#pickled-Peña

[trulybetty]

Pickled Peña | Resolutions

Prompts: pickles, resolutions & "You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?" Pairing: Javi P. x gn!reader Word Count: 1,041 Warnings: alcohol, hangovers, smoking, resolutions & maybe some angst? oh, and pickles if you hadn't worked that one out 😋 - oh, and author has watched like four episodes of Narcos and copious amounts of gifs! Summary: you had one resolution for the new year, yet somehow you managed break it before the new year could even really start AO3: Linked Masterlist: check out @pickled-pena for the full masterlist of entries 🥒

A/N: this is my entry for the first @pickled-pena challenge. The rules were simple, use all of the three prompts, a minimum of 500 words and have fun with it. If you want to join in on the fun, you have the month of January to post your entries. Head over to @pickled-pena for more information or feel free to reach out!

You blinked against the harsh sunlight streaming through the window, the remnants of last night's celebrations lingering like the dust in the air that could be seen in the streaks of light. You'd ended up in Javi's bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, a testament to the chaos of the evening before. 

You groaned, you couldn’t remember much of what happened once you’d made it back to to his place. You tried to focus enough to look at the hands of your watch, but at that moment it was proving difficult without inciting a further pounding to your head.

What you could remember though was that it was January 1st, 1999, because last night you’d attended a New Year's party hosted by Javi’s cousin.

The house was silent and still, as if it were taking in a deep breath after the milestone of another year gone by.

With two failed attempts at getting out of bed, on the third you successfully swung your legs over the side, your feet sinking into the artificial shag of the carpet. You scrunched your feet, feeling the fibres tickle between your toes. The dark cherry hardwood panelling lined all four walls, only broken up by the sun-faded buttercup yellow curtains that framed the small window across the room.

The room, and the house encompassing it, were frozen in the fifties, the last time the home’s decor had received any attention. 

Managing to pull yourself up you found the woollen sweater you’d had on the night before and after some searching managed to find your leggings on the other side of the room. The rest of your belongings had been strewn about the house in a pathway that led from the front door to the door of Javi’s room.

Stepping out of the bedroom to the living room, you were grateful the curtains were still pulled. The smell of coffee had you shuffling to the kitchen, pausing only momentarily to pull the crocheted afghan from the back of the sofa around your shoulders. The patchwork of colours was almost too bright in the light of the headache that had moved behind your eyes. You just hoped it’d stave off the cold that had settled in the house. 

The kitchen tiles were cool under your feet, and had you bouncing on the balls of your feet. The cold too much coming off of the carpeted living room. You poured yourself a steaming cup of coffee. It was strong and black, the bitter aroma wrapped around you like a familiar embrace.

With the chipped mug cupped between your hands, you slipped on your boots and stepped outside. The air was chilly and the blanket wasn’t enough to stave off the cold, but it felt refreshing in your hungover state. Though very much a stark contrast to the warmth of Javi’s bed you’d left behind.

Shielding your eyes from the morning sun there he was at the edge of the property, where the land stretched out to rolling hills. He was leant against the fence, the one he and his father had built the week before, a cigarette dangling from his lips. There was an aura of peace about him that you couldn’t help but gravitate towards.

If he knew you were there, he didn’t make it known. Only acknowledging you with a brief nod when you handed him your coffee to hop up onto the fence before taking it back to fill your hands with the warmth it held.

Exchanging a look between the two of you, you accepted the silent offer of a drag from his cigarette. The smoke filled your lungs, a familiar burn that didn’t quite hide the taste of last night's mistakes.

“I broke my resolution already,” you said, the words floating out with the smoke from your lips.

Javi turned to you, a question in his eyes. “What was that?”

“That I wouldn't sleep with you again.”

You don’t know when he’d gotten that much closer, the heat of his body was in contrast to the chill of the morning. He nuzzled your jaw with his nose, a gesture so typical of him that it tightened something in your chest. “Why's that?” he asks, his voice a gentle rumble.

“You know why, Javi,” you reply, the reminder bitter on your tongue.

He smiled, a flash of teeth and mischief. “That was last year.”

“We got back here at 2 am, Javi. Hardly a new leaf turned.”

His chuckle was soft, almost lost to the wind that rustled through the trees. “Things got fuzzy after those shots.”

You both fall silent, the ridiculousness of last night's concoction making you grimace. “Who told Leslie-Ann that mixing pickle juice with tequila was a good thing?”

Javi just laughed, the sound echoing in the crisp morning air, as if the absurdity of the concoction was a fitting tribute to the absurdity of resolutions—and maybe, to the unpredictable nature of the relationship between the two of you.

He moved closer, the look in his eyes a mix of warmth and something a little more earnest. His hand found yours, fingers entwining as if they always belonged together. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that held the soft promise of the new year. It was a kiss that spoke of the years gone by, of the turbulent history shared, and the magnetic pull that kept drawing the two of you back to each other.

The kiss broke, leaving you both slightly breathless. You looked up at him, your eyes locking with his as you steadied your voice, “You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?”

Javi's eyes softened, the playful edge giving way to sincerity, “I was right by your side sweetheart, making the same foolish decision as you to drink that shit.”

The intensity of his gaze held you captive, his words holding a deeper meaning tethering you to the spot. You felt the weight of the unspoken feelings between you, the years of near-misses and what-ifs crystallizing into a single, fragile moment under that New Year's sky.

[lady-bess]

Getting In A Pickle

My entry for the @pickled-pena Writing Challenge!

Javier Peña x F!Reader

Mature/18+ (swearing, drinking, sex referenced). Minors DNI.

Words: 4k

"The making of your new year's resolution takes a turn when Javier agrees to accept the one you made for him. There is one condition though...".

Notable tags: New Year's Resolution, First Kiss, Drinking, Fluff, Soft Javier Peña.

A03 Link: Getting In A Pickle - LadyBess - Narcos (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

New Year’s Eve, 1992.

Steve sighed, and with a grunt he stood from his chair and went over to the corner of the office. You and Javi looked up from the stack of papers in front of you, desperate to take any form of distraction right now. Paperwork was never fun, but on new year’s eve? It was bullshit.

“What are you doing?” Javi asked Steve, who by now was delving into a metal filing cabinet. The strap of his watch banged against the aluminium drawer as he reached right to the back, muttering some curse words under his breath. By now you had set your pen and reading glasses down on the table, far more intrigued as to the happenings of the corner of the office than whatever report you were currently working on.

“Tryna find something to make this evening a little less painful, Javi. That good with you?” Steve said, his arm still bent into the back of the drawer. The room was dim under the orange desk lamps, and as Steve and Javi conversed you looked over at the younger of your colleagues. His dark brown hair looked almost black in the low lighting, and the warm hue emanating from the desks made the colour of his eyes look like the most rich and warming glass of rum. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t harbouring a huge crush on Javier by now, having worked in such close proximity to him for years. You had hoped that tonight, on new year’s eve, that the two of you would be working together alone.

But no. Steve, as always, worked himself just as hard as everyone else in the department, and decided to help take off some of the pressure from Javi and yourself. It was a kind gesture, and you were forever grateful for Murphy, but just this once you really wanted him to leave.

“Sure, Steve. But is the answer in the back of that filing cabinet?” Javi asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. His forearm muscles flexed as he shifted in his seat, and the material of his black shirt pulled slightly across his chest in the new position. You hated how fucking attractive that was, just seeing how taut his clothing got from how he was built, shaped by years working in this job.

Javier turned his head and grinned at you as a giggle left your lips at his sarcastic remark, enjoying how your smile lit up the room instantly – just as it always did. Your eyes locked with his and lingered just a few seconds, verging on the edge of staring, before both of you turned to look at whatever Steve was wrestling with. Any outsider would be able to see that the both of you were wrestling with how you felt for one another, but neither of you quite had the balls to face up to that just yet. In a way Steve inadvertently became quite the useful distraction.

“Very funny, Javi- aha!” he exclaimed, smiling wide as he caught hold of whatever he was looking for. A moment later he pulled his arm out the back of the drawer, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, half full and with the label on the front beginning to peel – evidence of the bottle’s secret existence and overuse as plain as can be. “This might help!” he said, heading back over to the desk.

“Certainly better than working the entire evening. Wasn’t how I expected to spend new year’s eve, but hey, it’s the nature of the beast I suppose,” you shrugged, welcoming the alcoholic intervention for this evening. Javi chuckled at you before sitting back up, leaning forward in his seat to lean onto the desk.

“You can say that twice,” he agreed, “Steve, have we got any glasses?” he asked, but Steve shook his head.

“Afraid not, just dirty coffee cups. We’ll be swigging from the same bottle, but it’s better than being sober, right?” he offered, sitting back down at the desk and unscrewing the cap on the bottle. It was cheap whiskey, the kind you kept in an office drawer because it didn’t matter if your supervisor found it and threw it away. It wouldn’t be too strong, it probably tasted like piss, but Steve had a point. It beat being sober.

He handed the bottle to you first, and you took a gulp of it. The whiskey burnt on the way down, and it was not a pleasant burning either. You were used to whiskey since befriending Javier, it being his drink of choice whenever you all went out for drinks, but he had far better taste than this. Warmth was what you had been associating whiskey with up to now, but this was not that. You grimaced, and just about held back a cough as you handed the bottle to Javier, who was doing his best to stifle a laugh at you.

Yeah, it tasted like piss.

Javier took the bottle from you, his fingers delicately grazing the back of your hand as you passed it over. Your eyes caught his, again, and he gave you a small smirk as you looked at him. Butterflies swirled in your stomach as you saw a look on Javier that you’d never recognised before, one which was not becoming of the confident womanizer that you’d come to know; bashful, coy, and, perhaps, nervous?

“Thanks,” Javier said, snapping you out of the little spiral your mind had sent you down, wondering why he looked at you like that. Had you said something to upset him? Was he just tired?

You nodded, withdrawing your hand and smiling at him. You certainly weren’t in a rush to have another sip of the whiskey, so you settled back into your seat, allowing the men to pass the bottle between themselves for a couple of moments.

“So, you got any new year’s resolutions?” Steve asked, loosening his tie as he relaxed with the two of you.

“What kind of fucking hillbilly you take me for?” Javi chuckled, taking another sip of the whiskey. “No, I don’t have any resolutions. Does anyone even bother with them nowadays?”.

“Hey, I have one!” you said, playfully slapping Javi’s arm in mock anger. His eyes widened as he looked at where your hand hit his arm, and then he leant back in his seat again, resuming his arms-crossed position. The expression on his face had again changed, but this time to utter disbelief.

“Go on, what is it?” Steve asked, a grin forming on his face. You winked at Javier, then turned to Steve.

“I want to get Javi to try pickles,” you giggled. He scoffed, rolling his eyes, and you turned back to look at him.

“Oh, you and those fucking pickles. It’s like a love affair you’ve got for the damn things!” Javi said.

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t sure when you developed such a taste for them, but at some point you did, and it was like a switch flicked in you. Now a midday snack could consist of half a jar of them, easily. It disgusted most people you knew, which you expected, but Javier seemed to hate them the most.

“Yeah, I ain’t trying them!” he said. You pouted, leaning forward to grab the whiskey and take a second sip. You’d tricked yourself into thinking it wasn’t as bad as you remembered.

You were wrong.

The liquid burnt on the way down, again, and you winced. Both men laughed softly under their breath at you, but neither mocked you really. You were still handling the drink, and even they could admit that this was cheap stuff that certainly wasn’t to everyone’s taste. Javi kept his eyes fixed on you, awaiting a response he was almost certain to be a sassy little remark. He loved teasing you, and the two of you would verbally taunt one another in ways he had never experienced with other women. You sat back in your seat and looked over at him, your stomach flipping slightly when you saw Javier already staring at you.

“Come on, just once? You never try new things! Javi, you’re so stuck in your ways I doubt you’ve tried anything new for years!” you said, chuckling slightly as his eyes went wider and his mouth dropped open a little. Steve laughed at your comment, fully agreeing with you - Javier was nothing if not stubborn and set in his ways.

“I do – you’re just never there to witness it! Like last month, when I tried a different kind of coffee but you couldn’t even be bothered to come with me to the canteen. You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?” he remarked, and you rolled your eyes. This was so Javier.

“You’re so dramatic, Javi!” you laughed, and at the sound of you laughing Javier smiled wide. His eyes crinkled up as he listened to you, loving the beautiful sound that filled the room. Steve clocked the way his friend was looking at you and shook his head softly, chuckling to himself.

Why could neither of you see it?

“Can you guys not have a fucking domestic here?” Steve commented, taunting you both. You turned your head to look at Steve, furrowing your brow slightly.

“How could we have a domestic, Murphy?” you laughed.

“Look, you’re not together, I’m aware of that. But you act like an old married couple eighty percent of the time. It’s exhausting. Just kiss, for the love of God,” Steve chuckled, swigging another mouthful of whiskey.

You felt a little taken aback by his comment, not realising that this is what other people thought of when they saw you and Javi interact with one another. Sure, there’d been flirting here and there, but for a long time now you’d brushed it off as just being something Javier did with all women. You certainly were not naïve to the tales of his ways with women, how he had a reputation for having his fair share of sexual partners. But that didn’t seem enough to stop you developing the most painful crush on him, even if deep down you knew he’d never feel the same way about you.

Until…

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be against a kiss,” Javier said, winking at you when your head snapped back round to look at him. You were wondering if you’d misheard him, or vastly misinterpreted his idea of a sick joke.  

“Absolutely not!” you laughed, nervously, trying to play down your obvious bewilderment.

“Oh, come off it. You know you want to,” Steve teased, smirking over at the two of you. He’d watched this surface level crush develop in you both right from the start of working together, and had expected by now one of you to have made a move. You and Javi might have been too stupid to notice how the other one felt, but Steve seemed to see everything. You sighed.

“Alright, maybe curiosity has gotten the better of me once or twice. Can’t blame me for being a little curious, given what I hear about you and your ways with women,” you giggled, trying to use laughter to hide your immediately crimson red cheeks which burnt at the admission. You might have only had a couple sips, but clearly a small tipple and Steve’s provoking was all you needed to be a little bold.

Javier smirked at you, and in that moment his mind raced as to how he could actually get a kiss from you without being so bold to just simply ask. But then, you threw him a lifeline. Feeling a little bold, and now that the cat was out the back, you gave him an offer.

“Okay, how about this. You try a pickle, and I’ll give you a kiss,” you offered, biting your lip softly as a momentary silence filled the room. It might have only been present for a second, but it felt like a lifetime.  

“The damn pickles? Are you serious?” he scoffed, chuckling under his breath, “You know I hate them!”.

“Yeah, even I’m with Javi, I don’t know how you get through a jar of them a week as a snack. Rancid things,” Steve laughed. You laughed with them both, although in that moment you felt a little stupid to have suggested such an offer. Maybe you’d got things twisted, perhaps he was making a joke; maybe you were naïve. But the whiskey in your system gave you just enough confidence that you weren’t going to let those thoughts win just yet. Maybe he was all of those things, and if you were sober you’d have shut the fuck up already. But you weren’t, and something was niggling at you, telling you that you weren’t being crazy here. Like deep down, you somehow knew, he wanted the same.

“Shut up, both of you. Look, Javi, it’s a sweet deal. You get a kiss for just eating something. Hey, it could even go towards your trying something new things!” you joked.

“I want the record to show that was you who implied I don’t try new shit,” Javier chuckled. “But alright. You got a deal,” he said, smiling at you.

Your heart felt like it skipped a beat. Sure, this was just some silly little bet, a very bizarre take on new year’s resolutions. But you’d had this crush on Javier for so long, you’d take any excuse to try and get a kiss out of him.

For Javier, it was the easiest ‘yes’ of his life. But, like you, he’d never known how to bring up the idea of being intimate with you. You were his closest friend, and he loved the banter that the two of you had developed since working together – he’d hate for anything to ruin that. But as he watched you rise from your seat to head to the small fridge in the opposite corner in the room, all those thoughts were quelled. He sat up in his seat, nervously anticipating the next series of events. He wasn’t lying, he really did hate pickles. But if this was his ‘in’ with you, he’d take it.

Steve smiled to himself at Javier’s change in disposition. Neither of you were paying any attention to him anymore, you’d fallen into your own little bubble. Like both of you were so wrapped up in what would happen over the next few minutes that the whole world fell apart around you, and the only thing you could focus on was each other.

You pulled out your jar of pickles from the communal fridge. They were the only item you felt safe leaving in there, and genuinely nobody other than yourself (and one colleague who’d been pregnant recently) ate them. Javier had shifted in his seat by the time you got back, and as you sat next to him he outstretched his hand to take the jar from you.

Watching him open the jar felt like you were watching someone disarm a bomb. Neither you nor Steve moved, both of you intently watching as the cap of the jar clicked, and he unscrewed it.

“Just one?” he asked, and you nodded. He smiled, nodding himself at the confirmation (a little relieved you didn’t want him to eat any more than that), and then set the jar down so he could pull a single pickle out from the juice in which they sat.

Javier grimaced slightly as he watched the pickle juice roll off the side of the pickle, dripping back into the jar. He waited for it to lose some more of its juice before pulling it away from the jar, deciding to himself that if he was putting himself through this, he’d do it on his terms.

The pickle itself wasn’t all that large, and as Javier looked at it through baited breath he decided that the best way to do this was to get it over with as fast as possible. Once it was slightly dryer, he ripped the pickle in half to make it a more manageable size, and then put both halves in his mouth at once. He closed his eyes as he bit down on the pickle, the juices inside of it exploding in his mouth in the most unpleasant way possible. He really did not understand how you did this daily.

Steve was almost beside himself laughing at Javier’s face as he watched his fellow colleague struggle through chewing the pickle. He clearly hated every second of it, but not once did he gag, wretch, or threaten to spit it out (something Steve knew he’d do if he’d been given this ultimatum).

Javier kept chewing, getting the pieces small enough to comfortably swallow without overdoing it and actually tasting the pickle for more than what was absolutely necessary. You giggled as you watched him grimace one last time, his eyes screwed up at the taste, and then he gulped. He shuddered once his mouth was empty of the wretched thing, opened his eyes to look at you and then dropped his mouth open for you to see it had all gone.

“Oh my god you actually did it,” Steve said. Javi grinned at his friend, then turned back to you.

“What can I say? I want that kiss,” he chuckled. Your stomach did a little backflip at his words, not quite believing he really could want that from you, even in spite of the pickle eating performance you’d just witnessed from him. You felt nerves rise within you, a slight shake in your hand making itself known to you (but fortunately not obvious to anyone else).

It was now or never.  

“I won’t lie, I’m impressed at your dedication,” you said, then turned to Murphy, “Steve, respectfully, get out”, you chuckled.

“Yes ma’am!” he said, hopping out his seat and heading to the door, a grin on his face as he gave you both a mock salute before leaving. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, and in a way that helped ease the nerves. Turning to Javier, he was already fixed on you, a soft smile on his face as he leaned forward in his chair towards you.  

“You know we don’t have to do this, you know? I was only pulling your leg,” Javi said, gently patting your thigh with his hand. The contact on your leg made you shudder, his hand coming down with absurd strength even for such a gentle movement. You smiled at him, his warm expression making you realise he wasn’t trying to back out of this, he just wanted you to be happy with this agreement.  

“I know,” you said, edging closer towards Javi, your hands resting on your lap. “But I want to. If you do?”.

“Oh, I’m so down,” he chuckled, placing a hand over yours. You smiled to yourself, looking down at how gently he caressed your soft skin, the warmth from his hands seeping through and comforting your nerves more than he perhaps realised he was doing.

“Good,” you said, leaning forward and catching his lips in a soft kiss, not wanting to waste any more time. Javier kissed you back softly, his free hand traversing up to cradle your jaw gently, making sure he got to keep you locked to him a little longer than just a peck. Everything he’d ever wanted was right here in the palm of his hands, and he didn’t want to let go of it anytime soon.

It was Javier who deepened the kiss, his lips pressing against yours with a little more force, the tips of his fingers pressing down slightly harder to keep you in place. Not that you were going anywhere.

You held the hand he had rested on your lap a little harder as you opened your mouth for him, letting him kiss you however he wanted. You’d take anything, and were happy to receive whatever he wanted to give. His mustache tickled your upper lip slightly as he took the access you’d granted, dipping his tongue into your mouth.

You let out a soft hum at the feeling of Javier exploring your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours, the taste of whiskey and pickles mixing together in a delightfully disgusting combination. You didn’t mind one iota, but you figured Javier was probably not the biggest fan, and would be reaching for a swig of that awful whiskey as soon as he could to wash away the taste of pickles.

A small chuckle vibrated in your chest at the thought, but not once did you let up on this kiss. You got bold, your hands reaching forward to touch him more, to let him know that this was everything you wanted and more. Javier never broke contact with your lips, maintaining his assault on your mouth as he shifted out of his seat. His arm dropped to your waist, grabbing you and hoisting you out your chair so that your body was flush with his. You giggled in between kisses, not stopping him at any point, instead pressing yourself to him even more. Your hands traversed his broad chest, landing around his neck, and Javier smiled against your lips at the feeling of need he sensed in you.

He knew he should stop soon, or else he swore he’d probably end up putting you on the desk and fucking your brains out. He’d wanted that privilege for so long, but right here and now wasn’t the place. Besides, you weren’t someone he wanted to treat how he did so many other women – you weren’t a quick, easy, hookup. You were his friend, a woman he respected so much, and never wanted to see hurt. It wouldn’t be right to do this any other way than to try and date you, instead.

He broke the kiss softly, his movements becoming less aggressive until eventually he detached himself from you. Your heated breathe mixed between the narrow space between your lips, and both of you laughed to yourselves, slightly in disbelief that you’d really finally taken that step. Javier rested his forehead against yours, still keeping you close to him, even if you were no longer tongue tied with one another.

“Your breath stinks of pickles,” you teased, grinning at Javier who chuckled at your comment.

“Yeah? And who’s to blame for that then?” he said, not letting you get away with teasing him like that.

“Hey, I didn’t force you to eat the pickle,” you winked. Javier laughed louder, moving to pull you in for a proper hug. You held him in your arms as both of his wrapped around your waist, holding you tight, and his head rested in the crook of your neck.

“No, but you sure did make the terms of this resolution appealing,” he smiled. “Say, have I got to eat a pickle every time I want a kiss?” he joked, making you laugh.

“No, Javi, you don’t,” you said, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “Consider that payment for any future kisses you may want,” you said.

“Good,” he said, smiling at you as he leant back in to kiss you anew.

It wasn’t the stereotypical midnight kiss you used to hope you’d get at least once in your life, having never bothered with the tradition before now, but in a way this was so much more special than that could have ever been. Even if he did taste like a goddamn pickle, which was less appealing than you thought it would be given your love for them.

Happy New Year!

[pickled-pena]

🥒The Pickled-Peña Masterlist in all it's salty brine glory!🥒

Thank you to everyone who took part in this super fun challenge! You're all amazing!

☝️If you missed the January 1st deadline, not to worry, you can still submit your story until 31st Jan. Please use the tag #PickleTrickle so we can find those coming in at a later date so we can add your work to this masterlist.

☝🏻Please be sure to show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work.

⚠️ Please check out all warnings/triggers on the individual stories themselves.

Happy reading Pickled-Peña Friends! 🥒💛

💛 In no particular order, please enjoy the wide selection of pickles...

🥒Landslide - @frenchiereading

🥒Pickles, Peppers & Photos - @undercoverpena

🥒Toast - @secretelephanttattoo

🥒Pickled Interruptions - @avastrasposts

🥒In A Pickle - @inept-the-magnificent

🥒These Foolish Things Remind Me Of You - @maggiemayhemnj

🥒Chucho's Magic Pickles - @nerdieforpedro

🥒Javier Peña The Pickle Thief - @connectioneverywhere

🥒Good Impression - @pedroshotwifey

🥒More - @toomanystoriessolittletime

🥒A Cup Of Kindness Yet - @ladamedusoif

🥒Resolutions - @trulybetty

🥒A Bear Of A Night - @rhoorl

🥒Old Acquaintance - @alwaysbethewest

🥒Aisle Seven - @goodwithcheese

🥒Save The Last Dance - @linzels-blog

🥒Getting In A Pickle - @ladybess-a03

🥒Close Up The Hole In My Vein - @imalrightllama

🥒For The Record - @drabbles-mc

🥒Happy New Year - @djarinmuse

🥒Holsters, Lies & Videotape - @sin-djarin

🥒Break My Heart - @megamindsecretlair

🥒Prepping For Parents - @musings-of-a-rose

🥒Bailando - @lwfics

🥒More fics to be added as they trickle in! If yours is missing, please let us know!

🥒All Roads Lead To A Jar Of Pickles - @mrsjavierpena

Special thanks to @trulybetty & @musings-of-a-rose for the banners/graphics. 💛

[avastrasposts]

Pickled Interruptions - a Pickled Peña Production

Hello!

As you've probably seen, we've been gearing up for a writing challenge these past few weeks - Pickled Peña! A brain child of some of my lovely friends here on Tumblr. Anyone who joins in will be added to the Pickled Peña Master List over at @pickled-pena and I cannot wait to see what everyone comes up with based on the prompts that were randomly selected.

Below the cut is my contribution. I ended up using an OFC I created for another fandom but there's no need for prior information about her to read this fic. I just wanted to bring her out to play again because she's such a firecracker and would give Peña a challenge.

There are no warnings for this fic, it's just a bit of spicy fluff, mentions of pickles, sticky floors and Peña's half hard dick because...you know...

“Daniels! No fucking pickles in the vodka orange!” Eve snapped at the new bartender on her shift as she grabbed a pair of tongs and picked the sad, floating cucumber from the orange juice. 

“Who the hell even hired you?” she growled at him as he shrugged and slid the drink over to the disgruntled looking patron on the other side of the bar. 

Eve sighed and went back to serving her side of the bar, keeping an eye on him from the corner of her eye. It was New Year's Eve, the busiest night of the year in any decent club but instead of making drinks and getting big tips, she was now babysitting the dumbass newbie. The imbecile further down the bar had been hired just yesterday to cover for a skinny kid, Lenny, who’d suddenly called in and claimed he had a broken leg. 

And she could see why Daniels had been hired, the cluster of women surrounding his section of the bar made it very evident. The man was undeniably good looking, his broad shoulders and narrow hips emphasized by the uniform worn by all the bartenders at the club, tight fitting black slacks, a white shirt open at the neck, rolled up sleeves and a black vest. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t say she was tempted, but she pulled her eyes away from his butt as he bent down to pick up a tumbler he’d dropped. It was a very good butt, but she had a job to do, and she could see almost every woman, and some of the men, stare at it when he turned around to grab whiskey from the top shelf. 

“Daniels!” she yelled, making him jump and almost drop the five hundred dollar bottle of bourbon he’d just grabbed. “We do not put JD Gold Medal in a fucking Jack and Coke,” she hissed at him as she took the bottle from his hand, “get a fucking grip, regular JD is just fine.” 

“Yes, boss,” he replied, grabbing the right bottle this time, pouring a much too generous measure into the glass as Eve rolled her eyes. 

“Put this back on the shelf when you’re done,” she snapped, “Considering your name I really thought you’d know more about Jack Daniels, Jack Daniels,” she scoffed at him and went back to her section of the bar.  

Javier Peña seethed under his breath as he poured the Coke into the glass, trying to remember his bartending crash course from two days ago. Who’s stupid fucking idea had it been to give him the alias Jack-fucking-Daniels? This last minute undercover thing was dicey as fuck as it was, even if was just to be reconnaissance to figure out when the next drug shipment this club was a front for would come in. He just needed to get a look at the office in the back, but so far the bossy know-it-all they’d stuck him with at the bar had gone back there herself every time something was needed from storage. 

He glanced over at her, she was leaning over the counter, smiling at some clearly drunk blonde guy, the open buttons of her white shirt straining against her cleavage, giving the man a perfect view. And he was taking advantage of it, not even attempting to hide the way he was staring at her breasts. But judging by the generous tip he gave her when she passed him his drink, it had been worth it. And he had to give it to her, she had the looks to make all the men at the bar hang on to her every movement as she swiftly made their drinks. He had noticed that most of the men were on her side of the bar, and the women on his side. He didn’t mind, he just wished he was as fast as her when it came to making drinks. He fucking hated having to ask her for instructions, her barely contained eye rolls becoming more and more pronounced the further the night went. But she was right, he wouldn’t have fucking hired himself either, the only drink he knew was whiskey, neat. 

Javier had tried flirting with Eve, hoping to get some information from her while she showed him where everything was in the bar before opening on his first night the day before. 

“The ice is here, it usually needs to be refilled once a night if it’s busy. The big ice machine is next to the storage room out back,” she thumbed behind her to the door, “but I’ll handle that. You just keep the patrons happy for now.” 

“How about keeping you happy,” he smiled, wiping his thumb over his bottom lip, “I don’t mind carrying the heavy stuff for you, cariño.” 

“Yeah, thanks, I can handle myself,” she snorted, turning away from him and nudging the bar fridge with the toe of her shoe, “This is where we keep any garnishes for the cocktails, we’ll need to cut up some more during the night so keep an eye on how much we have left.” 

“So, you’ve been doing this long? You seem to know your way around a bar,” he asked as he leaned on the counter next to her, making sure he was down on her level as he smiled, reaching up to tuck a strand of her copper red hair behind her ear. She swatted away his hand and he chuckled, “Feisty, jus-” 

“If you say what I think you're about to say about redheads and temper, just shut it,” she snapped at him, her eyes flashing, “I’ve heard every possible variation.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he grinned, holding up his hands in surrender as she turned on her heel and stalked off to the other side of the bar, grabbing the dish cloth and throwing it at him with a flick of her wrist. 

“You’re on dishwasher duty, don��t fuck up.” 

He caught it mid air before it hit his face, sauntering after her as she pulled up the hood of the dishwasher.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be less predictable in the future,” he grinned and changed his tact, giving her a softer smile this time, leaving some space between them, “I’ve always had a soft spot for redheads, never dated one though,” he said, tilting his head as she scowled. He was making sure to keep his eyes on her face and not let them drift down to where the shirt of her uniform opened up. 

“Good for you;” she replied, pulling out the tray of clean glasses and pointing to them, “They need to be dried or they’ll have water stains, get to it.” 

“Yes, boss.”

“And put them with the other clean glasses when you’re done,” she pulled down the hood again and started turning away but Javier put his hand out to stop her.

“Wait, I apologize, I was an ass, I didn’t mean to come on so strong,” he gently put his hand on her upper arm, careful to not grab her, just let it rest there as he gave her his most sincere look, “but if you get an evening off, I’d like to make it up to you and take you out, just for a drink or something.” 

He smiled at her again, keeping it soft and honest looking as he removed his hand from her arm, “I’m serious, you’re a beautiful woman and clearly a much better bartender than me, and I’d like to get to know you. If you’ll let me.” 

He kept his eyes on her as he stopped talking, reading her face for any tell tale signs of her softening but she wasn’t budging. 

“I don’t date bartenders,” she smirked, picking up an empty tray and leaving the bar area. 

“Make it your New Year’s resolution to try something new and date one?” he called after her with a grin as she began collecting dirty glasses

“Not dating bartenders is my New Year’s resolution,” she threw back at him over her shoulder. 

The first night at the bar had been a disaster and the second was shaping up to be even worse. The bar was quickly getting packed with people out to celebrate New Year’s Eve and it was all hands on deck. Eve cursed as she saw Daniels attempt a gin and tonic, adding far too much tonic as the guest protested. To adjust he poured more gin into the tall glass and made the G&T strong enough to knock out a bull. 

“Daniels!” Eve called, jerking her head in the direction of the back door, “We’re gonna need two new kegs of Stella, get ‘em for me. Patty, take over for Daniels, we’ll be faster without him.” 

Javier tried to look pissed off but in reality this was what he’d been hoping for. Handing the G&T to Patty, who gave him a dirty look, he left the bar and hurried towards the backdoor. If he moved quickly he’d get a few minutes to snoop around. 

The backdoor led to a large storage room, the kegs were stacked in a corner. But at the other end of the room was another door that led to a hallway, and at the end of that, the office. Javier knew this since they’d managed to pull the blueprint of the building from city hall, and now he quickly grabbed a keg and brought it back to the bar. 

“Gonna take a few minutes for the next one, I knocked some shit over, I need to clean it up,” he told Eve, shrugging as she rolled her eyes at him, handing a patron a bright cocktail. 

“Just hurry up, Daniels.” 

“Yes, boss.”

Javier turned and hurried back to the backdoor, closing it behind him and shutting out some of the loud music from the night club, the dull thud of the base reverberating through the walls. 

The office was locked but the cheap mechanism easily gave in and Javier slipped inside, scanning the room for any paperwork. He quickly got to work and flicked through a stack on the desk, moving on to opening the drawers when he found nothing. Next was a thick ledger on the bookshelf and bingo! Tucked between the pages were several shipping manifests, certain rows underlined. The next ship was due in three days. With a satisfied grunt Javier slapped his hand on the ledger. 

The door to the office swung open and Javier froze by the desk, staring at Eve who looked at him with annoyance written clearly across her face.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she snarled, her hand slipping behind her waist in a movement Javier knew far too well, his hands shot up immediately as she pulled a gun from the back of her pants. 

“Nothing, boss, I was just looking for the pay statements, I think Patty’s stealing my tip,” he bullshitted and he knew she hadn’t bought a word. 

“Bollocks, Peña, you’re fucking DEA and you’re messing up my case.” 

Javier felt his mouth fall open as she moved across the office, coming to stand next to him and looking at the shipping manifest. 

“How the fuck do you know?” he finally spat out as she ran her finger over the rows he’d just scanned. 

“Because I’m CIA, and you’re the worst fucking bartender I’ve ever met.” 

“That doesn’t explain it,” Javier replied, “How are you CIA? You’re a bartender!”

“I wasn’t always CIA,” Eve tapped one of the rows, “This one, that’s the one I’m after, and I’m guessing they’re bringing in drugs on it too? Since you’re here?” 

“Yeah, that’s one, the same one we’ve seen three times before. Just didn’t realize it’d be coming in this week.” 

Eve looked over at him and rolled her eyes, “If the DEA put a bit more effort into their cases you’d know that this ship comes in exactly every twenty-one days, always from one of three ports. But they rendezvous on international waters with a ship from Colombia and transfer over their goods. We’ve had our eyes on the girls they bring at the same time, usually about ten poor things dreaming of a better life, but it makes sense for them to bring in drugs the same way.” 

“But how do you know I’m DEA?” Javier asked again and Eve closed the ledger with a snap and put it back on the shelf. 

“Because Lenny ‘breaks his leg’ and you’re magically available two days before New Years, the busiest night of the entire year. Any bartender has been booked months ago. But you’re also the worst fucking bartender I’ve ever seen,” she shook her head, tucking her gun back in the back of her pants. “So I lifted your prints and did a run, Javier Peña, DEA. I like to know who I’m working with.” 

“Well, fuck…” he huffed, “let’s hope no one else is a thorough as you, CIA.” 

Eve gave him a crooked smile, “No one rarely is, Peña.” 

“So these guys traffic women too and that’s why you’re here?” he asked as Eve moved to open the office door and he followed behind her. 

“Yeah, my boss has been on them for months and got a tip off about this place a few weeks ago, I’ve been undercover here since.” The hallway was empty and they moved out, Javier carefully closed the door behind them, making sure it locked again. 

“You had me fooled,” he chuckled, “I thought you were in with them, that’s why I asked you out, to see if I could get you to spill.” 

“Sure that’s why you asked me out,” Eve smirked, “Had nothing to do with the fact that this ridiculous uniform shirt is open halfway to my belly button.”

“That may have been a deciding factor in choosing my mark,” Javier grinned as they started making their way back to the bar. Suddenly the music from the club increased in volume, the door of the storage room was thrown open and over the sound of the music, they heard heavy footsteps. 

“Shit,” Eve hissed, “we’re not supposed to be back here! Quick, in here!” She grabbed Javier’s arm and pulled him in through a door halfway down the hallway and quietly closed the door. The room was a small storage space, jars of cocktail garnishes mixed with cleaning agents stacked on the floor. The space was cramped and Eve found herself pressed up against Javier’s chest as he squeezed in and closed the door quietly behind them. 

“You’re on my foot,” he hissed, shifting, his hands on her hips to move her to the side. 

“Stand still, they’re coming,” she whispered back at him, grabbing on to his arms to keep her balance as her foot knocked against a jar on the floor. The footsteps echoed through the hallway and passed the door, as they held their breath. 

“Wait outside,” came a gruff voice that Eve recognised as Mason’s, the guy who ran the club and was, supposedly, second in command. 

“Yes, boss,” came the surly reply as the door to the office clicked open and shut. Eve tried to keep her breathing as quiet as possible as she and Javier listened to the shuffling boots of the henchman outside the office door, efficiently trapping them in the storage room. 

Javier was uncomfortably aware of how her soft breasts were pressed up against his chest, her hands on his arms to keep her steady. The top of her head was just by his cheek and with each inhale he could smell the light flowery scent of her shampoo. It reminded him of springtime back home and without meaning to, he inhaled deeply and held his breath, closing his eyes. He shifted his body weight, his hands on her hips sliding up every so slightly as the warm press of her body made his cock twitch. 

She shifted next to him, her hips brushing against what could only be his half hard length, hearing a low intake of breath from above as he adjusted his stance. Pressed up against him, her nose was right next to the soft looking skin of his neck, a smattering of freckles visible in the dim light. She could feel him inhaling softly above her and she did the same, catching his aftershave and fresh sweat from the long shift. She carefully tilted her head up, watching his lips part as his tongue came out to wet his plush bottom lip, before he slipped it back inside, meeting her eyes as he looked down at her. 

In the hallway the office door opened and closed again. 

“Alright, all under control for tonight, get Jones and head on over there an-” 

The crash of a glass jar interrupted the man’s orders as Eve cursed under her breath, somehow the stacked jars by their feet had toppled over and now the vinegar smell of pickle juice filled the storage room. 

“What the fuck is going on, check that room, Mendez!” 

Javier grabbed Eve’s face between his hands and pressed her against the wall, his lips on hers a split second before the door was yanked open. He groaned loudly into her mouth, rolling his hips into her soft belly and thanked her quick mind as she pulled him closer by his arms, whimpering against him.

“I don’t fucking pay you for fucking in the storage room!” Mason yelled and Javier yanked himself away from Eve as if they’d just been caught red handed. 

“S-sorry, boss,” Eve stuttered, smoothing down her shirt as Mason growled. 

“Clean this fucking mess up and get back to work, I’m docking both your pays for this. And for the pickles!” 

The door rattled as he slammed it shut, leaving the two of them in the dark again. Javier still had his hands on her face and she was holding on to his arms, exhaling slowly as the footsteps faded down the hallway. 

“Quick thinking, Peña,” she said, looking up at him in the dim light with a smile.

“I hope you won’t judge my kissing skills on that,” he grinned, “I had planned to give you a much nicer first kiss if you’d said yes to that date.” 

“You’re telling me that wasn’t your best work?” Eve asked, taking in the way his eyes dropped to her lips before finding her eyes again. Her hands were still on his biceps, the warmth from his body seeping into her palms as his muscles flexed and moved.  

“Not even close, honey,” his smirk was audacious as he leaned in again, bending down towards her lips, waiting for her to make the final move or pull away. He didn’t need to wait long, her grip on his arms tightened as she moved closer. Her lips were soft when she pressed them against his, parting slightly as he gave her a light kiss, capturing her bottom lip between his own, moving slowly. He felt her open her mouth for him, her tongue touching his lip and he pulled her closer, his fingers sliding into her hair, cupping the back of her head as he deepened the kiss and she responded with a moan. 

The small space reeked of pickle juice, it was sticky under her shoes, she could hear Peña’s shoes slosh in it as he pushed her up against the wall. But his big hand, cupping her head, his warm lips over her own, all conscious thought melted away. Even those about how he really was a DEA prick who couldn’t mix a drink to save his life. At the back of her mind, her conscience hissed at her; ‘unprofessional’. But a much larger part of her brain was drowning in the way his tongue licked into her mouth, and the way his hands felt holding her against him as the evidence of his own excitement grew between them. 

He groaned into her mouth, rolling his hips against her and she gasped for air, before pulling him closer. 

“Please, cariño, tell me you’ll let me take you on that date,” Javier mumbled against her as she kissed the corner of his mouth, moving her lips along his jaw, “I’m not about to fuck you in a storage cupboard, so I need to take you on that date.” 

Her teeth scraped across his neck and he hissed as she sucked a mark into the thin skin, his fingers digging into her hips as he sought out any friction he could get. 

“I don’t think we need a date, Peña,” she mumbled, letting him tilt her head back and reciprocate the mark she’d left on his neck. He pushed her shirt to the side and found the soft skin over her collarbone hidden just out of sight. Eve curled her fingers through his hair as his mouth made her gasp into the dim light of the small room. 

Javi pulled away and straightened up, his hand sliding down from her hip, grabbing the round shape of her ass, pulling her core closer and letting her feel how hard he was as he looked at her, his dark eyes half closed, breathing heavily. 

“Javi,” he muttered, bending down to her open mouth again, “it’s Javi.” 

“Javi,” she mumbled, “I don’t think we need a date, but…” she trailed off as his teeth closed over her bottom lip and gently sucked it in as she moaned into his mouth. He shifted his weight, lifting his shoe from the sticky floor and pressed his leg between her thighs, feeling the heat of her core through the thin fabric of their uniform pants. 

“Fuck, Javi,” she gasped, the pressure of his thick thigh rubbing just where she needed him the most, but with a groan she pulled away from him, putting her hands on his warm chest and pushed him back, “Fuck, don’t, we’re never getting out of here if you do that.” 

“What’s the rush?” he chuckled, “Are you really gonna finish the bartending shift now that we have the shipping info?” 

“If we don’t, we’ll raise suspicion, better to finish it and leave normally,” Eve replied, trying to catch her breath as his dark eyes continued to trail over her lips, down her neck and the shirt he’d pushed open. 

He inhaled slowly, thinking while he lifted his hand and ran the tips of his fingers down her cleavage, caressing the soft skin, finding the lacy edge of her bra, the same white shade as the shirt. 

“You’re right, we should finish the shift,” he sighed, reluctantly removing himself from her warm body, carefully stepping back across the wet floor, “I’ll clean up in here, you get back to the bar, they’re probably swamped.” 

Eve nodded as Javi opened the door, letting them both out into the empty hallway, his hands still on her waist, reluctant to let go of her, now that he’d had a taste. 

“There’s a mop in the other room, and some rubbish bags,” she said as he followed her back towards the club, feeling him caress her hips, cupping her ass as they walked, giving it a light squeeze that made her throw a smile back at him over her shoulder. 

“Be careful, don’t cut yourself on the glass.” 

“I won’t, I’ll see you out there.” 

Javi cursed the sticky pickle juice, and sloshed water over the floor to get it all up once he’d picked up the pieces of glass. He glanced down at his watch as he tossed the trash bag in the bin and opened the door to the nightclub again, it was getting close to midnight. 

The place was swamped, people packed in on the dance floor, pushed up against the bar, where he could see Eve holding up a shaker, the vigorous movements making her breasts shimmy under the white shirt. The movement wasn’t lost on the three men hanging on the bar, all three of them clearly transfixed by her cleavage as she prepared their drinks. Hot jealousy shot up Javi’s spine, making him take longer strides, stepping up behind her as she placed the shaker on the bar counter. He scowled at the three men, staring them down as they pulled their eyes from Eve and were faced with his furious face right behind her. 

“Patty, quit slacking,” Eve called out, glancing over her shoulder down the bar where the tired looking brunette was leaning against the till, arms crossed, waiting for the bar helper to cut up orange slices. 

“I’m waiting for the oranges,” she snapped back at her as Eve accepted the bills from the three men and deftly took another order for a round of complicated sounding cocktails. 

“So take another order while you wait, the line is a mile long, how did it-” 

“What the fuck, you stand there and accuse me, but where you all this time?” Patty’s voice cut through the music of the club like a shrill fog horn, “You two were gone fucking ages, while we had to fight off this crowd!” She gestured at the throng of people by the bar, some of the patrons watching her angry face with glee, spoiling for a good shouting match behind the bar. 

Eve bit back her retort, Patty was right, she and Javier had been gone much too long and she knew the rest of the bar staff noticed. 

“It was my fault,” Javier said behind her, “I knocked over a couple of jars of pickles, had to clean them up and that pickle juice is a bitch to get off the floor.” 

Patty growled and swiped the orange slices off the cutting board, nearly knocking it to the floor as she stomped over to her section again. 

Eve put the last few drinks on to the bar as champagne corks started popping and the music was turned down. Across the nightclub people started to cheer as the manager, and a few of the  waiters, began handing out flutes to the guests as midnight approached. There’s temporary reprieve at the bar as the guests turned towards the small stage in the corner where the manager stood, next to the big screen tv streaming live from Times Square. 

Javier found Eve’s hand out of sight from the rest of the staff and pulled her with him, around to the back of the bar. Guests were still milling around but they’re all focused on the screen as they started chanting, counting down from ten. 

“A kiss at midnight, cariño?” Javi asked, pulling her into his chest, hands landing on her waist and her cheek, sweeping away a damp curl from her forehead. 

She didn’t reply, instead she smiled at him and cupped her hand around the back of his head and pulled his mouth down to hers. Around them the crowd shouted but the noise fades as he parted his lips and let her tongue in. She tugged gently at his curls, angling her face to better reach him and he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her up on her tiptoes so that he could taste her properly. 

The crowd cheered, loud yells of ‘Happy New Year!” erupted as the ball dropped, but it faded into the background as she let a low moan escape into his mouth and he felt her tongue lick into him. The music kicked off again, people began to dance, clinking glasses, hugging and kissing, but Javier let his hand cup her cheek, stroking his thumb over her soft skin, her body warm pressed up against his. Neither of them paying attention to the man who’s just spotted them from across the club as Patty waved at him, pointing in their direction.  

“Alright, that’s fucking it,” Mason yelled as he grabbed Javier’s shoulder and yanked him away from Eve, “You’re both fucking fired, and you can kiss your pay checks for the night good bye.”

He raised his hands to shove them both in the direction of the staff changing rooms, but pulled up short as he saw the furious look on Javier’s face, Eve’s hand on his arm to hold him back. 

Mason settled on growling; “Get the fuck out of my club, you fucking slackers, go make out on someone else’s dime.” 

“Gladly,” Eve scoffed, her hand sliding down and grabbing Javi’s, tugging him along as he scowled at Mason. 

It didn’t take long before they were both outside the club, back in civilian clothes, their bartending uniforms left behind. 

“So, any plans for the rest of the night, querida?” Javier asked, sticking his hands in his leather jacket, fishing out a packet of smokes. 

“A bodega sandwich and falling asleep on the couch,” Eve replied, shaking her head as Javi offered her a cigarette. 

“I was thinking,” he said, taking a first drag, “you said your New Year's resolution was to not date bartenders?” He tilted his head to the side and gave her a smirk as she chuckled, realizing where he was going with this. 

“Yeah, no bartenders,” she smiled and he grinned back. 

“Well, it seems I’m no longer a bartender…” 

“Thank god, worst bartender ever, Javi.”

“So how about that date, cariño?” 

[musings-of-a-rose]

Prepping for Parents

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 680+

Rating: This is fluffy and for everyone, but my blog is rated Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This was for the @pickled-pena writing challenge! Check it out here, but the specs are in the moodboard.

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“Ok..I think I have everything for the natilla. We’ll have to stop at the bakery to grab the buñuelos on the way back home…” I scan my grocery list, making sure to check items off with the pencil I have stuck behind my ear. In the corner of my eye, I see Javier nervously shifting from foot to foot, his hands on his hips as he chews at his lip. “Are you ok, Jav?”

“Hhmm?” His dark eyes meet mine and I swear I melt a little every time he looks at me. “Yeah. I’m great.”

“You’re about to chew a hole through your lip.”

He puffs his lips out, putting his hands up as if to say “Better?” I lean in and kiss his puffy lips, feeling him relax slightly. I pull back and look up at him. “Really. What’s up?”

He shakes his head but isn’t able to contain his thoughts anymore. “Your parents are coming in tonight, our first meeting, and you’ve done all of the cleaning, made sure the hotel is taken care of, made a menu of what we’re having, and you’re picking out all of the food. I just-” he sighs “-can’t I do something?”

“Jav, you don’t have to do anything. You’re here with me and that means so much, especially with all of the work you’ve been doing lately.”

He nods. “Yeah, but I would like to contribute something.”

I can see this is important to him, that he wants to do something for my parents and it makes my heart swell. 

“Do you know what a relish dish is?”

He thinks a moment. “Pickles and olives and shit?”

I chuckle slightly. “Yeah, basically. It’s a big staple at all of our dinners. Mom and dad are pretty particular. Can you go pick out some things for it?”

His eyebrows raise, nearly disappearing into his hairline. “You would trust me with it?”

“Just don’t put actual shit on the plate and I think you’ll be fine.”

He nods and takes off while I finish out my list. About 10 minutes later, he finds me picking up a bag of milk, which I nearly drop when I see that he’s carrying at least 12 jars of things. “What…what’s all this, Jav?”

He’s struggling slightly, trying not to drop them as he attempts to gently set them in the cart. “Well, I couldn’t settle on just a few things. These?” He holds up a jar of pickles. “Are dill. But maybe they like sweet so..” He holds up another jar. Jar after jar of pickles and olives and peppers, a slew of varieties, some I’d never seen before as he puts them in the cart. When he’s done, he brushes his hands together and looks at me, his eyes big like a puppy.

“Do you think it will be enough?”

I laugh then, my whole chest bouncing with it. “Jav, you got way too much. It’s just the 4 of us.”

"You stand there and accuse me of getting too much but where were you at the time? I don't know what everyone likes and..." he mumbles something, but I can’t quite hear him, my eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What?”

He crosses his arms, his eyes not quite meeting mine as he leans in, speaking quietly. “I just want them to like me.”

“Oh, Javier. They’re coming all the way to Colombia for Christmas just to meet you. Trust me, they wouldn’t have made all of this effort if they didn’t like you. And besides-” I put a finger under his chin and tilt him to look at me “- I love you. There’s no way they won’t.”

His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth twitch slightly with a smile. “I love you too, querida.” He kisses me, soft lips and bristly mustache tickling at my skin before pulling back. “But this is stressing me out.” He kisses the top of my head before patting down his pockets and sliding out a pack of cigarettes. I let out a huff of disapproval when he fishes out his lighter.

“I thought you said you were quitting?”

He puts a cigarette in his mouth as he turns to walk to towards the door. “It will be my resolution, I promise querida.”

Author’s Notes: Natilla is a sweet custard that’s traditionally served during Christmas in Colombia. There’s many variations on it, but here’s one with coconut. Buñuelos are like a sweetish bread made with cheese, corn starch, and yuca flower that’s typically round/ball shaped and are pictured with the link I added with natilla. I could eat my weight in buñuelos. And yes, they have bagged milk in Colombia, I’ve seen it with my own eyes!

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

[pedroshotwifey]

Pickled Peña Challenge 2023

Good Impression

Pairing: Husband!Javier P. x GN!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tags/Warnings: Nothing really, fluff, lil bit of angst (silly angst tho), reader and Javi have a dog, Chucho being hella cool, kissing, cussing, vivid descriptions of fried pickles, wifey being actually stupid

Summary: You really wanted to bring something for Chucho's new year's party...

A/N: Hey, y'all! This is my contribution to @goodwithcheese's Pickled Peña Resolutions Writing Challenge! It's kind of stupid but it's what I've got lmao. I can't wait to read everyone else's Peña stories (please feel free to tag me in them)! Unfamiliar with this challenge? Read more about it here! @pickled-pena

*****

“Shit!”

You curse as you watch a pickle slice splat wetly onto the kitchen floor, jumping back to avoid it landing on your bare foot. Max, your golden lab (who was oh-so-creatively named by your husband) is quick to clean it up not a second after it falls. 

“Goddammit, Max,” you scold as you watch him scarf it down without shame. “That’s your fifth pickle today.” 

Hell, it might be the sixth. You usually aren’t a super messy cook, but it’s a different story when you’re in a time crunch. You need to leave the house in about an hour, and the fried pickles you promised to bring for Chucho’s new year’s party are only half done. 

Javier walks in then, chuckling slightly at the interaction he just witnessed. You give him a pointed look before getting back to the task at hand, smothering pickle slices in the flour mixture you had made up. 

“Oh, come on now, sweetheart,” Javi says as he walks up behind you to glide his arms around your waist. “Don’t be like that, we have plenty of time.”

You roll your eyes and half-heartedly shove him off of you as you dip the first batch into the oil on the stove. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, Javi, I still have to fry every single one of these slices, and then let them dry and cool before we can leave. Plus, I still need to change my clothes, and we have to pick up a gift for Chucho on our way there.”

Javi presses a kiss to the top of your head, humming in response to your explanation. 

“I think we’ll be okay. Chucho isn’t going to mind if we’re a little late.” 

“I know,” you whine. “But I still hate not being–”

“I promise you, baby. As long as I show up with ‘that pretty partner of mine’, there’s not going to be an issue.” He pinches your hip lightly as he quotes his father’s words from a few days earlier. 

You can’t help the faint smile that crawls across your face at that reminder. You had been so worried about Javier’s family not liking you, but it turns out that they adore you just as much as he does, just from what he’s said about you. It’s nice to know you’ll be welcomed so warmly even though they had never met you previously. 

The two of you had met in columbia by chance, hooked up, and things spiraled from there. As much as he tried, Javi just couldn’t tear himself away from you. A year later, the two of you were married, and a year after that, you both moved back to Javi’s hometown in Texas, where you’re now, finally, about to meet everyone you had heard so much about. 

You had told Javi that it’s your new year’s resolution to make a good impression, but you doubt that’s going to be very hard. You’ve already made a good impression in their book just by marrying the man.

“How about you go ahead and get changed, and I’ll do what I can here?” Javi suggests. 

You scoop out your pickles and lay them on a rack to dry before turning around and planting a kiss on Javi’s cheek. 

“Thank you, baby. That would help a lot.” 

“No problema, mi vida.”

He grabs your wrist to pull you in to press his lips against yours. You smile against him before pulling back and planting a final, light kiss on his lips. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you tell him as you back out of the doorway. 

***

It doesn’t take too long for you to get dressed. Javi is just finishing the pickles as you walk back into the kitchen. 

“Should be all set,” he says as he wipes his hands down with a paper towel. You lean on your toes to kiss him again.

The two of you have everything cleaned and packed up within another few minutes. You glance at the clock, which tells you that you should be right on time by the time you’re walking out the door. You grab the container of pickles to take with you to the hall table by the front door. 

Javi mumbles something from behind you and then walks into your room, patting his pockets as he goes. You almost laugh under your breath at his forgetfulness until you realize you left your keys in the bathroom. 

You place the container down and walk down the hall, not noticing how precariously balanced the tub is left. You snatch your keys up at the same time you hear a crash. You gasp at the sound of what can only be a plastic lid breaking off to spill your hard work all over the floor. 

Your fears are confirmed as you quickly make your way back to where you left them, only to find Javi hovering over the mess. When looks up and immediately catches your stunned expression, his entire body freezing as he does so.

“Baby,” he starts slowly. I swear it wasn’t–”

“Javier. F. Peña,” you seethe, each name spat out as its own individual sentence. “You did not just knock that down,” you almost dare him to contradict you. There’s absolutely no way for you to make another batch right now. You don’t have the time nor the ingredients. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Javi retorts defensively, holding up his hands as he takes a step toward you. “What makes you so sure that it was me? I thought it was you until I got out here!”

“Me?” you gawk at him, offended. “Unlike some other people I know, I’m not that fucking clumsy!” 

“Woah, you stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?”

Just then, Max slinks into the hall, drawing both of your attention to his guilty movements. His tail wags hesitantly behind him, his head ducked. The fact that he’s not all over those damn pickles tells you all that you need to know. You sigh in frustration, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

You look back up at Javi, and you can’t miss the glint of amusement in his eye. A smile peaks out as you lean down to Max’s level. You don’t scold him, instead gently grabbing his collar to lead him to your room before shutting the door so you can clean the mess without interruption. 

Javi’s already on it, sweeping everything into a dustpan. You lean against the wall as he finishes up. 

“Guess we’re going to have to stop by that burger joint in town,” you say, sighing again. Javi watches you, sending you a sympathetic smile. He knows how much you wanted to bring something homemade, how much it meant to have something to offer, no matter how small. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart. Maybe next time we can invite Chucho over for dinner next week, make up a big meal for him.”

You smile back at him. He always knows what to say. He walks into the kitchen to dispose of the contents in the dustpan, and you to your room to release Max before rejoining each other in the hall.

“Ready to go, my little chef?” 

You roll your eyes at him with feigned annoyance as you take his hand. 

“Let’s go, Peña.”

[ladamedusoif]

A Cup of Kindness, Yet

Part of the Pickled Peña Writing Challenge

(Challenge graphics and images by @musings-of-a-rose and @trulybetty - thank you!)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 2191

Warnings: Alcohol; smoking; strong language (it’s Javi); post-S3 of Narcos; no physical descriptions of Reader; no use of Y/N. 

Rating: Teen

Summary: Another Auld Lang Syne in Laredo, two decades after you last saw in a new year with Javier.

A/N: My submission for the Pickled Peña Writing Challenge organised by @goodwithcheese and the rest of the @pickled-pena collective - thank you for organising this event, everyone! I can't wait to read all the different submissions for these really challenging prompts, and hope you enjoy my contribution.

(PS: if you enjoy this story please follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications - I'm also on AO3.)

“Well? What do you think?”

She twirls around in a black velvet dress, its long sleeves sprinkled with little rhinestones. You have to hand it to her - for a widow in her sixties, your mom still knows how to do glamour. 

It’s a pity the same can’t be said for her daughter. You’ve been schlubbing around the house all throughout the holidays in sweatpants, slouch socks, and your oversized college sweatshirt: the perfect “so your fiancé dumped you just before the holidays” cliche. 

“You look great, mom. You always do.”

She casts an eye over your attire, your messy hair, your bare face. “You could get dressed and come with me, you know. Might meet someone new? You never know on New Year’s Eve…”

You roll your eyes. “Mom, if you think I’m going to meet the love of my life on New Year’s Eve in Laredo - correction, in Laredo at the community dance - then have I got a bridge to sell you. You’re likely to be one of the hot young things there, going on the usual crowd it attracts.”

She swats at you with her black clutch. “I beg your pardon? I am one of the hot young things.” A final check in the mirror, a final pat to her perfectly-lacquered blow dry.

“All I’m saying is, you never know.”

“And all I’m saying is, this year I’m sticking to my New Year’s resolution: no more men.”

***

“Alright, pop. Have a good time - and no making out with girls down by the river!”

Chucho Peña shakes his head and smiles as he gets out of Javier’s truck, parked outside the community centre. “A pity you won’t join us, mijo,” the older man says, placing his stetson on his head. “You could do with the company.”

Javier shakes his head. “I’m fine, pop. You go and enjoy yourself. You know I don’t like New Year’s, anyway.”

He doesn’t. He never really did. As a kid he liked watching the countdown on TV with his parents and extended family, as a teen the last day of the year became a competition to find someone to make out with as the clock struck midnight. (Javi always excelled.)

But there was always something uncomfortable about the event, something that preyed on the melancholy aspects of his character. Maybe it was the forced celebrations, or the strangeness of marking the passing of time, or the pressure to be someone new - someone better - in the new year ahead. 

He’d been trying to be someone new for years, now. He never succeeded.

Back at the ranch, he flips idly through the TV channels and finds nothing to watch. A rumble in his tummy has him peering into the cold light of the refrigerator, confronted with a few cold cuts, cheese, and a half-eaten jar of pickles that’s been there forever. A solitary bottle of beer lurks on the refrigerator door. 

“Fuck this.”

He grabs his jacket and keys and heads for his truck.

***

The cashier rings up your two bottles of wine and places them in a plastic carrier bag. They’re young, probably not much older than sixteen, and their New Year’s Eve shift at the convenience store clearly isn’t setting their world alight. 

“Havin’ a party, huh,” they mumble as they hand you the bag. 

“Oh yeah,” you respond in a tone dripping with sarcasm, unable to keep your sass-mouth in check. “I’m having a huge party, with my two bottles of cheap Californian white.”

“Just makin’ conversation, lady. Y’all have a good night at your wine party, or whatever.”

You huff as you shove the plastic bag on the passenger seat and hop into your car, still rolling your eyes in misplaced frustration at the young cashier. You knew you were in the wrong, taking your heartbreak and loneliness out on a spotty kid working minimum wage. For a moment, you consider driving to a bar, seeking some sort of solace in the company of strangers.

But every bar in town would be celebrating, you remind yourself. The last thing you want is to ring in the new year being felt up by someone’s greasy uncle in an ill-fitting denim shirt and bolo tie, reeking of cheap whiskey. 

In that moment, the yellow glow emanating from the signage over the branch of Danny’s Restaurant, across the street, catches your eye like a beacon. 

Perfect.

***

Javier’s truck pulls into the parking lot of the convenience store, pausing to let a woman driving a beat-up compact pass on her way out. He’s got his heart set on a half-pounder and fries from Danny’s - extra pickles, extra mayo - but wants to pick up some beers and cigarettes first, to keep him going for the rest of the night.

The cashier rings up his six-pack and Marlboros, sighing as they place them in a bag. “Havin’ a party, huh,” the kid mutters, barely making eye contact with their customer.

“Pretty mean party, just a six-pack and a box of smokes,” Javier responds.

The kid stares up at him. “Whatever. Smokin’s bad for you, anyway.”

Javier wheels around as he exits the store. “I know. Don’t care. Quitting’s my New Year’s resolution so I gotta make the most of them tonight.”

***

“So that’s a Danny’s Special, hold the pickles, extra lettuce, and a Diet Coke?”

You nod up at the waitress and hand her the menu with a smile. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window of the restaurant, and for a moment you don’t recognise the woman you see.

When did you get so old, you wonder? Where did you - or at least, the you that used to be - go? 

Still, at least you’d put on some 501s, a fresh white scoop neck top, and a long-line cardigan for your first venture outside your family home in several days. Sure, it might just be for a trip to the convenience store and Danny’s, but even you had standards.

The waitress returns with your drink and the usual complimentary tray of chips and salsa. The restaurant is probably a little quieter than usual for this time of the evening: a couple of families in booths here and there, a few lone diners at the counter. As you nibble idly on the chips, you half-notice a dark-haired man coming through the door a little after you, placing his order quickly at the counter before he’s even been seated. 

It was just what you were after: no countdowns, no forced merriment, no crowds, but just enough hum and background noise to break up the silence that otherwise awaited you. 

“One Danny’s special.”

You thank the waitress and sigh with anticipation as you lift your burger, take your first bite, and find your mouth filled with the overpowering taste of pickles.

***

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Uh, I think my order got mixed up - I asked for no pickles, and this burger has…”

You become aware of the dark-haired man signalling to another staff member behind the counter, pointing at his burger in much the same way as you. 

There’s something familiar about him - about his body language, his profile, the way he carries himself. 

And then it hits you.

“Javi?”

***

How long has it been? Twenty years? Twenty-five?

No matter the number, when the shock of recognition has the power to jolt you back through time like this. Back to another New Year’s Eve, someone’s shitty house party, most of your senior year classmates wasted on cheap beer and tequila. Still an hour or two before midnight and already the party has split into two camps: the lovers, making out on every conceivable surface, and the fighters, yelling and screeching and walking off.

And then there were those who combined both roles, whose loving felt a lot like fighting and vice versa. 

Like Lorraine and Javi.

In your mind's eye, you're back in the upstairs hallway of that house, wearing your new flared jeans and ditsy print blouse and picking your way over classmates and half-drunk plastic cups of beer as you seek out the bathroom. 

A couple is rowing in one of the bedrooms, the door ajar enough for you to be able to peek in. 

You know you shouldn’t, but…

“You’re such a dick, Javi! You know what you did!”

Ah. Lorraine and Javi. Lovers and fighters.

“You stand there and accuse me, Lorraine, but where were you at the time?”

Lorraine tosses her perfect blonde hair indignantly.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. Fuck you, Javier.”

She doesn’t even notice you as she flounces out of the room. Same as it ever was. You’d always had a tendency to blend into the background. 

Javi notices you, though. “Did you enjoy the show?”

You step around the door and look in at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to overhear, but you guys were pretty loud…”

He’s got his back to you as he sits on the side of the bed, impossibly broad in his tight, striped shirt. 

You wander into the room and closer to him, emboldened by a couple of weak beers. “Are you okay?”

His dark eyes look into yours in surprise, as if he’s unused to being asked the question.

“I guess… it’s just - ah, fuck it. She seems to think I’m always cheating on her - and I’m not, I swear - but won’t explain why she’s gotta spend so much time ‘revising’ with other guys.”

“Maybe she’s just helping them prepare for the SATs?”

He looks at you, and you notice the sadness in his eyes. “Maybe. I dunno. She shouldn’t go off on me about this stuff, though.” He takes a swig from a bottle of beer and exhales. “Fuckin’ hate New Year’s.”

“Me too.” 

He huffs a laugh and smiles at you. “I’m in good company, then.”

You see in the new year sitting side by side on the back porch, sharing a small bottle of cheap bourbon and swapping stories about your plans for the future, your hopes and dreams.

Javier Peña tells you he’s going to change the world.

And then school starts again, and Lorraine and Javi make up, and that’s the last time you talk to him other than a mumbled “Hi” in the hallway now and again. 

Until tonight.

***

He slides into the seat opposite you and shakes his head with a smile. “All these years, and it took a mix-up about pickles to bring us back together again.”

You shrug, taking in the man he had become: handsome, charming, cool, even, but with the same lingering sadness haunting those beautiful eyes. 

“Of all the family restaurants in all of Texas,” you offer.

“You had to walk into mine,” he responds, taking the bait. “Or into this branch of Danny’s, at least.”

You tilt your head to look at him. “What’s a hero doing alone on New Year’s Eve, anyway?”

He rolls his eyes. “Not a hero. And don’t you remember? I don’t like New Year’s. Fuckin’ hate it, in fact. Told you that, all those years ago.”

“You did, didn’t you?” 

The waitress returns carrying your two freshly-prepared, correct orders and a large helping of apologies. “We’ll be sure to bring you over some more chips, too, and the drinks are on the house.”

Javier clinks his glass off yours. “Maybe this year is looking up already. What about you, anyway - what brings you back home?”

“My fiancé dumped me four days before Christmas,” you explain, dipping a French fry into a pot of chipotle mayo. “So what else is a girl to do but run home to mama, legal career or no legal career?”

“Fuck, that’s rough.” Javier seems genuinely sympathetic. He takes a bite of his burger and chews it thoughtfully. “So no New Year’s parties for you either, huh?”

You shake your head. “I would rather be dipped in boiling oil.”

He laughs, revealing the crinkles around his eyes that only serve to make him even more handsome as he enters middle age. Why do these little signs of ageing always look good on men, you wonder, but make a woman feel like she’s failed?

“Would you be opposed to a party for two?” he asks quietly. “Theme is: Fuck New Year’s.”

You grin. “Just like old times. Count me in.”

***

You hear the bells of San Agustín ringing in the new year from the back porch of your mother’s house. Javier clinks his whiskey tumbler off your glass of white wine. 

“A happy fuck new year’s to you.”

“And a happy fuck new year’s to you, too. You got any resolutions, Javi?”

He takes a long, satisfying drag on his cigarette before handing it to you. “Quit smoking. You?”

“No more men. Think you’ll stick to it?”

He raises an eyebrow at your resolution and smiles as he looks out into the night. “We’ll see. Hearing good things about those nicotine patches.” And then those penetrating, sad eyes are on you. “What about you? Think you’ll stick to your resolution?”

You meet his gaze and give him a knowing smile. “We’ll see. Might find someone worth breaking it for.”

[survivingandenduring]

There are so many great Pickled Peña stories today!! 💚💚💚💚

Check the # to find them

[nerdieforpedro]

Pickles with your Peña

Notes: There was a discussion of how seriously some of us took our pickle challenge. As always, I, (Nerdie - the resident Hornado Hooligan) wrote a poem about it. I added some more to the original poem, it needed to have a more full bodied pickle.

We got possible pickle sex, magic pickles, catalyst pickles, main pickles, sour pickles and likely side pickles. 🥒

Where else might the pickles be?

Tune in on New Year’s Day for a deluge of pickles in many ways, shapes and forms.

Beware the pickle.

Embrace the pickle.

Side-eye the pickle.

Pet the pickle.

Serenade the pickle.

Maybe the pickle will be dry.

You might need to wet the pickle.

Give the pickle a light nudge.

Maybe tease the pickle.

Jerk that gherkin ‘till you move the skin a little.

Make that pickle dribble a little.

Careful if the pickle trickles too long after.

Might need a cornichon doctor for that.

Especially if that pickle is too hot and burns a little.

The plot thickens, just like that dill.

All pickles. All night. That brine is sometimes salty, sometimes sweet but always hits your taste buds and occasionally your nose. Make sure to swallow all you’re given. 😘

Have those jars, coin rolls and dollars ready with some mustard on the side! 😎

Enter the Pickled Peña Bonanza of the New Year!

The Pickle Posse: @maggiemayhemnj @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @for-a-longlongtime @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @morallyinept @undercoverpena @avastrasposts @megamindsecretlair @rhoorl @laurfilijames @ladybess-a03 @linzels-blog @fhatbhabie @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @yorksgirl @frenchiereading @theywhowriteandknowthings @pedroshotwifey @legendary-pink-dot

[avastrasposts]

(last minute) WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @trulybetty !

I have a new WIP this week, part of the pickled Peña challenge that a bunch of us are doing. Check out @goodwithcheese post if you want to know more and join!

So this is a little snippet from my pickled Peña

“Daniels!” she yelled, making him startle and almost drop the five hundred dollar bottle of whisked he’d just grabbed. “We do not put JD Gold Medal in a fucking Jack and Coke,” she hissed at him as she took the bottle from his hand, “get a fucking grip, regular JD is just fine.”  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, grabbing the right bottle this time, pouring a much too generous measure into the glass as Eve rolled her eyes.  “Put this back on the shelf when you’re done,” she snapped, “Considering your name, I really thought you’d know more about Jack Daniels, Jack Daniels," she scoffed at him and went back to her section of the bar.  

I'm too tired to think of people to tag so consider yourself tagged and give me your WIP's!

(no side eyes 😪 I went to the ER today and got my hand stitched up with no anesthesia. It was only the one stitch but my body seems to think I went through major trauma and wants to fall asleep at 9 pm...)

[javierpena-inatacvest]

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*

Chapter 20: I Do

Pt. 1*

Pt. 2*

Chapter 21: Paradise* (New 11/7!)

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*

Happy Valentine's Day, Javier Peña*

The Mouse and the Motorcycle

You Make Life Worth It

Take Me Home

Plaid Pajama Morning

Agent Peña*

Every Inch*

Soup for Breakfast

Whatever My Wife Wants*

Fever*

His*

Oh, Baby

Insatiable*

Peanut Butter and Pickles

Sail Away

You Make Lovin' Fun*

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officer*

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

Javi helping with Osita's pregnancy cravings

Osita when she's pregnant

Osita after a bad day at work

Javi coming home after work to his kids

Javi and Osita deciding how many kids they want

Javi and his daughters at the Eras Tour

Extras:

NSFW Alphabet- Javi and Osita*

1K Followers Celebration Asks and Answers

Never Too Late Playlist

Mood board

Timeline of NTL

[pedroshotwifey]

Y’all’s comments/reblogs on my Pickled Peña fic are killing me 😭 Thank you for the love!

[venussaidso]

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝗕𝗿𝗮𝘁 𝗔𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲

Revati being the nepo baby, expanding on the foundational wealth that was initially built from nothing from Uttarabhadrapada, to Ashwini coming from old money; it makes sense that Ketu nakshatras' roots come directly from Mercury nakshatras. No wonder I'm specifically seeing the spoiled rich brat from generational wealth theme coming up in Ketu nakshatras. And then Mercury nakshatras, as I explored in my Mercury Dominant Themes, having a responsibility of carrying and expanding the wealth and power that is passed onto them, or they have to rebuild it or prove their worth for this.

In Jyestha, being a very dry nakshatra, they usually start from nothing. And when they rise up, the accumulation tends to be too extreme and significant.

And we know that Jyestha is the billionaire nakshatra.

After Jyestha, comes Mula. And Ketu, naturally being draining of resources, can be the greedy spoiled brat. In the media, I see Ketuvians being children of billionaires or coming from old money. But the spoiled brat trope doesn't even have to come from generational wealth either. They'll be spoiled regardless.

For example, Mula Sun Cheryl Chase voices Angelica Pickles who is a spoiled brat and the cousin of Tommy Pickles and Dil Pickles who she bullies and manipulates for her own gain.

Ashwini Sun Selah Victor voices Chloé Bourgeois who is the spoiled rich daughter of Paris' former mayor, André Bourgeois.

Ashwini Moon Ashley Peldon was the speaking voice of Darla Dimple. Darla is just like Chloé Bourgeois and Angelica Pickles, in fact. She is a spoiled little demon who is extremely privileged.

And then Magha Moon Lindsay Ridgeway was the singing voice for Darla Dimple.

Mula Moon Emma Roberts plays Poppy Moore who is a spoiled American girl who comes from a very wealthy family.

Being Ketuvian, she lacks boundaries and her father basically enabled her into being a chaotic materialistic 'monster', so he sends her to boarding school in England where she finds the meaning of life.

The character Azula is voiced by Magha Sun Grey DeLisle. Azula is a very wealthy and spoiled princess. She comes from a powerful bloodline.

Magha Moon Helena Bonham Carter plays the Queen of Hearts who is a very spoiled and obstreperous character. Much like Azula, she is royalty, and if you cross her, you're good as dead. She must get things her way... or else ☠️.

Ashwini Moon Leighton Meester plays Blair Waldorf who literally comes from old money, and she is considered to be very spoiled. And power driven.

Magha Sun Blake Lively plays Serena van der Woodsen who also comes from old money. She is also considered to be spoiled.

Mula Moon Victoria Pedretti plays the character Love Quinn who comes from a very wealthy and powerful family.

Mula Moon Eleanor Tomlinson plays Sylvie in the series One Day. Her character literally comes from old money.

In Through My Window, the Hidalgo brothers are played by Mula Moon Julio Peña, Mula Sun Hugo Arbues, and Mula Moon Eric Masip. All three of them are heirs to an empire.

In the film Meet Joe Black, double Mula native Claire Forlani plays the daughter of a multimillionaire (who's interestingly played by Mula Moon Anthony Hopkins) who could come from old money.

The film Soft Top Hard Shoulder is written by, and stars Ashwini Sun Peter Capaldi. His character is a struggling artist in London who comes from a very wealthy family.

Ashwini Moon Sarah Snook and Mula Sun Jeremy Armstrong both play one of the Roy siblings. Their father is a billionaire.

Ashwini Sun Phoebe Dynevor, Mula Moon Hannah Dodd and Ashwini Sun Jonathan Bailey play one of the main Bridgerton siblings who literally come from old money.

In the film Awake, Ashwini Sun Hayden Christensen plays a scion of a wealthy banking family.

Ashwini Moon Cate Blanchett plays an heiress in the film Oscar and Lucinda.

The character Patrick Bateman is played by Ashwini Moon Christian Bale. Patrick comes from extreme wealth. All he's ever known was being wealthy. Yet this life he lives suffocates him even more and he turns to sociopathic tendencies.

The character Lily Reynolds is played by Ashwini Sun Anya Taylor Joy. She literally comes from old money, and much like Patrick Bateman, she does show dissatisfaction with her life (and that's due to her step-father who she plots to murder).

The character Rory Gilmore is also said to be spoiled as she gets everything handed to her by her wealthy grandparents. She is played by Ashwini Moon Alexis Bledel.

Mula Sun, Mula Moon Jodi Eichelberger voiced the character Stingy who is a possessive collector and the son of the wealthiest person in LazyTown.

Mula Moon Jaclyn Linetsky voiced the iconic spoiled brat, Caillou.

Caillou is not taught boundaries, much like the other Ketu nakshatra examples. Others are more extreme, such as Azula, Darla Dimple or even Angelica Pickles. Actually, it's very interesting that a lot of their parents end up fearing them. Or the Ketu native control them (like Chloé Bourgeois overtly controlling her father).

This also just explained why Ketu exalts in Jyestha. Jyestha puts out a lot of heat and energy, while Ketu sucks in energy. Here, Ketu is at its powerful level. This is why this placement is also seen in billionaires and indicates extreme fame.

Although, this trope can be a lot more nuanced than that, as seen in the Ashwini characters such as Lily Reynolds and Patrick Bateman. Ketu can also involve overcoming generational trauma as well, being that Ketu nakshatras deal with getting to the roots. The old money simply signifies the theme of "roots" (in Mula coming from Jyestha).

In Azula's case, she comes from a very powerful, domineering family lineage. Her ancestral roots are very sacred and symbolic to her, being Magha nakshatra. For all her life, all she's known was power (and being spoiled).

Ketu constantly pulling in energy (even to the point of destruction as it's a shadow planet), we see just how power hungry and domineering of a force she is.

Growing out of the spoiled rich brat archetype, Ketuvians also embody the golddigging archetype as well. Any archetype that has to do with draining resources. Example of this is the character Daniel Plainview from There Will Be Blood, who is an expert at extracting oil (and stealing lands), being a former silver miner and oilman.

Throughout the film, we watch as he crawls under the weight of all the wealth and resources he's accumulated and drained from others. Essentially living a life of emptiness and dissatisfaction. He's played by Ashwini Moon Daniel Day Lewis.

[ladamedusoif]

Tomorrow I'm going to read and re-read all the lovely comments and reblogs on my @pickled-pena offering, and respond to everyone.

I can't thank the organisers enough for putting together the event. It was a really wonderful way to start 2024 in the fandom: introducing us to new writers and offering a fresh perspective on how the same prompts, character(s), and themes can produce such beautifully diverse responses. It's a great example of a creative writing exercise, and one that has not only produced gorgeous work but also brought people together.

(And boy, did I need that.)

I'm going to keep catching up with the submissions I've missed and the final masterlist is going to be the most delicious potluck in fic history.

Yours in pickling,

Rose.

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update - 12/24/2023 Christmas Eve

Hey Nerdie! You’ve got some bags there.

I do both under my eyes and Din finally let me look through the ones he’s been using. It’s….Mandalorians are wild.

I feel like they’re not Nerdie, at least not how you’re thinking. Should we even ask?

Has to do with what I’ve written this week:

Weddings 101 with Dieter - chapter 3 came out this week. There was a fight that I still giggle about. There will be more, I’m loving the beef between Dieter and Oscar. There had to be some type of fight in the rom-com. 🤭 There was also cloud smut? I don’t know how else to put it. Ya’ll read it and tell me what it was.

Sard’ika Sessions - In Session Four Din put together something in the reader’s house. They may use it again. Liberties are taken with the Creed and Mandalorian culture though not too crazy. (That might be for an epilogue.) I’d like to thank everyone who’s been reading since Session one (we’ve come so far from thigh-riding) and are now on the latter end where our Session partners are exploring each other but communication as well. It was really sweet to read people’s comments and see that they picked up on how well they communicate with each other while indulging in their sexual appetites. I’d like to think it’s come across how I planned it originally when I scribbled all of this in my notebook at 4am when I couldn’t sleep in November after Thanksgiving of all things. We’ll see how things continue to progress.

I have a poll up for “Weddings 101 with Dieter” to determine what might go into chapter four. I’m enjoying everyone’s comments and options on what should happen with both Dieter/Maya and Dieter vs. Oscar. Click the link above to vote and have your suggestions added. I’ll announce the results and the most voted will be put in. I’ll likely add some of the other suggestions because I like them so much. ☺️

Remember Frankie~ (I read something new and caught up on a few things. Some of which weren’t even related to our favorite pilot. My mind went deep into smut. As a warning, don’t read while multi-tasking! Though I take it as a point of pride to have someone forget their name while on a call. 😉) They knew who they are. 😎 Love ya! ❤️

Nerdie’s Bedtime Stories (Might be a new series for weirdness I think up and might read to someone. This was a Christmas Carol featuring some of the Pedro boys. A Feral Carol as @maggiemayhemnj called it.) @undercoverpena and @morallyinept encouraged me. 🤣

You put a lot of thought into what you write. We really thought it was only the non-smut stuff you thought hard on. You’ve indicated you have trouble with that before.

It’s not so much I have trouble with it. I’m used to doing one-shots and exclusivity writing smut before I joined back up on Tumblr. I’m branching out and trying all sorts of smut and actual storylines (when I can make it coherent to anyone but myself) in my writing now. Even comedy with Dieter though I like to put little jokes in most of my writing.

Ah, so you’re learning as you go on as we all do. Fair. Any current WIPs you’re trying to finish up before 2023 is out?

Well, I have a Pickled Peña to finish. Everyone’s welcome to join in and write about our favorite DEA agent Javier Peña. Everyone who’s participating will post on January 1st and tag their work with the “pickled peña” tag.

I’m also participating in the PMAMC 2024 which is in mid-January. I decided to challenge myself with not only writing about pegging but also writing with a character I’ve only written for once and in his historical setting, because past Nerdie who accepted this was feeling ambitious. 😗 Present Nerdie wonders what was she thinking. 🧐 She also has to review her notes on what may have been used to facilitate pegging during the time period, there’s a long note I have on it. It should be mostly historically accurate, I guess, because that’s what matters. 👀 In pegging - the historical aspect. 😒

I have two Robbie Reyes asks to work on as well as one smut piece I wanted to do for him and one actual story.

There are three Joel pieces that I wanted to write, one will be tabled until next Christmas. I don’t think I’ll finish it by tomorrow. The second was a post outbreak one, I’ve only written post outbreak once so I want to see if it will be a one short or series. The third one might be finished. I need to edit it.

Anything else will likely be tabled until 2024 because I either don’t have ideas for it or I want to wait until I feel good about writing it. 😊

Any last remarks?

I’d like to thank any and all of my beta readers: @avastrasposts @musings-of-a-rose @frenchiereading @theywhowriteandknowthings @megamindsecretlair @pedrodascal @iamasaddie @fhatbhabie and @morallyinept @legendary-pink-dot

Ya’ll saw all the typos, swapped countries and off beat plot points. 😗

Also @linzels-blog don’t worry The Creed is fine. Mostly I believe. Like it will all work out. 😉

I usually add fics I’ve read this week but I’m going to organize them and put them in another fic rec post because I have them saved there already. 😎

The above wallpaper was made by @xxhypersomnia who did two sets of awesome retro Javier Peña edits on her page. 🥰 She even tagged me in the second one which I have to look at later when I’m home.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Awww thank you. The whole pickle idea was so fun, I loved to write it

Thank you for reading 💞

More

My entry for the @pickled-pena challenge!

Summary: You meet Javier Peña on a New Years Eve party. A year later you're still together, making plans for the future.

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: M

Warnings: falling in love, fluff, pregnancy, dumb puns, kissing, suggestive language, awful lot talk of pickles

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A new year always seemed to come with expectations. You never really understood why everyone was expected to celebrate the changing of the years. Why everyone expected everyone to be in a good mood and wanting to celebrate the changing of years.

All New Years eve to you was, was your parents now not needing an excuse to get drunk and party when you were growing up. They were young when you were born. Just out of high school. And they tried, at least in the beginning from what you could remember. 

You did not like New Years eve, and you hated new years resolutions. They never worked for you you, so you didn’t bother. And you did not celebrate New Years.

That was until last year when your best friend dragged you to a house party, making you wear a dress you didn’t like but according to her making you look like a dream. 

You never really went out, too busy with work and spending time in bed reading. 

But his night, maybe after a couple of drinks you made a vow to yourself (not a resolution mind you) to be more open, to get out more, to maybe even find love. 

That it would happen on the same night was not something you could have ever imagined. 

You and Javier met twenty minutes after midnight. 

He invited you for a free drink after saving you from the drunkest man you had ever encountered with the most stupid pick up line ever. You thought he was just being nice to you. It would take almost three weeks for you to figure out that he was genuinely interested in you. 

You were more or less inseparable ever since. 

It was a whirlwind, falling in love with Javier Peña. 

He was still fighting his own demons, having spent years in the drug war in Columbia you only read about in the newspapers about. He had moved to Portland, Texas to be close to his father, but also have a new start where nobody knew him. 

He told you almost everything about his time with the DEA, wanting you to know what kind of person he was, his mind made up about not deserving something good, something to love, to be loved. 

It took some time to make him understand that you were in this for the long haul.

Something that came even more apparent when you found out your were pregnant just five months after making things official with him. 

It’s how you found yourself six months pregnant on a ranch in Laredo, Texas on New Years eve. Javier’s father had invited you both to spend the holidays with him, wanting to get to know you, and while you were hesitant at first because of your past with your family, you quickly found yourself wondering if this was what the future would look like. 

Lazy Christmas mornings spend with Javier in bed before you made breakfast. Chucho insisting on making the whole Christmas dinner, shooing you out of the kitchen everytime you even intended to help. 

Presents wrapped under the Christmas tree.

It was like a dream. 

Javier was out to help his father take care of the animals while you were preparing some potato salad for lunch. You were looking for the glass of pickles (well one of them, you had to have at least four different sorts in the house all the time because you had been craving different kinds) when the door opened behind you. Looking over your shoulder you saw Javier walk in, brushing his hands over his jeans, wearing a Cowboy hat on his head, before he gave you a small smile. 

„Whatcha up to baby?“ He asked, walking over to you. 

„Searching for the glass of pickles I need for the salad,“ you hummed, still on your tiptoes as you looked inside the fridge. 

„Any specific kind?“ He asked. You felt his hand on your back and sighed. 

„The ones with the red label on the jar?“ You said, still looking. They had a shitload of Garlic in them and you were craving garlic pickles. For the salad of course. Just for the salad.

He hummed, pushing the fridge closed and you pouted and turned around, finding him smiling down at you. 

„If I remember correctly you ate the rest of those last night,“ he hummed, wrapping his arms around you. 

You widened your eyes. 

„I did not,“ you hissed.

„Did so. Found the whole jar empty this morning, next to an almost empty bottle of whipped cream,“ he nodded, trying to lean in to kiss you but you narrowed your eyes, bringing one of your hands up, your finger tipping pointing against his chest. 

"You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time?“ You asked and he huffed, still smiling. He leaned in, his lips at your ear. 

„I was trying to get some sleep after you jumped me and made me made you cum four times,“ he whispered and your lips parted in mock shock, releasing a shaky breath. 

„I made you? If I remember correctly you were very much into it, Mr. Peña,“ you teased and he shrugged. 

„Never said I wasn’t,“ he finally kissed you and you hummed against his lips. 

„Where’s your dad?“ You asked against his lips. 

„Going to the store to get you your pickles,“ he grinned and you laughed. 

„So that means… We have an empty house to ourselves for what? An hour?“ You asked. 

„He’s gonna visit his brother too, so more like three hours,“ he nodded. 

„Hmm…“ you hummed, bringing our arms up, your hands crossing behind his neck. 

„Mhhh…“ he hummed back, his lips slowly wandering down your jaw. 

„What… ever will we do with all that time?“ You asked innocently. He grinned at you, slowly turning you and walking you towards his bedroom, his lips on yours. 

„Wanna check how often I can hide my pickle inside of you?“ he asked and you both started laughing seconds after. 

„You did not just say that,“ you giggled, shaking your head. 

„Yeah I can not believe I just said that either,“ he shook his head, helping you sit down on the bed when you made it to the bedroom. 

You let yourself fall back, sliding into the middle of the mattress, looking up at him. 

„Only you could say something this stupid and still have me dripping for you,“ you sighed, parting your legs. Hungry eyes followed your every move, your fingers as the slowly pulled on the dress you were wearing, revealing more and more of your skin to his eyes. 

„Yeah?“ He asked, his voice dark.

You let your eyes wander the length of his body, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, his cock already hard inside his jeans. Still wearing that cowboy hat.

„Wanna eat my pussy?“ You grinned and he groaned. 

„Fuck yeah.“

It was in the early morning hours of the new year that you found yourself in front of the fireplace next to the Christmas tree, laying with your back against Javier’s chest.

His father had gone to sleep shortly after midnight, leaving the two of you alone. 

„Any resolutions for the new year?“ You asked him, his hand slowly rubbing over your growing stomach. 

„Many,“ he said, his lips close to your ear. 

„Me too,“ you nodded. 

„Wanna share?“ He asked. You shook your head no.

„Don’t wanna jinx it,“ you said and he sighed. 

„Yeah, me neither.“

„Got one I wanna share though,“ you hummed, a smile playing on your lips. 

„Yeah?“

„Gonna love you even more this year than I did last year,“ you whispered, feeling his arms tightening around you. 

„Still love you more,“ he hummed and kissed you neck.