilities was important in therapy, but the fact is that he did save you, and you will forever be grateful to him for that. "What matters is that we're both here now."

“We are here.” He smirks. “In your childhood bedroom.” He will definitely be making a few fantasies that he’s entertained since planning this trip come to life.

“That doing something for you, hermoso?” The twist of his lips and raise of his eyebrow isn’t just teasing anymore. You know that look now. It’s a promise.

“Have you ever fucked in here?” He asks, voice dipping down lower, something he’s discovered makes you wet. His arms slide around your back and his groin presses firmly into you. “Or have you just fingered that pretty cunt in this bed?”

“Fuck, Javi—” You have to swallow the rest of your groan so you don’t get carried away, but your arms are up around his neck instantly and you all but purr in his arms. Squirming has the added benefit of rubbing your torso against him and you grin when his smirk flickers in arousal. “No, I haven’t fucked in here yet. You offering?”

“’Course I am.” He snorts, making his cock twitch on purpose. “We can unpack later.”

“Defiling my childhood innocence first thing?” The leering look in his eyes is tinged with sweet affection, though, which makes you grin. “I like it.”

He chuckles, tilting his head to press his lips to yours, enjoying that soft welcome that comes every time. You lean into him, want him just as badly as he wants you and it’s quickly becoming his new obsession.

It’s not more than ten minutes from start to finish, but you’re panting and giggly, wrapped around him when he pulls you back into his arms after wrecking both of you with seemingly little effort. “That’s how long it takes to unpack, right?” You snicker, stealing more kisses before you bother to get redressed.

“Didn’t see you complaining.” He huffs, but he’s grinning back at you. “Sometimes quickies are the best kind of fucking.”

“I would not complain.” One more kiss and you have to pull up your pants, otherwise you’ll just drag him into that bed again. “If I ever complain, take me to a doctor because I’ve been body-swapped.”

“That would be a damned shame too.” He reaches out and slaps your ass playfully. “Happen to like this body, and the attitude that’s in it. When she’s not yelling at me.” He teases, winking at you with a smirk.

"I haven't yelled at you once in the last few days." You smirk, returning the ass smack with a sharp crack of your hand and that has both of you raising impressed eyebrows. "Screaming your name is different."

“You can scream my name as loud as you need to, sweetheart.” Javi chuckles and waggles his eyebrows playfully. The past few days have been filled with lighthearted banter and teasing, making him feel younger than he has in years.

“Later.” It’s a promise. Set in stone. And you toss him a wink before getting redressed. “We should go back down, cariño. I think I finally burned off enough of what your dad fed us for breakfast to be hungry for lunch.”

“Then let’s go get something to eat.” He agrees, holding out his hand for you to take. He likes touching you, loves it actually. It’s reassuring and calming for him to touch you. It’s like the part of him that he didn’t know was aching while you were gone is now soothed and repaired when his fingers caress your skin.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” In the doorway of your old room, holding hands with your soulmate, you bite your lip out of nerves.

“You can ask me anything.” The lightheartedness has morphed into something sober, but he doesn’t waver, holding your gaze.

“If you don’t want to have the conversations with my family about marriage or kids or the big future things, it’s totally fine. Everything has happened really fast. So if you only want to tell them about moving to be together, that’s okay with me.” It’s not exactly a question, the way you phrased it, but the thought tumbles out without editing and you hold tight to his hand for certainty. You’re not trying to wiggle out of anything, but rather saying that you’ll take things at his pace.

“Baby,” Javi turns towards you and he caresses your face with his free hand, still holding tight to your other one. “I’ll answer any question that they want to ask.” He promises. “Most of them are yours to answer anyway.” He reminds you. “You decide when you want to get married, or be pregnant.”

"I just don't want you to feel rushed. Or pressured." You clarify, leaning into his chest to hug him tight.

“I’ve had my entire life to wait for this moment.” He assures you. “I’m not feeling rushed, sweetheart. I think we need to be right here.”

"I love you." More than you thought you could. More than you ever expected to. So much that it feels like it's filling up your chest and you hope it never stops.

******

"There you two are." Your mother has the entire table filled with food when you come downstairs, exactly as you predicted, and you give Javi's hand a squeeze as if told say 'I told you so'.

"Sorry, I was showing Javi some old photos after we unpacked," you lie, neatly brushing away the extra time you were upstairs. And making a mental note to show him some high school photos later.

"Hmmmm." The sound that she makes is one of amused disbelief but she doesn't call you out directly. Instead, she motions towards the seats. "Come on, let's eat." She insists.

"So this is what it takes to get you to make lasagna, huh?" Instead of lingering on the question or her obvious disbelief, you trend straight toward teasing — as is your entire family's custom. "One of your kids has to bring home their soulmate to make it happen?"

“Figured it was as good a time as any.” She swats at you playfully and looks towards Javier. “Do you drink wine?”

"Uncle Carmie's homemade basement hooch is an acquired taste, Ma," you laugh, but reach to grab the bottle from the counter anyway before you sit down. "Try some of mine, babe. If you like it, then pour a glass for yourself."

“We made bathtub hooch in high school.” Javi snorts, looking at the bottle and pouring himself some instead of trying yours like you suggested. If he doesn’t like it, he’ll just have the one glass.

"Brave man." Michael snorts, already digging into lunch and bypassing the salad bowl to serve himself a large slice of lasagna. "That shit will put hair on your chest."

"Language, Michael." Your mother warns. "We have a guest.”

Javi chuckles. “I’ve said worse things.” He promises her. “Nothing he says will surprise me.”

"I didn't raise my babies to be crass." She insists, luckily paying more attention to passing the plate of garlic bread than she is to your face and missing the doubtful expression to shoot Javi and your brother. "So, Javier, what an unexpected weekend!"

“It has been surprising,” he admits, looking over at you with a small smile. “But I don’t think that it’s been unwelcome for either one of us.”

"Not at all." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. "It feels very...meant to be."

“I honestly don’t know if I would have had the nerve to call her if she hadn’t shown up at the wedding.” He tells your mother honestly.

"I think it's very sweet that you found each other again by accident." Once everyone is served, only then does your mother tuck in. The four of you have plenty of space at the big, round dinner table but it doesn't feel like you're far apart or that the table is crowded. It just feels comfortable. "The powers that be knew it was time to nudge you back together."

Javi looks down at the meal as been dished up, it looks delicious. “Thank you.” He tells her. “It looks amazing. Your daughter is also one hell of a chef so I know this will be great.”

“She takes after her father.” Your mother beams at that. “I do my best, but she’s got his talent.”

The praise is kind, but you shrug slightly and fork up a perfect bite before throwing Javi a grin. “Chucho promised to teach me Southern cooking, so I’m combining Dad powers.”

“Dad has all of my mom’s recipes.” Javi explains. “Although most of them haven’t been used since she got sick.”

“It can be hard to reopen those old memories. Food carries such nostalgia.” Your mother smiles gently, having known already from your stories about your soulmate that he had lost his mother years ago. “I’m sure she would be proud, just like my husband would be, to see her recipes handed down to the next generation.”

“She would have loved your daughter.” Javi snorts, looking over at you with a fond smile. “And encouraged you to give me hell at every opportunity.”

"That she gets from me," your mother laughs, grinning as you and your brother just shake your heads and continue to eat.

"We figured out early on that Texas stubborn and New England stubborn are pretty similar," you tell her when you finish your bite. "Which is why we butted heads early on. I'm glad we got that phase out of the way early on."

“I’m sure that there will be plenty of head butting left.” Javi has no illusions that life together would be a walk in the park. Neither one of you are built that way.

"Of course." That is the more realistic way of approaching it, you're just feeling really good about the situation right now and it's making you feel rosy. "But at least we'll talk to each other when that happens now. Instead of stonewalling or just getting mad."

“That’s right.” He nods and winks at you before looking back at your mother. “I know you have a lot of questions for me.”

“I might.” She laughs though, appreciating the acknowledgment, and then laughs again when you wave your hand to tell her to go ahead. “Well,” she sips her wine and considers the man at her table. He’s older than you but not by too terribly much. Certainly handsome, but looks as though he has been through a lot. Like the edges of his smile are etched with concern that it might all be too fleeting. Poor dear. He needs a partner. “Have the two of you talked about how you’re going to manage this yet?” She asks, motioning between the two of you.

“To be completely honest….” Javi glances back at you and then looks towards your mother again as he taps the table. “I’m not sure where I stand professionally.” He admits, knowing that it wouldn’t help him get in your mother’s good graces, but it’s the truth. “I am waiting to hear from Washington.”

“Basically, Mom?” You set your fork down for a moment and offer Javi a reassuring smile. “We’re talking about living together being the next step, but we won’t know where until Javi hears from work.”

“I see.” She wonders what he might have done, but she doesn’t ask. “And hopefully there will be a guest bedroom wherever this might be for visitors?”

“Of course.” She isn’t being immediately critical or insistent that you move near her, so you’re ready to agree to just about anything. “No matter where we end up, there will be space for guests.”

“Good.” She will have to be satisfied with that. And hopefully with Javier being in trouble at his job, that will mean that he won’t go back to Colombia. Although, why would he? Escobar is dead.

“There’s no way to do it easily,” you point out to your mother gently. “With both of our families being so far apart.”

“I understand.” She might have broken down crying after the phone call, both in relief that you have been reunited with your soulmate and the fear of losing you again. She won’t tell you that. For too long you had tried to pretend Javier hadn’t existed and that Colombia was a bad dream, now you look happy. She’s not doing to put a damper on that for anything in the world.

“It’s alright, Ma.” Michael jokes, trying to relieve the tension at the table. “Your boys are still homebodies.”

“You never would leave if you wouldn’t get thrown in the brig.” She huffs at her son, but she is happy for how much they love their home.

You glance over at Javi, squeezing his knee under the table in silent question, and smile again when he returns your query with a little nod. Just like upstairs, he reassures you that it's okay to tell. To share the things you've talked about. "If we end up anywhere without four seasons, we're going to have to come home for the holidays at least a few times," you tell your mother, unable to suppress any of the warmth and joy in your expression. "I know you won't let your grandkids go without at least a few white Christmases."

“Babies?” Her eyes widen dramatically and she lights up like a Christmas tree herself. “You’re talking kids?”

There is the excitement you knew was lurking beneath the surface. You know it will be bittersweet for her to have you leave again, but good things are looming in the future. "Not right away," you caution her, but can't help grinning along with your mother. "But yes. We're talking about kids."

“You will make such beautiful babies together.” She sighs happily, emotional and even having to wipe away a stray tear.

"You pressed the grandma button." Michael snorts and helps himself to a second piece of lasagna. "But that means I get to be the favorite uncle, right?" He eyes Javier and raises one eyebrow. "Do you have any brothers, Jav?"

“No.” It’s unusual but he shakes his head. “I’m an only child.” He admits with a sigh. “My parents had a lot of loss early on in pregnancies. So after mama gave birth to me, they decided they were done. Pop didn’t want to risk her health.”

“Which makes perfect sense.” You squeeze his hand gently on top of the table, fingers tucked into fingers, as if that little gesture could possibly tell him that he is enough. That his family is just the right size as it is. “Our kids will already have two ridiculous uncles. That is plenty.”

“I never felt alone.” He tells you quietly. “Too many cousins for that.” He knows you will feel a little sad for him, but you shouldn’t.

“I know, cariño.” His childhood was different from yours, which doesn’t make it better or worse in any way. It just makes it different. “And if you ever catch me implying that it was, just remind me that you have more cousins than I do.”

He smiles at you, understanding completely and reaches for his glass to take a sip of the wine.

“Will there…” Your mother clears her throat in that pointed way only parents can. “Be a wedding, before there are babies? That’s the old fashioned order, I’m told.”

“Unless there’s a change in plan.” He has to admire how blunt your mother is. “My father would beat me black and blue if it was the other way.”

“Glad your father and I are on the same page.” She hums, smirking with something like victory.

He cuts his eyes over at you and gives you an amused look, very aware of the plans your mother is already making. “So we were thinking of eloping.” He announces, just to see what she would say.

The unceremonious squawk that comes out of her mouth is pure shock, you know that, but the way her jaw hits the floor and her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates has you bursting out laughing and all but clinging to Javi’s arm to jerk from falling out of your chair.

“Calm down, Mom,” you wheeze through laughter. “He’s fucking with you.”

Javi chuckles and shrugs. “She bet me twenty dollars I wouldn’t tell you that.” Michael thinks it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard and slaps Javi on the shoulder.

“I’ll buy you dinner.” You huff, rolling your eyes at him but glad that the boys are entertaining each other.

“You cannot elope.” Your mother gasps and Javi wonders if she actually heard you say it was a joke or if she was too busy having an aneurism. “We aren’t.” He promises. “We will do it right.”

“Javi wants to have a wedding.” Offering up that information seems so important now that you practically hand it to your mother on a platter. “We won’t elope, we promise.”

“I’ve had one failed trip to the altar.” He admits, being honest with your mother seems like a good thing to do. Especially since you and her are close. “My ex-fiancée tricked me into thinking we were soulmates. I found out the night before the wedding.” He sighs. “It put me off of the idea for a long time, but I want to marry your daughter.”

“Is this…” Your mother looks at you curiously.

“The woman telling everyone about us now? Yeah.” You shrug to Javi. “I told her about meeting Lorraine on the phone.”

“She’s been around for a long time.” Javi sighs. “Small town life and all.”

“Oh, I know all about that.” Your mother nods as if she suddenly understands the situation perfectly. “My sister-in-law is the queen of small town gossip. Up here at least. They would probably be dangerous together.”

“I don’t mind people knowing.” Javi shrugs again. “So I didn’t try to keep her from running her mouth.”

"No, it's definintely not a secret." Not anymore. Not this time around. Not when you've well and truly learned your lesson about keeping your mouth shut when you care about someone. You will never abstain from telling Javi you love him again. "I'd shout it from the rooftops here and in Texas."

Javi chuckles and smirks at you. “Really? From the rooftops?”

His challenge only makes you grin and you nod emphatically. “Pick some rooftops if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you.” He promises. “But I don’t think it’s necessary. I know you love me. And I’d do anything for you.”

“I’m glad we agree.” You murmur, leaning over at the table to kiss him softly. The smallest, gentlest show of affection that actually means so much. The fact that you’ve learned to be gentle with each other is huge. It shows how far you’ve come, and so quickly too.

******

“Javier, uh, there’s a call for you.” The statement comes with a little bit of bewilderment, and Javi looks at you as he leans forward, unfolding his arm from where it was lying behind you on the couch. “Okay.” He stands up quickly, aware that two people have this number, his father and the secretary for the director of the DEA. Either way, a call for him has to be important.

Your mother has set down the telephone on the nearby kitchen counter in order to come into the living room where the television is on, and she sits down in her armchair on your other side when you don't get up to follow Javier into the kitchen immediately.

"Did it sound official?" You ask, wondering if Chucho is alright or if the calls he's been waiting for from Washington has finally come through.

“It was a woman.” She frowns slightly and glances back towards the kitchen. “Like a secretary or something.”

"His hearing." Sinking slightly in your seat seems like a reasonable reaction, but a moment later you're pushing off the couch to stand. "If it were his dad, you would still be in there chatting long distance. A secretary means the call is from Washington."

Javi turns as you walk into the kitchen, still listening as he motions you forward. “Wednesday at thirteen hundred.” He confirms, frowning slightly when he realizes that it will eat into his visit with your family. He will have to get the train to D.C. tomorrow to make sure he’s there on time. “Yes. Thank you.”

He opens one arm to let you close when he hangs up the phone, and you immediately slip to his side. "Wednesday." You repeat the day and tuck yourself in tight beside him. "I'll call and get out train tickets if you want to go pack."

He sighs softly, resting his cheek against yours and feeling a little nervous. He knows that they should fire him, but he doesn’t want to end his career with the DEA like this. “Do you want to come with me?”

"Of course I'm coming." There was never a doubt or question in your mind. "I'm not going to make you face this alone, baby. Especially not when you did it for me."

“Even if I am fired, I still have no regrets.” Javi promises, dropping a kiss on your lips gently.

"If you're fired then we'll go back to Texas with our heads held high, and you'll take that deputy job." You promise him, savoring that kiss and that promise like a lifeline. "I'm with you no matter what."

“No matter what.” It might be surprising to him, something he’s still accepting and getting used to, but he takes comfort in it. No matter what, he will have you.

******

"How long do you think we'll have to wait for them to deliberate?" Waiting outside the hearing room to be called back in feels like waiting for a death sentence, but you sit with your hands under your thighs and try not to fidget in your most-presentable office dress while Javi paces up and down the hallway.

Sighing, he resists the urge to rub his hand through his hair and ruin it. It’s already been hard enough to resist having a cigarette. Fuck, he needs one. “The rest of my life.” He growls, glancing back at the door impatiently.

"At least we're on the same page." You agree, sighing outwardly and silently wishing for the same two things as him — an answer and a cigarette.

He glances back at you on his next pass down the hallway and sees you playing with your skirt. Walking over to the chair beside you and dropping down into it with a heavy huff. “Whatever happens, I’m not going to apologize for what I did.” He reminds you. “Kissing ass isn’t my style.”

"I don't expect you to apologize." No, you know him better than that. And you know the bastards in the government better than that, too. "I just wish I could go in there and start throwing punches at the assholes who preside over all the bullshit bureaucracy while they make everybody else do the dirty work."

“Fucking bastards.” He grunts, glancing back at the door again. “I should tell them to kiss my ass.”

"Aw, c'mon." You squeeze his hand, aiming a lurid grin at him to try to distract him for even a second. "That's my job."

He snorts and shakes his head. “You haven’t done it yet.” He points out, smirking slightly.

Glad that your strategy worked even for a second, you wink and blow him a kiss. "Tonight," you promise, glossing it in a sultry tone that makes both of you laugh.

The door to the room opens and Javi’s face immediately shifts into something serious. Whipping his head around to watch as a bureaucrat in a well-cut suit and a fresh haircut sticks his head out. “Peña,” he calls. “We’re ready for you.”

You squeeze his hand tightly before letting go so he can straighten, and silently curse the whole bullshit process one more time as he disappears behind the hearing room door. You aren't allowed in there despite having played a role in the whole thing, and so you're stuck outside listening at the door for at least a little bit longer.

Javi sees a panel of five in front of him and he knows that it’s not good. He’s rubbed some the wrong way, especially since Messina is one of the five. He had ignored her orders more than once in the pursuit of Escobar.

It's a bureaucratic lecture as much as a hearing. A spanking laced with backhanded compliments. It's a clusterfuck of blame gaming and backpedaling. It's the kind of bullshit that would have had you snapping at someone if you were in here with him so he is belatedly glad that you have to wait outside.

Right up until those few magic words: "Agent Peña, how much do you know about the Cali Cartel?"

******

An hour later, Javier opens the door, stepping back out onto the hall with a slightly stunned expression on his face.

"What happened?" He doesn't look upset, but you still shoot up out of your seat instantly.

He had been looking down at the file in his hand and when you say something, he looks up at you. Suddenly wondering if this might be too much for you. “I— got a promotion.” He manages.

"What?" Your jaw drops and eyebrows shoot up to your hairline.

He rocks his jaw for a moment and steps over to you. Frowning slightly. “I shouldn’t take it.” He murmurs quietly, hearing the door open behind him and the panel file out of the room, chattering to themselves.

"Do you want to take it?" It seems ludicrously obvious to you that he should take it, in fact, but Javi is not always a straightforward man.

“More than anything, but….” He sighs softly and reaches up to cup your cheeks. “I’ll walk away if you want me to.”

"Why the hell would I want you to do that?"

“I have been made station chief of Bogotá, Colombia.” He reveals softly. “Tasked with taking down the Gentlemen of Cali.”

"Shit." It feels for a second like you've been kicked in the chest by Chucho's work horse, but the swirling confusion around you settles to a sting in mere moments. "So...we're going back?"

He sees the panic that races across your face, the fear flashing in your eyes. He wants this. He wants to prove that he can do it, that he can complete his mission and take them down, but he won’t do it at your expense. “Not if you don’t want to.” It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you to stay behind, but he knows you will reject that idea completely.

It takes a long second, but when you rest your hand on his wrist and feel the warmth of him flood you — the safety of him — you remember how to breathe. "I won't do anything stupid this time," you promise him without a hint of sarcasm or teasing. "If you say I need security, I need security. And I'm not taking any shitty jobs in dodgy parts of town."

“Are you sure?” He worries and it shows in his eyes, not caring that his superiors see him with you like this. They know the connection – now – and it’s already been determine that he would have secure housing for you and him. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to make yourself go if you can’t.” As badly as he wants this, he would never make you relive that time.

“I love you, too.” That is what he’s saying. Through the worry and the negotiation, he’s saying how much he cares, and that means the world to you. So you take a deep breath. “Escobar is dead. Whatever the new threat is…I know you can deal with it. And I’d rather try and go with you than just hide in my fear forever. If it’s too much, I’ll come back to the States and we’ll rack up a hell of a long distance bill.”

“Okay.” He watches you closely, looking for any hesitation. “We’ll be staying in a high security building.”

“I’m proud of you.” It’s so important that he know that. That he understands this is a huge victory and that you don’t let it be overshadowed by what happened years ago. “You’ve worked your ass off and you deserve the recognition.”

“We’ll see.” He snorts. “It’s more responsibility, and I’ll be more hands off.” That part will drive him crazy, not leading the investigation himself.

"You'll have office hours?" It sounds almost entirely foreign coming from a man you know used to burn the candle at every available end. "And I would be waiting for you at home...how very Donna Reed of us."

He chuckles. “Well you can always work on those family recipes and go get your hair done and have lunch.” He shrugs. “Whatever the wives do.”

"Maybe that's the first book. A family cookbook." You laugh slightly, in disbelief at how ordinary it sounds. "So when do we leave?"

Javi grimaces slight and bites his lip. “A week?” He asks. “They wanted me to leave in two days but I told them I needed a week.”

"Okay." That gets a nod from you, and you grasp his hands tightly. "We'll get train tickets to go back to Rhode Island tonight and I'll pack up, then we'll fly back to Laredo so you can pack, too? See Chucho again for a few days and then we'll fly back to Colombia from Texas?"

“That works for me if it works for you.” He hums, wondering if you are putting on a brave face or if you are just this strong.

"I'll look up Inez after we get settled." You decide, grateful for a moment to lean against him when he opens up one arm to let you into his orbit. He's worried. You know that. And you're worried too. But it took until the prospect of being apart from him again to realize that the bond between you is a hell of a lot stronger than your fear. "We'll make it work."

He almost asks if you will see about finding Vanessa and Freckles, but he doesn’t. He can’t ask that question, not right now. He nods. “It would be good for you to have someone.” He murmurs.

“I’ll do my best to make friends with the other wives,” you promise, but you know it might be futile. You’re probably going to struggle with the traditional role expected of you, but you’ll get the important things right. Being there to support him is the most important part. “There’s…no chance Steve and Connie will be there with us, I guess?”

“They are in Miami.” He tells you, shaking his head. “Family is there and they have Olivia.”

“Yeah.” It was a long shot and you knew that, so you just nod. “I didn’t think so. That’s okay. They earned their rest. You still have some serious ass to kick.” A warm, soft, fierce smile curves up the corners of your mouth, etched with pride and determination. This may not be your fight from the outside, but you have some personal demons who need to get squashed in the process.

******

“Sweetheart?” The man who would never pass up a chance to eye a beautiful woman barely looks at the young stewardess as she asks if there’s anything else he needs after delivering his drink. Glancing over at you to make sure you haven’t changed your mind about just wanting water. “Anything else?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.” At some point later you might ask for a snack but right now your water and the window seat are plenty enough.

“We’re good.” He turns back towards the slightly miffed looking woman with a nod, but doesn’t smile at her as he dismisses her.

You huff a laugh under your breath as she walks away and settle your hand over his knee in the tiny airplane seats. “You bruised her ego. Poor thing wanted to flirt.”

“Huh?” His brow furrows in confusion and he frowns as he tries to understand what you are talking about. Until he catches the woman moving out of the corner of his eye and glances over. “Oh. No.” He shakes his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“How was she supposed to know that?” You ask with a small grin. Commitment is a very sexy look on him.

He glances back at you, aware that you are teasing him and he shifts in his seat. He’s had time to think about a lot of things. Going back to Colombia is chance for him to prove himself, in more ways than one. “I – uh, I know that I’ve been— uh, a slut.” He grimaces slightly at the term, but it’s the truth. “But even Lorraine would tell you that I never— when we were together – I didn’t cheat.”

“Javi…” His choice of term does makes you crack a grin, but you still face him in your seat and take this moment as seriously as he is in giving it to you. “To be honest? It never even crossed my mind that you might. You were both a bit slutty before.” In Colombia, at least. You haven’t been since meeting him. “And now we’re committed. It’s a brave new world of monogamy for both of us.”

It’s like he releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the relief is nearly physical. He wouldn’t blame you if he couldn’t satisfy your needs, it would honestly be kind of a fitting punishment for everything he’s done, but when you say monogamy he knows you mean it. “Yeah it is.” He nods.

“We can do it.” Seeing the relief on his face is almost like seeing it on your own, and you laugh a little and lower your voice. “We both have high sex drives. I’ll just come into the office so we can fuck on your lunch break.”

“Too bad you don’t still have that skirt you wore the first day I met you.” Now that that larger than imagined weight is off his chest, he smirks at you. Still imagining how you would have looked back then bent over his desk.

"I can easily get a new pencil skirt." In fact, now that you've lost a bit of weight, it will be that much easier to find nice things. "Should be a piece of cake now."

He frowns again and reaches for your hand. “The original was fucking sexy.” He promises. “I thought about bending you over my desk and didn’t know your name.”

The reassurance is sweet, and welcome, but you lean over to press a chaste kiss to his lips and grin. "And now you actually get to do it."

“Too bad it’s a full flight.” He chuckles. “Otherwise I might haul you into the bathroom on this tin can.”

"Save it." You nudge your nose against his. "We have a new apartment to christen."

“About that.” Javi shrugs slightly. “Station chief has its perks.” He tells you. “We are in penthouse accommodations. Views of the entire city.”

“Very fancy.” He’s told you about a few perks so far, including the fact that they’ve apparently assigned him a driver that you know he won’t use. Javi’s preference is always to drive himself — even visiting your family you gave directions from the passenger seat. “No jogging up three flights of stairs this time.”

“Thank fucking god.” Javi groans, leaning back in his seat. “I’m getting too old for that shit.”

"Just wait until it's kids we're running after." You sit back with him, grin still spread across your face. "That's a hell of a lot more running, cariño."

“Fuck.” He hisses. “Do you think those little assholes will run across rooftops too?”

"Not until they're older." Your laugh turns full and amused, but you link your fingers through his and smile. "I have a feeling at least one of them will grow up to be a stubborn badass like their dad."

“Fuck.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “I’ve never told anyone this….and I’ll deny I said shit— but I don’t like heights.”

"Well." Fingers squeezing his, you nudge his shoulder and grin. "Then I won't ask you to fuck me against the penthouse windows. Don't need you looking down and getting scared."

“Oh no, fuck that.” His eyes shoot open and he glares at you. “That’s happening.” He huffs. “I mean I don’t like running across a roof when I have don’t know if I’m going to fall through the mother fucker and kill myself. I’ll definitely fuck you against the window.”

You smother a snort, knowing that that comment would get to him but glad to see the fire in his eyes regardless. "I'm looking forward to it."

He huffs at you, fully aware that you had baited him and he had fallen for it. Cutting his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink, he passes it to you automatically after he swallows.

"Don't be sour." He's ordered a whiskey from the stewardess and the sip you take burns pleasantly on its way down before you hand it back. "It's my only penthouse-related fantasy. I just wanted to make sure it sounded good to you, too."

“I’m not sour.” He promises after a moment. “Do you want to read the file too?” He has no intention of leaving you out of anything.

"Am I allowed to?" It hadn't occurred to you that it would be permitted, what with government red tape and all.

“Yeah.” He nods as he reaches down and pulls the file out of his briefcase. “I’ve already told them you will be read in.” He shrugs. “They don’t care since you are my soulmate.”

"I guess that saves us from having to worry about talking shop at home." Although you have to wonder if they would still be so blase if you were still employed as a journalist. Probably not. Which is fair.

“They knew I was going to do it anyway.” He admits shamelessly. “Nothing that could possibly put you in danger will be kept from you.”

"Who knows." You shrug. The flight is just beginning and you settle in for the few hours it will take to get to your layover in Mexico City. "Maybe I'll be able to help? I guess we'll find out."

******

The keys rattle in the door before it swings open, revealing Javi. Carrying his suit jacket and another box of files, he shuffles into the house and closes the door behind him. He’s later than he said he would be, and he feels guilty when he smells dinner, obviously waiting on him. Hopefully you got sick of waiting for him and went ahead and ate. “I’m home.” He calls out.

"I'm in the kitchen!" When you heard the door you had hopped up from the dinner table to throw dinner back into the oven and you stretch your aching muscles by reaching for two glasses and the whiskey bottle as he drags himself in looking haggard. "Hey baby."

“Hey.” He’s frustrated and tired, but he shoots you a half smile, aware that you will understand that. “Sorry. I got caught up.” It’s not an excuse, but at least you didn’t have to call him to find out where he was – this time.

"I figured, so I put your portion of baked pasta in a separate baker. I just put it in the oven. C'mere and let me hug you." Your arms come around him once he puts the files down on the counter, holding him against you and letting the relatively simple act of holding him evolve naturally as it always does — into a deep kiss.

Javi leans into you, unable to articulate how much he has needed you and appreciated you being here this time. He has the physical connection he needs, the emotional one just as important and he can confide in you. Pour his worries out and he knows that you would never betray him. Being the station chief in charge of this ordeal has been far more difficult than he had even imagined and it seems like no one but him and his agents want the gentlemen of Cali behind bars.

"So you brought home some weekend reading?" You prompt, after he's melted into your arms and is limply hugging you back like he does on his hardest days.

“I honestly don’t know if I can fucking do this.” He sighs, pulling back and looking at you with a weary expression. “We are being stonewalled.”

"Of course you can do this." A little self-doubt is understandable, though, and you lead him over to the table to let him flop into a chair while you go back for the glasses and whiskey. "If this was going to be easy they could have had anyone sitting in your office just napping the day away. But they asked you. They asked the man that they knew could push through the hardest days and the pull the hardest punches." You set the glasses down beside him and pour both to join him. "We've been here almost a year, Jav. We're just barely cracking the surface. The whole thing getting hard as hell right before you find a crack in the case...it's annoying as fuck but it makes sense."

He snorts, even though you are right. “It’s almost annoying how good you are at this.” He grumbles, nodding his thanks for the drink and pulling you down into his lap.

"I'd like to think I've had a little practice by now," you admit, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Just like you've learned how to talk me down from my word count panics when I don't think I'm getting enough written to really count as a writer."

“Your book is going to be amazing.” When he needs a break from reports or the bullshit that comes with this case, he’s been reading your progressing first draft of your novel. Giving you his honest feedback and never complaining when you make him re-read a slightly changed chapter over and over again.

"I'm going to claw my way into the mystery genre with my bare hands." The two of you share a small laugh, another kiss, and a sip from the same glass before you lean your forehead against his gently. "Happy anniversary, by the way."

“Anniversary?” His brows furrow in confusion and his heart skips a beat with worry that he’s fucked up something bad.

"It's been four years since we met the first time." It isn't the anniversary of when you got together, or of when you first started living together, or any of the other things. But something small, and silly, and just for you. "It's not big, but it's worth marking."

“Oh shit.” He relaxes slightly and his fingers caress your side gently. “Yeah, it’s been four years.” In some ways, it seems like a lifetime ago, so much has changed.” That makes him think of something. “Did you ever send that letter to Helena?”

"I got back a postcard today." There is no need to hop up from his lap, thankfully, and instead you reach across the table to slide the glossy card out from under your notebook and hand it to him. "She's getting married. Apparently her soulmate was in the States the whole time. But she promises to write us a longer letter when they're back from their honeymoon in a few weeks."

“That’s good.” Probably the best news he’s heard in a long time and he picks up the card to look at the neat handwriting. “She deserves happiness.”

"She does." You can agree to that wholeheartedly. "I'm glad she found it."

He hums and leans in, pressing his face into your neck and breathing you in. “Just like we’ve found it.” He murmurs softly. “We should get married.”

"You gotta propose first, hermoso." It might only be a gentle tease, but you grin as you wrap your arms around his shoulders to hold him close. "Then I can say yes and we can get to planning."

Sitting in his button up shirt, his tie askew, Javier reaches into his pocket and pulls out the ring that he had taken out of the box earlier to inspect and shoved in his pants when Stetchner had come into his office uninvited. “You want me to get down on one knee?” He asks, holding it up for you to see. “Figured we could elope and not tell your mom. Let her plan the wedding and we just show up.”

"Javi!" The surprise of seeing an actual ring in his hand has you nearly falling off his lap but you hold on even tighter out of shock, just like thoughts start tumbling out of your mouth like they do when you get surprised. "No you don't need to get—did you really—how long have you been carrying that around for?"

“Picked it up two weeks ago?” He had been trying to think of something romantic, something fitting for your proposal, but everything seemed overkill. He showed you he loved you everyday, with the little things, not with overly elaborate proposals that could mean shit if he didn’t really want to commit. But right now seems like the right time. A very honest moment between the two of you.

"It's perfect." The ring, the moment — him — all of it. It's a standstill moment in time that could never have been manufactured and never could be duplicated. It's just for the two of you and it's perfect. You swoop in, needing to kiss him right now more than you need air.

He takes the kiss, easily, happily. Wrapping his arm around you and still holding up the ring, he lets the kiss drag on for a long minute before he pulls back with a smirk. “Is that a yes then?”

"Hell yes that's a yes." A giddy laugh bubbles out of you, and you can't help but steal one more, infinitely more chaste, kiss. "As soon as you want. We'll have to run back to the States for a weekend to actually have the wedding, but I'll let Mom plan whatever she wants and she'll be ecstatic."

“I thought you would like that.” The party is more of what Javier wants. The celebration. He doesn’t care if it’s in a church, although he’s sure that’s where it will be. And you will have already been married for however long planning the wedding takes, so you will get your way with wanting a marriage. “I love you, sweetheart.” He promises softly. “It’s fitting that our story started here and this is where we will make it forever.”

"I love you, too." He slides the ring onto your finger with satisfied pride and you don't bother blinking away the press of happy tears behind your eyes. They don't fall, you don't blubber, they're just there. Reminding you that the pounding of your heart is just as real as this moment. "I can't wait for whatever comes next."

------

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