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cositapreciosa · 10 months ago
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Of wolf and sheep
Alejandro Gillick x gn!reader, (the usual for the movies, nothing too graffic) 1793 words
a/n : another Alejandro Gillick fic??, I hear you say, and to that I respond, do you mean sexy Alejandro fic, eat my children
Tagging the besties-that-might-like-this as usual @narcolini @drabbles-mc @anunhealthydoseofangst @hausofmamadas
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‘’ Are you here to kill me? ‘’
You haven’t turned on the lights yet, boots still on, waiting in the entryway. Silence is heavy in your apartment, but you know he is here, Alejandro, you can sense it, waiting in the dark at your expense. You are not surprised you are next, not when you know how they handle deserters, when you know too much, when they are scared you might talk. It makes your heart beat faster, especially because you know they hold Alejandro in a tight lease like a dog.
If he hears you he doesn’t answer, and so you keep moving, what else is there to do? Removing your shoes, dropping your bag. Maybe you are just tired, maybe the doormat wasn’t that crooked, maybe the fingermarks on the handle were yours, maybe-
‘’ You know I couldn’t. ‘’ Alejandro sits on your sofa, his back against the cushion, your cat purring on his lap. ‘’ Such a pretty thing like you… ‘’
It is meant as a joke, probably, but it doesn’t make you laugh, doesn’t make your insides warm up like they used to. All you feel now is cold, a deep, freezing cold that seeps inside your bones, and tense your shoulders, making bile pill up in your mouth.
‘’ Can I feed the cat? ‘’
A simple question, one that he nods to, one that he understands means you are not jumping on a hidden gun or making a b-line for the bedroom window. The cat is up as soon as he hears the pantry open, rubbing on your legs, wet nose meeting your ankles. You put more kibble in the bowl, just in case.
‘’ Wasn’t easy to find you. ‘’ He continues, ‘’ Montana is large, it was pretty hard to track. You could have moved countries. ‘’
‘’ Just to have you catch the flight log? ‘’ You move to the armchair in front of him, taking a seat, ‘’ I thought I did well, everyone makes mistakes. ‘’
You cross your legs, tucking your feet. He watches your every move, like a hawk, barely moving. Alejandro doesn’t look much different than he was a year ago, black still looks great on him, his arms are bigger, the beard slightly longer too.
Your first mistake was getting recruited by the CIA, a consultant they had told you, something up to your added value. Talent, Matt had called it later down the line, interrogation is what makes the world turn. In a way it did, they all talked, and you went home, cashed your check, just to fly back out whenever was needed. A few months later, you met Alejandro on base, near the Mexican border. You liked his eyes, how he didn’t speak much, didn’t move air, a peacefulness to his presence, weirdly.
And then one day your contract changed hands, no CIA, just Matt, and whoever held the chains. Your second mistake was to accept it, not to ask for a transfer, and join the team. You could sense the heaviness in the interrogation rooms now, notice the dangerous glint in Alejandro’s eyes. The hours would be longer, the pay better, dirtier. Sometimes, Alejandro would join you, make you leave the room halfway in, cutting the camera before closing the door behind you. Everything was more hands-on, no more slowly gnawing at it, no more psychological tactics, just raw human nature, animals in cages. Most days would end with you screaming at Matt that you would quit, that this wasn’t what you had signed up for. Oh, but it is, sweetheart, do you know what happens to you if you break this contract?
Threats, every day, all of it, but you couldn’t allow yourself to find out, not after Kate, not when you had heard words here and there of what had happened. You had gotten to know Alejandro better pretty quickly after that. Maybe you had eventually gained his respect by being so out of bounds every time.
Between the long hours, the endless plane rides, inevitably running into him at the motel bar, even when you thought there was no way something would come out of it, you kept finding him around every corner. And then you kissed him one night, or maybe he did, one drink too much, pressing on you, bringing you up against the bed. Your third mistake. It felt different to be able to touch him, how he would accept it, initiate it even. A breath of fresh air compared to those stuffy interrogation rooms.
You found comfort in Alejandro’s arms, in the dark of night, letting him wrap around you, letting the sound of his breathing ease the voices in your head, letting him trace figures on your back with his fingers until you would fall asleep.
No one knew, no one suspected a thing, and you liked it better that way, as you are sure he did too. Matt wasn’t blind, though, you could see the crease between his brows when you would get on the plane together, how he had started to comment on your outfits, your hair. You could tell he was going fishing, throwing the bait, waiting to see if the wolf would bite. Still, he was always your colleague first, a good one, never late, easy to work with, and then he was something else. Something you couldn’t name, something you couldn’t exactly pinpoint, not lovers, not friends.
Then one day you cracked, like an egg, somewhere in the middle, slicing you in half. A long time coming. I can’t do this anymore, you had told Alejandro, sobbing, huddling in the tub, under the water. You could feel the water in your lungs, the tightness of your chest, in your throat. I can’t breathe, I can’t, I- You don’t remember him turning off the water, gently pulling you out, but you remember him wrapping the towel around you, hugging you to warm you up, brushing your wet hair with his fingertips, rubbing the water of your back. You can, of course you can.
You remember telling him you were done, that when Matt would receive your resignation letter tomorrow you would be long gone. You owed him that, the truth, the why, before leaving and never seeing him again. You couldn’t bear the thought of him wondering, the pain it could cause of losing someone again. Don’t do this, you know what they think when people leave, what they will do.
What they will make me do, he meant, and here he is.
You let yourself sink into the pillows, feel the tightness in your throat, let your shoulders drop. Now that you are closer, you notice more grey in his hair, a sign that time hasn’t stopped for him either.
‘’ Now what? ‘’ You breathe. The air is thick, the room dark. What will you do now?
‘’ I’m not here for you. ‘’ His eyes soften, and he readjusts himself in his seat. ‘’ I killed Alarcón. I’m here because I’m done, it’s over. ‘’
I’m not here for you. I killed Alarcón. It is just Alejandro in your living room, plain, simple, soft Alejandro, no wolf, no sharp teeth, waiting to pounce. Him, here, after that, you think maybe he wants to talk about it. A shoulder to rest on, after all the stress from those years, the hard work, repressing everything down.
‘’ How do you feel? ‘’
‘’ I don’t know ‘’ His dark eyes are back on you. ‘’ Relieved, I guess. ‘’
You are still not over the fact that he is not here to kill you, only looking for comfort, friendship. Your fingers are still tightly wrapped around the armrest, and the fabric bristles as you let go.
‘’ You want a beer? ‘’ A peace offering.
‘’ Hmm. ‘’
You can tell Alejandro is somewhere far away now, deep in thought, going back to caress the cat as it snuggles back into him. He must be there, you think, where Alarcón was that day, he probably feels the gun in his hand, hears the bullets hit the ground. You know the way he remembers those things so clearly as if he was hovering, watching. He had told you so one night on the jet, when Matt was fast asleep on the couch, when you were seated across from him, when you had asked him if he had dreams too, as vivid, as bloodied. I don’t, he had said, and then motioning to his temple with a finger, but it’s in here, I’m always there.
You are alone in the kitchen for a minute and then you aren’t, turning around, knocking into him who is now in front of you, with so little space to spare. Alejandro takes the beer from your hand, gently discarding it on the countertop. You let his eyes run over your face, let him observe for whatever he is looking for. He opens his mouth and then closes it, swallowing words that he decides are not meant to be said.
‘’ I came here because I’m not sure what to do now. ‘’
After all of it, he means, now that his goal is achieved, that debts are paid and revenge is cold and done.
‘’ You’ll figure it out, you always do. ‘’
You don’t flinch when his palm reaches up, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he cups his hand around your face, cradling your jaw between his fingers. You let his fingers warm up your skin, letting the familiarity of it submerge you.
‘’ I meant it, ‘’ he whispers, ‘’ so pretty… ‘’
‘’ I think you need sleep. ‘’ You caution back. It feels overwhelming, having him here, so close, after so many months.
‘’ I guess. ‘’
He trails off, but he is not listening, there is a hunger in his eyes, and you remember all the nights he would look at you like this, soft, tender, something you could mistake for affection. The tip of his fingers caresses your hair, running down the side of your neck, feeling your pulse underneath his touch. He knocks out of it after a few seconds, letting his hand rest on your shoulder instead.
There is a seriousness in his eyes, an int of doubt, something different.
‘’ I know what I need. I’m going to Bogotá, and I want you to come with me. ‘’
I need you to, he means, you’ll be safe with me. You feel as if the wind has been knocked out of you, the blood pumping in between your ears is loud and heavy, you can’t hear yourself think.
I can’t, I-
You can, of course you can.
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jesuiscalmedammit · 1 year ago
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Blackmail – (14) This is the end || [Alejandro Gillick x reader x Matt Graver]
Previously: chapter 13
Note: 2 years. It's been almost 2 years since the last update. I'm terrible. But anyway, here's the final chapter.
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It took a few months, but eventually you managed to loosen up in Alejandro’s presence. The awkward feeling slowly melted away and happiness gradually took its place, bringing back the feelings you had forgotten about in the past year or so. The warmth he radiated when he was around you was in stark contrast with his cold, calculated personality when he was working. You were drawn to him, every cell in your body wanted to be near him while he was at home and a delicate smile crept on your lips whenever you laid your eyes on him.
He had been gone for a week and you were missing him by now. The days like this, when you knew he was about to finally come home, were always filled with joy and anticipation. You just wanted to hug him again to know he was alive and well. Sure, there could be small wounds or bruises, but those were nothing you couldn't handle.
You were planning to cook dinner for him—his favorite, no less—along with a dessert you had learned from a friend you made in Bogotá not long ago. When he sent a message from the airport that he would be home in two hours because he had to take care of something first, you began to cook then quickly did your hair and make-up before picking a dress you thought he would like to see on you.
This was the day when you knew you were ready to make a move on him. Until now you had been sleeping in separate bedrooms, but tonight you wanted to change this. It was time to let things go back to the way they had been before he left you.
The front door opened shortly before everything was ready in the kitchen, so you didn’t have the opportunity to go and meet him there. Instead you waited for him to go to you, and turned away from the food for a second to give him a kiss when he stopped next to you and put a hand on the small of your back. He looked a little confused at first, probably not understanding why you suddenly changed your mind, but then he flashed a warm smile at you then headed to the living room.
“It smells great,” he said, referring to the food. “Thank you for taking the time to cook for me. I’m starving.”
You couldn’t help but giggle. “I knew you would be so focused on work that you forget to eat all day,” you told him almost scoldingly.
Alejandro shook his head before turning his attention to his phone. You didn’t mind the silence, at least you could pay full attention to the food in front of you. Within a few minutes you could put the plates on the table while he poured you both some wine. Everything went so smoothly without exchanging words that you wondered how you hadn’t noticed things were back to normal before.
To your surprise, he began to tell you about his latest job, going into just enough details to feed your curiosity without saying too much. He wanted to keep you away from that part of his life now that you successfully left it behind. You were honestly grateful for that. Sure, you had gotten used to the cruelty on Matt’s team, but it didn’t mean you agreed with it.
By the time you served the dessert, the two of you got lost in a pleasant conversation. He had plans; plans to take you away for a long weekend somewhere nice, to take you to a restaurant in a neighboring town he had just heard of, and to stay home and watch your favorite movies with you. These were things you had done when you were together as a real couple, so you guessed it was his way of returning things to the old normal.
Once you finished, you quickly put the empty plates into the dishwasher then returned to Alejandro with a seductive smile on your lips, your hand already extended to him. He stood up and took your hand without a question, silently watching you before leaning down to kiss you, his movements surprisingly hesitant. Maybe he wasn't sure if he decoded your signals correctly, after all you'd been keeping your distance since you arrived, but you were quick to take the lead and deepen the kiss that felt oh-so-good after all this time.
“I missed this. I missed you,” he corrected himself with a smile. You were by now grinning from ear to ear, your chin resting on his shoulder as you pressed your body as close to his as possible. “Does this mean things will be back to normal?”
���Normal as in how they used to be before you had to leave?” Alejandro hummed in agreement and you placed a soft kiss on the base of his neck. “I think so. I'm sorry it took me this long,” you said quietly.
To your surprise, he let out a short laugh at this then leaned back to grab your chin and make you look at him. “You don't have to apologize. You were with someone else before I returned, I would have found it alarming if you could jump back into this relationship without a problem.”
The always thoughtful and understanding man you loved so much. It was nice to know he was still there for you despite what you had done with his good friend. You were afraid in the beginning that he would be mad at you for being with Matt, believing you both betrayed his trust, but that wasn't the case. He understood that there had always been some sort of weird, twisted connection between the two of you, and it was only a matter of time before something like this happened.
********
It was three in the morning when you woke up from a dream that wasn't really a nightmare, but wasn't a pleasant one either. Your arms were wrapped around Alejandro's body with your head resting on his shoulder, and you watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed in his sleep. After all those months you dreamed about the day you had arrived, more specifically the moment you found an unfamiliar phone in your suitcase with a note from Matt.
Maybe you remembered because Alejandro brought him up after dinner, but now you couldn't really get past your rising curiosity. You had never checked that phone. You never turned it on to see what was on it, to see if there were any messages left for you. As the minutes slowly passed, you couldn't stop thinking about it. All you had to do was quietly leaving this bedroom and heading to your own, opening the suitcase and turning on the damn thing. It wasn't that hard.
After carefully placing a kiss on his collarbone, you slowly let go of him and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for a few moments to see if he woke up. But there was nothing, he was sleeping soundly without noticing your absence. Gulping, you walked into your room and took the phone from the bottom of the closet. You turned it on and it asked for the SIM card’s PIN code. How could you possibly know that? You checked the note it came with, but there was nothing.
Then you tried the year you were born in, a long shot, you knew, but to your biggest surprise that was it. And soon the notifications began to arrive from a messaging app. Every single message came from the same person.
Matt: Are you in Bogotá? I'm sure he went back there.
Matt: Are you okay?
Matt: Is everything okay there?
Matt: Look, I know it must be weird to be with him again, if you want to talk to someone, I'm here.
Matt: Don't you miss your family and friends?
Matt: You can come back anytime.
Matt: Come back to us.
Matt: Why aren't you reading these? Come on, open the app and read them.
Matt: Answer me, please.
Matt: Steve was shot. He's okay. He said he wished you were here with us.
Matt: I hope you know that we all miss you.
Matt: I called your parents. Some kid had told them you were working in the middle of nowhere on another continent and you wouldn't be able to call them. I assured them you were okay and they seemed relieved. I hope it wasn't a lie and you're really okay.
Matt: I miss you.
Matt: My wife knows, by the way. I told her I slept with someone. We're going to counseling, although I doubt that could help us. All I can think about is you. It's been three months and I'm sitting here like some lovesick puppy. Pathetic.
Matt: [message deleted]
Matt: Is he treating you right?
You let out a groan after the last message. He knew Alejandro, he knew he would always treat you right. Shaking your head, you began to type a reply.
You: Stop writing to me.
Just when you were about to turn off the device, it vibrated in your hand.
Matt: I was beginning to think you would never read these.
You: I just found this phone and wanted to see what you did with it.
Matt: But you read the messages.
You: Out of curiosity.
Matt: You can’t let me go.
You: I only wrote to you to make you stop.
Matt: If that was true, you would’ve stopped after the first message. But you keep replying.
You: Why are you even awake this late?
Matt: I'm on a mission, we had a long night and I can't sleep. I could be asking you the same thing, though.
You: I was looking for something and bumped into this phone.
Matt: In the middle of the night?
You: Try to get some sleep. Take care.
Matt: WAIT!
Matt: I need to know if you're that annoyingly happy couple again.
You: We're getting there.
Matt: Good for him.
“What are you doing?” you suddenly heard Alejandro's voice from the door. He had his arms folded over his chest as he watched you, but his posture wasn't threatening at all. You felt safe, even when he sat down next to you and took the phone from your hand to read the messages. “I never thought he would end up like this. Didn't seem like the type of man who gets this obsessed with someone.”
You drew in a deep breath as you looked at him. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have checked it,” you apologized quietly. But he wasn't mad. Instead he kissed your temple before turning his attention to the device. “Let's just turn it off again, okay?” you suggested.
Shaking his head, Alejandro between to type, so you leaned closer to see what he was writing.
You: We're happy, don't ruin it. Focus on fixing your marriage. - Alejandro
Matt: Guess it means she couldn't keep it from you. You okay?
You: Do you even care?
Matt: I thought we were friends.
You: Goodbye, Matt.
With that he turned off the device and gave it back to you. “Do you want to go back?” he asked you.
You leaned your head on his shoulder and put the phone on the bed behind you. “I have everything I need here, why would I want to go?”
“Maybe because you miss your family.”
You did miss them, that was true, but he was now your family too. Leaving him just didn't feel right, you were feeling the same as you had a year ago. Your heart was filled with this warm and soft feeling that was most probably the kind of love only he could make you feel, and there was an invisible string pulling you back to him every time you left his side.
After inhaling and exhaling, you laced your fingers with his and said, “Matt told them I was okay. He would have told me if something was wrong with them.”
“One day we'll go and meet them, okay? I'll arrange it.” He kissed your head softly, his nose buried in your hair until he waited for your reaction. When you hummed in agreement, he let out a short laugh. “Remember that restaurant we went to before that mission last year?”
“Oh, of course I do. I haven't had anything nearly as good since that,” you told him with a dreamy sigh.
“I have a reservation for tonight. I wanted to surprise you, but I think you could use this information after all of this,” he said, and you could tell he was smiling as he talked. “We’re gonna be okay, won't we?”
You looked up at him, just silently observing him for a while before finally making a move and leaning in to kiss him. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as he kissed you back, his movements becoming more and more impatient before he finally pushed you on the bed. As long as you understood each other without words, things would surely be okay, you knew that.
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doughmonkey · 2 years ago
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People of AO3, has it ever happened to you that you can't work, can't think straight because you are writing scenes in your head, important conversations, and LIFE just keep butting in and makes you annoyed because you NEED to write these down, urgently but there is WORK to be done and priorities, but you feel like your writing is more important? And you can't tell anyone around you about this? And you keep hiding your little notebook with your hastily scribbled down sentences and your special pen (which writes so smootly that you are never going to buy another brand?)
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wardenparker · 3 months ago
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Bones Full of Words, ch 8
Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.
He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues, canon typical violence* Jealousy, poor communication, arguing, poor decision making, violence, kidnapping, gun violence, murder, death. Summary: Upset with Javier and determined to do things your own way, the tension in the apartment propels you into a situation no one could have predicted. Notes: High violence warning this chapter! It's all canon-typical, but Narcos is a high-violence show. Please be advised that this chapter does contain multiple instances of gun use and gun violence. (As usual, I apologize for an errors I may have missed in editing.)
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7
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Because he asked you to keep an eye out, you don’t leave the apartment that day. Cooking in silence and sitting down with your notepad is the most you can manage for daily activity but it’s better than nothing. When you’re able to leave tonight you’ll be out there with fire in your heart.
Elisa hears you moving around in the kitchen, but when she comes out, you are already back in your bedroom. Unsure of why she feels a chill in the air, and wanting to apologize if she’s overstepping.
Chi-Chi hears her coming before you do, shifting over from her place on the bed to face the door when footsteps sound. “It’s not worth it, girl,” you murmur to the large dog. Even if you do appreciate the sentiment.
Biting her lip, Elisa reaches out to knock on the door before she pulls her hand back. Uncertain if she is imagining the frostiness. Or if it’s any of her business.
Can you keep an eye on her for me? Javier’s words ring in your head and almost make you so frustrated you decide to ignore the knock altogether, but you promised. You promised, and he’s…he is more to you than you are to him.
After a long moment of deliberation, you pat Chi-Chi’s back and get up.
She hears you move around and takes a step back from the doorway so she isn’t right in your face. Smiling politely when you open the door.
“Hi.” What else are you supposed to say to the woman unknowingly fucking your soulmate?
“Hi.” She is kind of stuck now and she gestures towards the kitchen. “I, uh, I didn’t know if you had anything in there that I shouldn’t touch?”
“No. Groceries are for everyone.” Everyone is really just two of you and one very spoiled dog, but you’re not about to get into semantics with her. All you’ll say, to keep further guilt at bay, is what’s necessary. “I promised Javier we would stay inside today. The only time I’ll leave is to walk the dog and even then I’ll stay right outside the windows.”
“Okay.” She nods, wondering when you two talked, but that’s not her business. “I’ll try to stay out of your way.”
“You surprised me last night.” It comes out of your mouth unbidden, blurted out into the tense silence between you almost like sick. “I didn’t know anyone else would be here.”
“I’m sorry.” She bites her lip and looks down the hallway uncomfortably. “It was sudden. I had to be taken somewhere safe and Connie suggested Javier. Since he works with Steve.”
“You know Connie and Steve?” That is news to you — Javier has never once offered for you to spend time with his partner and his wife, although you know their names from the embassy and stories. Then again, why would he offer?
She nods. “I worked with Connie at the clinic.” She admits. “That’s how we met.”
"That explains the scrubs." She's dressed in what must be her own clothes today. Presumably they were either washed and dried here in the apartment, or she hadn't been wearing them long enough yesterday for anything to get dirty.
“Yeah.” She looks down at her clothes and chuckles. “I didn’t have time to get anything.” She admits. “Connie said she would get me something to wear so I don’t have to just wear this.”
"She sounds like a nice woman." As opposed to you – even if this woman wouldn't be swimming in your clothes, you still wouldn't offer. Purely out of bitter jealousy.
“She is.” There’s something brittle in your tone and Elisa decides it’s best to end the conversation. “I’ll let you get back to…whatever it is you are doing.” She offers. “Uh, thanks for the information.”
"Help yourself to something to eat." There just isn't much else to say to her. If you let yourself say whatever pops into your head you might end up yelling and there's just no point in that. It's not her fault that you went and developed feelings for your soulmate. It's not her fault that you let your heart get in the way. "Javier usually works late, but he'll probably come back sooner since you're here."
“I doubt it.” She snorts and shrugs. “He’s not one to really be tied down, is he? He’s nice enough, but he’s not really a homebody, right?” She’s sure that plenty of women have paraded in and out of here.
"Not really." Not that you are, either. You wouldn't go so far as to claim that. But you wonder if she's fishing for reassurance, and can't stomach the idea of Javier deciding that she is worth coming home to instead of you. He might, though. He really might. "I'm sure once he finds the right person, that's all it will take."
She shrugs, knowing that it won’t be her. “Hopefully I’ll only be in your way for a few days.” She tells you.
"It will be whatever it will be." It isn't your call, after all. Whatever she's really doing here and whatever she is to Javier? Those things are between them. You're just his roommate. And that has never stung more than it does right now.
“That’s a nice outlook.” She licks her lips and wipes her hands on her pants. “Well, I’m going to get something to eat.”
"Okay." Considering this conversation has gone on far longer than you prefer, that is perfectly fine with you. "Just..." You may not like this woman, or the fact of her being here, but you're not cruel. "Don't eat what's in the white plastic container. That's Chi-Chi's food. You wouldn't like it very much."
She laughs, waving her hand appreciatively as she turns to walk down the hall. “Thanks!” She calls back.
“Sure.” You murmur at her back, thudding the door shut behind her, wishing you could have just ignored her existence altogether.
There’s something there. Elisa mulls it over as she goes through the cabinets and figures out something to eat. She just doesn’t know exactly what.
******
Chi-Chi is the first to sound the alarm when the front door opens in the late afternoon, though her barking turns to happy howls and a vibrant wagging of her tail when she sees Javier walk through the door instead of an intruder. The alert had brought you out of your bedroom though – with a paperweight in your hand to lob at any intruder who might dare to invade your space.
Instead, the sight of your soulmate makes your stomach turn. "You're home early."
Javi turns when he hears you, seeing the expression on your face and the paperweight in your hand. “Yeah.” He turns back to the door and locks it securely before looking back at you again. “Steve sent me home. Figured you’d babysat enough.”
"Good." Normally having some extra time in the apartment together would be cause for a homemade dinner and maybe even a movie, but you're loathe to suggest spending time together tonight. It simply isn't even worth considering. Instead, you shift the paperweight in your hands and your own weight from foot to foot. "I'll get ready and go work, then." You huff quietly, mostly at yourself. "Shift change."
“I don’t think you should go out tonight.” Javi has thought about how to approach it all day and he knows you won’t be happy about it. “But, if you have to go, let me send on of the SearchBloc with you.” It seemed like a good compromise, and since he couldn’t leave Elisa home alone, it was better than not having anyone with you. “Trujillo said he wouldn’t mind.”
While he isn't necessarily wrong to be concerned about safety in most of the city, the way your hackles raise at something you would otherwise consider a kind gesture is just...it is so indicative of your stubborn nature as much as your current heartache. "I don't need a babysitter," you tell him unilaterally. "That's apparently a service I provide, not something I need. Besides, I never even told you where I'm going tonight. For all you know I'm interviewing the ambassador in her ridiculous mansion."
He doesn’t know what burr is up your ass and he says as much. “Why are you being fucking difficult?” He hisses, narrowing his eyes at you in annoyance.
"Me?" That earns him a deep eye roll. "You're the one begging for favors and then trying to hinder my work with an asshole in a uniform. Do you know how hard it is to do my job with a cop standing over my shoulder? No one will talk to me."
“He can be discreet.” Javi tells you, knowing that the younger man would wear regular clothes if he told him too. “I would go myself, but-“ he gestures down the hall towards his room where Elisa most likely is.
"What makes you think I would bring you with me, either?" The paperweight in your hand thunks on the nearest flat surface with determination. "All of a sudden you give a shit what happens to me?"
He frowns at your venom, the bile that he hears. “What the hell is your problem?” He demands, getting pissed and glaring at you.
The truth of it is far too cutting, and the heat blasting in your fury keeps you from holding your tongue. "You." You spit back at him, before stalking down the hall and back into your room. There is goddamn work to do and you can't go out into Bogotá at night with tear streaks down your face looking like a mopey schlub. You have to get yourself the fuck together, and you definitely can't do that around Javier.
Javi stares after you, jumping slightly when you slam the door shut and blows out a frustrated sigh. You two had been getting along and now you had come back from your night out with an attitude that was almost worst than the one you had when you first met him. “Fuck.” He hisses under his breath.
"Javi?" Elisa is standing in the doorway of his room, having heard the commotion and stayed well out of harm's way.
“Hey.” He frowns, knowing that she had to have heard and he doesn’t have one damn clue on how to explain that. “Connie gave a bag of clothes to Steve.” He tells her, motioning to the bag he had dropped by the door.
"Thank you." The coast seems to be clear, and she comes out into the living room to retrieve the bag – but also you say hello. "Your roommate is..." She frowns, considering what words to use. "It seems safe to guess that she dislikes me."
“She was rude to you?” He frowns even more, sure you would have at least taken to her and interviewed her. You always ask about anyone involved in the case against Escobar and now you seem practically apathetic towards the best witness he has.
"No." Elisa shakes her head. Once she has picked up the duffel bag from the door, she leans into his side and presses a kiss to his cheek. "But being overly polite is sometimes worse and has more tension than anything else. We only spoke this morning."
He grunts and shakes his head. “She is being stubborn about something.” He doesn’t understand it, but you are a grown ass woman.
"I'm sorry if my being here has caused tension," she offers, not really sure what else to say.
“It’s not you.” He assures her, although he has no proof of that. But this isn’t her fault, no matter what. “Have you had dinner?”
"Not yet." Truth be told, she was waiting for him. For a touch of comfort and companionship. Fresh clothes, a good meal, and Javi will take care of all of those needs.
“Okay.” He nods. “I can order something to be delivered.” He orders with a small shrug of his shoulders.
"Ah." She nods in understanding. "It's her cooking in the refrigerator. Not yours."
“Yeah.” He admits with a grin. “I can make you some eggs and toast. That’s about it. Or slap a sandwich together.”
"There is nothing wrong with a sandwich." Far be it from her to turn her nose up at any kind of food, really. She isn't a fussy or picky kind of woman. "What did your ambassador say?"
"It's going to take a day or so to get clearance," Javi admits. "But with the attack on the Palace, they want to get you to a safe location. One where you can't be touched by Escobar." He doesn't mention that the military is demanding to know who she is and interrogate her.
“I wish I could go back for some of my things,” Elisa admits, but she knows it isn’t possible. The target on her back is too large and too clear. “But thank you. When it is finally safe to come home again I might to thank you for that, as well.”
He knows what she means by thanking him and his cock twitches in his jeans, even as he is glancing down the hallway towards your room. “We can cross that bridge when we come to it.”
"Or perhaps when your roommate leaves." Elisa shrugs, not wanting to get into the complications of it. She will not be here for long and it is not her life. "You wanted dinner, I think?"
Grateful that the other woman in his life isn’t trying to argue with him, he nods. “Do you have something specific you want?” He offers, pulling out the take out menus.
"No, I'm flexible." She pauses, smirking at that, and catches Javi's eye to have him smirking, too. They had tested that fact very well yesterday.
He almost comments, but you open the door to the bedroom and come marching out. Javi looks down at the menus and grabs the one off the top. The Indian restaurant. “How about here?”
"Sure." She really doesn't mind much and it's clear that the tension in the apartment extends to him and doesn't simply emanate from you.
"I'm leaving." Wearing slightly more revealing clothing that you normally would and checking the purse you have stashed your notebook and a pen into along with your essentials, you breeze straight past them without looking around. "I might stay with Inez tonight." There are no more courtesies than that, no other explanations about where you're going or what you expect to do. Things that you might have told him if you weren't so pissed at yourself for expecting him to simply intuit the change in your feelings.
“Okay.” Javi frowns, wishing you would stop and talk to him, or at least take him up on his offer of Trujillo, but you just walk out the door. The silence lingers for a moment and Javi clears his throat. “Pour us a drink while I order, hm?”
"Sure." Elisa nods again and moves to the bar cart that Javi keeps in his living room. She has a feeling that he will need more than one, but that is up to him. "Whiskey?"
“Yeah.” He answers, picking up the receiver from the hook in the kitchen and dialing the restaurant. He doesn’t know what exactly to do, but he can only handle one problem at the time right now.
******
The night is oppressively hot and sticky, not yet cool enough to have brought the temperature down in the city and the warmth of so many people swirling through the busy streets as people go about their evening plans. Powered by frustration as much as anything else, you make your way through the streets on foot to catch a cab to your old neighborhood.
The cab driver asks if that is where you really want to go, shaking his head and sighing when you say yes and starts to drive cautiously towards the area of town that has grown increasingly violent.
The man you’re going to interview was displaced by the raid on the club just like you and Inez, with a similar situation of a landlord evicting their tenants and selling the property to get away from sicarios invading the neighborhood. He has promised a full interview with both him and his brother as anonymous sources, and suggested a semi-public place to meet. There are dangers, of course, there always are, but if you’re normally stubborn about things…Right now you’re downright blind to them.
The small café is around the corner from the old building the club used to be housed in. Rundown, one of the widows is boarded up from being shot out just two days ago. The waitress gives you a nervous look when you walk in the door.
“I’m meeting some friends,” you tell her politely, trying not to fidget in the clothes you picked for tonight. They’re not really not revealing but they’re more fashionable than you normally choose so you feel a bit like you’re on display. “Could I have a coffee please?”
“Sure.” She motions towards the empty tables, the seating area empty besides you. She can tell you are American and that makes her even more uncomfortable.
Convincing yourself that the tension in the air is you projecting your own emotions on the place, you sit and sip your coffee with one eye on the door. Everything is fine. You’re just upset and it’s making you prickly.
The cook in the back slips outside, unobserved by you and the waitress taps nervously on the counter as she waits for something to happen.
Five minutes click by. Then ten. Your coffee wasn’t the best but you know you’re a snob about it so you don’t say anything to the anxious-looking waitress. It isn’t until the door open again and a short man with thick, dark hair walks in wearing the promised blue linen shirt and denim jacket that you show any interest in anything whatsoever.
His eyes find you in the corner with your back to the kitchen and he plasters a smile on his face as he walks over to you. Saying your name for confirmation, to make sure that it’s you. As though there is anyone else in this seedy little café to be confused for.
“Is your brother not able to join us?” Enrique has turned up alone with a cigarette behind his ear and a friendly smile. “Join me. Have a seat.”
“He will be here.” Enrique promises, smirking slightly as he pulls out a chair and flops down into it opposite you. “Had to do something first.” He looks around and notices that you don’t seem to have anyone with you. “You came alone?”
“The nature of what we have to talk about is relatively private.” Hence the cafe — deserted aside from its employees, although you were bolstered to see the large window through to the kitchen, ensuring more than just the waitress for witnesses.
He nods and plucks the cigarette out from behind his ear and produces a lighter from a pocket of his jacket. “Figured you would have that DEA agent with you.” He comments as he blows out the first puff of smoke.
“…What DEA agent?” You hadn’t said a word about Javier in your phone call with this man, and suddenly the tense air in the cafe goes from thick to oppressive. All it takes is an instant and you’re wondering if you can get to the door before the man twice your height can block the way.
“The one who has been passing the word that the American woman journalist looking for an apartment is under his protection.” He continues conversationally and points at you with the cigarette between his fingers. “That is you, no?”
You’re going to fucking kill him. You’re going to tear Javier Peña a new asshole the second you get home tomorrow. He blew your fucking credibility that bastard! “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You manage to lie without stammering or sounding fearful. For that, you will reward yourself later. With rum. “I have a place and I certainly don’t work with the DEA.”
“Yes, you do.” He smiles, a thin stretch of his lips that has lost the charm from earlier. “Someone wants to meet you.”
The front door is probably no more than twelve feet away. The door to the kitchen is only five or six, but you would have to wind through the whole thing blindly to find the exit, and potentially give this stranger the opportunity of pick up a weapon. The front door is the cleanest choice. You remember the way to the nearest busy neighborhood center from here and at this time of day you can blend into the crowds making their way into bars and clubs. That will give you enough time to duck into a bathroom and get another cab.
In the split second it takes you to make all of these plans, you wrap your wrist in the chain of your purse under the table and move your feet as subtly as you possibly can. Using the bottom of the booth to push off like a runner in the Olympics, you sprint for the door.
Only to find the way blocked as soon as you reach the frame.
Grabbing your arms, his ‘brother’ grins as you as he holds you. “You don’t want to leave, do you?” He tsks and Enrique laughs. “Pablo would be so disappointed.”
Pablo.
“I can’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know.” That, at least, is true. Your job is only to gather information and report. The information that he is putting out into the world. Him and his sicarios — the misery and mayhem that they reap.
“He can be the one who decides that.” You are turned from the door, a gun in Enrique’s hand now. Pointed at you. “Let’s go. Out the back.”
You don’t need to glance at the bar to know the waitress is gone, and you don’t need to even think twice to know that you are not going home or to Inez’s tonight. In fact, you’re probably not going home ever again. If you’re lucky, they’ll just kill you outright is all you can think, with the imagine of Helena’s nearly comatose body in your head.
One foot in front of the other, you are marched through the abandoned coffee shop and out through the kitchen, where the only employee pays you no mind whatsoever and another man is sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. The puddle of white fabric in the dirt might be an apron, you can’t tell.
“The trunk.” The motion of the gun guides you to the back of the car and he smirks when you try to push back against the man behind you. “Don’t make it harder. He said we had to get you to him, not what condition you had to be in.”
“There’s no reason for him to waste so much effort on me,” you repeat, annoyed when your own not inconsiderable strength does nothing to help you.
Both men chuckle and your hands are bound behind your back. “It’s no effort at all.” Enrique taunts. “You came like a lamb to the slaughter.”
It's insulting how true that assessment is, and even more insulting when the two men shove you into the trunk of the car and slam it shut while laughing to each other in Spanish, as if you don't understand them perfectly. The slamming doors rock the car, and the movement of the two large men settling into seats shifts you back and forth even more, but it doesn't matter.
Your hands have been duct taped so thoroughly that even your fingers are bunched together and your eyes aren't adjusting to the darkness of the trunk like you expected them to. Trying to compensate for your lost and muddled senses makes paying attention to the car's twists and turns very difficult, and even though you know this neighborhood you lose track of the route you've driven after about ten minutes.
That would be bad enough on its own, but then the driving doesn't stop. Deep potholes jolt you violently hour after hour until you've managed to bite your lip and tongue bloody from the way the car bounces and your head has hit the top or bottom of the trunk just hard enough that you're wondering if you might have a slight concussion from it.
But hour after hour, it never stops and the car never slows.
It’s only when you’ve completely lost track of what time it is, and fell asleep a few times that the car stars to slow down. Creeping along for a few minutes before finally stopping. Arriving at your destination.
The stopping is what wakes you, as cars open and close and the vehicle jostles multiple times. Voices raise outside the trunk, muffled but audible. When the key turns in the lock and the trunk is flung open, your intention to throw yourself off the floor of the thing and lash out with feet if nothing else, is abruptly squashed by the fist that comes down on your cheek. You see the outside world just long enough to know that it's near sunrise when a cloth bag is put over your head and you're manhandled out of the trunk back onto your feet.
Two different pairs of hands grab at you. Shoving you along and when you struggle, one of them punches you in the stomach and makes you double over, gasping for air. “Move, bitch!” It’s not Enrique’s voice this time, but the tone is evil. The voice of a man who has no sympathy in his entire body for anyone.
It feels like they intentionally trip you on a short flight of stairs, pulling you up again by your armpits when you stumble and fall, landing on stone not just once or twice but three times. From the way your shins sting and ache, you've got a few cuts and will have throbbing muscles in no longer than an hour from now. If you even make it another hour. The possibility that you won't is unnervingly real.
“Sit her down.” The voice comes from your left, the order in Spanish and there is the slight sound of a disappointed sigh. “What have I told you about kidnapping women?” The voice says. “You treat them with respect.”
"American pig." Sneers one of the other voices that you don't recognize. If you can figure out who it is later on – and if your mouth is ever untaped – you'll spit right in his eye.
“But a valuable one.” There’s the sound of footsteps and the scrapping of a chair as one is dragged closer to where you are standing. “Remove the bag.”
The fabric is ripped from your head, definitely taking some hair with it, and suddenly you become sharply aware that you're facing east. Sunrise is blinding you so badly that you have to flinch away and let your eyes adjust. Which means it's almost a full minute of standing there before you realize that Pablo Escobar is the figure outlined by the rising run.
Your full, government name is said, leaving no doubt that the biggest drug lord in Colombia knows who you are. They had gone through your purse on the way here, but that’s not the point. “Please, sit.” Pablo offers, motioning to the chair in front of you.
For the rest of your life, regardless of how long that is, you're going to be proud of yourself for not immediately pissing yourself in fear at the sight of him. He's nothing special. Not really. A mid-height chubby man with curly hair and an unfortunate mustache. He looks very...disarmingly...normal. But this ruthless murderer is not to be underestimated.
So you sit.
“Ah.” Pablo smiles, the gesture meant to be disarming and charming. “And they say Americans are stubborn.” The men around him chuckle but he keeps his eyes on you. “Forgive our manners.” He tells you, not really meaning it. “I’m afraid that it has become harder to talk to the people I need to now.”
The irony does not escape you, and you shoot him a look that says I can't talk to anyone at all right now while momentarily slipping your grip on the fact that this situation is deadly serious. Thankfully, the man laughs and waves one hand, which one of his armed flunkies takes as a direction to come over and rip the duct tape off of your mouth.
Pablo watches as you hiss in pain and move your jaw around. “There. Now we can talk.” He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “What is your connection to the DEA?”
"I have none." That hasn't stopped being true – or mostly true – just because they drove you out of the city and out to what looks like one of Pablo's mansions.
“Then why was a DEA agent saying he as protecting you?” He snaps his fingers at one of this men. “What was the asshole’s name?”
"Peña." Supplies Enrique. Or, the man who told you that his name was Enrique.
Fucking hell. Why did soulmate have to be such a meddler?
"I don't know why he said that," you answer honestly. Mostly because it doesn't make any fucking sense to you but also because you really don't know his logic.
“Is he fucking you?” Pablo drags his eyes up and down your body. You aren’t bad, but you are thicker than he likes. Tata would like you though.
"No." To date, Javier Peña has never even hugged you or any much physical contact with you at all. Which is what makes his claims of protection so aggravating. It's like it's a performance on his part.
“And you are a journalist?” He asks, tilting his head as he wonders why the DEA agent is interested in protecting someone that he isn’t fucking.
"Yes." If he knows your name and he knows who Javier is, then he already knows that. There's no point is denying it when he basically catfished you with a phony story for your column.
He takes another drag off his cigarette and slowly exhales the smoke. Considering his options and then nodding. “You will interview me.” He decides, smirking slightly at his genius idea.
"Excuse me?" The idea of it takes you so off guard that you just stare at him for a moment, but he looks so fucking pleased with himself and is already motioning around to his men and issuing rapid fire orders. Someone is to bring him a chair. Someone else a drink. A third person is sent to fetch his breakfast. Still another is waved inside to check on Tata. You're fairly certain he didn't even hear your confusion over his own self-satisfaction, but you manage to cut through the noise of movement with your second thought. "I'll need my hands for that. To take notes."
“Bring a notepad and a pencil!” Pablo shouts after the men, cursing when he realizes that no one else is here to cut you loose. “You try to run and I will put a bullet in your head.” He tells you casually as he pulls out his gun and shows it to you. “Then I will have my men in America kill your family. Understand?”
Your family. The thought of Escobar sending goons to carry out hits on your mother and your brothers terrifies you far more than anything he could do to you, and you nod once. "I understand."
“Good.” He gives you that charming smile again, but his eyes are watchful, calculating. “Then you will write the story and tell the real truth about what is happening here.”
It's an odd and sickening guarantee. You will live long enough to write your article. To carry his words to the world. Whether or not they let you live longer is up in the air and highly improbable – but if you can drag this out a little you might be able to figure out how to survive. Attempting an escape seems like a surefire way to get his sicarios sent after your family, and you aren't willing to take the chance he may not be bluffing about having that ability.
The men return, another chair and a table being brought in. Notepad with several sharpened pencils are slapped down on it. One cold coke in a glass bottle, obviously not for you, and then a bottle of water that might be for you are also added.
You're careful not to look anywhere but at your hands in front of you, somehow convinced that making eye contact with any of these people will end in violence. On Escobar's orders your legs are tightly tied to the chair and the tape is cut from your hands. There is no way you're going anywhere, but at least you can flex your fingers and feel the blood flow return to them.
"Where do you want to be begin?" Pablo asks curiously before he turns in his own seat and berates one of his sicarios for not bringing an ashtray to the table.
"Well..." Reaching for the notepad and a pencil with tentative hands, you flip open to the first page and instinctively date the top line. Swallowing is a dry and hazy endeavor but you manage to remind yourself to breathe. "Let's start with your full name and where we are." The more corroborating information that you can get, the better. Maybe after the article is done and Escobar inevitably has you shot, the work will still help convict him somehow.
"Pablo Emilio Escobar Gaviria." He announces his name dramatically and with a slight hint of theatrical flair. He is vain enough to know that most people, even Americans, recognize his name. What he craves is respectability. "We are in—" He tilts his head and smirks slightly at the attempt to get information from him on your location. "Colombia."
"You don't have to give me the longitude and latitude." You're not dumb enough to think wherever you are actually has an address. "But...in general. Are we at your home? A safe house? The home of a business associate?"
His brows furrow in anger, his jaw tightening. "In hiding." He spits, sneering at the mere thought of the indignity. "Because of your fucking DEA."
"That must be very hard for you." The top of the page is marked out with the date and the name of your subject, and from there your pencil flies across the pages. Taking down direct quotes from both Escobar and you – questions and answers exactly as they're said. Your training is kicking in despite the fear. Writing in shorthand ensures that you can actually get everything down without having to pause in the conversation and ruin the flow. "To have to hide with your family when you are also working to be a community leader?" He did run for office, after all. You aren't leading him fruitlessly.
"Why does America care about me?" Pablo demands. "I am a businessman." He stresses, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray and shaking his head. "I care about Colombia. But you are here, for me. Your DEA is here, for me." He shrugs. "Why do you care?"
"Your business has made it all the way to America." Calling it a business makes your skin crawl, but following his proverbial scent and the thread of the narrative he wants you to tell for him matters. "We are always interested to know about the people who bring their business to our country."
"Then ask me what you want to know." He offers.
The situation is so loaded from every angle that you almost don't know where to start. The drugs, the smuggling, the international reach of his enormous illicit business dealings. His family. His public image. You might be the only American reporter to ever get to sit down with the world's most infamous drug lord and squandering that opportunity is basically a waste of the end of your life – since you really are sure you won't make it out of this place alive.
"Start at the beginning," you offer, starting a new line in the notebook you've been given. It's a miracle that your hand isn't shaking too badly to write, but you're not going to question it. "When you started this business, what did you hope to achieve?"
“Support my family.” Pablo tilts his head, surprised by the question. “My mamá had this couch. Worn, broken.” He snorts. “It was a piece of shit. I wanted to buy her a new couch. To buy her things she sacrificed having raising me.”
“With a worldwide business, would you say that you have now achieved that goal?” The longer you can keep him talking, you decide, the better. The more he will feel you have become sympathetic to him. The more likely he is to perceive you as friendly and slip on something. Something seemingly insignificant that can be used against him somehow. You have to try. You have to try.
“Perhaps.” Pablo shrugs slightly. “Visions change. Goals broaden.” He crushes out the cigarette and picks up the Coke bottle to twist the lid off the drink to take a swallow.
“You have goals for more than just your family now?” He must, considering her ran for office, but you’re willing to pick up any thread he gives you.
“I want to be involved in politics.” Pablo admits, his expression tight. “I would be good at it.”
“Tell me what happened,” you prompt. Just breathe. Keep him talking. You’ll find the angle eventually and some tidbits along the way. “In your own words.”
Pablo starts to weave a tale of honorable intentions derailed by jealousy and a corrupt system that would not let him come to power. Finishing his coke during the long-winded story as you write notes.
If you had been asked what you expected to hear, this would be something close to it. A man who saw himself as a savior being thwarted at every turn, his good intentions stagnated time and time again. He truly must have no idea how bloviated with arrogance he sounds. How self-absorbed and self-righteous. How delusional.
The article he wants you to write and the one that you’ll print if you ever survive this horror show are two very different beasts.
“We should have a recorder.” Pablo frowns as he thinks of it, snapping his fingers at the man that is guarding the door.
Anything he wants is available to him at the snap of two fingers from either a man who looks terrified to misstep, or a man who looks smugly confident of his own self-importance. The juxtaposition is stark, but the ones who do the scurrying and fetching are the terrified ones.
“Thank you.” Even in your own anxieties and fears, somewhere in your mind you’re convinced that good manners might buy you a little more time. “This will be very helpful.”
“I would hate for the story to be misquoted.” Pablo muses, although his brow arches up. “Smoke?” He offers, holding out the pack as he waits for the machine to be brought in.
The idea of accepting anything from this absolute insect of a human being is repulsive and you almost can't even stomach it. But there is a solid chance that if you don't take the offering he'll be offended, and that could end in your end. More plainly put? You're not going to take the chance that Escobar will be so mad you rejected his 'gift' that he kills you for it. So you say yes and manage to even sound grateful through the strain of a dry throat and however many hours you were jostling around in that car.
He shakes out a cigarette for you to take and even pulls out his own zippo to light it. Flicking the striker even as he growls to the other man about what is taking so fucking long with the recorder.
For the first time in all of this, the thought in your head is wondering what Javier would think if he could see this now – and not in an angry and cursing sort of way. Just in the way where you are absolutely bewildered with every new moment of this.
And then suddenly, as Escobar is cursing out his men for taking too long, you know exactly what you're going to do. The chances of your surviving this are low. Infinitesimally low. And the notebook that you're writing in is entirely in shorthand. Unless one of Escobar's henchmen has studied to be a secretary at an American college, they're not going to be able to read your notes. Maybe that was folly, maybe it was just ingrained habit.
Either way, it is going to let you fill this notebook full. Two articles – one that Escobar will approve of and one that tells the entire truth of your kidnapping and everything you witness while in this compound.
So even though you won't make it out, there is at least a chance that the truth will survive you.
Waiting makes Pablo Escobar angry. He’s not a man who enjoys waiting for things. Especially when it appears to make him lose face in front of an American Journalist. Picking up the water bottle, he hurls it at the other man in the room. “Hurry the fuck up!”
A man skitters into view a minute later with a tape recorder in his hands, begging forgiveness and practically tripping over his own two feet to place the recorder on the table. A split second before it is fully set down, you realize with horror that there is no cassette tape inside.
It takes him two seconds, two bone chilling- heart stopping seconds. The fierce glare on his face is cruel, almost demonic. Pablo pulls out his gun as the man starts to back up, holding his hands in front of him. “Boss- boss, please-“ Escobar doesn’t give mercy, pulling the trigger three times and shooting the man down right in front of you.
Your heart stops. Breath catching in your lungs and blood running cold in your veins. And then your stomach lurches, revolting on you, and the only saving grace of the moment as you fall forward and dry heave in your seat is that there is nothing left in your stomach to actually empty out.
Pablo watches you retch as he puts his gun away. “He was disappointing.” He explains casually, not mentioning that the man had fucked up numerous times before.
Another man appears moments later with a new bottle of cold water to replace the broken one, and a fresh tape. He unwraps it from its plastic and plunks it down beside the machine without sparing you even a glance, but you don't care. You can't even process anything else. You had managed to make it this far in life without seeing anyone die, let alone be murdered in cold blood. But you can't say that anymore.
"I hope," you manage, feeling your throat croak and ache. "For everyone's sake, that no one else disappoints you."
Your pencil flies automatically, like some kind of ingrained reflex or biological imperative that operates entirely outside of your personal horror at the situation. It helps ground you, reminding you of the unyielding truth of this moment: that these horrors are, at their core, so deeply and terribly human. When you can breathe another steady breath, you reach for the tape recorder to hit the record and play buttons. “Let’s continue,” you manage, knowing how shaky your voice will sound on that tape.
“Perhaps I should start again?” Pablo asks, watching dispassionately as another couple of his men come into the room to drag out the body.
“For the record.” Speaking as clearly as you can into the tape recorder, you state your name — No use in pretending he doesn’t know it, he’s said it before. Even your middle name. — and the date. “Interview conducted in private at subject’s request.” It’s pure professionalism. Every single step meant to ensure that he believes you are taking him seriously. “The first part of this interview was taken by shorthand notes by the reporter.” Polite. Always polite. Looking back up at him and somehow managing not to flinch, you motion to the recorder. “Please state your name for the tape, as you have already done for my notes, and anything you would like to repeat. Then we will continue.”
He goes through the major points again, sending you a pleased smile when he comes back to the point where you had left off. “Now. We will talk business.” He nods.
“What kind of business would you like to talk?” He’s in the driver’s seat of this interview, after all. You’re just holding on for dear life.
“The kind that brought you to Colombia to write about me.” He smirks and picks up another cigarette.
******
It is a whole twenty-four hours after you are supposed to arrive at her apartment that Inez decides to call. She would have sooner but – as you always say – life happens and she just assumed that you had decided to go home again despite being annoyed with your Javier. Now that she is finally able to pick up the phone and call your apartment, she's wondering how you are feeling after your interview. If you got anything worth while out of the brothers who had contacted you.
Javi had been expecting a phone call from Steve, staying with Elisa today since you had decided not to come home. So when the phone rings in the apartment, he picks it up. “What have you learned?” He asks immediately.
"Um...hello?" Inez's voice fills with a frown. "Is this Javier?"
A woman’s voice. Javi rolls his eyes slightly as he tries not to sigh. He feels like he’s in a version of hell concerning the opposite sex. “Yes?” He asks, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Who is this?”
“My name is Inez.” In an instant she understands why you’re constantly so annoyed with this guy. He’s snappy and huffy on the phone, which means he probably doesn’t have much better manners in person. But the warm depth of his voice is nice. “I was calling for your roommate,” she tells him, adding your name in case he doesn’t remember who mentioning her to him in the past.
Javi pauses, frowning and his brow furrowing together. “You’re the bartender from where she used to live?” He asks, prompting her to confirm. “She’s not home. I guess she hasn’t made it back from your place.” He twists his head to look at the clock on the wall. “I’ll let her know when she gets in.” He doesn’t even want to unpack why it was so easy to say ‘home’ where you are concerned.
“She didn’t come home last night?” Inez’s voice is immediately tense.
“She….said she was staying at your place.” Javi’s gut curls, the warning bells starting to ring in the back of his mind. “What time did she leave?” You were angry enough that you might have gone to a bar and went home with someone, or went to the brothel. So the panic starting to creep into his veins could be completely unwarranted.
“She…never came over.” The sickening feeling of panic in her chest tightens and makes her stomach flip.
“What the fuck do you mean she never came over?” Javi growls, gripping the receiver tight in his fist.
“I figured she went home after the interview!” Inez defends, startled by his tone. “I was calling to check on her!”
“She hasn’t been back.” Javi breaks off in a string of curses. “Give me your number, I’ll call you back.”
Quickly rattling off a string of numbers, Inez takes no offense when he slams down the receiver afterward without saying goodbye. She’s shaken and fearful, left sitting on her couch wondering what the fuck happened, and wondering if she should call Vanessa.
As soon as Javi slams down the phone, he is picking it up again, calling Vanessa. Trying to ignore the way his fingers shake as he punches the buttons.
“Hello?” Vanessa’s voice is bright and cheery when she picks up her private line.
“Vanessa, please tell me that—” Javi says your name almost desperately, “came over and is still with you or Freckles? Or fuck, any of the girls?”
“What?” Vanessa frowns immediately. Javi never sounds scared or panicked unless there is a very good reason. And right now he sounds both. “No. I don’t think so? Hold on.” Freckles is there in the room with her, having just finished with a particularly irksome client. “You haven’t seen our girl lately, have you?” She asks over the receiver.
“No.” Freckles shakes her head, barely glancing up from her magazine. “Not for a little while now.” She tilts her chin at the phone. “Is that Javi?”
“Yeah.” Vanessa nods while her own frown forms and she readjusts the phone on her shoulder. “She’s not here, Javi.”
“Goddamnit.” Javi hisses, shoving a hand through his hair. “If she shows up, call me!” He demands before he is slamming the phone down so he can call Steve. You’re missing and there’s the small issue of the fact that you are his fucking soulmate.
The phone line rings twice before it’s picked up, making the world feel like it’s moving in slow motion around him. “Murphy.” His partner drawls on the other end by way of greeting.
“I’ve got a problem.” Javi spits out.
“So do we all, Peña.” Steve chuckles on his end of the call. “Something new, I take it?”
“I don’t have time for your bullshit.” Javi hisses and says your name. “The journalist? The one that lives with me? She’s fucking missing.”
“Shit.” Steve sits up in his seat, alarmed at Javi’s tone. “How long?” An American tourist going missing in Bogotá is bad enough — but one living with a DEA agent? That shit would be like catnip to sicarios.
“She left last night to go interview someone, I don’t know if she ever made it there.” Javi admits, blowing out a sigh. “I tried to get her to take Trujillo but she wouldn’t.”
“Where was the interview?” Steve asks, pulling out a notebook to start taking notes.
“Fuck, I don’t know.” Javi should have asked Inez if she knew anything more, but he had been frazzled and not thinking. “I’m assuming her old neighborhood.”
“Shit.” More emphatic this time, Steve rubs His hand across his forehead and reaches to grab his jacket. This has officially become a situation. “Is there someone she would have told? Or does she keep notes somewhere in the apartment?”
“I don’t know.” Javi shakes his head. “She has a friend. Inez. She was supposed to meet her after and she had told me she was going to stay with her last night. Inez called me just a few minutes ago asking about her.” He rattles off the phone number. “Get her in to go over any fucking detail she can remember. I’m going to search her room.”
"Copy that." Steve hangs up without preamble and then immediately picks up his phone again. It's a whirl of activity as he drops his jacket, dials the number he wrote down – all the while wondering what it is about this woman that has his partner so knotted up as to actually sound scared on the phone.
Javi hangs up and immediately bolts down the hall to your bedroom. The panic he’s swallowing covers up any hesitation for imposing on your private space. He starts at the shelf closest to your door and starts searching methodically.
Things are fairly well organized in your room. The small closet is full of clothes with shoes lined up in a row on the floor and your suitcase stashed up on the top shelf. Two other, clearly empty bags are beside it and even though those bags are all empty, they're still the first things he goes through. The shoe box on the end of the shelf comes down with a clatter, revealing nothing more consequential than a collection of knick-knacks all tagged with the date and location of your purchase, and a name – small mementos of Colombia that are meant to be brought home with you later as gifts.
If he was trying to get a sense of you as a person, this would be a treasure trove of information. But none of this helps him find you. Not until he finds the matchbook for a small café. It’s one he swears that you’ve mentioned several times and there’s a good chance that you might have stopped by there or maybe even tried to set up your interview there as a neutral setting. It’s better than nothing and he shoves the matches in his pocket as he continues to search.
The small table at your bedside holds a leather notebook and a copy of Gabriel García Márquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude, stacked one on top of the other beside the photo of your family and a half-drunk glass of water. Even the bureau on the wall opposite your bed is tidy, with a tray of makeup and other beauty products laid out carefully beside your small jewelry box.
Surrounded by your belongings, those things most intimate to you, Javi starts to panic. The fear started to set in, as he reaches for the hairbrush that you have lying on the dresser. “Fuck.” He hisses, nearly picking it up and throwing it through the mirror, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He can’t do this right now. Not when you could be in danger and every minute that passes without knowing where you are, that possibility increases one hundred fold.
"Javier?" Elisa's voice comes from the hallway, nervous and quiet but still loud enough for him to hear. "What happened?"
Turning his head where he was staring at your make up, he sees Elisa hovering in the doorway. “I’ve got to go.” Javi decides, unable to stay here and wait. Not when you might be in trouble. “Stay here. Lock the fucking door.” He tells her and pushes away from the dresser to get the backup gun out for her. “Shoot anyone who doesn’t belong if they come through that door.”
"Be safe." She says after a moment's pause. Whatever is going on, it is clearly dire and he is upset, so she simply takes the gun and bolts the door behind him when he bolts out of it like a rocket.
He had his cell phone and he’s immediately calling Steve back, rushing to his vehicle. “I’ve got a possible lead.” He tells him. “Café near the nightclub.”
"Address?" Steve stands and grabs his jacket, ripped his note page off of the pad he had been scribbling on while talking to Inez. "The bartender didn't know a location but had the names of the men she was meeting with. Might be pseudonyms but it's a start."
“Goddamnit.” Javi slams the door of the jeep and slaps the steering wheel. “I don’t fucking like this!” He hisses. “She needs to be found right now!”
Steve smothers a groan, hightailing it through the halls of the embassy on his way out the door. "I know she's a missing civilian but I always thought this woman pissed you off to no end. You're acting like the sky is falling."
Javi doesn’t have an answer for him right now. Growling down the line. “Hurry the fuck up.” He snarls before he ends the call and peels away from the curb.
******
The cafe is just as decrepit as he feared it would be, and while the block is deserted that could either be a good thing or a very bad one. The only person in sight is the woman in all black wearing a half apron smoking a cigarette by the front door, but that's a start.
Javi walks up to the woman and pulls out a pack of cigarettes to take one out. She seems like she’s someone who’s seen plenty. “Busy day?” The fact that he’s as calm as he is remains a surprising miracle, but he’s hoping he might get some information out of her casually.
She snorts, exhaling smoke from her last drag and waving her hand dismissively. “Never.”
Javi hums, flicking open his lighter and bringing the flame to the end of the cigarette. “How about last night?” He asks after the first puff, slipping the zippo into his pocket and watching her carefully.
“Never.” She repeats, but mostly in a bored way. Most of the men who come through here on business aren’t nearly this handsome, and she’s bored to tears. She doesn’t mind having a chat. Just as long as he doesn’t ask too many questions.
Javi pulls the cigarette from his mouth and flicks the ashes away from her. “Friend of mine told me about this place.” He lies. “Said she was coming here last night.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.” She lies, just as easily. Though her lips flatten and she takes a longer drag from the cigarette to finish it faster. The only woman who came through last night was the one Esteban and Manuel came for.
“I’m sure she said this was the place.” He looks around the front again and then back at her. “American, curvy.”
The woman’s shoulders tense and her stomach revolts, and she quickly stubs out her cigarette. “No Americans.” She insists, as though she were stating a policy and not panicking. This man knows something.
She springs up from her perch on the stoop and Javi lunges forward, grabbing her arms and spinning her around to face the wall and yanking her arms behind her back. “Where is she?” He shouts.
“Who?!” The waitress cries out, shoulder pushed firm against the stone building. She’s been warned to keep her mouth shut enough times that she is going to play dumb with this Americano. The sicarios who own her apartment building have made it clear that her daughter’s life is at stake if she doesn’t. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Javi hisses, pulling back slightly and pushing her up against the building harder. He pins her with his weight and reaches for the cuffs tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. “The journalist! She was here!”
The sound of car tires screeching to a halt only adds to the chaotic atmosphere, and Steve Murphy is jumping out of his car practically before it has come to a complete stop. “What the fuck is going on?” He demands, seeing Javi about ready to drag this woman off to prison. “You find something out?”
Steve’s talking in English, and this woman doesn’t seem to understand him. “She’s lying. She knows something!” Javi tells Steve as he slams her against the wall again. “Tell me!” He roars in Spanish at her and spins her around to see the fury in his eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Steve hisses, pulling his partner back from the woman he has slammed against the wall. Javier’s managed to get the cuffs on her and she looks as confused and terrified as he does furious. “She told you she doesn’t know shit and you’re mad about it? Is that what’s going on here?”
“She’s fucking lying!” Javi growls as he pushes back, getting up in Steve’s face. Glaring at him before he turns back to the woman and switches back to Spanish. “I will kill you before the sicario’s can touch you.” He warns her. “She’s a DEA agent’s soulmate.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” The hammer of understanding lands swiftly on Steve’s brow, and he’s not proud of the extra two seconds it takes him to collect his jaw off the ground before he can step in to pry Peña’s hands off the woman. He knows the word for soulmate in Spanish. Connie had learned it and was starting to use it as a cute pet name. “I’m putting her in the fucking car and you’re going calm the fuck down!” He orders his partner, pointing one finger firmly in Javi’s direction as he shoves the suspect in the direction of his car.
Javi doesn’t want to let her go, but he doesn’t have much of a choice when Steve pushes him off again. Swiping his hand through his hair and blowing out a breath as he paces on the sidewalk.
In the time it takes Steve to wrestle the woman into the backseat of his car in her handcuffs and lock her in, Javi is prowling the sidewalk like a caged panther. “Your fucking soulmate?” Steve asks, the second he’s up on the pavement with his partner again. “That’s why you’ve lost your goddamn mind?”
“Don’t you even fucking lecture me.” Javi grabs Steve’s jacket and shakes him slightly. “You would tear Colombia apart if something happened to Connie.”
“Of course I would!” There is no doubt about that and Steve doesn’t even try to deny it for a moment. “But if you had told me who the fuck were we looking for we would have been out here straight a-fucking-way!”
Javi pauses, clarity breaking through his anger. He had never told Steve what you were - are - to him. That’s his fault. He lets go of him and frowns. “She needs to talk.” He tells him. “She was here, I know it.” He doesn’t know how he knows it, but it was the exactly type of place you would have set up an interview.
Steve searches his face, looking for signs of anything besides the obvious fear and concern, and when he comes up short he nods. “Okay.” He agrees, still standing between his partner and the car. “But after we interrogate her you’re telling me everything, got it? Otherwise I’m not gonna be any good to you on this search.”
“You won’t like it.” Javi promises, looking back at woman in the car. “I’m calling Carillo.”
“Let’s get the band back together.” Steve agrees. This just became about a hell of a lot more than a missing journalist.
______
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absurdthirst · 9 months ago
Text
The Peña Matchmaker {Javier Peña x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 17.1k
Warnings: Stranger sex, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, mentions of food play, oral sex (male and female receiving), riding, somnophilia, waking up to sexual activity, public sex, abusive boyfriends, one slap, threats, domestic violence, threats of sexual assault, police, protective Javi.
Comments: Meeting at Danny's wedding because of his tía, your boss, starts an exciting, causal sexual affair with Javier Peña. Leading you down a road of fun and adventure until he's called back to Colombia, leaving you alone and adrift.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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Javi didn’t really want to attend his cousin’s wedding but his pa had asked him to come and the old man didn't ask much of him. Javi doesn’t really like seeing his extended family, too many questions about his job and when he’s going to settle down. His reputation has thankfully stayed in Colombia but his prior misdemeanors i.e leaving Lorraine at the altar had earned him the title of the casanova of Laredo. Since coming home in disgrace, he’s been laying low at his pa’s ranch, helping out, but today, he’s going to deal with his family. Christ, Sicarios are less scary. The wedding is thankfully quick and soon everyone is in the reception hall next door, beers opened and catering done by his tía’s restaurant is put out for anyone to enjoy. He’s sipping his beer, looking around the hall, and that’s when he sees you.
****
“Stop fussing over the food and go and have a drink.” Diana shoos you away from the long table and you sigh. You’d helped her with the food for her son’s wedding and now she wants you to go relax. You know Danny and his bride, having gone to high school with them, and you were grateful when his mother, Diana, offered you a job at her restaurant after you graduated. You’ve been with her ever since, wanting to put your culinary degree to use. You follow her order and walk over to the bar, picking up a bottle of wine and you huff as you struggle to get the screw top open.
Javi notices the pretty woman struggling with the wine and he doesn’t know her. Stepping up to you and taking the bottle from your hand, he shoots you a charming grin. “Let me.” He offers and easily twists the cap off to hand it to you. “Those bottles are hard to get into when you need them the most.” He jokes. 
“Thanks.” You huff. “Although you don’t seem like the type to drink ‘white Zinfandel’.” You grin, imagining this handsome and rugged man holding a wine glass. Whiskey seems more his speed, although he has a bottle of Budweiser in his hand as he reaches around you to the bar. You introduce yourself and hope that he’s not married, you don’t see a ring on his finger.
Javi doesn't get a chance to introduce himself before his tía, Diana, is doing it for him. "Oh I was going to introduce you two." She says your name, "this is my nephew, Javier. He's just got back from Colombia and he's single." She winks and you cringe slightly. The older woman has been hinting about you meeting her nephew since his return, often reprimanding you for letting yourself get trapped in your work and not finding yourself a boyfriend. 
"It's great to meet you." You say and Diana practically beams. 
"Javi, she's single too." She fails at being discreet but Javi doesn't embarrass you by saying he doesn't date. Instead, he nods and Diana looks between you once more, "I'll leave you two to get to know each other." 
You groan softly, taking a gulp of your wine, "that wasn't awkward at all."
“Leave it to tía to cut through the bullshit and get right to the matchmaking.” Javi jokes, taking it easy on you. You are pretty, there’s no denying that and he would love to see how you moan, but he can tell that you are the relationship type. “Don’t worry about it.” He promises when you have drained half your wine. “It’s not worth the wine hangover.” 
You snort and shake your head. “I love her, but she is not subtle. I don’t blame you if you run away now.” 
“You should be the one running.” Javi chuckles, aware that his reputation is mud around here.
You lower the glass from your lips and turn to look at him, "your reputation doesn't scare me off but the way Lorraine is glaring at me from across the room makes me think that she isn't over you jilting her." You raise your eyebrows to Lorraine in a silent challenge when she looks your way again. 
Javi shifts from one foot to the other, "yeah well, she has her husband and 2.5 kids she always wanted. I chase after sicarios like I always wanted." He snorts and sips his beer, "reputation." 
He shakes his head and you smirk, "you can't live in Laredo without knowing about the great Javier Peña. With the way your tía talks about you, you'd think you'd come right from a GQ magazine." You nudge him playfully. 
"Do I live up to expectations?" He smirks, moving side to side with his arms out. 
You bite your lip, trailing your gaze along the length of him, liking what you see but you don't let him know that when you reply, "meh, you aren't bad on the eyes."
Javi’s eyes crinkle when he grins. Not a polite smile, but a real grin that is accompanied by the smallest chuckle. “Not bad, huh?” He rocks his jaw and slides his hands on his jeans. “I guess I can live with that.” He shrugs and glances up and down your body, letting his gaze turn slightly darker. “You’re not too bad yourself.” 
You flush a little, feeling your stomach twist at the way he's looking at you. "It's the new dress I bought for today." You murmur, glancing back across the room. 
“It's not the dress." Javi replies and you manage to stop the shiver of arousal from the slight rasp in his voice. Before you can reply, the DJ starts to play the music and you turn back to look at Javi. "Have you tried the food?" You ask and he nods, "it's delicious." You smile, "thanks. I did the catering. It's my thing...I'm the chef for your tía's place."
Javi hums, impressed with that. “I can cook chorizo and eggs and not burn toast.” He offers, smirking slightly and aware that it’s almost an invitation to breakfast. While he doesn’t date, he does fuck and he’s been known to make breakfast before sending the girl off the next morning if it’s an all nighter. “Did you make the cherry empanadas too?” He asks, humming when you nod. “They were good. Damn good. I ate three of them. Sweet and tangy, just the way I like it.” 
You smirk at his flirting, enjoying the banter and ease after being so stressed with work lately. "Glad to hear it." You hum and the song changes. "Oh, I love this song." You sigh and Javi holds his hand out after setting his beer down. 
"Wanna dance, hermosa?" He asks and you bite your lip, nodding as you set your drink down and let him lead you to the dance floor. There are other couples and the song is sensual but not too slow, letting Javi pull you close and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck.
It’s been a long time since Javi has had a woman in his arms and it’s not been leading up to tearing each other’s clothes off, but he remembers how to dance. Swaying with you gently to the music, he watches your eyes soften as you glance over at where the bride and groom are sharing their own dance. “It’s hard to believe that Danny’s married.” He shakes his head. “He was a kid when I left Laredo.” He tells you. “Now he’s a Marine, and a husband.”
“It’s hard to believe Danny’s married.” You echo, “he was a freshman when I graduated, you know.” You say and Javi’s fingers twitch against your hips. 
“I - I didn’t know.” He admits and you chuckle, leaning in close, “such a dirty old man.” You tease and he snorts, “dirty, huh? You haven’t seen it yet, hermosa.” 
You smirk and push yourself a little closer to him as he sways you. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind seeing it.” You murmur, tilting back to look into those dark brown eyes.
“Yeah?” He smirks and glances around the room at the family and friends. “Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Or do you want to be really dirty and stay?” He can’t deny that he wants to see what is under that dress and slide inside you. 
You like how forward he is. There’s no false promises or messing around with sweet words. He’s direct and that turns you on. You lean closer, brushing your lips against his ear. “Go get a beer and meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.” You murmur as the song ends. You kiss under his ear and pull back, making your way across the dance floor and towards the bathrooms in the back of the hall, hidden by the corridor between the hall and the church.
Exhaling roughly, Javi turns and makes his way towards the bar so he can grab that beer. It would be the fastest beer he’s ever drank. “You have that look about you, mijo.” Chucho walks up and slaps Javi on the back. 
Grunting, he twists the top off the beer. “Don’t know what you mean.” He offers, mentally timing how long it’s been since you’ve walked off in his head. “Just havin’ a beer.”
Chucho doesn’t believe him, just smirks and shakes his head before he murmurs, “just be safe.” He walks off towards his sister in law who grins and pats him on the shoulder when he approaches her. You look into the mirror, checking your appearance and adjusting your hair as you wait for Javi. When the door opens and he enters, you turn to face him, listening to the lock click and you wait for him to make the next move.
Watching you for a moment, Javi rushes forward and pulls you against him, fusing his lips to yours hungrily. It’s been a long time since he’s gotten laid. Nearly a week before he left Colombia and for a man who used sex to work out his frustrations, that was a long time. His tongue pushes inside your mouth as soon as your lips part, demanding control and he pushes you up against the sink. 
You moan into his mouth, gripping his shirt, and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass and you whimper. His cock is hard and pressing into your hip as his fingers slide up to grip the zipper of your dress. He slides it down enough to pull it off of your arms, exposing your bra and you unbutton his plaid shirt, caressing the skin of his chest.
Javi kisses down your jaw, nipping your skin lightly as he works the clasp of your bra. He should be going into your panties, but he wants to suck on your tits and as soon as the straps of your bra are sliding down he ducks his head to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.
“Fuck.” You moan softly, tilting your head back as he sucks and bites down on your nipple. Your fingers fumble to unbuckle his belt and after you finally manage to get it open, you unbutton his pants and reach in to squeeze his cock. “Oh God.” You moan at the girth of him, hot and heavy in your hand.
He groans against your breast, enjoying the way you explore his cock and touch him. Twitching when you reach down farther to cup his balls and feel how heavy they are. Switching to the other breast, his hand slides beneath your dress and pushes your panties to the side so he can discover how wet you are. Grunting when he finds you slick from anticipation, he rubs your clit before pushing two fingers inside you. 
“Fuck, Javi, baby.” You gasp when his thick fingers stretch you out and your grip on his cock tightens. Your hips rock into his touch as much as you can with him pressing you against the sink and your free hand tangles in his dark locks. “Jav. I need - want you to fuck me.” You plead, needing to feel him inside of you. It’s been too long since you’ve had sex and you want to feel him, all of him. “I- safe - I am on birth control.” You promise and whimper when his fingers curl just right inside of you.
“Fuck.” He hisses, enjoying the idea of sliding into you bare. He prefers it that way. Pulling his fingers out of your wet heat, he spins you around and pulls your dress up so he can drag your panties down your thighs. Feet kicked apart, he is pressing close within seconds. Lining up and starting to sink into you with a sharp snap of his hips. 
Your mouth falls open, eyes closed as he pushes deep and stretches you out. “Holy shit.” You gasp and he reaches up to grab your jaw, “eyes on me, hermosa.” He orders and you struggle but manage to open your eyes so you can look at him. 
“Javi, you feel - fuck.” You moan softly when he starts to move inside of you. Your hips are pressed against the sink, digging in, but you don’t care, too enthralled by the feel of him and the way he’s looking at you in the mirror like you’re the only woman in the world.
Aware that this is a bathroom romp, Javi can’t tear his eyes away from you. From fling to paid worker, he always enjoyed the connection with his partner while he is fucking their brains out. “Hermosa.” He groans, fingers digging into your hips as your cunt hugs him like a fucking glove. He works himself to a quick rhythm, hips slapping against your ass harshly and grunting at how good it feels to bury himself inside you again and again. “So tight.” He hisses. 
You love hearing his grunts and hisses, his eyes burning into yours as he thrusts into you over and over again. “I love it. I love how you feel inside of me. Keep going. I love it.” You moan, reaching back to grip his hand, bringing it to your breast to squeeze it.
Javi groans, squeezing your tit harshly and pinching your nipple just to feel you clench down around him. He’s needed this, needed a good fuck to make all his worries fall away. You are gorgeous and take him so well. “Fuck, you are perfect.” He hisses, wrapping his arm around your stomach and pulling you back against him so he can kiss and bite along your shoulder.
“Oh God.” You tilt your head back to close your eyes but he reminds you to keep watching him in the mirror. You nod, tilting your head to meet his dark gaze once more and you whimper when he kisses along your neck, rasping in your ear, “such a good girl, hermosa.” 
You are close, one hand gripping his forearm and the other snakes down to rub your clit, knowing you need more to cum around him. “Shit. I’m gonna cum baby.” You warn him breathlessly, continuing to rub the bundle of nerves.
Javi watches you rub your clit for a moment before he’s slapping your hand away and replacing your fingers with his own. Wanting to be the reason you cum. Wanting to control your pleasure. He had made sure the girls he paid for sex had a good time, he definitely wanted you to. “Cum for me, hermosa.” He growls in your ear. “Wanna feel it, soak my cock.”
His fingers feel so much better than your own and you let him work you up until you’re falling apart for him. “Oh fuck!” You squeal, clamping down on his cock and your nails dig into his forearm as he keeps you upright so he can keep fucking you through your orgasm.
“Fuck.” The sounds of him fucking you get wetter, sloppier as he keeps ramming his hips forward. Rocking up onto his toes as he tries to push deeper inside your cunt while you gush around him. “So fucking good, hermosa. Tight little cunt ‘s gonna milk me dry.” He hisses.
“Cum for me. Cum for me, Javi.” You beg, wanting to watch him fall apart inside of you. He grits his teeth, grunts escaping his lips and you clench around him, trying to egg him on until a few thrusts later, he’s pushing deep inside of you and he hisses as he paints your walls. “Yesss.” You moan, loving the way his jaw drops as he cums inside of you.
He pants, his entire body relaxing as he pumps you full of his cum. Groaning your name and turning his head to kiss your jaw and then your lips as he rides out his high. “Fuck that was good.” He groans. “I need a cigarette after that.” He chuckles, knowing he’s going to chew some Nicorette instead of having the smoke he’s craving.
You smile lazily, relishing the feel of him inside and around you until he’s pulling out and you reach to grab the paper towels to clean yourself up. “That was good. I guess we better get back out there before we are missed.” You toss the dirty paper towels into the trash and turn to face Javi once you are situated. You grab the front of his shirt to pull him close, pressing your lips to his. “I had a damn good time, Peña.” You murmur, caressing his chest.
He hums and smirks at you. “I did too.” He promises, although he doesn’t ask for your number or a date. He kisses you again and pats you on the ass as he spins you towards the door. “Go on out so we are too suspicious.” He tells you quietly.
You falter a little, thinking he’d at least ask you out for a drink but you don’t push. You know his reputation so you nod, walking away and back into the party, grabbing another glass of wine. You watch Javi walk in a couple of minutes later, walking over to his dad to lean in and whisper in his ear. His eyes meet yours across the room and he winks at you, turning to walk out of the hall. You frown, watching him go and as soon as he’s gone, you down the glass of wine you’re drinking. Javier Peña is a ladies man and you didn’t expect to change that but he got what he wanted and left. It doesn’t sit right with you but there’s nothing you can do except enjoy the rest of the wine.
****
Javi hadn’t meant to hold up at the ranch for a solid two weeks, but fence after fence made it practically impossible to break away and when he was finally done working, he was too exhausted to clean up and go into town. Now, he finally has a day where nothing is planned and he’s decided to go to his tía’s restaurant to get a meal that wasn’t burned or raw. His late mother had definitely been the cook in the family. Dressed in clean jeans and a work shirt, he looks like most of the other farmers or ranchers as he walks in the door, chewing on his gum and wondering if you are working. 
Tuesday nights are always quiet. You are grateful for it after a busy weekend cooking and you are sitting at the bar, having a drink during your break when he walks in. You haven’t heard from Javier Peña since the moment he walked out of Danny’s wedding reception and it hurts a little. You wonder if he’s been ignoring you on purpose. He knows where you work and he could’ve asked Diana for your number. You wonder if he enjoyed having sex with you or if he regrets it. You turn to look over at him as he walks in and you see Sarah, the hostess greet him with a flirty “hi, how can I help you?”
“Table.” Javi keeps it simple as he looks around the restaurant and his brows shoot up when he sees you sitting at the bar. “With her.” He points to you. “Unless she’s off.”
Sarah looks over at you and she comes over with the menu, “he said he wants to sit with you.” You nod, gesturing to the table nearest to you, “sit him here.” She nods and goes back over to escort Javi to the table. You stand up to greet him, “didn’t expect to see you in here?” You say, pulling out the chair and you sit down with your drink while Sarah sets the menu down on the table for him.
Javi walks up and shoots you a small grin, a little self conscious as he scrubs his hands on his jeans. He knows you probably think he’s a dick for fucking you and dipping without another word. “Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Just don’t- uh, poison my food?” He jokes. “I fully expect you to spit in it.”
You smirk, “oh don’t worry, Peña, I’ll take care of you.” You tease, knowing you can’t really be mad when you knew who he was before you fucked him in the bathroom. “You want something to drink?” You ask and he nods, taking a seat. 
“Beer.” He says and you ask Sarah to get him a beer. 
“Take a look at the menu. Tell me what you want.” You tell him, knowing your break will be over shortly anyway.
“Take your time.” Javi insists, shaking his head. He takes the menu and hums as he gazes at it. “What would you recommend?” He asks. “Since you aren’t cooking?” He remembers you said that you cook here, but you’re obviously serving tonight. “Because I know you have things that only you do well.”
“We are always quiet on a Tuesday so I let my sous chef take over and I come out to be the manager so our manager and Diana get a day off. I take Monday and Wednesday off.” You explain, “mmm I’d suggest the ribeye with the baked potato and the rancher salad.” You suggest, knowing your sous chef can cook a mean steak.
“Then when you are done with your break, that’s what I’ll have.” He doesn’t want you to cut your break short, knowing that sometimes that’s the only time you have to decompress. You nod and he looks around. “It’s a nice place, I’ve never been here before.” He admits. “My tía didn’t have it when I left for the academy.”
“She’s worked hard to build this place up. I’ve been here since the beginning. She hired me straight out of culinary school and gave me a chance. I owe everything to her. She’s a great woman. Someone I aspire to be one day. A business owner.” You smile fondly, glancing around at the restaurant that’s changed over the years.
“Then it will happen for you.” Javi predicts. The food at the wedding had been amazing and he was impressed with your outlook. “Maybe you can buy her out when she’s ready to retire or do one of those food truck things.” He suggests. “They are getting big in D.C.”
You smile, liking the way he thinks, “maybe one day. My own place or this one but someday.” You nod, “by the way…I dont - I don’t usually do that kind of thing.” You bite your lip, voice lowered and Javi chuckles, leaning closer. 
“I, uh, I do.” He admits and you already knew that. 
You shake your head, smiling when you say, “I know. Pretty sure the whole town knows.”
He had figured the story about his conquests had gotten around. Laredo was a small town in a lot of ways and Lorraine’s family liked to bring it up according to his pop. “I don’t really do relationships because of my job.” He explains. “It’s hard to do, my former partner damn near got a divorce in Colombia.”
You can understand why he didn’t want attachments. Moving around, a life or death contingency within his job. He wouldn’t want to leave someone behind. “I can understand that. It’s hard for me too. I work a lot. And at night. Most men don’t want a girlfriend who works as much as I do.” You confess and Javi nods in understanding.
Your break is over and you stand regretfully to move over to write his dinner ticket. Javi finishes his beer and before you disappear back into the kitchen, he holds it up. “Can I have another, hermosa?”
You nod, handing the ticket to your sous chef before you go get Javi another beer. “So are you getting reassigned yet?” You ask, “or are you back home for good?” You are curious if he’s ready to settle at his childhood home or if he’s itching to escape suburbia again.
Javi sighs and his fingers itch for a cigarette to hold between them, fiddling with the coaster. “I don’t know.” He admits. “No one knows, but I’m on administrative leave.” Your eyes widen and he blows out another sigh and shrugs. “I got involved with the wrong people trying to catch Escobar. I’m on ice until they decide to can my ass or send me to Siberia.”
“Shit. I'm sorry. That’s - hopefully they bring you back. From what I’ve heard, you’re good at what you do so it’s their loss if you are let go.” You reach out to squeeze his shoulder until Sarah calls you over to help with the register. Javi’s food is brought over to his table and you let him take a few bites before you check in and ask how his food is.
“This is a fucking good steak.” Javi groans, spearing another piece of steak and shoving it into his mouth. Since he’s stopped smoking, his appetite has gotten a little better, or maybe it’s because he’s not drinking quite as much. “Fuck, what do you do to it?”
You smirk, loving that he is enjoying his meal. “It’s all in the seasoning and the sear.” You wink and he cuts into the steak again. “If you like the steak, you wait until you have dessert.” You flirt and walk off when a customer calls you over, swaying your hips a little more than usual as you walk away from Javi.
His eyes follow you, fixed on your ass as he chews his steak. Remembering how you sounded while he was fucking you in that bathroom. Wondering if he could talk you into a repeat performance. Maybe not at your job, that would be stupid to put you at risk. He only tears his eyes away to fork up a bite of his baked potato and take a drink of his beer as he watches you interact with your customer.
You swing back by and are happy that he’s halfway done with his food. Obviously enjoying it. “You decide on dessert?” You ask. 
Javi smirks at you, leaning forward and licks his lips. “Why don’t you decide for me, hermosa?” He asks. “Something….sweet.” 
You nod, biting your lip at the dark look in his eyes. Your fingers brush his as you take the menu from his hand. “I’ll get you something sweet.” You promise and make your way into the kitchen. You come back later with the chocolate soufflé that was your signature back in culinary school. “Here you go.” You set it down in front of him, eager to see what he thinks of it.
He lifts a brow and looks down at the delicious looking dessert and then back up at you. “Is there an option to eat this off you?” He asks with a wink before he picks up his spoon. “Think it might taste better.”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “No. Unfortunately not, but I do have a can of whipped cream and some chocolate sauce back at my place if you’re interested?” You smirk, wondering if he will take you up on your offer or if it was a one time thing at the church.
Javi hums and rubs his chin. “What time do you get off, hermosa?” He asks, wondering if you are being serious or just joking around. “Because I’m willing to stay.”
You step a little closer, “I gotta cash out but the kitchen closes in ten and I can leave Sarah and the others to lock up. Think you can wait ten minutes for me?” You ask him, wondering if he will or if he will go home.
He chuckles and nods. “I think it’ll take me ten minutes to eat this.” He jokes, already digging into the soufflé and groaning at the taste.
You nod, “take your time. I’ll go start cashing out.” You rub his shoulder as you walk away and make your way over to the register. Usually you’d stay until everyone is finished with their work but the temptation of Javi has you rushing out of the door for once. You finish cashing out and walk back over to Javi as he sets his fork down. He pays for his meal and you add it to the tally before you grab your things. “You ready to go?” You ask, unsure if he’s changed his mind.
“Do you want me to follow you?” He asks, pulling his keys from his pocket as he guides you towards the door. Even if you change your mind, he’s going to walk you to your car. “I know it’s Laredo, but it could still be dangerous.” He explains when he strides past his truck with you towards the far end of the parking lot where the workers park.
You like that he wants to guide you to your car and when you stand by it, you move closer to him, tilting your head to kiss his jaw. “You wanna come home with me?” You ask, reaching up to play with the button on his shirt.
“More than anything.” He groans, looking down at your lips. “I can’t promise you anything beyond tonight.” He cautions. “But I guarantee you won’t regret me in your bed. Stretching you out and tasting your cunt before I fuck you this time.”
You whimper at his words, knowing he’s capable of making you feel incredible. You nod, “I don’t want dinner and a movie, Javi. I want you to fuck me hard and make me cum.” You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans. “Follow me.” You order and unlock your car, “I am about ten minutes away.”
He waits until you are in your car before he hustles back to his truck and quickly jumps in. Eager to follow you out of the parking lot and to your house, he throws the gears into drive and pulls out behind you when you leave the gravel parking lot.
When you pull up outside of your home, you move fast to unlock your front door and flick on the lights and Javi isn’t too far behind you, his hands finding your waist just as you set your purse down. You spin in his arms, surging forward to press your lips to his as he kicks the door shut behind him.
Javi groans into your mouth, pulls you close as he crowds you. Licking eagerly before pulling away. “Where’s your bedroom, hermosa?” He demands, pulling your shirt out of your pants, and sliding his hands up your back to start undoing your bra. “I really want to see it.”
You love how eager he is, walking backwards towards your bedroom. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, letting him push you into your bedroom when you fumble behind you to open the door. “Here it is.” You announce as you push his shirt off of his shoulders.
“Good.” He huffs as he tosses the shift down on the floor, and starts to pull yours off. “Don’t think I could last much longer.” He admits. “Thought about putting you up on your bar.”
“I would’ve loved that.” You tell him with utmost honesty. “I wouldn’t have complained.” You confess breathlessly as he works on pulling your bra down your arms after your shirt joins his on the floor. “Wanted to touch you earlier but I want you to fuck me on my bed.”
“In a bed is better.” He can admit that, even as much as he enjoyed that bathroom. “Especially if it has you naked in it.” He palms your tits and groans, looking down as he does. “You like these being sucked on, hermosa?”
You moan, nodding as he squeezes your tits. “Yesss.” You hiss when he pinches your nipples and you reach down to unbutton his pants. “Need you inside of me again. Thought about it every damn day since the wedding.” You confess, reaching in to squeeze his cock. “Thought about sucking your cock too.”
“Shit. Yeah?” He hisses and twitches in your hand. “I wouldn’t mind you doing that.” He admits. “But later. Right now I want to see how you taste.” Javi flashes you a smirk. “See if you are better than that dessert.”
“That dessert is my signature so I doubt it, Peña.” You smirk and release his cock when he unbuttons your pants and pushes them down. You kick off your shoes and move your pants aside as he guides you back to lay down on the bed in your underwear. “Don’t forget the socks.” You tease, wiggling your toes once you’re laying down and Javi’s fingers slide along your calf until he’s pulling your sock off.
Javi chuckles and lifts a foot and playfully bites your ankle as he shuffles onto the bed. “You look pretty on that bed.” He hums, his fingers running up and down your thigh and around your knee.
You know he’s flattering you but you accept it, hoping he thinks you are pretty especially when he’s had his choice of so many women. “You’re not too bad yourself, Peña.” You coo, looking up at him as he hooks his fingers in your panties after tossing your other sock over his shoulder. You lift your hips so he can pull your underwear down and once that’s tossed too, you spread your legs for him.
“Shit.” He hisses, admiring the neat, trimmed hair over your cunt. “That’s a pretty sight.” He slaps your thigh and starts to lean in, kissing and nipping down your legs as he settles between your thighs with his jeans still on. It will be the only way he doesn’t cum before he wants to.
You shift onto your elbows so you can watch him as he shuffles closer. He presses kisses to your thighs, his dark eyes focused on you and you inhale sharply when his hot breath fans over your wet cunt. “Please.” You breathe out and your mouth falls open in a silent cry when his tongue finally slides through your folds.
Javi groans, enjoying the heady, tangy taste of your cunt and his fingers hold tight to your hips as he flicks his tongue over your clit. He wants to make you cry out in pleasure, soak his face and cum for him. He groans again and keeps his dark eyes on you as he traces a path down to your entrance to circle it with his tongue and pushes inside.
God, his tongue is way too skilled to be real. Those eyes focused on you make you shiver and you shift onto one elbow, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. “Fuck baby.” You sigh when his nose presses against your clit while his tongue pushes deep.
He hums and smirks as he curls his tongue up into you. He knows you are enjoying yourself and the way you start to tug on his hair and grind yourself into his face. He squeezes your hip to encourage it.
You whimper, loving how he is letting you use his face to get off. He’s enthusiastic and you wonder if he’s like this with every woman he’s with. Even the ones he’s paid for. “Shit, Jav. So good. So damn good.” You pant, pulling on his hair again until you are collapsing back on the bed.
You nod, reaching down to drag him on top of you so you can kiss him. His tongue immediately slides into your mouth and you push on his chest, wanting him to move onto his back. He follows your unspoken order and shifts to lay down. You kiss him again, along his jaw and down his neck. Licking into his clavicle until you reach his nipples and you flick your tongue over each one, kissing down his stomach until you are settled between his legs. You reach into his jeans to pull his cock out, wrapping your fingers around him and you take a moment to admire his girth. “Fuck baby.” You murmur, meeting his gaze as you lean forward to wrap your lips around the tip.
“Shit.” He hisses, watching with lust filled eyes as your mouth stretches around his cock. Loving how eager you are. “Fuck, hermosa, that’s it. You like this don’t you? Like sucking my cock and seeing how hard I am for you?” He asks, grinning when you hum around him and take him deeper into your mouth.
You really do love it. Knowing that he’s in your bed out of all the women in Laredo has you wanting to show off so you take him deeper, choking slightly as you stretch your jaw until your nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock.
“F-fuck.” He grunts, reaching down and cupping your cheek. “You’re so pretty like this. Sucking my cock. Gonna fuck you, but one day I’ll come down your throat.” He knows that he will come back here if you let him. He would be here as often as he can.
You moan around him, letting him know you’d love that as he pulls you off of his cock, making you whine in protest. “Baby.” You huff but he’s grabbing your shoulders, “want you to ride me.” He grunts and you don’t argue with him, straddling him as he works on kicking off his shoes and his jeans. You reach back to help him before you lift up to grip his cock, positioning him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto him.
Javi groans your name as you take him. His hands on your hip, he watches in awe of how good you look while you are stretching your cunt out on his cock. He has always loved a woman on top and he surges up to press his lips to yours.
You moan into his mouth, adjusting to his thick length inside of you for a moment before you brace your hands on your headboard to start moving. Your tits swaying as you grind back onto him, your moans absorbed into his mouth.
Javi grunts, groaning as you start to ride him, the slow roll of your hips starting to speed up until you are bouncing on his dick like you are trying to win a rodeo. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses and thrusts up into you. 
You shift back, letting go of the headboard so you can ride him fast and hard, slamming down onto his cock as you seek your orgasm. He groans your name and you squeeze your tits, throwing your head back as you moan his name. "So good baby. So fucking good." You pant, getting closer to your orgasm.
Javi chases your hand away from your breast, replacing it with his own and moaning as you clench down around him. “Fuck.” He pants, squeezing your tit and then leaning forward to bite your nipple. Your gasp thrills him and he suckles to soothe the pain.
You whimper at the way he switches over to your other breast, sucking and biting and you can’t take it anymore. “Oh oh oh!” You moan, your eyes closing as you cum, thighs clenching against his sides as you grip him inside of your cunt, soaking him with your juices. “Yesss.” You hiss, riding out your high.
Javi watches you, groaning at how you soak him and squeeze him inside your throbbing little cunt. Gritting his teeth, he rocks his hips up to chase his own orgasm. “Fuck, fuck you’re so tight.”
His fingers dig into your hips as he fucks up into you, seeking his own orgasm, and you kiss along his jaw. “Cum for me baby. Fill me up.” You beg, “wanna feel it.” You bite down on his jaw, clenching around his cock to egg him on.
It doesn’t take too much longer, half a dozen thrust before he is panting out your name. Thrusting deep and burying his cock in your tight walls as he paints them with hot spurts of his cum.
You whimper, loving how it feels, and you let him rock into you until he stops. You tilt your head so you can kiss him, loving how he feels and sounds, and you know you want to do this again. “So good baby.” You murmur, caressing his cheek.
“Really good.” Javi grunts as he kisses you back two, three times before he starts to pull out of you gently. Rolling onto his back, he opens his arm to let you curl against him if you want to. “Good way to relax after work, right?”
You nod, “the best way.” You curl into his side, caressing his chest as you both are silent, just relaxing and enjoying the aftermath. “I want to keep doing this. I know you don’t - I don’t expect flowers or dinners but I want you in my bed.” You lay out your expectations, knowing he can’t give you more than this.
“I don’t mind dinner.” Javi frowns slightly. “I just- I don’t know what I’m doing.” He admits. “I can’t promise you anything more than a good time and respect.” He looks at you and knows that he would like to spend more time with you. “And I’ll let you know if I want to move on. I have respect for you. I won’t sleep with anyone else while I’m in your bed.”
You appreciate his honesty, knowing that most men would have fed you some lines to keep their place in your bed. You shift to sit up on your elbow, looking down at him, “then let's just enjoy what we have without expectations. Dinners, drinks…whatever we wanna do and when it becomes boring or we don’t want to do it, we tell the other. Deal?” You ask, knowing you want to be on the same page to protect your heart.
“That sounds good to me, hermosa.” Javi reaches up and cups your cheek, leaning forward to kiss you softly. “Although I don’t see myself getting bored with you.” He admits with a smirk. “You might get tired of me. You don’t work tomorrow, right?”
You shake your head, “day off. Sous chef takes over. You wanna do something?” You ask, shifting to curl around him again now that you know he’s not gonna run out of the door.
“I’ve got to do a little work in the morning  with my pop, but it shouldn't be more than a couple of hours.” He hums. “Could be back before you wake up. What do you want to do?”
“You wanna go to the movies? Jurassic Park sounds good.” You reach up to play with his hair. 
“Sure, baby.” Javi says and you nod, “I’ll check the paper for the times in the morning.” You tell him and kiss his chest. “Maybe if you get back before I wake up, you can wake me up properly?” You tease softly, getting sleepy after he has made you cum.
He snorts and smirks as you start to soften against him. “If you’re lucky.” He teases back and strokes your bare back softly. “Go to sleep, hermosa.” He breathes out. “I’ll leave early, but I’ll be back.”
****
You smile when Javi carries the popcorn and soda into the movie theater for you. He paid for the tickets and you feel like this is a proper date. Still giddy from waking up to his tongue between your folds, you find a seat in the back row and grab a handful of popcorn when you are settled.
Javi smirks as you shove the popcorn in your mouth as he takes a sip of the soda. It’s been a long time since he’s had soda, but he enjoys the bubbles. “So what is this movie about again?” He whispers as the lights go down and the previews start. “I don’t remember.”
“Dinosaurs.” You whisper, leaning in to take a sip of the soda. The previews seem to take forever and you enjoy the way Javi leans into you. It’s the middle of the day so there’s only a few other people in the theater. Your hand finds his thigh and you squeeze it, settling back to watch the movie.
Javi leans back and throws his arm around you as the open scenes start. Relaxed and enjoying himself, he jumps slightly when the creature pulls the worker into the enclosure. “Shit.” He hisses. “Rather chase drug dealers.”
You chuckle, “afraid of the dinos, baby?” You tease and he scoffs but his lack of reply makes you chuckle. You finish the popcorn and soda and enjoy the movie but his hand on your shoulder is rubbing your skin and you can smell his cologne. “Javi.” You whisper, kissing his jaw.
“Hmmm?” He’s engrossed in the movie but he looks over at you in confusion. “You need to go to the bathroom?” He asks quietly, sure that you want him to grab more popcorn or drink while you are doing that.
“No.” You murmur, sliding your hand up higher until you are squeezing his cock through his jeans. You want him, even with the less than romantic movie playing. He makes you feel like a teenager and you want him in any way you can have him. “Need you.” You murmur, kissing his neck.
“Here?” Javi glances around the theater and has to admit that there aren’t many people here. “Less private than the bathroom.” He chuckles as his other hand slides up your sundress. “You want to sit on my cock while you watch the dinosaurs?” He asks. 
His words send a bolt to your cunt, knowing you could get caught and his fingers slide higher along your thigh. "Yes. Yes baby." You whimper, working on unbuttoning his pants and you pull his hard cock out. Smirking when you realize how much you affect him, and you shift to sit in his lap. He pulls your panties aside and you sink down onto him, biting your lip to smother your moan. You lean back against his chest, enjoying the feel of him inside of you for a moment.
Javi groans quietly, trying to keep from bringing attention to you. “Fuck.” He reaches around you and presses his fingers to your clit and starts to rub it while you clench around his length. The movie plays, keeping him distracted enough that he doesn’t try to rock his hips up. Just letting you sit on him and pulse around him while you grind down subtly.
You grind as much as you can without drawing attention to yourselves. His hands on your thighs and you place your hands over them, working yourself on his cock. He groans into your ear, soft and just the right noise to make you clench around him.
He huffs happily as you work yourself closer to orgasm. “Such a dirty girl.” He groans. “Never gonna be able to watch a movie without thinking about you on my cock.” He promises.
You bring his hand back to your clit, biting your lip to smother your moan as he twitches inside of you and your walls flutter around him. “Fuckkk.” You exhale breathlessly as you clamp down on his cock.
It’s hard to let you ride out an orgasm without moaning and rocking up into you faster but he doesn’t want to give you away. “That’s it.” He hums.
You want him to cum too so you shift off of his cock, grateful that there’s no one in the row with you as you kneel down on the sticky floor and take him into your mouth. It’s dirty but you love it, wanting to please him and make him cum.
“Shit.” He hisses, unable to believe you are sucking his cock on a theater floor. Cupping your cheek, his dark eyes watch your cheeks hollow around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, hermosa.” He warns you, aware of some women’s disgust with swallowing.
You don’t pull off, you close your eyes as you swallow around his cock, eagerly taking every drop he gives you. You swallow and listen to his harsh breaths as he struggles to keep quiet while you swallow his load.
His eyes flutter and he struggles to keep them open to watch you swallow his cum. The roar of the dinosaur in the movie is how he feels right about now and he caresses your cheek until you are ready to pull off of him with a small pop.
You shift to sit back down while he tucks himself away. You lean in to kiss his jaw and he turns his head to press his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You cup his cheek and enjoy the kiss, loving that he doesn’t care about the lingering taste of his cum in your mouth.
Javi kisses you until you finally pull away, a pleased little smirk on your lips. Wrapping his arm around you, he’s pulling you close and chuckling as he presses his lips to your hairline. “You’re gonna be trouble, I can feel it.” He teases.
You chuckle, “and you love it.” You counter and he nods, “I do.” You smile, leaning into him again and you finish watching the movie. After you head back out into the hot Texas air, Javi guides you to his truck and you pull him close to kiss him again. “Never gonna forget that movie.” You tease, “best movie I’ve ever seen.”
“Yep, loved the - the…” he tries to think of the word and fails. “The music.” He finally decides. “Very dramatic music.” He laughs when you give him a knowing look and moves over to the door to open it for you to climb into the cab of his truck. “It was. I’ll never listen to that score without thinking about our watching this movie.”
You grin as he drives back to your place, watching him as he maneuvers the roads of Laredo. He’s so handsome, it makes your stomach twist and you hope this turns into something more than just friends with benefits. He has his meeting in D.C in a couple of weeks and you wonder what’s gonna happen next. A part of you hopes he stays so you can see what you could become, but a larger part of you knows he will be leaving soon so you will enjoy every moment you can have with him.
**** 
Javi looks over at you, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the sounds of the song playing on the radio. “What?” He demands, rolling his eyes at you even though his grin is playful. He had picked you up from work, like he had every evening you worked for the past two weeks. He’s also been carrying you into work the next morning.
You smile, shifting closer to him, “can’t I admire you, Peña?” You ask, leaning in to kiss his neck as he drives to your place. “Doesn’t your pa wonder why you are never home nowadays?” You ask, knowing Chucho has to be aware and has been gossiping with Diana who asked you how it’s going with Javi…all while sporting a shit eating grin on her face.
“He’s just happy I’m not bothering him.” Javi snorts, having endured Chucho’s smirks every day when he had left the ranch. The man loved to give him hell, so his lecture was from a place of love.
You giggle, “now you’re bothering me.” You joke and Javi rolls his eyes again. 
“You love me bothering you.” He counters and you smirk, “and you love bothering me.” You retort and he clicks his tongue, “well…” He trails off, “sometimes.” He teases and you go to slap his side but he grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to the back and you melt. 
“When are you leaving for D.C?” You ask, a little breathless and he keeps your hand in his.
“Next week.” He squeezes your hand a little harder and sighs. “I’m not confident they will let me stay.” He admits quietly. “The story was big and she named names.” It had been a slap in the face, but what do you expect when you make deals with the devil. Or in his case, a drug dealer. “I’ll see what they say, but I’m not apologizing for doing my job.”
“Well they’d be stupid to not want to take you back.” You tell him, “and whatever happens, I’m here for you.” You promise, knowing that you aren’t certain of your future together but you’ll be there for him no matter what.
****
“Fuck, baby.” You moan when Javier pushes inside of you. It’s early, before dawn, and Javier has to leave soon to catch his flight to D.C but you woke up in the middle of the night with a need for him. He’s hovering over you, the light from the hall casting a glow over him so you can barely see his eyes but you love how it feels like you’re the only two people that exist. In the quiet of the morning, you aren’t disturbed by anything.
“Gonna miss you, miss this.” He had already packed and said goodbye to his pop before spending the night at your house. His lips hover over yours and he kisses you again and again as he rocks into you. “Shit, you feel so good.”
You caress his back, wrapping your legs around him to pull him even closer. “Gonna miss you. So damn much.” You sigh, tilting your head back so he can kiss along your neck. It’s intoxicating and you know you’re gonna ache when he’s gone, like a part of you is missing.
He wants to suggest that you come with him, but he can’t do that to you. You have a busy week at the restaurant and that wasn’t the deal when you started this. It’s supposed to be casual. “Gonna miss my tongue.” He chuckles, pressing that particular muscle to your pulse and lapping at your skin. “And the way I like to wake you up.”
You giggle breathlessly, "your tongue, your cock, your fingers, your voice. I'm gonna miss everything about you, baby." You assure him, "gonna miss you in my bed." You promise and slide your hands down his back to squeeze his ass, pushing him impossibly deeper inside of you.
“Fuck, hermosa.” He grunts, pressing his lips to yours again. Every thrust is slow and deep, making sure to draw out what will be the last time together before he flys out. Unsure of what the future holds, he wants to make this memorable and his teeth find your bottom lip to bite gently.
You whimper into his mouth, getting closer to your orgasm with every rock of his hips but you don’t want this to end. This could be the last time if he doesn’t come back to Laredo and you know you’ll miss him terribly. You’ve spent nearly every day together since that night he came into the restaurant. “Javi. Oh Javi.” You moan, shifting your hips so he is grinding against your clit. “Gonna - so close, baby.” You confess breathlessly.
“That’s it, baby.” He groans, feeling you get closer. Every panted moan just makes his chest swell in pride as you start to shake underneath him. “Cum for me. Want you to soak me.” He kisses along your jaw and moans in your ear. “Please baby, cum.”
His voice, raspy and still sleep muddled, sends you over the edge with a cry of his name. You clamp down on his cock with a low moan, soaking him and your nails bite into his back as you shake beneath him. The intensity of the orgasm has your eyes closing as you shudder through it.
“Goooooooooodddddd.” Javi groans, loving how intense it feels as your body locks down under him. The words that he’s been thinking flutter to the front again but he pushes it away. He can’t saddle you with that and you are happy here. “Fuck, baby.” He huffs, following after you just a short, frantic half dozen thrusts later. Moaning your name as he spills inside you.
You enjoy him inside of you, caressing his back and softly kissing him as he rides out his high. It’s early so you aren’t in a rush despite him needing to get to the airport soon. The words would be so easy to say but you can’t. You can’t give him your heart when you know he doesn’t want it or need it. You swallow harshly, tears stinging in your eyes and you bury your face in his chest to breathe him in.
“It’s okay.” He knows what you aren’t saying because he’s not saying it either. “I’ll give you a call.” He promises. “Letting you know what to say. If you’re gonna have to put up with me for longer.” He jokes as he holds you close for another long moment. “Do you want to shower with me, or go back to sleep?”
You appreciate his honesty. He’s never been anything but upfront with how he operates and you went into this knowing his reputation. You gather yourself together and lean back to look up at him. “I wanna shower with you.” You tell him, knowing you don’t want to miss this time you have left with him if he’s going to be reassigned. He pulls out of you and you exhale shakily, letting him move off of you and you shuffle off of the bed to walk into your bathroom to turn on the shower.
Javi follows you, frowning slightly as he starts to look around the room for anything that he might have left behind. He doesn’t want you to have to clean up his stuff, although one of his shirts is purposefully left on the dresser for you. He had liked how you looked in it, buttons open and exposing your body underneath.
You check the water temperature and it's nice and warm so you step in, grabbing the body wash and you sense Javier step in behind you, his hands finding your hips. “You gonna get me a souvenir from D.C?” You tease, turning your head to look up at him.
“Sure.” He smirks at you and wraps his arms around your back. “What do you want? One of those lighters? Coffee cup? T-shirt?”
You smirk, “snow globe. It’s stupid but I’ve collected them since I was a little kid. My dad used to get me one when he would travel for work so I have a collection from all over the country but not D.C.” You reveal and squirt some body wash into your palm, setting it down before you begin washing him.
“I’ll get you one.” He promises, making a mental note to make sure he finds you the best snow globe he can. “One that is perfect to finish off your collection.” Even if he doesn’t come back to Texas, he will send it to you. “Are you working today?” He asks as you wash his body for him.
You nod, “Diana wants me to work on the specials for the weekend. She wants to try something new…brunch.” You wrinkle your nose, “mimosas and omelets so I gotta train another chef for breakfast food.”
“Oh, that will be good.” He nods. “Those are popular now, aren’t they?” He asks, frowning slightly. 
“Yes they are.” You assure him with a smile, making him chuckle. 
“You’ll have to tell me stories about the drunk ladies being loud.”
You grin, "oh I'm sure there will be stories. Danny already agreed to be security." You joke and continue washing him. "Shit, he's gonna have his hands full." Javi jokes and you giggle, not saying anything else for a few moments until you reach up with soapy hands to cup his cheeks, "I'm gonna miss you, Peña."
“I’m gonna miss you too, hermosa.” He looks into your eyes seriously. “It’s been a lot of fun and I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.” He can’t admit how much he’s enjoyed it, but the sentiment is softer and sweeter than just a fling.
You finish washing him and he reciprocates, washing you and you reach out to wrap your arms around his neck once you are both standing under the water. You don’t say anything, just standing there until the water goes cold while he presses soft kisses to your skin. You step out of the shower and grab a towel for you and hand one to Javi. You’re both quiet as you get dressed after brushing your teeth - Javi ended up keeping a toothbrush at your place - and you head into the kitchen to make coffee.
You don’t say much but he guesses there isn’t much to say. Dressing in jeans and a button up, it’s a bit different from what he was wearing on the ranch, and he carefully repacks his bag. The hanging bag is in your living room with his suits in it and you had teased him that you couldn’t see him wearing a suit at all. Bringing his carryon into the living room, he sets it down and wanders into the kitchen to find you.
You lean into him when his hands find your hips as you pour his coffee and you wonder if this is what life would be like with him. Waking up to him, going to sleep with him. You can see a life with him and that’s what makes you so sad that you won’t get the chance to have that. You turn to kiss him when he leans towards you and you spin to hand him the cup of coffee.
“You taste better than coffee.” He takes the cup and sets it down behind you so he can cup your cheek. Feeling slightly desperate since he doesn’t know what is happening, he pours himself into the kiss and holds you close.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him and he pushes you up against the counter. You don’t know if or when you’re gonna see him again so you enjoy his kiss, savoring it for when you’re alone. You pat his chest after your hands slide down once he pulls back. You look into those dark eyes, knowing you need to have this conversation. “Javi, if…if you’re gonna go back to Colombia, I need you to do whatever it takes to keep safe. We aren’t together so I know what you need to keep going. Whatever it takes to get you home again. It doesn’t matter what you do if it keeps you safe. We aren’t together so I can’t judge you if you…you know.” You trail off, not wanting to vocalize fully what you’re trying to say.
He nods seriously, frowning slightly. “And if you….find someone, I’ll-“ he swallows. “I’ll wish you the best and stay away.” He feels an astute sense of jealousy at the idea, but he can’t demand that you wait for him. He has no clue what would happen and he doesn’t want to do that to you. It’s best if he just lets you move on. “You deserve to find happiness, hermosa.” He promises, leaning in and kissing you again softly. “I’ll call you, okay?” He asks.
You nod, wanting to cry but you need to be strong. You will know if you're meant to be if he calls you from D.C and tells you he's coming home. You kiss his jaw and step back from him so you can work on making your cup of coffee. You sip your coffees while the morning news plays on the T.V on your counter and eventually, it's time for him to go. You watch him as he puts his carry on and garment bag in his truck then he's facing you to say goodbye. "Whatever happens, I will never regret meeting you at the wedding and spending this time with you." You promise him, "I - you know what I want to say."
He does know, nodding as he puts his hand on your waist to pull you close one last time. “I know.” He doesn’t say it either but he leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours. “Be a good girl, hermosa.” He murmurs, smirking slightly. “Okay?”
You surge forward to press your lips to his, hungry and desperate to absorb as much of him as possible before he drives down the street. He devours you back until someone honks and you pull back with a grin, "you know I can't be good." You tease and he chuckles, squeezing your waist before he lets go. "Well, as good as you can be." He winks and you nod, stepping back from him. He winks at you after he gets into his truck, closing the door and winding down the window so he can get one last look at you. You blow him a kiss before he drives off and you stand there until his truck turns the corner to head towards the highway. With a choked sound, you make your way inside to get ready for work. It's going to be a long wait until he calls you.
****
Javi taps his hand on the top of the pay phone as he waits for the call to connect. He had memorized your phone number and your address, the snow globe and some other trinkets for you from D.C. already packed up and shipped out. He had actually done his shopping as soon as he had gotten in. He hadn’t wanted to forget, or not have time. He hears the phone ring about four times and as soon as he’s expecting the machine to pick up, your voice comes across the line breathlessly. “Hello? Hello?” Your voice makes him smile, albeit sadly. 
“Hey hermosa, you miss me yet? Or happy to have your extra pillow back?”
Your heart flutters at hearing his voice, "you know I miss you, Peña but it's nice to spread out at night." You tease, remembering the way he'd wrap around you while he slept. You know why he's calling you, the tone in his voice. "You got reassigned?" You guess, wanting to hear him say it.
“They are sending me back to Colombia.” He admits quietly. “Station chief.” He was surprised by that one. He had imagined going back in disgrace, but they want him to take down the Cali Cartel, or that’s what they say they want him to do. It could just be a bogus assignment.
Your eyebrows raise, “station chief?” You ask and he hums. You aren’t surprised that they want him back there. From what you’ve heard, he’s a good agent and you know that his job is important to save lives, no matter how much you want him back in Texas. “I - wow. That’s good news.” You half lie, tears stinging in your eyes but you try to remain strong for him.
“It is.” Javier knows that he’s being given a second chance and he wants to redeem himself. Do things the right way. He wants this to show the brass that they were wrong for sending him home and allow him to see this through to completion. “I leave in two days. I’ll call you when I get settled, okay?”
You bite your lip for a moment until you reply, “yeah. Of course. I’ll speak to you soon, Jav.” You muster up a smile so you sound happy for him when you both say goodbye. It’s hard to be happy when you know he’s leaving to go to Colombia for God knows how long but you made an agreement to both continue living your lives if he didn’t come back to Laredo so that’s what you’ll do…continue living your life without him.
****
It’s been twenty-two months since he’s been back in the US. Twenty-two months since he’s seen you and he’s more than a little nervous as he pulls up to the restaurant. He hadn’t called and told you he was coming home, he couldn’t. It’s been three months since he’s called you, caught up chasing the bad guys and figuring out that no one was innocent. He sighs as he throws the truck into park. Wondering if this was a mistake, and if he should bother. There’s only one way to find out, and he shoves the door open so he can go see if you still want him.
You look up from the cash register as the door opens and your jaw drops when you see a ghost of your past. “Javier.” You exhale and step out from behind the bar, brushing yourself down as you walk over to him, “you’re back.” You grin and he nods, “hello, hermosa.” He greets you and you surge forward to wrap your arms around him. “I can’t believe you’re back.” You gasp, breathing him in and reminded of your time together nearly two years ago.
Chuckling, Javi wraps his arms around you and his hug is probably a bit tighter than he would have normally given, but he’s so fucking happy to see you. “Have you been as good as you could be?” He asks jokingly, wondering if you’ve moved on or if you’re still single.
You open your mouth to respond but you hear, "well she's been a good girl until now." You look around Javier's shoulder to see Kyle, your boyfriend of 3 months walking into the restaurant. 
You reluctantly push Javi away from you, turning to walk towards Kyle. "Javi. This is Kyle, he's-" 
"her boyfriend." Kyle answers for you, curling his arm around you possessively.
Javi tries not to frown at the over aggressive display, but he holds his hand out to shake the other man’s. “Javier Peña.” He offers. “I’ve been out of the country for a couple of years.” He doesn’t want to make waves for you. “Just wanted to catch up with an old friend.”
Kyle nods, shaking his hand a little harder than necessary and you chuckle nervously. "Maybe we can get a drink and catch up properly another time?" You suggest, looking at Kyle who offers you a forced grin, "sure. We can arrange that, baby." His hand slides down to squeeze your ass and you glance around the restaurant until your eyes meet Javi's. "It was good to meet you but this one has work to do." Kyle slaps your ass and you wince a little, nodding towards Javi. 
"I better get to work. I'll call you." You promise and Kyle drags you back, "you forgot to kiss me." He complains and pulls you into him so he can kiss you in front of Javier.
The message is heard, loud and clear. He nods and backs away as Kyle seemingly tries to deepen the kiss into some sort of face sucking event. Every instinct that he has developed during his time in the DEA tells him that Kyle is bad news. Although he’s aware that he’s also jealous, so he might be imagining things. Turning around, Javi hates that he missed his opportunity, but he will respect your relationship. He will be your friend and forget that he had hoped to go home with you tonight.
You hate that Kyle feels the need to possess you like that, especially in front of Javier and it makes you question your entire relationship. He’s been so sweet and kind until now, making you feel wanted. Something you haven’t experienced since Javier left and after pining for him for a year and a half, you decided to open yourself up to someone else, not expecting to find someone to be with but you know that Kyle doesn’t make you feel even a third of what Javi does.
Making his way back to the ranch, Javi spends the entire drive feeling sorry for himself. Telling himself that he should have told you how he felt, called more. He sighs and wonders if he would actually hear from you, or if that was a polite brush off. At least you didn’t hate him, that should count for something.
Kyle came back to pick you up after work and you were immediately confused by how cold he is as he drives to his place. You’d arrange to watch a movie at his place earlier and you wish you hadn’t now, that you had driven to work because you want time to process seeing Javier again and you want to call him. “It was nice to see your friend earlier.” Kyle says and you sense his tone. 
“Yeah. Javier hasn’t been in town for a couple of years and we met at Danny’s wedding.” You explain and Kyle grips the steering wheel. 
“You fuck him?” He asks and you swallow harshly, “it was two years ago. I haven’t seen him since he left to go to Colombia.” You answer, not wanting to lie, and Kyle doesn’t reply. You bite your lip as Kyle pulls into his driveway and you get out, wishing again that you could go home.
Kyle rocks his jaw when he gets out of the car and walks around the hood to take your arm and walk you towards the door. He doesn’t like that fucker at the bar, he smells like a goddamn cop and he doesn’t need no fucking cop snooping around his business or his girl. When you are at his front door, he shoves you against it, getting up in your face. “I don’t fucking want you around him.” He spits, holding your arms tight.”You aren’t fucking him again.” 
You wince, “you’re hurting me.” 
Kyle scoffs, “you deserve more than that.” He hisses, “fucking that guy.” 
You shake your head, “it was two years ago.” You try to wiggle out of his grip, “let go of me.” You plead and Kyle chuckles darkly, letting go of you. 
He opens the front door and you rub your upper arms. He locks the door behind him, “you ain’t gonna call him. You ain’t gonna fuck him. I’m gonna teach you a lesson, you little whore. You’ve probably been fucking him the whole time and he’s lying about being gone.” Kyle growls and you shake your head. 
“I haven’t seen him for two fucking years!” You yell and Kyle scoffs, “you’re a fucking slut.” 
You shake your head again, getting angry, “if I was, I would never leave his bed. He fucked me better than you do.” You chuckle humorlessly, wanting to hurt him like he is hurting you. 
Kyle’s face grows dark and he steps back, making you think he’s gonna stalk off but he doesn’t. He growls and his hand comes up to slap you in the face, making you gasp in shock and pain.
“Fucking bitch!” He screams. “No one fucking insults me like that. No one! I’ll show you how I fuck you better.” He threatens, grabbing your arm to start dragging you through the house towards his bedroom. “Fucking slut! After everything I’ve done for you. You’re just gonna fucking leave me? I don’t fucking think so.”
You try to drag yourself away from him, terrified for what he wants to do to you so you tug on your arm, trying to get out of his grip. “Let me go, you motherfucker!” You yell, “fucking let me go!” You scream and he pulls you upright. You take your chance to kick him in the groin, making him howl and let go of you. You shove him while he’s cupping his balls and he falls down. You take the moment to run to the front door, scrambling to unlock it and you manage to get it open, running down the driveway and along the street, screaming for help.
“You bitch!” Kyle chokes out, cupping his balls and squeezing out some tears. “When I get my fucking hands on you, I’m gonna make you pay.” His groin is on fire and he curses you, imagining how he would make you cry for kicking him and humiliating him. 
One of the neighbors down the street opens her door and you run up to her, sobbing as you beg for help. “Come in dear. Let’s call the police.” She says, ushering you into her front room and she grabs her phone, calling the police but you shake your head, asking to use her phone. 
“I need - I need to call Javi.” You manage through your cries but the woman calls the police. “Please let me - I need to call him.” You plead and she hands you her phone. With shaking hands and through tears, you phone Chucho’s ranch and Javi who answers with a grunted “hello.” You sob at hearing his voice, “Ja-Jav. I- I- I need you.” You choke, unable to speak properly.
Javi had been cleaning the dishes when he had picked up the phone in the kitchen. “Hermosa? What’s wrong? Where are you?” The frying pan is dropped into the sink and he grips the phone tightly, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. He has never heard you sound like that and he doesn’t like it. He’s heard enough scared women before, on the verge of hysteria because of something horrible. “Where are you, I’m coming.” 
“I- he- Kyle. He tried- I need you. He - he nearly-” You choke and hand the phone to the kind woman, “can you tell - tell him where - where I am?” You ask her, choking on sobs as the reality of what could’ve happened still hasn’t hit you.
“Is someone with you?” Javi has already grabbed his keys but he needs an address. “Hello? Goddamnit! Hello?” 
The woman winces and introduces herself. “Señora Álvarez, señor.” She murmurs before she rattles off her address. 
“You tell her I’m on my way.” Javi rushes out. “Tell her I’ll be right there! Stay there! I’m coming.” He slams the phone down and rushes out to the truck. He has no idea what might have happened, but from  your panicked voice, it isn’t good and he doesn’t even hesitate to pull his gun out of the glove box as soon as he gets into the truck. Slinging rocks as he shoots down the drive to race across town to you. 
You sob when the police arrive, barely able to get the story out when all you want is Javier. You sob, asking them where Javi is and you hear him as he pushes his way into the house, past the police officers and when he kneels in front of you, you surge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.
Softly shushing you, even as he is listening to the police chief tell him what happened, Javi scowls. 
That bastard needs to fucking die for laying his hands on you, Javi’s arms tight around your body and he starts to rub your back. “And the bastard denies all of it?” The chief had sent an officer over to Kyle’s house and he had answered the door, telling the officer that you had gotten mad at him and told him that you would ruin his life. It throws your story into question, but Javi believes you. “Hijo de puta.” He groans when the officer nods. 
You pull him close and shake your head, “he said - he was going to rape-” You choke out, unable to finish your sentence as you bury your face in Javi’s neck. “He slapped me and tried to drag me in- into the bedroom.”
Jaiv growls and tightens his hold on you, furious that the bastard would try to hurt you. Instinctively, he knows that it was because of him. “Fucking bastard.” He hisses, wishing he had his badge still, he would go kill the motherfucker. Pulling back, he holds your chin in his fingers and tilts your head towards the light. “Your face is swollen.” He looks at the officers. “Photograph this.” He orders, even though he has no authority. 
The cops don’t argue, taking photos of your face and your upper arms from where he grabbed you. You manage to calm down enough to give your story to the officers who don’t seem convinced but you just want to go home. Javi thanks the officers and the woman who gave you refuge and you let him guide you out to his truck. “I don’t want to go home.” You admit, terrified that Kyle is going to find you there.
Javi shakes his head. “You aren’t going home.” He promises you. “You're coming home with me.” He explains. “My pop has a ranch.” You know this, but he’s talking to keep your mind occupied. “I can protect you and you’ll be safe from that asshole there.”
You nod, getting into the passenger side and he gets into the drivers side after shutting your door. Your eyes are sore from crying and you feel exhausted now that you’re safe with Javier. “Thank you for coming to get me.” You tell him softly after he starts the engine and begins to drive to his father’s ranch.
“Don’t worry about that.” He reaches over and takes your hand, holding it gently. “Tell me what happened. If you can.” He knows that talking to uniformed cops is very different from a one on one with someone you trust. “What caused this? Tell me at your own pace, hermosa.”
You swallow harshly, trying to gather yourself. You squeeze his hand harder and you inhale deeply. “I- we got back to his place and we were kind of arguing. He didn’t want me seeing you again and accused me of - of fucking you the whole time we’ve been together. Called me a whore and said - said no one insults him because I- I told him- I said that you fucked me better than he does and he - he was furious. His eyes went black and he - he grabbed my arm and tried to drag me to his bedroom. Said I can’t leave him after everything he’s done for me. He wanted to - I - I managed to kick him in the balls and get away from him.” You hiccup as you finish the story.
Javi curses under his breath, furious and ready to kill this asshole. He will call the police chief and see what can be learned about him. He has to have a record, Javi can smell it on him. He brings your hand up to kiss it, squeezing softly. “I will make sure you are safe, hermosa.” He promises. “The ranch is safe and my pop and I will make sure no one comes up that you don’t want to see.” He will make sure his pop keeps his rifle and his handgun on him. “I doubt that pussy will try anything else. He just wanted to prove he was a man. But a man doesn’t hurt a woman.”
You feel safe already with Javi, knowing that you need to call Diana and tell her you need to take a couple of days off. You look out the window as he drives to his father’s ranch and you are scared of Kyle finding you but you trust Javier with your life.
“I’ll let you borrow something to sleep in.” He offers quietly. “And tomorrow I’ll take you to get some of your things.” He knows you will not want to go by yourself and he wouldn’t let you, but you can’t live in his t-shirt and boxers. “I’ll call Diana for you if you want to take a shower.”
You nod, squeezing his hand again and You murmur, “thank you.” When he arrives at his father’s ranch, he escorts you inside and to his room and you sit down on the bed, feeling exhausted. “I’m gonna take a shower if that’s okay?” You ask, wanting that bastard's touch washed off of you.
“Yeah.” Javi nods and opens his door to point across the hall. “Go right in there and I’ll bring you a towel and something to wear, hermosa.” You stand and move to slide by him but he captures your wrist and gives you a serious look. “You’re safe here.” He promises. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
You believe him and you nod, “I know.” You tell him and make your way across the hall after he lets go of your wrist. You turn on the hot water after closing the door and once you’re under the water, you allow yourself to cry, sobbing as the water flows over you. The realization of want nearly happened makes you want to scream and you are so grateful you got yourself away from that asshole.
Javi hates hearing you sob. Once you had closed the door, he had gone to his pop and explained the situation. Chucho had growled that anyone coming onto the ranch would be met with a gun, a promise Javi could take seriously. He called Diana and explained that you were okay, but that you were going to be taking off for a few days. Also let her know that if that Kyle bastard came into the restaurant, she was to call him immediately. Once those tasks are done, he gathers up a towel and his softest clothes to set on the toilet for you.
You finish showering and see the clothes on the toilet. You dress in Javi’s clothes and you breathe in the scent of him and the detergent he uses. When you open the door, he’s sitting on the end of his bed and you walk across the hallway to him. “Can you stay with me tonight?” You ask, wanting him beside you to feel safe.
He watches for a moment before he nods. “I’ll stay with you.” He murmurs quietly. He knows this isn’t a sexual request, you don’t want him to fuck you. You want the physical comfort of someone you trust keeping you safe after a bad ordeal. He leans over and kisses your forehead. “I’ll get ready for bed. Do you want some water or are you hungry?”
You nod, “water please.” Javi nods and stands up, pulling the covers back for you and you get in, watching him as he unbuttons his shirt and you are immediately comforted by his presence. He disappears after stripping down to his boxers and he comes back into the room with a bottle of water for you.
Javi hands you the water and caresses your cheek gently before he steps across the hall to brush his teeth. He would normally have a cigarette, but he’s going to just forgo that, not wanting to leave you alone for too long with your thoughts. Finishing up quickly and slipping into the bedroom and closing the door, he sighs softly when he sees you still sitting at the end of the bed. “What side do you want, hermosa?”
You glance behind you, “what side do you sleep on?” You ask and when you see the glasses he would never admit he uses to read, you know he sleeps that side. “I’ll sleep on this side.” You gesture to the side with the empty nightstand. He nods and you stand up to slide under the covers on that side. You watch Javi get in and he pulls the covers higher over you. “Can you- can you hold me?”
“Of course, hermosa.” He hadn’t assumed you wanted him to hold you, but he had expected it. Opening his arms, he lets you curl against his chest and then closes them around you. Holding you tight to him and rubbing your back. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly. “I wish that this didn’t happen. Especially because of me.”
You shake your head against his chest, “it doesn’t matter. He- it wasn’t your fault. He was gonna do it one day. Whether it’s you or another man that looks at me the wrong way. He was - I shouldn’t have dated him. I just - I did it because I didn’t think you were gonna come back. You stopped calling and - shit. I just - I thought he was nice at first. This is my fault.”
Guilt settles over him like a weight and he sighs. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes. “I got caught up trying to close that fucking case. I was working nonstop and when I did think about calling, it was way too late to wake you up.” It’s no excuse, but he wants you to know he didn’t just stop thinking about you. “He’s a drug dealer.” He tells you. “Just a gut feeling, but I think that’s what he’s going to end up being.”
You lean back to look at Javi, “a drug dealer? I- I never - he never told me anything. He said he had a security business and that’s why he had men coming to his house and - God, I’m so stupid. I should’ve known.” You believe Javier, knowing he can read people like a book.
“Don’t worry about that.” Javi shakes his head, his eyes dark. “It’s better that you didn’t know. I don’t have proof yet, he just gives me that feeling.” He admits.
You bury your face back in his chest, breathing him in and you close your eyes. You’re exhausted and you’re back in his arms. You want to sleep and forget all about this nightmare of a night. “Wanna sleep.” You murmur into his skin.
“Go to sleep, hermosa.” He hums. “I’m right here.” He continues to rub your back softly as he listens to your breathing start to even out as you fall asleep.
**** 
The morning sun shines into the bedroom through the gap in the curtains and you wake up, momentarily forgetting that anything happened last night, just remembering that you’re in Javi’s arms again. You snuggle into him, throwing your leg over his hip when you feel his morning wood poking into you and you gasp.
Your gasp wakes Javi up, grunting and opening his eyes as he looks over to you. “Everything okay?” His voice is gravely and he clears his throat. Looking around as he blinks a few times and then back at you. “Nightmare?” The sun is starting to rise, but it’s still early and he pulls you closer. “‘S’okay.” He grunts. “Go back to sleep.” 
You rest your head back on his chest, wanting him to erase the touch of that asshole. You press closer, shifting your hips to grind against him, “need you.” You murmur, hoping Javier still feels the same way you do.
Javi’s eyes flutter open and he twitches against your hip. “You sure?” He asks, hand sliding down and under your t-shirt to rub your bare back. “You want to? Or you think I want to?”
You whimper, pushing yourself impossibly closer. "I want to. I need to.  need - I haven't - he wasn't you. I still - I want you." You finish, getting flustered at the way he caresses your back, "please baby."
He understands what you mean. He had slept with someone as soon as he had figured out the assignment was basically chasing his tail. He hadn’t felt good when he woke up in her bed and he hadn’t even really enjoyed himself. He hadn’t slept with anyone else the entire time he was there. “I want you too.” He promises, hand sliding down to your ass and he squeezes. “Fuck you want to ride or you want me to roll you over?”
You grind against him, “want you to roll me over. I need to feel all of you, want to feel the weight of you, baby.” You confess, sliding your hand down his chest and into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his hard cock to pump him a few times.
Javi groans, and rocks his hips into your fist, enjoying how you don't seem to be put off by a man's touch. He's glad that bastard didn't manage to get you back to his room and he's proud of you for being so strong. He shifts, pushing your hand away as he can roll over and take you onto your back. "You want me to make you forget?" He asks, kissing your chin.
You nod, knowing you shouldn’t want to be touched, but this is Javier. The man who’s shown you nothing but respect and has kept you safe every time you’ve been with him. He told you about Helena and the other girls. A bad man wouldn’t try and help them. You trust him with everything you are. You tilt your head to press your lips against his. “I want you to touch me. I want you to make me forget ever knowing him.” You plead softly, caressing his back as he pushes his shirt up your body.
“I can do that, hermosa.” He promises, pulling your shirt over your head as you lean up and tosses it aside. His pop won’t be up anytime soon so his mouth follows you back to the bed, wrapping around a nipple and sucking like he is trying to get milk. His fingers dive under his boxers, assuming that this jerk off hasn’t made you cum a lot. He’ll change that and you’ll only think about him for the next few hours.
You moan when his fingers find your clit and you have missed him so much. It’s like a part of you is returned as he kisses along your chest to take your other nipple into his mouth and his fingers rub your clit. “Fuck. I have missed you so much.” You sigh, “so damn much baby.”
Humming, he continues to rub your clit while he sucks and bites at your breasts. Making your nipples hard and puffy from the attention, he flicks his tongue over the hardened numb and chuckles when you gasp his name. “Do you want me to lick your pussy?” He asks, looking up at you. “Or do you just want me to fuck you?”
You shake your head, breathless already. “I need you inside of me. Please. Don’t want to go another moment without you.” You beg and reach down to squeeze his cock again, using your feet to push his boxers down to his thighs. “I need you, baby.” You whine, getting a little desperate as he takes his time still rubbing your clit.
He still has to get his boxers off of you so he can fuck you. Leaning back onto his knees. He drags the material down your legs and pushes them up into the air so he can pull them off and then spread your legs around him. “Fuck, dreamed about this pussy for two fucking years.” He confesses, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping himself.
You aren’t stupid enough to think he hasn’t been with other women but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You reach for him to drag him back down onto you and you bring his mouth to yours. “No one could ever compare to you. No one.” You promise him, “dreamed about you too. All the time. You wanna use a condom? I didn’t - twice with him and he used a condom.” You don’t wanna talk about that motherfucker but you want him to feel comfortable.
“Trust you.” He promises, leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours. “Hermosa.” He whispers your name as he lifts a leg onto his hip, and notches his cock at your entrance. “Look at me.” He orders as he starts to push inside you.
Your eyes meet his and you inhale sharply when he starts to push inside of you. Your eyes don’t leave his and you reach out to caress his shoulders, loving the way he pushes slowly inside of you, stretching you out. “Oh baby.” You sigh, tilting your head back once he’s fully inside of you, unable to keep your eyes open when he is finally inside you again.
“Shit.” Your ex was stupid, insane to allow petty jealousy to ruin a relationship with you. He was grateful, because it meant that he was right here with you, able to touch you again. Even if you didn’t deserve the abuse you had been dealt. He rocks his hips shallowly, kissing your neck and lips until he feels you relax and knows he can move.
He starts to move inside of you and it’s like you’re home. You whimper and wrap your legs around him, pushing him deeper inside of you and you moan softly. No words are spoken as he moves inside of you, just soft whimpers and moans and you caress his back, unable to speak with your heart pounding in your chest.
Javi holds you tight, rocking into you at a pace that is less vigorous, more soft and sweet, but there is a snap to his hips when he lunges forward. Enjoying the way you feel under him, he reaches down to rub your clit as he fucks you.
You cry out softly as he rubs your clit, making your walls flutter around him. “Baby. Oh fuck.” You gasp, clamping down on his cock as he pushes deep and the emotions overwhelm you as tears stream down your cheeks while you clamp down on his cock.
Javi closes his eyes, dropping his forehead on yours as he works you through your orgasm. “That’s it, hermosa. So good for me. So perfect.”
You kiss him, soft and slow as he works you through your orgasm and he thrusts a little harder to seek his own climax. “Please Jav. Cum for me.” You plead, caressing his cheeks as his lips hover against yours, his grunts pushed into your mouth.
Javi keeps his eyes on you, aware that you could change your mind at any second, might still, because of Kyle. Watching you as he gets closer with everything and he groans out your name only a minute later as he stiffens above you.
You close your eyes as he cums inside of you, loving how it feels when he paints your walls with his hot seed. He works himself through it and you caress his chest, feeling his heart thumping beneath your palm. You can’t stop yourself when you confess to him breathlessly, “I love you.” Words you should’ve told him two years ago but didn’t because he was leaving.
Javi closes his eyes, knowing that you might not mean it, but he savors the moment. “Te amo.” He murmurs softly, nudging his nose against yours. “I should have told you. Should have brought you with me to Colombia. Thought about asking you, but I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give up your life.”
You sigh, hating how much time you’ve lost together. “I would’ve followed you anywhere but we both had lives to lead. Things to do. I would’ve given up everything for you if you had asked me.” You admit softly, “I loved you so much back then and I still love you. I’m yours, always have been since that moment we met at Danny’s wedding.
Javi hums and he kisses you softly. “Don’t worry, hermosa.” He murmurs. “We will work everything out. I’ve quit the DEA, I’m back for good.” He had wanted to tell you last night, but he hadn’t wanted to make waves with Kyle at the restaurant and then after you called it, it wasn’t the time.
You smile, pleased to hear that he's back for good. You want him to stay. "I want you to stay, baby. I want to be with you." You say as you snuggle into his chest after he shifts onto his back. "I love you." You murmur, caressing his skin.
****
“Why am I so fucking nervous?” Javi grumbles, checking his bow tie for the tenth time since he’s put it on. “The wedding is done, we’ve said our vows.” He turns to you and can’t help but smile at how beautiful you look in your wedding gown. The little church wedding had been a lot smaller than his first wedding, but the reception seemed to include the entire town. He strides over to you and pulls you against him. “No regrets?”
You chuckle, sliding your hands down his chest to adjust his jacket label. “Never. No regrets, Peña.” You promise and cup his cheek, “why are you nervous? Trying to escape already?” You tease, caressing his cheek.  
“Never.” He promises and you lean in to kiss him softly when Diana comes over with Chucho. 
“Well, looks like my match making skills have come true again.”  Diana winks at her brother in law, “well you got two Peña men married off.” Chucho winks and you raise your eyebrows at Diana.
 “Peña men take a special woman to tame them.” Diana explains and you shake your head, “no taming this one.” You giggle, knowing Javier will always be his own person and you wouldn’t want him to be anything other than himself.
“You tamed me.” Javi pouts and leans in to kiss you softly. “You did. That’s why I decided that I was tired of just having sleepovers.” His fingers brush the wedding band he had just slid on your finger. “Now that the pictures are done, you ready to go out to our own reception?” He asks, sending you a sly wink. “Might have to take you to the bathroom again.”
You giggle, leaning in to kiss his jaw like you did while you were dancing. “Now you definitely will be taking me to the bathroom.” You murmur into his skin and he groans softly, “yes, Señora Peña.” He says and you love hearing that. Diana’s match making skills are second to none and despite yours and Javi’s efforts to keep it casual, you couldn’t resist making it forever.
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pedro-pedrito-pascalito · 2 years ago
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Imagine your boyfriend coming home after a long week of hard work. Running after sicarios and dealing with death on the streets.. he‘d waste no time tasting you, holding you in a near death grip like he feared you might disappear right here.
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spooky-pomegranate · 1 year ago
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Pablo's Ghost (Part 4)
Colonel Carrillo x F Reader (18+) 🔥 Word Count: 3.5k
Summary: After ten months apart, Carrillo shows you how badly he’s missed you. (Part 1) (Part 2)(Part 3)
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There’s something to be said about expectations. While it’s true they often unceremoniously faded away when life can no longer compete with the vivid nature of dreams, expectations are born from observations. They’re created after listening, watching, and experiencing the world and people around us. They’re a dream of what could be based on what has been.
And your expectations of Carrillo were no different. They were created from your memories, from the years you had spent watching him, listening to him, and yearning for him. You didn’t mean to craft them, but they existed within you just the same.
During your time in Colombia, you’d seen Carrillo use his strength to be rough. His powerful arms pushed, grappled, and tossed his enemies around like they were nothing more than rag-dolls. His large hands clawed, punched, and dug aggressively into the flesh of those who dared to cross him. And his deft fingers jabbed, scratched, and squeezed around the throats of sicarios who tried in their wicked ways to tear his country apart.
But as you lay there beneath him, feeling his weight press down upon you every expectation you had of Carrillo was challenged. Where you had expected him to be rough he was soft. Where you had expected him to be fast he was slow and where you had expected him to be mean he was gentle.
The same arms that threw men to the ground carefully held you against him. The same hands that left bruising marks on his enemies, traced delicate patterns across your ribs. And the same fingers that squeezed the triggers of violent weapons, caressed you with a touch so loving it took your breath away.
When you had crawled onto your bed and spread your legs open for him you had meant it as a challenge. You’d hope he’d snap like a wild animal deprived of food and devour you whole. But he hadn’t. He’d told you he wanted to give you more than that. He told you that you deserved more than that. And it was then you knew that Carrillo wasn’t going to fuck you. He was going to break every expectation you had of him and he was going to make love to you. He was going to leave you satiated in ways you had never imagined.
It had started when propped up on your elbows and spread wide open, you had begged him.
“Horacio, I have never loved anyone the way that I love you. I want you. All of you. So please Carrillo… please, I can’t wait any longer. I want to lose myself in you.”
And then he smiled and answered you with a honeyed question.
“Then how could I ever deny you, mi amor?”
It was then he had moved slowly toward the foot of your bed, reaching for the hem of his polo and carefully lifting it over his head. His broad chest was exposed to you for the very first time and you couldn’t help but trail your eyes over his muscles, his beautiful skin, his patch of tufted dark hair that trailed deliciously from his lower stomach into his trousers.
And then you saw them—the healed marks, the remnants of Pablo’s fury, the bullet wounds. There were half a dozen of them, each small, round, and pinkish. The scars were a reminder of how hard Carrillo must have fought to get back here… to come home to you. They made your heartache and you whispered his name.
“Carrillo.”
At the sound of your voice, he moved.
Underneath you, the bed dipped as he sunk one knee onto the mattress and then the other. His hands tenderly reached for your ankles, his calloused palms touching you with a reverence reserved for the most delicate and holy of creatures. Then his lips followed, giving each joint a fleeting and dulcet kiss.
You wanted to tell him how beautiful he looked revering you, but your words caught in your throat. You were entirely too enraptured with the view before you. He was a vision you never expected. He was something so much sweeter.
Carrillo continued his adoration, touching and kissing every inch of you: your legs, your knees, your thighs, your stomach, your ribs. Nothing was left untouched, nothing was left unworshipped. And every time he reached a new place you managed to find a way to breathlessly thank him for his affection. Your hands stroked his arms, you brushed back his soft hair, and you trailed lingering lines across the taut muscles of his abdomen. All the while you offered him bawdy praises that’d dripped from your mouth like sugary syrup.
“You feel so good.” “You look incredible.” “You’re so strong.” You had said.
And that’s how you found yourself here with Carrillo’s body hovering over you and all of your expectations of him completely and utterly shattered. But it was perfect and you couldn’t get enough.
He brought his lips up to the shell of your ear.
“Let me see all of you,” he whispered and you willingly obeyed.
Wordlessly, with one arm you reached behind your back and unclasped your bra. Your breasts spilled out before him and Carrillo groaned. The vibrations of his moan reached straight to your core, and like adding fuel to a raging bonfire, your desire for him burned hotter.
Carrillo’s lips left the shell of your ear and he kissed down the side of your jaw, to your neck, and then lower until his mouth found your breasts. His tongue swirled slowly around your nipple before he sucked it gently into his mouth.
Still propped up on your elbows you couldn’t help but arch into his touch. You whined as Carrillo slid his hands behind your back to pull you closer. He continued to lick, suck, and kiss you until his mouth moved from to your other breast and again you cried out as he lavished it with the same rapt attention. It was all so much and at the same time not nearly enough.
“Please…” you whimpered.
You reached down and thread your hand through Carrillo’s hair, tugging at him until, with a loud and wet pop, he finally let go of your peaked nipple.
“Si, mi amor?” He asked innocently.
Carrillo's gaze met yours and you nearly melted in a puddle. The combination of love and lust he held behind his chestnut eyes was too perfect. But still, you wanted to see something more. You wanted to see him come undone.
“I want to taste you, Horacio,” you said before pushing forward and kissing him, your tongue swirling inside his mouth.
Carrillo pulled back, before resting his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath.
“Do you mean-” he started.
“Yes.” You didn’t let him finish.
Carrillo buried his head into the crook of your neck.
“Aye dios, dame fuerzas,” he mumbled into your skin before quickly pinning you to his chest and rolling you both over. You yelped in surprise at the abrupt way Carrillo moved you both with such ease. It made him laugh and it made you smile.
Your legs were straddling his still clothed thighs and your hands rested on his bare chest. You could feel his heart beat rapidly underneath your sprawling palms as you pushed yourself upright. His chest rose and fell more rapidly than it had before. You could tell that he liked this, you on top of him, his head resting against your pillow that smelled like your perfume. You wonder if he wanted this from the moment he entered your apartment. You wonder if he’d fantasized about this while you were apart.
Carrillo slid his hands down your back to your hips and his grip tightened ever so slightly as you leaned forward to give him another gentle kiss. At the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, you unconsciously rocked your hips forward. And then you felt it… Carrillo’s desire for you, rock hard and still trapped underneath the fabric of his khakis.
“Mhmmm,” he groaned.
The bonfire inside you became an inferno. You rocked your hips again. Carrillo’s groan became a growl.
“Cariño,” he said looking up at you, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them, “are you trying to tease me?”
Your eyes closed and your head fell back as you slide your hands down his chest and over his scars until they brushed the waistband of his pants.
“No. I just…” Your voice faded into silence as your fingers played with the button on his khakis.
“Are you nervous, mi vida?” Carrillo asked his own voice husky and low. You sighed before answering.
“No. I just want you so badly. I’ve wanted this for so long. I… I can’t believe you’re real. I can’t believe you came back to me.”
You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss over a scar just below his right shoulder. Your lips lingered around the mark before moving to another scar on his chest. His skin, tan and smooth, tasted salty against your lips. Carrillo closed his eyes and stayed silent, letting your lips trace over every healed wound. When you’d kissed the last scar by his waist he reached for your cheek, gently cupping your face in his hands.
“You asked me to fight and I promised you that I would cariño.” You looked up at him, your eyes wide and glossy. “You have to know by now that I would do anything for you. Anything you ask of me, I’ll give it to you.”
“Horacio.” You whispered his name with the same holy reverence he had touched you with and it made his heart skip. He wondered what he’d done to deserve something as sweet and beautiful as you.
You slide further down Carrillo’s legs and as you did your eyes immediately fell to the place where you had ground against him. A wet spot remained, darkening the light fabric. With anyone else you might have been embarrassed but with Carrillo it only made you more aroused.
You made short work of the button and zipper on his khakis before Carrillo lifted his hips and you pushed his pants and boxers off his frame. And then the world stopped. Your breath caught in your throat. Now sprung forth from his underwear, Carrillo again subverted your expectations. He was slightly bigger and so much thicker than you ever could have imagined. The tip of his cock was reddening and a single bead of pre-cum leaked down the side.
You reached out tentatively and took hold of him in your hand. As you ran your thumb over his tip you tried to imagine him inside of you. You immediately felt a thudding pulse in between your thighs.
“God, you’re so big,” you whined as you began to stroke him slowly up and down, your fingers brushing over his bulging veins. Carrillo groaned and his hips shifted forward seeking more of your touch.
“I know cariño. I know. You don’t have to- hughhhh,” Carrillo’s voice cut out as your lips wrapped around his cock and you pushed him deep into your mouth. His head fell back against your pillow as you bobbed up and down, taking him as far as you could without choking. You hummed around him, enjoying his slightly salty and musky taste.
“You look so pretty like this,” Horacio hissed, after propping himself up on his elbows so he could watch you better. And god was he ever enraptured with the view. Your lips were stretching, your cheeks hollowing, your saliva dripping everywhere… god you were making him feel so good.
You pushed your head way down to his base and Carrillo dug his hands into your hair… fuckkk maybe you were making him feel too good.
“Querida…” he said, practically begging. “Easy, mi amor. I don’t want to be done with you so soon.”
Your heart fluttered as you pulled away and looked up. He was panting, his body strung tight with tension. He reached for your hands and as you interlocked your fingers with his he pulled you back towards his lips.
There was more fire behind his kiss this time. It still wasn’t bruising when he slot his mouth over yours and chased after your tongue but it was more intense. It was more possessive. It was more demanding. And it was unquestionably more exhilarating too. Knowing you had this kind of power over the strongest man in Columbia made the inferno growing in your chest spread.
You felt like you were burning. He felt like he was burning. You didn’t know how much longer you both could tease each other like this. You were going to explode. But Carrillo must have sensed your patient was running thin because he moved quickly, rolling you over again so your back was on the mattress and he was pressed on top of you.
You smiled so big that he couldn’t help but smile back at you.
“I like when you do that,” you said, squeezing his hands that were still interlocked with yours, “I like it when you toss around me like I'm nothing.”
Carrillo's eyes turned dark. He realized maybe he didn’t need to hold himself back as much with you. Maybe you wanted things to be a bit rougher, a little bit more aggressive. He could do that. He could be that man for you. He let go of your hands.
And then Carrillo reached in between your thighs and in one quick and powerful move ripped away your underwear, pulling it off your body and tossing it to the floor. You yelped again and his smile inadvertently turned wicked. He liked coaxing these noises out of you. These little whimpers and whines… they were better than anything he had dreamt about over the past ten months.
He slid his hand down your ribs, over your stomach, and then to your thighs. But before he could sink his fingers into your wet cunt, you pulled at his wrist, yanking his hand away.
“I don’t want to wait anymore. Please…” You begged as you pushed your hips toward him, rubbing up against his hard cock.
“Mierda,” he hissed before grabbing your hands again and pinning them above your head on the mattress. Carrillo kept you there with one hand while his other hand grabbed his cock. He lined himself up with you.
“Are you sure, mi vida? Tell me you’re ready.” Carrillo asked, his voice practically a growl as he slowly stroked himself.
“I’m ready,” your voice was ragged and desperate, “I love you.”
He pushed into you and you whined again, loudly. You really hoped Steve and Javier weren’t home right now, because you knew this was just going to be just the beginning of the noises Carrillo was going to draw from you tonight. You squeezed your eyes shut and dug your fingers into his hands, searching for something to ground you to bring you back to earth. The pain and pleasure coursing through your body made your head spin. It was perfect. He was perfect.
Carrillo didn’t know if he could move. He didn’t know if he could breathe. You felt so good wrapped around him that his mind was going totally blank. For a long moment, you both froze. You stayed motionless and joined together with his throbbing cock halfway inside you.
But eventually, Carrillo moved again, finding the strength to set a steady and slow pace. It was intoxicating and you knew he felt it too. Carrillo struggled to stay silent above you. He groaned and mumbled a slew of incoherent Spanish phrases in your ear. There was something about how pretty you looked, how tight you felt, how sweet you sounded.
And with every thrust, every roll of his hips, every single growl he gave you, it pushed you closer to the edge. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach.
“Horacio I’m going to…”
“Come for me, mi amor.”
Then with a particularly vicious snap of his hips, you felt the knot uncoil as the world went white and fuzzy around you. You called his name again and again as your back arched off the mattress and he finally let go of your hands. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands found purchase on your back.
“Me estás volviendo loco,” he said as he pulled you upright.
You both were kneeling together on the mattress as he continued to thrust up into you. The new angle sent you hurtling toward another orgasm. He was deeper now, inside you completely to the hilt.
“You’re so good for me, cariño… so good,” he breathed into your ear as one of his hands slid up your back and into your hair. You rested your forehead into the crook of his neck, trying desperately to hold on. But when he spoke next, you couldn’t control yourself. His words were too sweet.
“Te amo más que a nada. Mi corazón es tuyo… tuyo.”
That was it. You let go. You dropped off of a cliff and slipped out of your body as you fell. Carrillo felt your orgasm take claim of you. The pulsing waves of your orgasm were sluggish and each undulation took its time washing over you in long drawn-out swells.
Your body went weak. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, squeezing him, pulling him further inside you. Carrillo couldn’t control himself. He groaned low and deep and with one final thrust, he joined you. The knot you had felt in your stomach had tightened around his cock and you pulled every drop of his warm cum deep inside you. With heavy limbs, you clung to one another.
Carrillo gently laid you both down on the bed. You curled into his massive frame, resting your chin on his shoulder and your leg draped over his hip. He drew small and delicate circles over the skin of your ribs and your side. You both stared into each other’s eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Carrillo smiled at you enjoying the feeling of finally having you, holding you, being with you… but eventually, his smile faded and so did yours.
“I’m sorry cariño…” he whispered breaking the tender silence. His voice was so soft that you weren’t sure you heard him correctly.
“What?” You whispered back in surprise at the sudden shift in his mood. “Why are you sorry?”
“I should have come back to you sooner.” He said buring his head against your neck. Your heart ached. You thread your hand into his hair before kissing the side of his face.
“Why… why didn’t you? Why didn’t you come back sooner?”
Carrillo sighed before pulling back from you to look into your eyes.
“I wanted to be as strong as I was before.” He paused. You could see from the way his jaw was clenching and unclenching that he was trying to consider his next words carefully.
“I wish I could just run away from here with you and leave this all behind but…” his voice faded into the night. His heartbeat felt uneasy in his chest.
How could he be so stupid? Now that he had you he didn’t want to leave you, but surely you would leave him. Surely you wouldn’t want to go through this hell with him again. And he shouldn't ask you to. You’d been through enough pain already. You should just leave him tonight and never look back. That would be best for you.
“You can’t,” you said dropping your hand from his hair.
“No. I can’t. I’m sorry cariño. I know you deserve more, but I can’t let him win. Someone has to stop him.”
You sat up and Carrillo’s heart stopped. Was this it? Was this the moment you told him you couldn’t watch him fight Pablo again? Was this the last happy moment he would have in this god-forsaken country? Was this the last happy moment of his life?
Fuck. He should have said this to you right away. He should have told you the moment he walked in your door that he was still going to go after Pablo despite it all. Despite the odds stacked against him. Despite the fact that he’d nearly been put in the ground twice already. Despite the fact that he loved you.
Carrillo couldn’t look at you. Tears filled his eyes. The room felt cold as silence took hold.
But then your soft hand reached out and cupped his cheek.
“I know who you are Horacio.” He met your eyes and you smiled. “I knew if you came back to me you would still be the man you always were. A fighter. A leader. A warrior…” you paused, breathing deeply.
“You’ve always been what Colombia needs Horacio. It’s always been you.”
Carrillo felt like he’d surfaced from the depths of icy cold water. Oxygen flooded back into his lungs, burning him with a bitter sting. He sat up alongside you.
“I won’t let you do this alone.” You continued, your voice as sweet as honey. “I’ll stand next to you through it all. I love you. Te amo.”
Carrillo pushed forward and kissed you again. You were the most perfect thing he’d ever known. You were his beautiful and perfect cariño. His voice waivered as he whispered against your lips.
“Te amo. I love you.”
—————————————————————
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captainsbestgal · 2 years ago
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Headcannons for Javi Peña post Narcos
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So I wanna credit @the-ginger-hedge-witch and @wheresarizona for their amazing post Narcos Javi series, The Crush and Learning to Live respectively. They 100% are the inspiration in writing these HC cause they're both *chefs kiss*
I 100% think after Columbia most definitely has PTSD. But as you enter his life, he starts seeing the goodness in people again, and starts to really heal. He may not be the same Javi that left Laredo, but he's closer than he thought he would ever be.
Javier is a horse guy, they really bond over their quiet strong exteriors. But you catch him one day softly singing to the horses as he's cleaning them up from a day of work, and he's doing the cutest little dance around them as he cleans. You wish you could video it to savor forever, your strong man being so soft and goofy.
He and his dad 100% go out riding together, maybe they'll talk maybe they don't. It's a good soul healing time.
Chucho adores that Javi is beginning to lighten up because of you. He's swears he hasn't seen his son smile so much since before his momma passed.
I imagine he ends up with a transplant, someone who didn't grow up in Laredo but probably still front Texas. So he ends up showing her all the best spots in Laredo, every date night he takes her somewhere different and tells her stories about himself growing up.
I'd like to imagine Lorraine is supportive of Javi and his bonita/cielito (I adore both nicknames from the two series above so he uses them interchangeably). It's unavoidable that Lorraine and them will cross paths. She sees how happy Javi is, and knows this is where it was all meant to lead for them both.
Bonita and Javi end up adopting dogs, both working dogs for the ranch and pet dogs for the home. I'd like to think a blue heeler for the ranch, since it's a cattle ranch. And maybe a golden retriever for the "pet" even though it 100% follows Javi around while he works the ranch.
This leads to Bonita getting taming some of the barn cats kittens, and having a mess of kitties in the house for her company while Javi and Chucho are out working.
Javi surprises his cielito with a sweet Appaloosa horse for her birthday a few years after they've been married (it'd be weird to get a girlfriend a horse, so yeah). Cielito starts going on those trail rides that Javi and Chucho go on together, and it's a very sweet bonding time for them all. Javi also will take her out on trail riding dates where they end up having a picnic and.... well I don't want Tumblr to yeet this into the abyss so go read the two series I mentioned if you wanna know what they get up to on those picnic dates🥵🥵🥵🥵
Javi proposes with his mommas ring. When he asks Chucho for the ring he takes it off his chain necklace he's been wearing since his wife passed, and says his mom would adore his Bonita. That night Chucho plays his first dance song, feeling super nostalgic and missing his wife. Bonita, not knowing what song it is, asks Javi to dance and he looks to his pop to check if that's OK. It is their song after all. He nods with glassy eyes, and watches his son dance with the love of his life. Chucho starts to play music more and more in the house, especially that song, just to see his son and soon to be daughter-in-law smile and dance more. It becomes Bonita and Javis first dance song.
If Javis PTSD is triggered, I think Cielito learns quickly how to help him manage it. Maybe starts strongly suggesting he go out for a ride with her. Or help her groom the horses. Something to get his mind and body back in the present. If it's out in public she will guide him to somewhere more calm, and by God if people start to talk about him and his mental health in a negative way. Well Bonita may be scarier than Pablo Escobar and all his sicarios combined.
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cositapreciosa · 1 year ago
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Redemption
Alejandro Gillick x gn!reader, (gun wound, blood, the usual for the movies) 1047 words
a/n : super duper self-indulgent Alejandro fic cause I'll write whatever gives me wings at this point. This gif might not be from Sicario but yhlqmdlg Benicio is hot anyway
Tagging the besties-that-might-like-this as usual @narcolini @drabbles-mc @anunhealthydoseofangst
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‘’ Stay still, I don't want to hurt you. ‘’
Any more than he already has. Still, it hurts when Alejandro puts his hand on your stomach, hard and warm against your abdomen. The bullet grazed you, thankfully, but deep and bloody, straight in between the Kevlar, slicing through your shirt. You can’t help but jerk when he presses his fingers into your skin, teeth baring in a hiss. It is dusk now, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the scene orange and red. How long has it been since he left you in this ditch? Why did he even bother to come back?
‘’ You fucking shot me. ‘’
It comes out of you in a cough, as if you can’t believe it yourself. You are probably in shock, you realize, cold and losing blood for what seems like hours at this point. Where is my gun? You taste the blood in your mouth as you speak again. Where am I?
‘’ You fucking shot me. ‘’
You struggle against his hold, opposite hand grabbing his wrist in an attempt to get free. Let me go, you want to tell him, let me be, but it feels like paste in your mouth, dried tongue, you can’t get the words out.
‘’ Stay still. ‘’ He pushes back, and you can do nothing but let him, ‘’ They would have shot you anyway, your cover is blown. ‘’
‘’ Yeah, no shit. ‘’
Every word feels like sandpaper in your throat, scratching on its way out, keeping you from saying more mean and distasteful things. You let yourself fall back against the sand, letting the dust settle again in your lungs. Matt had told you they had caught rumours of your CIA affiliation through the low ranks, but you still went anyway, believing you could work your way through it. Pinches narcos de mierda. Alejandro fetches gauze out of his backpack, pulling you closer to cut the strap of your bulletproof vest with his knife. You feel blood moving down your chin.
‘’ If you heard what they were telling me they would do to you before you got there maybe you wouldn’t be so feisty about this. ‘’
‘’ You threw me in a ditch. ‘’
‘’ And they think you’re dead, you’re welcome. ‘’
He gently wipes the blood off your chin with his glove before turning his attention back to your shirt. It tugs on your skin as it separates from the dried blood, raw, stiff, a new colour from what it was this morning. You let Alejandro turn you to your side, inspecting the wound he inflicted, tucking your face in his elbow as he presses the tissue on your wound.
‘’ You’ve lost a lot of blood, but it’s not that deep, you’ll be fine. ‘’
‘’ I’m surprised they don’t think you’re CIA now- ‘’
You hiss when he starts moving the tape around your torso, pulling it tighter every time he starts another round.
‘’ I guess shooting you was a good move, they don’t suspect a thing. ‘’
Idiots, you want to say, all of them. You remember them dragging your body in the back of a car, carelessly tossed across the seat next to Alejandro, you remember how easy it was to play dead, how cold you were, how the pain made your whole body numb, Alejandro’s hand on your vest to keep you from rolling over as they drove in circles for hours.
‘’ It’s a fucking miracle. ‘’
That he isn’t dead, that you aren’t, that no one caught your whimpers after every bump or Alejandro softly shushing you afterwards. A fucking miracle.
‘’ You tell me. ‘’
He issues no warning as he pulls you up, knees bending, one hand on your shoulder, the other creasing your shirt in a tight grip. His movements are tactical, precise, moving your body in a way that works for him when your whole being can’t seem to follow. Alejandro wraps his hand around your neck as it swings back. You can feel the blood rushes back to your head, feel it in your throat. Hey, he says, stay with me, but the words barely make it to you, everything is thick and foggy and-
Hey, don’t die on me now. The world comes back in a buzz, loud and crackling in between your ears. ‘’ Matt will have my head if you die like this, you hear me? ‘’
His fingers are warm around your scalp, pressing a little, to make sure you really are here, back with him. You notice his eyes for the first time, how brown they are, deep, honeyed, the slight wrinkles that shape between his eyebrows when he frowns.
‘’ Loud and clear. ‘’ You mumble as he steadies you once again.
‘’ Good. ‘’ Good. You can see the relief cross his face, the weight that leaves his shoulder. ‘’ Think you can walk? ‘’
‘’ I don’t know, you tell me. I didn’t shoot myself, did I? ‘’
He scoffs, dismissing your sarcasm, you could mistake it for a laugh, ‘’ I missed for a reason. Let’s get you home, yeah? ‘’
Alejandro doesn’t pick up on your answer, something along the lines of it being a waste of time, that you are cold already, weak. Cállate, he wants to tell you, Cállate, you can do this, let me. He wants to try, for you, for him. And he does, he drags you through the desert, hiding in the streets, makes sure you press ‘right there, hard’ whenever he changes your bandages. His hands slip and hurt, but he does, he has to.
Told you so, he wants to say when he finally sees the bright lights, but he doesn’t. The second he makes it to camp, he brings you to the infirmary first, before Matt, before the men at the gates can ask any questions or take into account the blood that stains both of you. Told you so, but he keeps his mouth shut and tries to forget the way his finger hesitated on the trigger this morning, even when he knew it had to be done, that he hates how relieved he felt when he realized you were still alive.
He hates it, but it is true, it seems pretty clear to him now why he even bothered to come back.
Told you so.
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ficjoelispunk · 1 year ago
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Ch 10 - DO YOUR JOB
You can find all the chapters available here
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<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>
A/N: Well guys, here we are going to start having a different Javier. It’s a toxic couple, I hope you know that. And, if you’re enjoying it, send me DM’s, talk to me, I love knowing what you’re thinking. And I also apologize for the grammatical errors, as you know I am translating, but soon I will have help, and this problem will be solved. Starting next week, I will post one chapter per week. We’re almost over... thank you all.
After the conversation that you are Javier had in the file room. Both you and Javi have avoided each other, even more so, if it was possible. It was ridiculous. But that's what was happening. You greeted each other with just a nod professionally. No words. Whenever they needed to talk, it was Murphy who came to you.
You found yourself sad a few times. Ugh! Many feelings have passed through you. Especially disappointment with yourself, for thinking that with you it was different. Never was. But you missed it. Your miss Javier, who is attentive, careful and protective.
Why did he do this to you?
He gave you a taste of how good he could be, only to later remind you how he could be extremely bad. Reckless and irresponsible. It seemed like he was controlled by two extremes. Either he was pulling you to him, or he was pushing you away from him.
It's okay that the goal of both of you was to catch Pablo Escobar. But unfortunately in this environment you got involved, and now you needed to deal with it.
Javier was right. You needed to stop being innocent. But you didn't have to stop being cautious. And you feared for him, where would it end up taking you both.
***
Christmas was coming. Another year is ending. As you were in the middle of Medellin, with no family, friends, or anything else. Your plan was to update the records, organize the agenda, catalog wiretapping, check possible connections and clues... and ignore Christmas.
Apparently someone had the same plans as you, about ignoring the Christmas spirit.
Another attack took place in the midst of Christmas ornaments, where children would be seeing the bodies of cruelly mutilated dead men.
"Feliz Navidad, Pablo" The sign said.
Javier looked at you on the other side of the table when he received the complaint. You shook your head coming out of the room a little bewildered. Just imagining that Javier could be involved with such violence, you wanted to vomit. Out, of course, the excess of details you had access to. That made you dream for weeks about the possibility of being you or him there. Or anyone in the department. Anyway.
These attacks were fomented by Los Pepes. You knew who had given that freedom. Him. And now there was no more control.
And Javier knew you were right. But now he couldn't go back. Javier created his own monster, which he would have to defeat.
And so followed the deaths, and the deaths that took over the media. Pepes were reported on all channels. And something had to be done.
Colonel Martinez called a meeting.
"We intercepted a call from an Escobar sicario, and we will monitor, and keep them informed. I also want to say that we know that there is another group acting in the same goal as ours, Los Pepes, we should not match them at all. The difference must be clear between them and us."
Javier didn't take his eyes off you. You didn't take your eyes off him. Knowing exactly that this information would come out of there directly to God knows to whom he would provide it. And you didn't have the courage to submit this information to the superintendence.
You became who you feared most in your work. All because of who you hated and avoided the most all this time, and now I couldn't stop thinking. You dug your own grave, and your biggest sin was lust.
You left the room behind Agents Peña and Murphy, tried not to listen to the conversation, but you listened.
"Los Pepes is an interesting unfolding," Murphy commented.
"Escobar has many enemies," Peña observed.
"I heard from Messina that a lot of people are watching them and us," Murphy looked back in his direction.
Javier looked over his shoulders.
You pretended not to notice.
"Are you secretly working for Los Pepes?" Javier asked Murphy relaxed.
"No," he laughed.
"So there's nothing to worry about"
But Javier was. And he had to worry. And you worried about him. Since he didn't have a shred of judgment in that hollow head.
***
The search group went out in an operation looking for the sicario who intercepted the call. But guess what? When they found the house. He had already been caught.
Murphy became suspicious. Late, you recognize it. But he connected the dots.
"When we finally confirmed that it was Jairo, Martinez gave the search order and when we arrived Los Pepes had already caught him"
"So?"
"And how did Los Pepes get here first?"
"He may have been followed. Or he said shit and someone heard it"
"Hm, is that all you have to say?"
Javier shrugged.
"I have a theory"
"And what would it be?" Javier asked while lighting a cigarette.
"I think someone is leaking information"
Javier shrugged again.
"And I think someone who may have reasons for that. You know... someone who stayed out long enough and went through terrible situations that may be being used from the inside..."
Javier stiffened. How could Murphy make an assumption like this about you and not him?
"Don't put her in the middle of it," Javier murmured. And walked away from Murphy, "if you're worried, investigate!" He raised a tone of voice as he walked.
***
You have received new information from the Embassy. You didn't want to pass it on to the Agents. Peña wasn't being careful at all. He didn't filter the information, he dumped everything to Los Pepes.
But it was your job.
You walked to the duo's table.
"We received new information from the Embassy"
Javier reached out to access the envelope, but you handed it to Steve, leaving him in a vacuum.
"Centra Spike give us a Christmas present?" Javier asked anxiously.
"Blackie is receiving phone calls from Envigado," you explained.
"The son of a bitch has a girlfriend," Murphy added.
Javier took the envelope from Steve's hand.
You and Steve looked at each other. You arched your eyebrows. Steve kept watching. Looking at Javier and you.
You reached out to Javier asking for the envelope back.
"I'll take it to Colonel Martinez to investigate"
Javier did not return it, until he read until the last line of the transcript.
"Yes, of course, as you wish," he then returned it to Murphy, and Murphy passed it on to you.
You rolled your eyes.
He left a few minutes later.
You went after it.
Murphy watched.
You picked up Javier on the phone.
"You don't waste time" you interrupted.
He turned to look at you.
"If you're going to keep doing this, even with everything that..."
"Shut up"
Javier sticks to your arm, and drags you to the cleaning room.
"Let me go"
"Be quiet" Javier squeezes your arm.
"You're hurting me" your voice fails, your breathing starts to get irregular "please."
Javier looks at you. He knows that his attitude awakens triggers in you. He lets go of your arm abruptly.
"Stop following me"
"Why? Are you afraid that they will find out that you are the fucking informant of a paramilitary faction?"
He advances on you, you smash your eyes, retreating until you touch the wall. Javier leaves you cornered, putting his hands next to your shoulder. Staring at you. The eyes running down your face, while your breath is heavy. Javier feels your body stiffen. He see the fear in your eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" You murmur, your voice failing.
He deflects his face quickly. Your stomach is turning.
"You're scaring me," you whisper.
"Stop acting like a child" Javier growls to you.
"You may lose your position" you try to find his look.
"It's working, isn't it?" He speaks rudely to you "we are leaving Pablo cornered, never before have we managed to catch so many sicaires, the siege is closing and tomorrow it could be him"
You sort the air through your mouth.
"This is not right, you are a Federal Agent, your work is against drug trafficking does not join him"
"I'm not joining anyone," he leans over you.
"I should report you"
Javier holds your jaw, without strength, but firm.
"Do your fucking job, and stay away from me," he says looking into your eyes.
You push him.
"Why did you rescue me? It would be much easier for you to let me die in that place. It would save you so much regret"
"Stop playing the poor thing, you're better than that..."
You took a step past it, but retreated side by side, to talk more.
"Don't worry Agent Peña, I already understood the message, I understood that you regretted taking me to your bed, and preferred to pretend that you didn't know me when the day dawned, I understood that you feel responsible, rest assured, you have no obligation to me"
"I wouldn't pretend if you slept with me every night"
WHAT? Jesus...
Javier grabs you, running his hand over your waist, pulling your body to his, kissing your lips.
You struggle in the tightness of your body against his chest. But he kisses you without caring about your slaps. Urgent. Messy. Raising you on his lap. Putting you on the table of cleaning material. Dropping the products on the floor. No worries if someone listened to you two in that tiny room. And before you reasoned, you were kissing him back.
Javier's hands squeezed your leg and waist, pulling your body against his, pressing on you. While you were pulling his hair. Your erratic breathing in a desperate kiss.
Javier goes down his lips around your neck, inhaling your perfume.
"I missed you," he murmured close to your ear.
"You'll get over it"
You tilt your head back. While Javier's hands unbutton your shirt frantically.
The other hand snakes under your skirt, you moan. Javier's fingers find the lace of your panties.
Your shirt already unbuttoned, Javier goes down his lips to your bra. Leaning you back to almost lie down on the table. He pulls the lace of the bra down releasing your nipple. That goes straight to his mouth.
You try not to make noise. Javier's fingers, pulling the fabric of your already damp panties to the side, his finger sliding over your middle. You spread your legs for him.
"I think you missed it too," he says with his lips on your skin.
He slides two fingers inside you. You pull the air through your open mouth with pleasure. Trying not to moan.
Your hands go down to his pants, where he is rigid, hard and needy. The touch makes Javier gasp.
"I don't think more than you" you say, touching his cock, disarming him completely.
You straighten the posture, and he establishes himself with his feet on the ground, while you pass your hand through his greeting pressing, massaging. Big and thick, in your small hand.
Javier stretches his hand back to turn the door lock.
You faded his pants and pulled the zipper. Javier leans over to kiss you.
He fucked you there. Against the wall. With his hands in your mouth, to drown out your needy moans, while he slid his cock inside you, strong, aggressive. As if he wanted to punish you. As if that were his punishment.
"I like how your mouth is silent when I'm inside you," he growled gravely in your ear.
You came while Javier held one of your legs next to his hip, giving him a perfect position inside you, leaving him the deepest you've ever felt.
"Javi" you sighed throwing your head back.
"Fuck!" He let out an animalistic sound with his head tilted back, when you started pulsing around his cock, with your body being pressed against the wall, your head hitting against the wall as he sinks violently inside you, with you having spasms of pleasure. Javier couldn't take it for another second, and you felt him fill you with the thick jets painting the walls of your pussy.
It was hard to think and avoid desire. It was difficult to control your body that longed for Javier, when your head couldn't find the strength to simply give you the coordinates to get away from that man.
"I won't keep doing this" you closed the buttons on your shirt.
"What? Sex?" He asks in a fun tone.
You face him.
"It's a little late for you to think about celibacy," Javier mocks.
You fake a fake smile.
"I'm not someone you can come and get what you need when you want, and how you want and then go out acting like I'm nobody, pretending I'm invisible. You don't have to pay me to fuck me, but unfortunately I have feelings"
Javier looked at you seriously.
"I'm not the one you want, it's the feeling, so have fun with others. You don't even want me near you, I don't understand what you think Javier"
"Are you going to have fun with others?" There was an anticipation in Javier's tone of voice.
"Maybe. Maybe I should. Maybe I should have fun with someone who really wants to have fun with me, someone who really cares about me, and it's not just an obligation."
Javier grinded his jaw.
"This won't happen anymore..." you repeated.
You had your hand on the door, turning the key, to get out.
You hesitated for a moment. You waited for an answer, you waited for Javier to say something. But Javier didn't say anything. He just leaned on the table, watching you go out with his head down.
You shook your head. And you left.
Javier tilted his head back, running his hands over his face. Alone in the living room, still with a foggy head about the sex they just had.
He couldn't say anything to you. How to explain that he thinks of you every single day, every fucking moment. That the fucking smell of your body moisturizer sticks to his skin, and it's like a drug that turns off his senses. That nothing compares to when he is inside you, feeling your warmth, as if they were one thing. That he never felt that way.
How could he say that, when he was Javier Peña. When he was leaking information from inside the department to other drug traffickers. You were very involved. He was very involved. That had no chance of ending well. But he didn't want to drag you with him into this hole.
How could he tell you that you mean a lot to him. When his mouth said something and his head said another, and his heart said something even more different.
But Javier was mostly inconsequential. And his inconsistency always ended up speaking louder.
***
At least, the time Javier spent fucking you from the cleaning room, Murphy managed to pass on the information to Colonel Martinez about the listening you gave them earlier about Blackie.
They organized the search group to surround the area. But he did it without Javier. Agent Peña only knew when the search team was leaving the base.
"Fucking Christmas miracle" Peña murmured to himself.
Peña was worried. A whole tactical team positioned to make a blockade, and intercept Blackie, when he knew that from the information he leaked, at any moment, Los Pepes would be there too.
He tried to warn Don Berna. But it was too late.
Los Pepes were already close to the address. And Colonel Martínez ordered a blitz through the region. And they fell on the street where the cars were being stop.
It turns out that the officer responsible for the blitz was the son of Colonel Martínez, and when the Castaño brothers' car was stopped, and asked to present documents. Fidel offered money to the officer.
The integrity of Martinez's son equal to or superior to that of his father. And trying to bribe him triggered exactly what Javier tried to avoid.
When Martinez relocated the units to sector 20 which was where his son was, Murphy passed on the information to Javier, and an icy hollow invaded his stomach, already wondering what it could be.
Carlos Castaño tried to inform the officer that they were on the same side. But in a desperate attitude, the officer pointed the gun at him. All the other paramilitaries in the cars behind came down from the cars, heavily armed, with semi-automatics, and machine guns.
Javier and Murphy arrived and witnessed the conflict. Immediately Murphy got out of the car almost in motion.
"Hey! Hey! Hey!" He despaired when he saw all the weapons pointed at the colonel's son "Calma! ¡Calma! Deja ir el arma” Murphy’s horrible Spanish.
Javier didn't get out of the car. Prosecuting. The shit that was going on.
They started yelling at each other. Threatening each other.
“¡Bravo! ¡Bravo! ¡Bravo! ¡Qué hombres! Bravo” he got out of the car, and clapped his hands "Sí, lo sabemos, todos queremos a Pablo" he was walking to Carlos Castaño "Pero tienes que dejarnos hacer nuestro puto trabajo, ¿de acuerdo?"
Javier was panting. The breathing failed. The tension hovered in the air. He knew everyone there was crazy. And that anyone could start a slaughter.
He approached Carlos Castaño's ear.
"¿Qué? ¿Nos vamos a matar en una puta barrera?" Javier turned to Fidel, right behind his brother "¡Deja caer el arma! ¡Babajo el arma!"
Carlos Castaño handed the gun to Javier.
Javier turned to the officer.
"They think they're helping us" Javier hands the gun to the officer, and holds his face "Okay? Is everything okay?"
"Yes, sir," the officer replies.
"Let's go back home alive" Javier smiles panting "Right?"
"Right"
"Déjalos pasar"
"Ok"
And so it was. They went through the blockade.
And Murphy understood there, what was happening.
"What? I know I was avoiding a bloodbath" Javier shrugged.
Murphy smiled ironically. Understanding everything perfectly now.
In short, they didn't catch Blackie that day. The girlfriend didn't deliver it, of course. And they lost the operation.
Javier had surrendered there. Colonel Martinez also had a moment of lucidity just like Murphy.
You saw Javier pass by your table with big steps, he stared at you for a brief moment, his eyes worried, disappointed. You understood that the situation was not good.
Murphy passed right behind him following his trail. You stretched out on the table to see them talk. Agent Murphy almost stuck to Javier.
"When would you intend to tell me about your new friend Carlos Castaño?"
Javier looked at you over his shoulders. Hesitant.
"He's not my friend. We have a common interest"
Murphy shook his head.
"My God Javi, I hope you know what you're doing"
"Don't worry, I won't involve you"
Murphy looked at you, pointing with his chin in your direction.
"And her?"
Javier stays still.
"What about her?"
"Do she know?"
Javier doesn't answer.
"I'll imagine that she doesn't know and that's why you're not being suspended, since she would report you at the first opportunity, right?"
Javier knew where Steve wanted to go. If you knew and didn't file the complaint, you would be an accomplice of Javier. And if you didn't know, you would be the worst assistant ever seen in the United States of America.
"Right," Javier replied.
"I'm not worried about myself..."
"I know how to take care of myself"
"With this kind of guys you shouldn’t get involved, Javi”
Javier hesitates. He looks at you sitting behind your desk, hold it now after being kidnapped, you've already warned him about it. And he already knew.
"You're going to drag her into the middle of this madness"
"She's very big to take care of her life, Murphy"
"I thought you liked her..."
Javier stared at Murphy.
"If you are interested..." Javier raises an eyebrow.
"Go to hell Peña, if she knows something, and doesn't talk, know that she's taking a risk for you. I'm telling you because you're stupid enough not to recognize"
"They will do this, with or without my help. At least this way, I'm in the middle, and I have control" Javier hesitates "not to cross the limit"
"So as not to cross the limit?" Steve frowned "did they take the girl, pointed a fucking gun at an officer's head and the bandits come out unharmed?"
"Who are the good guys Steve? That’s us?"
The two face each other in silence. Javi walked by leaps and bounds, you accompanied him passing by you with your eyes.
***
The Castaño brothers were being efficient, but Pablo Escobar was Pablo Escobar, he had eyes and ears throughout the city of Medellin.
Escobar managed to find out who were the faces that personified Los Pepes. And he knew that the Castaño brothers would only act like this moved by money. And he knew that Judy Moncada wouldn't have enough money to move them. Following the line of reasoning after Judy, it turns the Cali cartel.
Pablo orchestrated an attack on the wedding day of Gilberto Rodriguez's daughter, blowing up all the millionaire wedding decoration, with the bomb that exploded in the middle of the event.
And it was at this point in history that things went off the rails for good.
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emilybluntt · 8 months ago
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imagine a showdown of every emily blunt character. who would be the sole winner?
i am going to be honest and say that i have been pondering this question all day. i wanted to sit and give this some thought because i wanted the answer to be just right. we are going to just include feature film roles ( none animated ), because most of her tv roles have been eh. we are also not going to consider the one short she has been in.
right off the bat emily ( devil wears prada ), harriet ( salmon fishing in the yemen ), baker's wife ( into the woods ), violet ( the five year engagement ), tamsin ( my summer of love ), girl ( wind chill ), mara ( irresistible ), valerie ( the great buck howard ), prudie ( the jane austen book club ), jane ( charlie wilson's war ), norah ( sunshine cleaning ), and elise ( the adjustment bureau ) are immediately dead. they have zero survival instincts.
the real contenders in this show down would be rita ( edge of tomorrow ), evelyn ( a quiet place ), rose ( wild target ), mary ( gulliver's travels ), sara ( looper ), kate ( sicario ), lily ( jungle cruise ), and freya ( huntsmen winter's war ). are all of these characters badass right out the gate? possibly not, but some of them prove to be resourceful enough to stick around for bit, not a long time, but a bit.
i think rita is the one taking this home though. i mean hell she is the full metal bitch after all. she has killed hundreds of mimics by herself.
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she was the reason that they started to mass produce the exo-suits for the udf. like?? the angel of verdun deserves the respect on her name.
sorry for that long winded answer, but yes! that is who i think would win an emily blunt character show down. yes, some of the other contenders have some points, but imagine if it was rita that still the time altering ability, no one could stand a chance.
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ruinedbylanadelrey · 2 years ago
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Loved your Javier Peña fic! Could you write one where the two are in a secret relationship (because relationships in the DEA can be risky). One day when they are out on an assignment Javi almost gets killed but Reader saves him. Javi gets mad at her for throwing herself in harms way. They eventually make up and Javi thanks Reader for saving her.
Secret relationships<3333
warnings: 18+, violence, usage of guns, javi having a small masculinity complex
masterlist
Javier Peña was the first person you had a connection with in years. You weren't looking for a relationship when the DEA shipped you off to Colombia as a rookie. Your mentor was to be Javier Peña and he showed you how things worked in the world of Colombia, how corrupted everything was.
It left you feeling uneasy every day and would fear going out on the streets knowing there is a price tag on your forehead. "No one is stupid enough to kill an agent," Javi told you on your first day on the job, you were out in the field chasing around some sicarios. 
Working so closely with someone for almost your whole day had you telling Javi about your life back in the States. He loved that you were also from Texas, you missed your hometown and expressed that to him one night. You would close your eyes when you were back at your apartment and imagine you were in your bed back in San Antonio, listening to the cars pass on the street with the faint sound of crickets in the grass.
"Wanna go to the bar, I could use a drink and I think you could too," Javi asks as you gathered your things before leaving the office for the couple of hours you'll have to yourself. You were stunned by his question, you always thought he merely tolerated you.
"Sounds better than sitting in my apartment drinking alone," your answer had Javi moving you both out to the jeep fast. 
The live music was playing and the drinks you had were running through your veins. You seemed so relaxed and it was a good look on you. Javi admired how you weren't ruined yet but the career you chose.
You asked him for a dance, he couldn't turn a dance with a pretty woman. You captivated his mind since the day he met you, it was hard to let you do any work when he just wanted to keep you safe and out of harm's way.
You rested your head on his chest while he led you in the dance, just swaying in time with the music.
"Do you want to get out here?" you looked up at him, that question led to many nights spent in bed with him, and soon blossomed into becoming partners outside of work. You and him kept everything under wraps, relationships were dangerous and frowned upon in the field. 
The sky was black and the stars sprinkled across it, you admired the beauty of the nights since you and Javi had those late shifts a lot more since you came. Javi was smoking his cigarette outside the jeep.
"I think you should quit," you poked your head out the window and smiled at him. It was your favorite thing to say to him, you liked how aggravated he got by it because you were right. He looked back at you and flicked it to the ground, grabbing the pack from the seat and lighting another one. You rolled your eyes at him and sat back in your seat. 
The night was quiet, too quiet for you. Two cars pull behind you and caged in your only way out,
"Get down!" Javi yells at you, he grabs his pistol at the same moment you did. A man from each car got out and held their weapons up and pointed at him. You could see him calculate how he was going to get you both out of there.
You watched in the mirror of the car as the two men stalked toward Javi. They were passed the car unknowing of your existence, your palms were sweaty and the weight of your gun felt heavier than usual. You've been in danger before but it was never at arms length. 
Javi was keeping a cool demeanor with them, his finger next to the trigger ready for anything they might do. His eyes flickered at you for a second and returned to them. You knew you had to do something fast or he would be killed. One man pushed Javi to the ground and stood over him, you moved faster than you could think of a plan.
You crawled out the open window and snuck up on the other man, the cold barrel of your gun pressed the back of the man's head. Your finger lingered on the trigger. Javi looked at you and he saw red while the bang of the gun went off, the other man turned around and scrambled for his gun and another shot rang through Javi's ears. Two bodies littered the ground, you took a breath after holding it. 
You stood there frozen in place, and the realization of you had just killed two people hit you like a ton of bricks. Javi stands up, he takes your pistol from your hands and turns on the safety.
"Get in the car," he mutters before calling in the police to take care of the bodies.
The ride back to the station was quiet. You were still processing what happened, Javi was angry mostly at himself for putting you in the situation. It made him feel small and he hates feeling that way. He never really thought of himself as macho but when you started dating he took on that role to keep you safe.
When you walked to your desk and sat down Javi trailed in sitting himself on the corner of your desk and set down a drink for you.
"You were reckless and shouldn't have done that. You could've died out there," he scolded you, you stared blankly at him. The tears ran down your face.
"What was I supposed to do? Let you lay there and possibly die?" You spat at him, and you became angry with him.
You couldn't let that happen, he was a mentor, partner, and boyfriend.
"If I die, I die. You are to let me handle my life. How can you be so stupid throwing your life away for me?" his words stung, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if anything happened to him especially if you could've helped. You looked at him in disbelief because if the roles were switched he would've done the same thing and you wouldn't have scolded him a like child. 
Since that night he treated you like you were a ghost, just didn't exist in front of him until he had to acknowledge you. It was suffocating to be around him and be ignored, you wanted to leave and never go back. Javi put you on probation and left you to do clerical work while he went on raids and rides.
He watched you pack up your things for the night, your face seemed drained, the dark circles under your eyes has gotten worse since you haven't slept next to him in weeks, and you would stay up most nights scared of the world outside your window. You barely ate, being nauseated every day from your heart breaking. 
Javi walked up to you before you walked out the door, he tugs at your hand and spins you around. His lips crash into yours, you were taken back by his actions. You gave in and your lips moved with his. He breaks the kiss and cups your face in his hands, his eyes dart around taking your feature that he studied when you were in his bed at night.
"I'm sorry...I was angry at myself...not at you, I hate feeling helpless and that you had to something that you shouldn't had to do, forgive me, cariño," you could tell Javi was uneasy with being vulnerable. Your heart swelled when he licked his lips wanting for this fight to over with.
"I forgive you, mi amor, I need you to know that your life matters to me," you said sweetly and he took a deep breath to let his walls come down for you. 
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wardenparker · 4 months ago
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Bones Full of Words, ch 4
Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.
He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia (sometimes internalized and sometimes not), canon typical violence* Mentions of Helena's assault and recovery, snooping, assumptions, jumping to conclusions, nausea/sickness, fatphobia, misogyny, a touch of internalized fatphobia as well, fist fight, canon typical violence, likely inaccurate portrayal of outdated technology. Summary: A whirlwind accidental revelation for Javier comes at the price of more fighting, while you struggle to digest the truth of the situation and how your own jumping to conclusions affects how you have treated people. Notes: These two dramatic idiots have my heart in a very real way. Happy reading!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3
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Helena had tucked herself into bed by the time he came home again, and you were just about finished up with cleaning the living room. Just a few leftovers to put away, and you’ve had some more to eat as well as plenty of water and some aspirin. At this rate you’re pretty much sober again and still have all of your thoughts sunk down the soulmate rabbit hole. Trying to figure out how the universe could possibly pair the two of you has you in enough of a distracted state that you don’t hear the door open as you’re milling around in the kitchen with the radio on.
Throughout driving the girls back to the brothel, they had talked about you. Almost excessively and while he had tried to ignore their comments, he had found himself thinking about that unguarded, affectionate smile that you had given them. Not directed at him, but his stomach twists as he imagines what it would look like if you did. Wondering if he could maybe ease the tension that has been hovering around the apartment and if you are just tipsy enough to find him charming, rather than the gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe.
He hears the music from the hallway, tilting his head when he closes the door and it doesn't turn down. Depositing his keys on the hook and shucking his jacket before he walks into the kitchen to find you shaking your hips very provocatively. Enticing him to move closer, his cock interested in the rhythm you are moving to the music.
Colombian radio hits are vastly superior to American ones in your opinion. Much more danceable and much catchier. Dancing is the spoonful of sugar that helps the medicine of cleanup go down, so you step around the kitchen the way Inez had taught you back in your early days as a resident of Bogotá.
He could speak, he could press against you and dance with you. Or he can watch until you notice him. You are tense around him, you don't like him and to be honest – he doesn't know what the fuck he thinks about you. He would be interested in fucking you, if you didn't hiss and spit at him. Thinking again about how soft you were when he had pressed you against the wall and searched you before you pushed him away. He had been pissed, but not pissed enough that he didn't remember how you felt.
Dancing around and singing along, it isn’t until you turn completely to go make sure you got everything out of the living room that you see him. “Oh!” You stop dead, nearly falling over in surprise. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
"Don't stop because of me, beautiful." He shoots you a charming grin and steps closer to you. "You have some good moves."
Shuffling slightly on the spot, you find yourself torn between utter annoyance that the girls obviously spilled the beans on the car ride home and gratitude that you don’t have to keep this secret from him. “Well…” You shrug and reach to turn down the radio. “Now you know.”
His brows furrow for a split second before he just thinks that you are talking about your moves. "I do." He smirks slightly and licks his lips. "I'm going to thinking about them tonight."
If you roll your eyes any more heavily they might fall out of your head, and you practically groan as you try to side step him to go back out to the living room again. "Sure, Javier. Enjoy that," you drawl.
He huffs slightly, jaw tense. "Frigid." He murmurs under his breath, shuffling slightly and wondering why the fuck he cares about your rejection so fucking much. He's been rejected before. Almost as much as he's been lucky, but for some reason, he doesn't like you walking away from him.
Stopping short just steps away from him, you whirl around soundly and narrow your eyes at him. "What the fuck did you just call me?"
Javi shrugs slightly, his own eyes cutting as he glances back over at you. "If the shoe fits, sweetheart, wear it." He snorts. "No wonder the CIA fuck was appealing."
"So the fact that I'm not falling down at your feet now means I must not have any passion whatsoever?" You hiss, aware that Helena is sleeping and putting in the effort not to wake her up like she's a child listening to her parents fight. "Is that it?"
"No." He frowns at that question and rolls his eyes. "I don't give a shit where you fall down. Jesus, I was just trying to fucking be nice and flirt a little." He walks over to the counter and snatches up a glass. "Won't fucking do that again."
"You didn't feel compelled to flirt with me before, so you certainly don't have to now that you know." There is a deep and unhappy tension to the way you shake your head, snatching up the scattered napkins and one glass left behind and turning back to the kitchen. Knowing that you're soulmates doesn't change the fact that he's presumptuous and knowingly sent Helena into danger.
"Know fucking what?" He opens the whiskey bottle and pours out a healthy measure. "That you fucked all of them? I figured. Listen, I don't give a shit if you like to eat pussy. And I actually don't get off on watching lesbian sex."
"You'd be a hell of a hypocrite if you cared that we've fucked the same women." The reminder grates in your voice. That you've done nothing different than he has and the only reason he might pretend to care or judge you is because you're a woman.
"Jesus Christ, what is your fucking problem?" Javi slams the glass back down on the table with a loud thunk, whiskey sloshing over his hand.
It's a damn good thing the glass in your hand hits the sink before he makes you jump, otherwise it probably would have smashed on the counter. "I just don't see why it fucking matters!" You sling back at him, rounding on your toes to seethe in his direction. "What does it matter who we've fucked or what fucking God or the universe or fate decided? You didn't like me before any of this and you don't have to pretend to like me now."
He is complete and utterly confused, but he doesn't like the fucking venom you throw at him. Unable to resist huffing. "You're the one who fucking acted like a cunt the first time I met you."
"The first time I met you was at the embassy, asshole. And I nearly tripped over my own jaw thinking how good you looked compared to every other douchebag in the place." Far too blinded by annoyance and hurt to censor yourself anymore, you throw the crumpled napkins in your hand across the counters and all but kick the cabinets. "If I had known what a selfish bastard my soulmate would turn out to be, sending a vulnerable woman into the lion's den for information? I might have thought twice!"
It's like the fucking world crashes down around him. Punching the air out of him and making him nearly choke. Soulmate. His mind spins and blanks before it spins again. Javier has never cared about his soulmate, not after discovering that someone could and would lie about that precious status to trick him into a relationship, a marriage that was not wanted. He had narrowly escaped that fate and had never looked back. Only to be kicked in the fucking balls by learning that this judgmental bitch is claiming to be his. "What?"
The look on his face tells you everything you need to know, and you instantly deflate with one key realization. "They didn't tell you."
"Tell me fucking what?" He growls, nearly shaking with denial and shock.
"Javier..." Fuck, fuck, fuck. You are definitely the bitch in this scenario. You can't deny that now. "They've...we've both...they saw our marks months ago. All three of them. We got giggly and stupid drinking whiskey all afternoon and they let it slip to me. I – very wrongfully, apparently – assumed they'd told you in the car when you were driving them home."
He had come home early to pack. He was leaving for Medellín again. Needing to meet up with Carillo and make sure that the information that had been learned that night was put to good use. Only to run into tipsy, happy women and make the mistake of trying to soften up one's rough edges with him. You blame him for what happened to Helena. You made that obvious. You claim to be his soulmate and you hate him. His jaw clenches and he turns around to walk out of the kitchen, needing to get away from you, from here.
"Frigid." You toss at his retreating back, wishing you had something else in your hands to throw out of sheer anger.
Some fucking soulmates you two are.
******
Javier slips out of the apartment less than an hour later. His bag is packed, his room straightened, but he makes sure that there are no sounds coming from the living room. He frowns as he concentrates on the road, knowing Murphy will be pissed that he beats him to Medellín instead of leaving with him in the morning like he had planned, but Javi won't sleep. Not tonight.
"What has your panties in a bunch?" Steve asks around the butt of a cigarette the next morning, when Javi is sitting in the middle of the hotel room with files and notes already spread out on the table around him when Murphy walks into the room. "Couldn't wait for me and share the drive?"
His eyes burn, feeling gritty and heavy. Still, he cuts them narrowly, flicking cigarette ash into the tray and reaching for his sixth coffee cup. Almost jittery as he lifts it to his lips. "Had fucking work to do."
"Easy there, Cujo." Putting up both hands in a gesture of peace, Steve flops his suitcase down on the far bed to complete the motion. "Don't bite me for teasing."
“Fuck yourself.” Javi hisses, still in the foulest mood from realizing that you completely blame him for Helena. It’s one thing to blame himself, but he had begged her not to go, only to have her insist that she could. Then he had warned her not to ask questions, to play the part of the brainless beauty, there only to satisfy their sexual urges. But you blame him as if he were the one that had abused her. It makes him want to throw up.
"What the hell happened to you, man?" Steve Sits down beside him and frowns. "This is about four times pissier than I've seen you before." And he can't let Peña go out there and do any kind of work with his temper like this. It'll blow everything up. So he has to diffuse the tension now if he can.
“Don’t fucking worry about it.” Javi drains the rest of the coffee and sighs, putting the cup down and rubbing his eyes.
"I know I'm just a hick," he raises his eyebrows and glances at his partner over his aviators, daring Peña to argue. "But it doesn't take an Ivy League degree to tell you've got shit on your mind."
Javi snorts, mildly impressed when the man’s tenacity. When Murphy doesn’t look away, he sighs and closes his eyes, reaching up and rubbing the sore spot on the back of his neck. “It’s—” he pauses and remembers the way you had looked at him like he was no better than a fucking sicario. “Found out who my soulmate is.”
"Yeesh." The sound Murphy makes is something like a wince and a low whistle mixed together. "Not exactly an ideal discovery, I take it?"
“Every man doesn’t want a ball busting bitch who hates his guts?” Javi snorts, shaking his head.
The other man huffs a laugh, shaking his head at the irony of Javier Peña's soulmate being one of the only women in the world who didn't swoon when he looked at them. "That bad, huh?"
“Don’t want to talk about it.” He clenches his jaw and shakes his head as he crushes out another cigarette. He’s going to be here for at least three days, so the best thing for him is that you will be out of his apartment when he gets back. He can forget that you had ever met him and pretend like he’s not a little crushed that his soulmate isn’t the balm on his soul like he had secretly wished for.
"Yes, you do." Steve asserts with confidence.
“No, I don’t.” He argues, picking up another cigarette and flicking his lighter open.
"If you didn't want to talk about it, you wouldn't even have given me a morsel," Murphy argues, though he keeps his tone light and inconsequential. "Who is she?"
“No one you know.” He sighs and closes his eyes after he blows out the smoke. “She blames me for what happened last week.”
"Shit." Murphy lets out a breath and shakes his head, knowing that that must be cutting Javi deep. "She knows the whole story and still...?"
“Guess fucking so.” He sighs. “So just— yeah. I want to work and fucking forget about her and her stuck up opinion.”
"I'd wager she doesn't know everything, otherwise she wouldn't." When Javier glares at him, Steve puts up his hands in surrender again. "I'm shutting up about it now. That's just my two cents, alright?"
“Can we work now?” Javi asks testily, motioning to the files.
"Fine. Yes. We can work now." Murphy acquiesces. Though he has nothing but endless that he may never have the answers to. Especially if Peña's soulmate really is as prickly as the man says.
“Good.” He had come to Colombia to catch Pablo Escobar, not to fucking worry about a soulmate.
******
The morning is excruciating, but not because of a hangover. Not because you don't sleep enough, or because you slept weird and gave yourself a mystery pain. It's because you had stress dreams the entire night of terrible things happening to Javier with nothing but anger and hateful words in the air between you. In one of them he had even refused to let you see him in the hospital as he lay dying because he hated you so much.
And the worst part about every single dream was that you deserved it.
So waking up in the morning is excruciating, but you decide to do something about it. A shower, clean clothes, even a decent outfit from the clothes that you had packed to bring over to his place. The effort you put in to make yourself not just look presentable but actually to look nice might be misplaced and based in guilt, but when you go down the hall to knock on Javier's bedroom door, you at least know for sure that you're doing your best to be respectful of another human. Just because you don't get along doesn't mean he deserved to have your soulmate status spat at him in anger when he heard it for the first time.
The knock goes unanswered. A silent refusal to even acknowledge your existence and he doesn’t even move around inside.
The silence stretches far too long, and you try again, knocking a little louder. Again, nothing. Utter nothingness is your only answer. "Javier?" You try, wondering if something in your tone might help. You're not angry today. Or, at least, you're trying very hard to suppress that reflex.
Still there’s no sound coming from the bedroom. A door down the hall opens and closes, but the sound is barely audible from this portion of the apartment.
"Javier?" Louder this time, and you knock again. More certain. More assertive. But consciously keeping any thread of anger out of it at all. Wondering if maybe that sound was him leaving the apartment, but it didn't sound like the front door to you. It sounded like the hall closet, and you take a peek down the hall and find that yes – Helena's door is open. She must have been getting a clean towel to shower with.
"Javier?" You try once more, and with no response you decide to try the doorknob. When it gives unexpectedly, you push the door open a crack and call his name one more time. Still getting no response, you bite the bullet and step into his room.
His room is large, the bed would have dwarfed a smaller space, but it fits the large room. Massive, it’s covered in a neat dark blue duvet and has the pillows neatly propped against the wooden rattan center of the headboard. Nothing is out of place in the room, like it is neat out of habit or compulsion which is ironic because his desk is always a mess.
"Oh...kay...?" Looking around provides you with absolutely no clues whatsoever as to what may have happened, until you take another step inside and catch a glimpse of a piece of paper on his nightstand.
While he had packed, Javi had decided that you were nosey enough to come into his room and had decided to write you a note. Leaving it somewhere you would find it if you did decide to snoop.
"The hell...?" You murmur aloud, seeing your name written neatly on the top line
“Went to Medellín. It was the reason I came home early and ruined your fun. Won’t be back for a few days so I’m sure you’ll be gone by then. Lock the door when you leave and have a nice life.” Javi had added on to the bottom of the note. “There’s money for Helena in the kitchen drawer. Give it to her for me.”
Apologizing this morning isn't going to happen. It's too little too late, and in the form of a gesture he clearly has no interest in. Sighing out, you pick up the note without touching anything else in his room and close the door behind you, then go retrieve the mentioned cash from his kitchen drawer. You know which one he means, you'd seen him add and subtract from the amount in the drawer a few times over the course of your stay here.
There’s two thousand dollars in the drawer. He had thought about giving it to her in person, but she always had a hard time accepting money from him. She wouldn’t have taken this money because she would have seen it as a goodbye. He knows that things have changed, their intimacy shifted into a different skin and he doesn’t want her to think that it’s because of what happened. That she’s lacking in some way. There’s a little note under the rubber band of the cash. “You deserve more than I could ever give you. Your visa is approved sweetheart. I’m sorry the cost was so high. I wish things were different. Javier”
"Shit..." You must read that note three times over, feeling the concern and the care in it, and how different it is from the one he left you. How cold – frigid – his regard for you is. And wondering if you missed something somewhere along the line.
Helena calls your name, stepping out of the bathroom again. “Are you okay?”
"I—um—" Stumbling over the answer, you have a feeling you look as lost as you feel when you cross the room to offer Helena the wad of cash and her note. "Javier had to go back to Medellín," you tell her, nearly choking on the words. "He left you a note."
Her look of confusion is cleared up when she sees the cash. Making her sigh as she reaches for it with an almost sad expression. She knows what it is and almost wants to refuse it. He knows now, although you don't look remotely happy. She reads the note, eyes wide and she starts to cry. "It— it was approved!" She chokes out. "I am leaving!"
“It looks that way.” Your head bobs slightly in a nod and you do your best to keep all of the emotions of the morning out of your voice and smile. “Do you know where you want to live when you get there?”
"I have family in Chicago." She murmurs softly, looking down at the note. "It—" She closes her eyes and swallows. "I can't believe that it happened. I told him that going to the party would show my willingness to get them information." It had been at a high price, but it was worth it since she could take her son and leave this place.
You freeze on the spot, eyes widening slightly and you try to remember how to swallow. How to breathe. “You…volunteered?”
She looks back up at you in confusion, tilting her head as she watches your expression. "Of course." She shakes her head. "Javier did not want us to go to Medellín to the party, but none of us could pass it up." She pauses. "You think he – that it is his fault?" She shakes her head again, understanding now why you might not like him. That would be a heavy sin to forgive. "No, I was – I fucked up. It is my fault that Gacha got suspicious. He is insane." She shivers slightly and closes her eyes, trying to block out the memories. "I thought I was going to die, to – then there was yelling and gunshots. The man who was – he was dead and Javi was there. Carrying me out of that room after he covered me up and telling me that it would alright." You had never pushed her to tell you what happened, but she would not let you think that Javier was anything but a hero in her eyes for saving her that night.
"But—" Your mind is spinning and you're trying your best to keep up with the thoughts swirling and trying to be heard over each other. Shouting over each other. Screaming at you to be heard and screaming about how utterly wrong you were. "But he told you what to do—?" You insist, still trying to wrap your head around it.
She wonders how you could know that. If Javier had confided in you about what had happened. You know that he had been more upset than he would show you, maybe he had been rambling and you had misheard him. "After I told him I would not stay home, he told me that he would do his best to protect us." She sighs softly, a part of her wishing she had listened to him. "Even before I got on the plane, he had asked me to reconsider. To think of my son." She smiles sadly. "I was thinking of him. That is the problem."
"So I've..." You swallow, hard, and feel your eyes widen all over again as water starts to push at the back of them. It's shame, this deep, sickening feeling in your gut. Shame and guilt. And you fucking deserve every second of it. "I've had it completely wrong?"
"Javi blames himself too." She admits. "He feels bad that he could not protect me." She hadn't been completely out of it some of the times that he had sat with her, confessed his guilt while thinking she couldn't hear him. "Your soulmate is a lot more emotional than he pretends to be." She smiles. "He has had to harden himself in order to do what must be done. How else can you survive a battle against monsters?"
"Shit..." Your stomach roils, flipping angrily and making you so sick you almost hunch over. "You're...you're right, honey. Of course you are. I just...excuse me." Putting all of the puzzle pieces together in your mind – or at least starting to – has you sprinting for the bathroom to empty your stomach.
She frowns after you, hearing you retch and following you into the bathroom. She can't do anything more than rub your back, but she owes you that after the care and comfort she has been given. "It's okay." She soothes you softly, wondering if there have been harsh words between you. If that was why there seemed to be such a heavy feeling to the apartment.
"I'm fine." A bold-faced lie, but the idea of being pitied or even taken care of after you accused your own fucking soulmate of hurting her just makes you even sicker. "Just hungover," you double down, as if you could make the lie into truth by sheer force of will.
"We drank a lot of whiskey." She hums, pursing her lips. "I will make you some coffee." Sensing you need a moment alone; she quickly disappears to start the coffee pot that is in Javi's kitchen.
It doesn't matter that you both know full well that the alcohol didn't do this to you. It doesn't matter that you did this to yourself in absolutely every way. As you lean over the toilet with your knees planted on the bathroom tile, all you can think about is the crestfallen, half-broken expression on Javier's face last night when you revealed that you were his soulmate in the middle of a spitting-mad argument.
Your soulmate is a lot more emotional than he pretends to be. Helena's voice rings in your ears. He has had to harden himself in order to do what must be done.
There is a folded piece of paper on the counter and Helena opens it, reading the note and sighing softly. Apparently things were not the best between the two of you, based on the terse tone. She wonders if she should call Javi, tell him that you are his soulmate. It might help.
The phone is nearby, and she knows he wouldn't mind a long-distance call, but she isn't sure where in Medellín he is. Her best guess would be the hotel where everyone was staying last weekend, but it would only be a guess.
Dialing the hotel, she asks for his room, pleasantly surprised when she is connected. Waiting to hear him pick up, the phone just rings and rings and rings. Making her sigh as she hangs the phone back on the hook and turns to see you walk into the kitchen.
"Sorry about that," you murmur, walking straight to the cupboard to get a glass for water. All the life has drained from your face and your eyes are downcast, making you look very sick all of a sudden.
"The coffee is brewing." She reaches out and strokes your arm. "We will have you feeling better in no time."
"I'm fine." Even repeating it sounds hollow, but you get a glass of water from the tap and lean back against the counter to slowly sip it with your eyes closed. What the fuck were you thinking? Chewing him a new asshole without all the facts? All but flat out accusing him of throwing her life and safety away? You're a fucking investigative journalist. You know better than to not get all the facts.
"You will be." She promises, opening the fridge and pulling out some of the food that had been left from yesterday. "We will make sure of it."
"You don't have to do that," you protest, the weakness in your voice obvious. "Take care of me, I mean."
The look that she shoots you is reproachful, as if you were a naughty child. "And you did not have to take care of me." She reminds you. "We are friends, friends take care of each other."
What you mean is that you don’t feel deserving of her care, but saying that out loud will only open a conversation as to why and you would rather avoid that if you can. “Tell me about your family,” you prompt instead. “The ones in Chicago.”
"Cousins." You obviously want to change the subject and she is willing to do that. "My mother's sister married an American and moved to Chicago when we were children."
“So you’ll have a whole extended family to be with. To raise your son with.” It is nothing less than everything she deserves, to have family and a home and secure happiness waiting for her on the other end of this hellish tunnel. “That’s wonderful.”
"Hopefully so." Getting out of Colombia will be good for her, although she hates that she will have to leave her friends, you and Javi, behind when she leaves.
“I’ll have to come out and see you sometime. Once I’m home again,” you murmur as if you’re reading her thoughts. “Chicago is just a few hours on a plane from where I live.”
"That would be good." She smiles softly, although she doesn't really expect it. No one really would want to socialize with a former prostitute that you used to sleep with. "That would be nice."
“Chicago is cold.” You wonder if she has any idea. If she has talked to her aunt or her cousins much. “But the food is great and there is a lot to do. You’ll be busy before you know it.”
"My cousin said she could help me get a job." She doesn't want to keep sleeping with people for money, doesn't know if she could anymore. She wants a better life for her son and is determined to give it to him. "It is good that I have been able to work on my English with you and Javi."
“We can switch to English whenever you want.” She won’t be here much longer. You understand that, but you want to do whatever you can to help. “Is there a family business or something like that? That you’ll be able to work in?”
"They have a restaurant." She smiles. "Our food is pretty popular in Chicago apparently."
“That’s wonderful.” No one deserves for things to finally take an upturn more than Helena does. She’s very literally been through hell and all you can hope now is that she gets to leave it all behind her. “It will be a fresh start. You deserve it, honey.”
The coffee maker beeps and she turns towards the pot. "There we go." She smiles. "I will miss fresh coffee beans though." She jokes. "But not that much."
“I promise you can get good coffee in Chicago,” you assure her, appreciating that she can have a sense of humor about absolutely anything at all.
"Yeah." She hums and gives you a reassuring look. "It's more important that my son is proud of me." She admits. "More important than coffee that he has me."
“It’s going to be a good change.” For so many reasons. For almost every reason, you hope. And the thought that comes to you next almost chokes you with its irony. “Maybe your soulmate is waiting for you up there? Who knows.”
"Only if he's as good as yours is." She turns back to the cabinet to grab two coffee mugs, not seeing how your face falls.
“I fucked it up.” You murmur, letting the words out into the morning air. Releasing the feeling of failure from your stomach before it can make you sick again.
"Javier is under a lot of stress." She dismisses your claim and turns back to hand you a cup of the coffee. "He probably felt ambushed when he was told." She can admit that they didn't handle this the right way, but there was no going back now. She's sure that whatever little spat you had was completely Javi not taking the news well. "I am going to get dressed." She leans in and kisses your cheek. "Don't be jealous of the girls in Medellín too much. He will be back and fucking you soon enough."
Even though you highly doubted his return would bring anything more than icy stares and cutting words at most, you don’t say so as Helena sashays out of the room with a bounce in her step that you haven’t seen in weeks. Her good news has finally arrived. She’s going to to get out — of this lifestyle and this place — and she deserves to be happy about it.
But you? You have fucked it up. And you’re not sure what to do about it now.
******
Three days later, Javi opens the door to his apartment. Listening for a moment and he's oddly deflated when he doesn't hear anything. There is a stillness that can only be attributed to abandonment hanging in the air. Everything is neat as a pin, even the ashtray on the coffee table has been cleaned out, the old afghan throw on the back of the sofa straight. You had obviously made sure to leave his apartment better than you had found it and he's a little annoyed at himself, wondering if you had felt anything but relief when you realized he was gone. Sighing to himself, he drops his bag and kicks the door shut. The trip had been successful, but his stomach still churns when he recalls the look on your face, the loathing in your eyes when you spit at him. Fuck. You're gone like he had thought you would be, but for some reason, he's unhappy about that too.
You had left like he asked you to. Gone back to your apartment. Broken up with Alex in person without asking him about any ulterior motives because honestly you didn’t want to know. And then you’d sat with Inez in your living room and cried your eyes out as you explained everything that had happened. Every angry word and hateful look. Every slammed door. By the end of it you’d given yourself a migraine with the tears and been grateful to simply go to bed, and for the very first time you were sorry to be in your own bed rather than in Javier’s apartment.
Staring at the phone, Javi's pissed at himself. He memorized that fucking number. Your pager number. He's picked up the phone six different times to page you but each time he had slammed the phone down and picked up a cigarette to take a drag from it. Reminding himself that you had nothing to say to him, you would probably prefer that he not even exist, but he had taken a closer look at your marks every fucking time he was undressed and hates how he wonders how they look on your body.
You had decided to avoid the embassy like the plague, and kept that resolve for an entire week before you finally had to go in to collect some quotes and verify information for your latest article. The small spotlight on Helena that she had consented to used only her alias to avoid anyone identifying her from the interview once she arrived in the States, and your editor had even promised to pay her more than originally agreed upon in a good will gesture that certainly wouldn't hurt as she got on her feet in Chicago very soon. Your own fears of running into Alex or Javier had to be put aside so you could do your job, especially when doing your job meant helping your friend.
"Fuck." Javi picks up his coffee cup for the third time, forgetting again that it was empty and glaring at the bottom of the mug.
"It won't refill itself." Steve teases, making him cut his eyes over at the other man.
Murphy had been vastly amused by the fact that Javi's mood hadn't improved, even suggesting that he go see one of the girls, but he couldn't even do that. There is this fucking nagging sense of guilt that curdles in his stomach when he even thinks about Vanessa or Freckles. He had stopped by to see Helena and to give her the paperwork he had gotten from Colleen, but nothing else had happened and he had practically fled when she brought up your name. He couldn't even fuck away his stress now that he knows who his soulmate is and that pisses him off even more. Flipping Murphy a middle finger, he shoves back from his desk to walk to the break room coffee pot.
The hallways of the embassy are typically busy, and the breakroom on this floor is far enough away that he has time to stew on his way there. Stewing so much that he apparently stops looking where he's going, leading him to walk smack into a woman's shoulder as she began to round the corner, sending hot coffee and paperwork scattering in multiple directions with the sound of a surprised yelp.
"Fuck, I'm—" His eyes meet yours and the apology dies on his lips. Shocked to literally run into you in the halls of the embassy. Frowning slightly as he glances down to make sure that he didn't spill the drink on you. "Shit." He hisses, bending down to start gathering up your now stained paperwork."
"I'm sorry." The words spring instantly from your lips on seeing him, regardless of the fact that you're certain he doesn't want to hear a word you have to say. Even if he only accepts an apology for this moment of clumsiness, you would still consider it a small win amongst all of the chaos surrounding knowing each other.
"My fault." He grunts, not looking up although he could easily look up your skirt. He swallows harshly and jumbles the papers together even though they are all out of order now and stands as he tries to straighten them even more.
"No." You shake your head, taking the papers from his hands after you tug your blouse back into place, and try not to think too hard about the small touch of your hands when you do. "I'm entirely at fault out of the two of us."
Javi shifts to pick up his cup and glances down at it's now empty vessel. "Yeah, well, we'll agree to disagree again." He rocks his jaw to the side and quickly glances up at you before he's looking down the hall. "Better go get more coffee. Sorry again." Needing to get away from you before he can do something stupid.
Knowing you deserve to be brushed off doesn't necessarily make it hurt less, and the wobble of your chin as he hurries away without so much as a spared glance in your direction makes you wish you had never set foot in this godforsaken embassy today.
"Shit, shit, shit." Javi bypasses the break room, the idea of coffee nearly nauseating. Instead he pushes into the men's bathroom, his stomach twisting from the brief run in with you and he feels like he's drowning.
"Careful there, Peña." A tall man in a poorly cut suit shifts to the side to narrowly avoid being knocked over as he dries his hands at the sink. "Might get the grease from your hair on me and I don't think the DEA pays well enough for dry cleaning bills based on what you and Murphy wear on a daily basis."
Fuck, as if his day couldn't get any worse. The ringing in his ears fades from the pure annoyance but he would be damned if he would thank this CIA fuck for that. "What the fuck are you doing haunting the halls of the embassy?" He snorts. "Other than fucking annoying people."
"Some of us actually do our work." Alex replies haughtily. He turns away from Peña with a scoff to straighten his tie in the mirror. "And in an office bigger than a broom closet, to boot."
"Really?" Javi smirks, resisting the urge to slam that pretty face into the mirror and break his nose. It has nothing to do with the fact that you were fucking this prick. Not at all. "Didn't realize the CIA was headquartered in La Dispensaria."
Alex's eyebrow barely twitches at the mention of the club, but he turns to lean back against the sink bay and crosses his arms over his chest condescendingly. "What would you know about it?" He asks, tone pitched down into disapproval that runs very near to an accusation.
"Plenty." He's hit a nerve and he knows it. Javier glances towards the door as if he expected you to be standing there. "Pretty clever, climbing into bed with the journalist." He compliments, although there's nothing clever about it in his mind. He used you. "Making sure you could get in and out of the place without anyone looking too closely."
"Not the most pleasant assignment, but someone had to bite the bullet." He shakes his head at that and tosses the wadded up paper towel in his hands toward the trash bin. "No one picks a fat chick, but at least she wasn't a prude." He smirks at Peña, dusting himself off performatively once more before he pushes off from the sinks to head to the door. "Maybe I'll make another visit. Even whales suck cock."
On a normal day, Javier has restraint. He can trade insults and not jump. It's not a normal day and the conversation is about someone that is a lot closer to him than this fucking prick could ever imagine. Even if you don't like him, even if you hate him, you are his soulmate and he would never let that kind of insult ride. The fucker is halfway out the door when Javi hits him with his lowered shoulder, both of them careening into the hallway and crashing to the floor. "Fucker!" Javi hiss, rolling him over and punching him in that fucking smart ass, insulting mouth. He's furious and right now, he's going to take out all his frustration on this slimy dickhead.
They crash into the open hallway with such a suddenness and literally violent force that it sends a few typists scattering. A few nearby Milgroup jarheads take an interest, of course, as do some of the FBI suits, and the crowd that gathers in the hall outside the men’s bathroom soon looks far more like a high school brawl than anything else.
Sets of eyes are easily attracted to a group this big, though, and it takes only a matter of a minute before you become aware of it too. Doing your best to peek over shoulders and around heads, you curse under your breath when you finally get a look at who is fighting. “Let me through,” you insist, nudging your way between a pair of men in fatigues on one side and two chattering women in heels and suits on the other.
“Let me through!” You rumble the second time, and find that you make it to the front of the group that much easier with anger in your voice.
Your ex-boyfriend and your soulmate. On the floor. In a fistfight. “What the absolute fuck is going on?” You huff at them before you can stop yourself.
Javi hisses when Alex's fist crashes into his jaw, hitting him harder than he had expected the pussy to hit, but he's shaking it off and retaliating. Lunging at him again and jabbing him in the kidneys several times before he pulls back and punches him in the head again. "Piece of shit!" He hears people talking, thinks he even hears your voice, but he doesn't stop. Too busy venting all his frustration out into this fight.
“Stop!” Whatever has caused this fight, you are acutely aware of the fact that you’re probably more in the middle of it than anyone else present, and shove past the crowd fully to try to drag Javier off of Alex. Smaller and faster despite being broad in his own right, Javier is clearly on the literal top of this fight regardless of who started it. The fact that you want to punch Alex for your own reasons is something you fully put aside for now as you put yourself bodily between the two men. “Javi, stop!”
The men that are watching the fight on the edges of the crowd are enjoying themselves, some of them rooting for Javi, some of the rooting for Alex. They are also exercising caution. It's never safe to grab a man who is the middle of a fight. Too easy to end up taking a hit themselves. Javi feels someone grabbing at his shoulders and he whips around the hit the bastard. Only stopping himself in horror when he sees your eyes widen and you flinch away to protect yourself from the blow. Freezing when he realizing that he had almost hit you. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out before the loud and furious voice of the Ambassador rings out from behind the crowd. "What the fuck is going on here?"
The assembled crowd scatters, all of them wanting to keep their jobs fully in tact and not be implicated in whatever they were just witnessing. The only people who don’t flee are Alex — laid out on the floor and groaning pitifully about his face — and you and Javier, who stand side by side with equal confusion and concern in your eyes.
"Peña." Even though she is a solid five-foot one inch tall, Noonan doesn't suffer fools lightly. Her face filled with fury, she takes in the scene and almost immediately determines you are the cause of the issue. "Why is that every fucking problem I have in this place, you are at the center of it?" She snarls before she looks over at you. "Do you work here?" She demands.
“No ma’am,” you answer honestly. Though your work does take you in and out of the embassy often, you don’t actually work there. Right now you’re just standing there with fear in your eyes and a lump in your throat, wishing you could reach for Javier and knowing you would be deservedly rejected if you tried.
She looks back at Javier. “Are you both fucking her?” She demands, wanting to know why you didn’t scurry off like the rest of them.
“Neither of them is and what the hell does that matter?” You spit back at the ambassador, finally seeing for the first time what your friends meant when they told you over and over how alike you and Javier could be.
"If you aren't involved, then get the hell out of my Embassy." Noonan hisses, narrowing her eyes at the two men on the floor. "Agent Peña, Agent Harris, get your asses off the floor and into my office, now." She turns on her heel and marches back towards her office, giving them no chance to argue.
“I’ll wait outside,” you murmur to Javier, wondering if he even cares. But something in the hollow of your chest screams at you to wait. To talk to him.
"Go home." He doesn't look at you, afraid that he will punch Alex again if he looks at your pretty face. You don't deserve the comments that fucker made. "I'm going to get my ass chewed for a while."
Before you can even ask him if he’s sure, Javier stalks off after the ambassador and Alex pulls himself up onto his feet with nothing but a snarl aimed in your direction.
Wait for an hour, you bargain with yourself, worried that Javier might be about to lose his badge over something that vaguely concerns you. If he does, you know for certain he’ll never so much as speak to you again. And you wouldn’t blame him. Just an hour and then go home. There’s nothing you can do here that will help.
His jaw aches but his fist hurts like bitch as he listens to Noonan rake his ass over the coals. His eyes cut over to where the CIA agent is slumped in his chair, craddling his cheek and it gives him an enormous sense of satisfaction to see that his left eye is already swollen shut. "You're fucking suspended for the next three days." That makes him whip his head back towards the ambassador and he leans forward. "Ma'am, we are in the middle of an important sting." He stresses, not wanting to be taken off the case for even an hour. "We will get word any second now."
“And you can read Murphy’s report when it’s over.” She informs him tersely. “Go home, Peña. If I even get a whiff of you around here before Friday, it’ll be your ass.”
He clenches his jaw, knowing there is no point in arguing with her. He's already listened to her rail at him for nearly an hour and half. Neither man would tell her why they were fighting. He stands and shoots Alex a hot glare before he walks out of the ambassador's office. He needs a fucking drink.
******
“I don’t know what to do.” Your voice echoes in the empty stairwell, just you and Chi-Chi sitting on the top step together with her head in your lap as you stroke her fur and tell her what happened at the embassy today. Inez is out with your landlady, driving her to the beauty parlor for her weekly appointment, so you can’t even go have a drink with your friend and try to figure out what step comes next. All you can do is pet Chi-Chi and hope against hope that something might get resolved soon. Though you doubt it.
******
"You look like shit." Javi rolls his eyes, leaning back against the half wall that the table is pressed against and blows out the cigarette smoke as Horatio pulls out the chair opposite him and sits down. "You should see the other guy." Javi huffs, smirking slightly before he frowns again in pain and takes a sip of his whiskey.
“Got what he deserved?” Carillo asks, but he already knows the answer. Javier Peña doesn’t get into fist fights. Not usually. Which means this one had a reason.
"Yeah." He had to take a couple of aspirin, and he could probably use to some ice on his hand, but he's using the whiskey to dull the pain. "What are you doing here?"
“Waiting for a call.” Carillo tilts his head, studying the agent in front of him. “You didn’t forget. Did Murphy not tell you?”
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Javier shakes his head slightly, but it hurts. "Just got suspended for the next three days."
“Shit.” Both men shake their heads now, and Carillo leans back in his seat in dismay. “We timed the raid for tonight. Murphy’s just waiting to call it in when the time is right.”
Javi leans back and nods. There's no location set obviously. He closes his eyes and lifts his glass to his lips again. He's going to miss out on the fruits of his labor and there's not a goddamn thing he can do about it.
“It’s a shame.” Carillo comments, shaking his head. “You’ve worked too hard in this. Just hope whatever ass-kicking you gave out was worth it.”
He shrugs slightly, not willing to talk about it with the man who has been with his soulmate since he was a child. "Don't regret it." Is all he's willing to say.
Horatio nods, merely making a sound of assent before the two men sink into silence and sip their drinks in relative peace. No one ever accused Horatio Carillo of being chatty, and his time spent with Agent Peña is always proof of that.
He knows that you have to at least think that the fight was over you. Still, he feels guilty about how fucking close he came to hitting you. Even if it would have been an accident, he knows you would never forgive him for that, even if you already hate him. Javi sighs.
He has no way of knowing that you’re currently venting your worries and frustrations to an overlarge guard dog. No way of knowing that you stayed at the embassy a full half hour later than you promised yourself you would and he only missed seeing you sitting outside on the steps by a bare five minutes.
The phone on the table between them rings and Javi eyes it jealously. Irritated that he won't be able to go along on the operation. He listens in when Carillo answers, although he can't quite hear what is being said but it's obvious that it's Steve on the other end. He can tell that it's hillbilly English rather than Spanish.
When Carillo hangs up, he’s already standing and slipping back into his jacket. “Time to go,” he tells Peña needlessly. “Don’t get your badge taken tonight,” he warns, leaning over the table. “Stay away from La Dispensaria, okay?”
"Yeah." He sighs and drowns the rest of his drink with a huff and cutting his eyes when he realizes that he got left with the bill for the other man's drink. The name doesn't register with him until he is motioning for another drink. "Fuck!"
There’s a line for the phone at the bar — three separate people who all apparently need to make the most important calls of their lives from this very place and refuse to move, making Javier furious when no one will let him in just to make a fast and vital phone call.
"Goddamnit." Javi hisses, he had already run out of the bar to see if he could catch Carillo but the fucker was already gone. "Hurry up." He growls, moving back to the bar and demanding to use their phone.
The girl behind the bar saunters up with the house phone in hand, smokey eyes and full lips on display. “Need to make a call, handsome?”
"Yes." He doesn't flirt but he reaches for the phone. "It's important."
“Fine.” He doesn’t seem like he’s in the mood to play, which makes her frown, but she still sets the phone down on the bar. “Tip your bartender,” she singsongs, walking away.
The number that he has memorized is punched in hastily, listening to the message and he remembers that he doesn't know the fucking number to the bar. "Hey!" He shouts down the bar. "What’s the number here?"
The bartender slings the ten-digit number back at him carelessly, annoyed that her attempt at flirting didn't get anywhere. When the message asks for a call back number, Javi punches it in and adds #911 to the end of the message that will flash across the beeper’s face.
He sits and frets for a whole three minutes before the bar's phone rings, staring at it like it's offended him until the telephone starts to clatter to life. The first ring barely finishes before he is snatching it up and hissing your name down the line. Needing to make sure that it's you before he says anything else.
"Javier?"
You sound bewildered but he doesn't let you say anything else. "Get out of your apartment. Get out now!" He growls, his heart pounding when you start to protest.
"What is goi—"
"There is a raid team coming right now, get out!" He shouts.
"Shit!" You slam down the receiver, shove your beeper back in your pocket, and sprint to your front door. Purse, leather jacket, keys, and you're locking the door behind you only to come face to face with Chi-Chi on the stair landing. Your landlady went to see her son and grandkids tonight so she isn't home, and thank fuck you encouraged Inez to go on her date tonight after dropping off your sweet landlady, instead of staying home with your sorry ass. "Come on, sweet girl," you say to Chi-Chi, unwrapping her leash from the top of the stair rail and attaching it to her collar. "I'm gonna take you to meet a new friend."
The only place you can think to go is to Javier's apartment. He'll be at the raid, but at least it's far enough away from your building to be safe.
Javi presses his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose. Needing to go to that fucking club but he knows he can't. He'll just have to call Steve. Picking up the phone again, he dials his partner's cell phone number and prays that he picks up the goddamn thing.
"Murphy." Steve has picked up his SAT phone blindly as he works to get himself ready for the impending raid. He's given the time and the location and now it's go time.
Javi sighs in relief and he says your name. "That reporter." He reminds him. "She lives in that fucking building. Don't let her get killed by a trigger happy fucker." He can't tell him right now that you are his soulmate. It'll distract the man. "I told her to get out. But keep an eye out for her."
"Copy that." Steve barks down the phone. He's not in the mood to ask questions or alter his plans, but he knows the person to look out for. "Stay away, Peña," he warns, a little less perfunctorily. "We've got this covered and I need you to not lose your badge."
The call ends abruptly and he stares at the phone for a second. "Goddamnit." He sighs, putting the receiver in the cradle and standing up, fishing in his pocket for some money. "Thanks." He tosses money down on the bar, enough for the tab and generous tip for letting him use the phone before he walks out. The only thing he can do now is go home and wait for a fucking phone call.
______
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popiellart · 9 months ago
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Tell us ur DUNC thoughts pal! <3
what can I even say about DUNC other than i fucking love it!!! i've been a shameless dick rider for denis villeneuve ever since Sicario, and I went to the cinema to see DUNC and DUNC 2 which. one thing about me is i hate cinemas. i didn't even go to the cinema for scorsese or yorgo lanthimos or top gun 2 so you know it's serious
the visuals are straight up incredible, the casting is peak, the material is handled with a lot of what feels like genuine love and passion, the lady going ham on the arabic yodeling on the OST is a queen, and in general wrt dune fans watching DUNC, I imagine that's how people who like Tolkien felt when Peter Jackson's LOTR came out
i can't wait for the conflict between the matriarchal eugenicists with milking machines and the patriarchal eugenicists with breeding tanks
which is what the books are really about. oh, and i guess the galactic jihad also happens, so that's fun
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unvendaval · 2 years ago
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yo necesito amar a quien me quiera de verdad . tal vez sea involuntario , como un espasmo sicario ... un vendaval .
independent & selective multimuse , featuring muses from film , television , musicals & my own imagination . est . 2023 , loved by pantu .
con un mezcal en la mano , recuerdo todos esos labios ; evocando algún amor , fantaseando una pasión ... quiero sentir .
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lockefanfic · 2 years ago
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The director of the last movie you watched must make a film with the last K-pop artist/group whose song you listened to. What’s the plot and will it be a success?
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I happened to watch Sicario recently because it was on my flight's entertainment system and I was bored and it's one of my favorite movies, so I imagine my conversation with Mr. Villeneuve will go something like:
"Hi Mr. Villeneuve. Big fan. So I have this idea about a corporate action espionage movie, and it involves this k-pop group called TWICE - maybe you've heard of them. Anyway, there's this dude - let's call him, uh, Brocke, and it starts out as just normal boring corporate espionage stuff but competing companies and international law enforcement and stolen data and stuff happens and also we'll probably need a three movie trilogy at least.
...Also there will be messy relationship dynamics and a ton of sexy times. Also yes, I will play the lead male role, and yes, I do happen to have a script!"
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