#HE WALKED OUT TO THE NARCOS THEME SONG!!!

[darlingjmiller]

Pedro Pascal presenting Best Supporting Actor in a Drama Series

“Kieran Culkin beat the shit of me”

[girlboybug]

writing request for a smut fic with established relationship with javi x reader? dialogue prompt: javi: “he looked at you funny” reader: “i didn’t know you were the jealous type..”

OOO i like this muahaha >:) i hope you enjoy hehe, thank u for requesting!! <3

art deco

"shining like gunmetal, cold and unsure. baby you're so ghetto, you're lookin' to score."

or the one where jealousy happens to be a good look on javi.

what’s playing 🎧 : art deco by lana del rey

content warnings : SMUT, jealous!javi, blowjobs, face fucking, car sex, semi public sex (?), unprotected sex (extremely unwise w javi idk wtf he got goin on down there), creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, themes of slut shaming, threats of exhibitionism, threats of restraints e.g cuffs, brat tamer!javi (been dying to write that)

trigger warnings : mentions/threats of gun usage, alcohol, both reader and javier are tipsy at best, if there is anything i missed pls lmk!

word count : 4k

a/n : im pulling SO MUCH out my ass w this bc i havent finished narcos and only rlly pay attention when pedro or boyd is on screen and even tho im half mexican my ass cannot speak spanish for the life of me teehee sorry yall

you’re a bad actor. 

you’re also bad at lying and honestly, just generally bad at the things javier happens to be especially good at. 

but that’s okay, javier likes you like that. it’s refreshing, endearing, to be with someone who hasn’t gotten good at lying or pretending to be someone they’re not. and actually, he’s currently watching you fail at that right now. 

you’re at the bar, swirling around your drink that he bought for you, pretending to not notice the way he’s eyeing you from across the club. he thinks it's cute how you keep stealing glances at him, giggling to yourself whenever he catches you.

you two do this little song and dance every now and then, it keeps things exciting and fun, and you never have complaints about it. 

you pretend to be the single, bored girl sitting alone at the bar, and javier just so happens to swoop in, introducing himself as the man who’s been ordering drinks for you all night, ready to charm you into his bed for the night. it’s stupid when you say it out loud, but the way he fucks you when you do this little act makes it seem like the best goddamn idea he’s ever come up with.

it’s harmless fun between a couple, and the tension you two create throughout the night is always a recipe for mind blowing sex. however, it seems things are going a bit off script tonight. 

a man invites himself to the empty barstool beside you that was reserved for javier, but he’s oblivious to the little game you’re playing right now. “hi there,” he says, grinning, and you try your best to hold back a long sigh while you greet him back politely. 

javier’s hand tightens around the beer he’s got, wishing the neck of the bottle belonged to the man staring you down. he decides he’ll keep watch for awhile, he trusts you, and wants to see how this’ll play out, despite his patience already wearing dangerously thin.

“can i buy you another drink?” he asks, motioning towards the dwindling liquid in your glass. its not a difficult question, but the answer isn’t coming to you like it should be. 

you are playing the role of a single woman tonight, and you won’t let anything go further with this guy than receiving a free drink. 

eh. why not? 

“yeah, sure, thank you.” you smile back, and he hurriedly calls over the bartender, asking for two glasses of whatever it is you ordered. javier shifts in his seat, his jaw coming down harder than it was just a moment ago as he watches you share a drink with someone that isn’t him. 

javier follows his wandering eyes, how they trail up and down your figure, making it obvious he’s wondering what you’ve got on underneath.

javier wants to walk up to him to tell him how he knows what you’ve got under that dress, because he picked it out. 

god, this night fuckin’ sucks so far. 

“i noticed you for awhile now, what’re you doin’ here all alone?” he asks, and you get a little nervous with the way he gets closer to you. “i’m just waiting for my boyfriend to show up.” you answer, deciding the single woman role didn’t feel as fun anymore. 

“ahh, i see.” he replies, and you expect him to scoot farther from you, or better yet, leave. but much to your dismay, he stays. 

“it’s just,” he starts, and you glance down at your shoes, saying a silent prayer for him to get on with what he’s got to say before he leaves you alone for good. 

“you’ve been here for awhile now, you sure he’s comin’ honey?” he questions you, faux concern in his voice and you close your eyes for a moment to hide the way they roll at him.

“yeah, i’m sure.” you reply curtly. “how about i keep you some company while you wait for him then, how’s that sound?” he gets closer than you would’ve liked, boldly resting his arm around your shoulders, and yep, that’ll do it. 

javier’s beer clatters down onto his table as he shoots up from his seat, stalking over to you. he’s quick to join you, standing tall behind your seated figure, his strong chest a familiar surface against your back. 

“uh who’re you–” 

“her boyfriend.” he answers, eyes lowered testingly, practically itching for him to give him a reason to swing. “hi baby,” you beam, turning around and craning your neck up to give him a kiss. he leans down, holding your chin while he kisses you. 

with your lips still connected, he stares at the scoffing man that just sits and watches. 

“yeah well i wasn’t the one who kept her waiting all night so why don’t you get lost? we were havin’ a conversation, weren’t we sweetheart?” he looks at you as if you’d actually agree, and you open your mouth to defend javier, but he doesn’t need you to, he’s more than eager to put this guy back in his place. 

he steps away from behind your back, moving right in front of you now, leaning in close to the man. he reaches around to his lower back, sliding his gun to the side of his waist before he’s got it in his clutch, pressing it to the man’s ribs.

“you have 3 seconds to get the fuck out my face before i stop being so polite.” he whispers in his ear, and the man stiffens with immediate fear once he registers what’s being pointed at him. 

he swivels out of the stool, hastily hopping out to make his way out the club all together. javier turns back to you once he’s out of his field of vision, expecting a profuse thank you javi, but he gets quite the opposite. 

“what the hell was that?” you question, sounding angry, and uh oh, you saw that. 

“baby,” he starts off but you just huff, climbing off the stool. “that was way too far,” you point at him and he sighs, holding your arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to settle your irritation down. 

“but he was making you uncomfortable, and you didn’t see the way he was looking at you–” 

“and what way was he looking at me for you to pull a gun out on him?” you whisper yell and he starts to join you in your frustration. 

“he looked at you…funny, like he was just thinking about fucking you the entire time.” he sounds upset that he even has to explain himself to you about this, and you catch it, deciding to throw it back at him when you turn on your heel to leave. 

he growls with annoyance as he follows you out the club, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn back and look at him.

you exhale sharply, looking up at him, switching your weight onto your left foot. “i knew you could be a little…impulsive sometimes but jesus jav, i didn’t realize you were the jealous type that would do something so…stupid.”

his annoyance is fast to turn into a hard glare, and you see the sudden shift, instantly feeling regretful. he purses his lips to the side, laughing dryly. “stupid huh?” he clicks his tongue and you shake your head, walking closer to him now.

“javi, i’m sorry,” you try to remedy the mess of this situation, but unlucky for you, what little patience he was holding onto is now gone. 

he grabs the hand of yours that’s reaching towards his jaw, he isn’t in the mood for it. he pulls you along by your wrist to the parking lot. 

“yeah, you’re about to be baby,” he mutters, and your heart picks up, your heel clad feet in turn picking up speed to keep up with him. 

he ushers you into his backseat, slamming the door behind you once you’re both in. he tugs you into his lap, your legs on either side of him, your knees making contact with the cold vinyl. his hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it hard.

you gasp a little, arching into his chest. the second you move in closer, his lips are on your’s. it’s not gentle, it’s not slow paced, and it’s not soft, no, that’s for when you’re good. and you’ve been anything but. 

you’re grinding in his lap, his growing bulge feels perfect right up against your dampening panty clad cunt, too perfect that you can’t stop yourself. you’re moaning in his mouth, struggling to keep up the pace and intensity in the way his lips are moving with your’s. 

he tastes like beer and cigarettes, smells like it too, with traces of his cologne that you love. he’s like paradise incarnate and you want to live in him forever. 

when he pulls away you're left panting in his hold, lips parted, brushing against each other, stealing the other person’s breaths. “you know,” he sighs lowly, his words trailing up your spine, leaving shivers in their wake. 

“just because i let you pretend you’re single for the night doesn’t mean you actually are,” he says, and he sounds serious, but there’s something hidden in his air, something challenging, like he wants you to argue just so he can put you right back where you belong. 

you nod heavily like he speaks words of righteousness, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i know javi, i know,” you pepper his face in kisses, but he remains still, outwardly unphased.

“guess you just got too excited at the thought of bein’ a slut huh?” he breathes out flicking a brow at you, keeping you in close when you try to inch away from him at his accusations. 

“i’m not a slut–” he unfolds your offended arms, hands leaving your wrists to hold your thighs that rest on either side of his lap. “no baby it’s alright, s’not a totally bad thing. i like sluts. they let you do whatever you want to ‘em,” he grips your thighs, forcefully sliding you off his lap and letting you land down on your knees before him. you gasp, holding onto his legs for steadiness. 

“and they let you all while tryin’ to convince you they aren’t sluts. isn’t that funny? he chuckles, caressing your cheek, peering down at you while he does so. 

“javi,” you say, you don’t know what to say next, the only certainty that remains is that his name never sounds wrong coming from you. 

“if you wanna be a slut so bad then go ahead, i won’t stop you.” he shrugs, leaning back into the seat, arms stretched out beside him. you swallow away your stuttering, running your hands up and down your thighs. “what do you want me to do?” you ask smally, looking up at him from under your lashes. 

he readjusts, lifting his hips in the air, settling back down closer to you. he tilts his head, eyes flickering from his crotch back to your gaze, “what sluts do best baby.” he says under a gravelly breath. your thighs close just a little tighter at that, feeling eager to oblige to his insinuations. 

you unzip his levi’s, unbuttoning them before you’re pulling him from out his boxers, throat getting tight at the way he pulses in your hands. precum is already beading at his tip, and you lean forward, flicking your tongue over it. he hisses quietly, a hand coming behind your neck. 

your lips envelope the tip, shutting your eyes when you trail down until you can’t take any more of him down your throat. he groans, throwing his head back, bucking his hips into your mouth. you gag around him, hand trembling while you try to jerk off what you can’t fit into your mouth. 

he rolls his head forward, holding you by the back of your head, starting to thrust further in, chuckling to himself at the way you gag. he lets you slide off him, jerking his slick cock off while you catch your breath. 

you’re staring at each other in the thick air, the night breeze sneaking in from the cracked windows, making your nipples perk from behind your lacy bra. 

the moon glimmers through the side window facing javier, and it panels his cheekbone, across his jaw and down his chin, trickling over the curve of his collarbones. 

he looks so beautiful like this, sitting tall in front of you, looking at you like he could tear you apart with one hand, jaw clenching when your thumb slides over the head of his cock. 

the way he’s looking at you elicits a reaction from your body before your mind can reach it. you lean back down, taking him deeper into your mouth. 

you don’t mind the way he keeps your head still, using your mouth the way he likes. 

he fucks your mouth like he wants to prove a point, and at this moment he doesn’t even know what the point is, he hardly even remembers where he’s currently at, the only thing that makes sense is how fucking good you’re taking him down your throat. 

you’re being so good, so perfectly compliant for him, and what’s fueling you is the tingles exploding between your thighs at the way he’s using you. 

the grunting utterances of your name in his spewing breaths adds propellent to the roaring fire building in your lower tummy. 

his groans get a little airier, picking up in quantity, coming out one after the other, fucking your mouth so deep your nose brushes against the brown curls sitting just above his cock. “look at me,” he instructs through gritted teeth, and you listen, blinking away your teary eyes to look up at him. 

he sends one, two, three, hard thrusts into your mouth before he pulls out, resting the tip over your lips. he pants to himself, shutting his eyes closed while you take this time to do the same and catch your own breath. “what’s wrong?” you sound a little rasped, and he can’t fight the smug look on his face at your voice. 

“as much as i’d like to let you continue, i got better things planned baby,” he chuckles breathlessly, pulling you back up into his lap. 

he pushes your dress up, exhaling when he sees how wet you are in the panties he picked out for you. “javi, i didn’t bring any condoms, do you have one?” you press your hands to his chest, momentarily halting him, and he looks at you, scoffing quietly. 

“huh. sluts don’t usually care about that kinda thing.” he rubs the head of his cock over your clothed clit, watching your lowered eyes fully shut, a moan slipping out at his ministrations, proving him right. “s’not gonna fit like this,” your whimper when he moves your panties to the side, flicking himself up and down your folds. “it will baby, i’ll make it fit.” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

you rarely ever got on top, he was always very adamant about taking care of you, whether that means you’re on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders or you with your wrists being hoisted by his tight grip while he fucks you senseless.

the constant is, he’s always on top. 

he’s big, no matter the position he’s got you in, it’s always a stretch he has to ease you into. which is why you’re typically reluctant to get on top, but right now he isn’t asking, he’s telling. 

“javi, s’not gonna go in like this,” you whimper nervously, curling into his chest. head on his shoulder. he rolls his eyes, fingers gliding right over your clit to shut you up. and it works, naturally, he chuckles. 

your breath gets faster when he swirls over your clit with his fingers, squirming around in his lap. he holds himself from the base of his cock, circling over your fluttering hole. your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the back of his hair. 

he starts crowning into you, pushing in the fat head of his cock, pausing the breath in the middle of your throat. it rumbles out as a pained moan when he continues pushing in. “god javi,” you whine, legs on either side of him flexing with nerves at the intrusion. 

“doin’ all the work for you baby, jus’ take it for me,” he mutters in your ear, his mustache tickling your jaw while he rubs your clit to ease you into it.

“actin’ like i haven’t fucked this pussy before, know you can handle it, sè una niña grande para mí,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, and you melt, nodding desperately. “i am,” you mumble, bracing yourself for when he bottoms out inside you. he thrusts upward, holding you by the fat your ass, pulling you down onto him. 

the air is knocked out your lungs, and all you can do is hold on to his leather clad shoulders for dear life. your hips start moving in sync, rolling into each other, and you feel insane, it feels so good, you start thinking maybe you’ll do this more often.

the sting from the stretch subsides soon, but the feeling of being full stays, and you keep it, loving how good it feels. the head of his cock nudges deep inside you, bobbing up into your throat and you fall apart, fucking yourself on him, addicted to the way he hits every little spot inside you that you need. 

you’re moaning, panting loudly in his ear, and he eats every single one of them up, gripping your hips when he guides you down onto him. kisses lay wetly across the side of his neck, teeth graze over his ear, praises of how fucking big he is, and how good he feels inside you, relay to him over and over, making his cock twitch when he picks up the pace in his thrusts. 

“you’re so nice while i fuck you baby, maybe this is how i should shut you up more often huh?” he teases, but you don’t care, you’d start arguments with him if it meant he’d always feel this good in you. 

“in so deep,” you whimper more to yourself but he hears you, he hears it all. he hears how fucking soaked you are around him, hears every little breath, every little moan that comes out of you. 

he smacks over your ass, chuckling to himself when you whine and clamp down around him. “maybe i should go find that guy huh?” he leans forward, lips on your shoulder when he ruts up into you deeper, right there to hold you closer when you keen into him at the hard thrust.

“ ‘should find him and fuck you in front of him, show him how its done, what do you think of that baby?” he grunts, hands tightening over your hips. 

you just moan, babbling something incoherent when you grind down onto him, his words acting as a lighter underneath the growing flame while you bounce on him. you squeeze around him, your body unashamed of how much you like the idea of such a dirty act. 

he feels the way you clamp down around him, chuckling breathlessly, his hand traveling behind your neck to force you to look at him. “or maybe it’s you who’d like that,” he taunts, expecting a shy shake of your head, but you just nod, trying to meet his thrusts. "i'll do whatever you want javi," you whimper pathetically, and god, that does something to him. 

"know you will, so sweet baby," he groans, leaning back to watch where you both meet, loving the sight of his cock entering and disappearing into your cunt. 

you tug at the hair from the back of his head, messily kissing all over his jaw and cheek, and he takes it all, adoring how clingy you are with him right now. he pulls the front of your dress down, hooking his fingers under the cups of your bra and groaning to himself when he sees your tits, pretty and pert under the bra, he of course, picked out for you. 

black see-through lace, his favorite. 

"gonna be the death of me, mi vida," he murmurs to himself, latching his hot eager mouth over them. he assaults the soft skin with his tongue, teeth grazing over your sensitive nipples, a smirk forming around the flesh when he teases the ghost of a bite, wanting to laugh when you squirm and arch your back at his actions. 

his fingers find their place back to your clit, rubbing over the nerves like clockwork, syncing the way you bounce on him with harder thrusts, making the pleasure surrounding you inescapable. 

breathing is getting harder, but it feels unimportant, everything does when it comes to javi. in this moment if he told you to stop breathing altogether you honestly just might listen to him. 

but it's so much so soon, and you want to hold onto the moment for as long as you can, enjoy each stroke of his cock deep inside you longer, and if he keeps touching you like this, you know you won't last. you paw at his hand, trying to push the relentless wrist away. "no more javi, m'gonna cum too fast please," you whimper, but he doesn't agree. you're finished when he's finished. 

"do i need to cuff you to the headrest or are you gonna keep those hands to yourself?" he spits, sounding harsh, sounding serious. you whine like a wounded puppy, shaking that empty little head of yours. 

"but javi," he grabs your chin, guiding your gaze downward when he moves his jacket to the side, revealing the cuffs that hang from his belt loops. "think i'm kiddin'? hands to yourself or around me. otherwise you get these. your choice," he's still inside you, and you can't take it, you throw your arms around him, hugging him close while trying to get him to move again. 

"gonna be good, gonna listen, m'sorry, please move javi, please?" 

he senses your desperation, and gives in, continuing his thrusts. you sigh in relief, following the way his hips piston up into you with your own. 

"can i touch you?" you whisper, unsure if you're allowed to, but javier relents, nodding with a kiss to your neck. you slide his jacket off eagerly, quickly unbuttoning his shirt before your hands are running along the warm skin of his shoulders, squeezing them when he thrusts right there. 

your hands drag down his chest, nails lightly digging into his tanned skin when your head falls back, rising and falling up and down on his cock. his mouth is on you again, tongue swirling over the curve of your chest, gripping them roughly in his wide palms. 

he watches you from this view, how you lose yourself when he's got his cock in you, and he thinks maybe he should have encouraged you to ride him earlier. 

he's getting close, watching you has only pulled him closer to the end, his cock twitching the more he imagines how good you'd look dripping in his cum. he imagines your trembling thighs being parted by his hands, your abused hole just leaking and leaking from his cum. 

"m'close, gonna let me finish inside mi vida?" he grunts, and you nod heavily, clamping harder down around him when he asks. "please, please javi," you beg, and who is he to deny you? 

his fingers run around your clit once more, those tight circles from the pads of his fingers bring you right there alongside with him, moaning his name in an incomprehensible voice while his face rests in the crook of your neck, bouncing you on top of him. 

"always wanted to cum in you baby, always wanted to fill you up nice an' good —fuck—, make you fuckin' full of me, just know you'd look so fuckin' good just drippin– shit," you're squeezing him like you never have before, his confessions, the ferver in the way he fucks you is just too much, your body acts before you can even process what’s happening. 

you cum all around his cock, and the pulsing of your walls, the whimpers of his name from your pretty lips is all he needs to join you in your blinding orgasm. he's cumming inside you, grunting your name and how fuckin' good you are for him, his mouth hot on your neck while he fucks you through your shared orgasms. 

he doesn't let up on your clit until the pleasure bleeds into pain, and you can't take it. with heavy breaths you collapse in his arms, panting like you've just ran a marathon, sweaty forehead resting on the cool leather of the seat. 

he gently shifts your hips backward, looking down at his cum that pours out of you. he likes the mess, likes how your cunt looks when he rubs his cum across your throbbing clit, you jump at the stimulation, begging him in a tired voice, no more javi. 

he listens, taking sympathy on your spent body. he puts your panties back over you, tucking himself away before he repositions you so you're properly sitting in his lap, letting your legs stretch across the rest of the backseat. 

"you okay mi bebita?" he murmurs softly, and you hum a sleepy yes, still buzzing from your orgasm. "still mad?" he asks jokingly, pulling a hazy giggle from you.

“i think you just fucked any anger i had left out of me." he laughs proudly at that, rubbing your back. "yeah? maybe that's how we should settle all our fights then." 

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 5

Co-written with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction my beloved Fen, who I could not do this without. Thank you for being my emotional sounding board, my dear friend, my wonderful cowriter and helpful beta reader. I adore you.

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Javier, Candy, and Santi kiss and make up. Except Javi and Santi don't kiss. Yet.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it. Covert/emotional incest in the past, Santi's mommy issues, m/m dynamics, internalized bi/homophobia

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and has hair. I've decided Candy is just latina bc she's a sex worker in Colombia so this is what I'm doing. Reader also has curly hair and dark skin.

ADDITIONAL WARNINGS!: Santi's panicy trauma response. Nothing crazy he just needs Javi to like him so so bad. Food and eating. SMUT! Fingering, reach around hand job, multiple orgasms, edging, praising, talking you through it, talking HIM through it, more hints at homoerotic subtext.

Thank you as always to my beloved Fen <3 I couldn't do this without your encouragement.

2.5 words

A/N Since I am apparently an incomprehensible writer, please know that the lst smut scene here is not a threesome, it's Javi fingering Candy and Candy flashing back to her giving Santi a reach around handjob. I wanted to compare and contrast the way the two pairs care for and pleasure each other. but it came across as a threesome :(

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******************************

Santi and Javier had been working in total silence for 4 hours.

As soon as Javi had walked in, Santiago looked up from his paperwork with his large eyes attempting to catch Javier’s but to no avail. Javi ignored him, and continued to ignore him most of the day. He felt bad, he really did, and he missed his friend. It was hard sitting across two desks pushed together, and seeing Santiago right there looking so sad was difficult. Santi was fidgety, unfocused, obviously not paying attention to his work. He’d stare at a page for ages, knee bouncing almost in time to his tapping finger. The boy was going to drive him insane.

Noon hit, and Javi went to lunch, walking down the street to a cart to grab a empañanda. Fuck it, some churros too. His doctor said he needed to start watching his sweets, but it’d been a week. He’d burn off some calories with someone tonight. Not wanting to go back to the office during his lunch hour, Javier walked a few blocks to a small park and parked himself under a tree for some shade as he stuffed his face.

Javier tried to pinpoint exactly what had made him so angry at his young coworker. Maybe part of it is the betrayal. Santi went through his things, his contact information and found one of his girls. His. Candy was his. Javier Peña took pride in protecting his girls, whether or not they were his informants. Helena’s attack had scarred him, the image of her beaten and naked body was something that kept him awake at night. He couldn’t let that happen to Candy. Javi had tried to check in on Helena, knowing the DEA had gotten her a visa to the US, but she wanted no contact with him. Maybe it was the fact: if Santi found his contact information for his girls, and that meant that anyone could. What if it had been a drug lord? Lorea knew the DEA was after him next, what if they had found Candy and brutally raped her like Helena, or killed her?

Javier flicked an ant off his arm.

Maybe it was the fact it felt like he didn’t really know Santi. He called him Pope as a nickname, a call to his church going, the way he was nearly a blushing virgin, he always avoided his eye with topics of sex. The young, naive kid he knew was soliciting prostitutes? It was hard to justify the two pictures in his head. 

Maybe it was the fact it was Candy. Candy of all people. Candy was special to him, a favorite and someone he enjoyed seeing even outside of sex. 

Or maybe it was that fact it was Santi. His partner, his friend, someone he trusted with his very life and liked working with.

He knew both of them, he knew they would connect. He knew they would enjoy each other's company, he knew they’d treat each other well… How could Candy not want someone like Pope? Some as good as Santiago, as kind, as attractive…

Shaking the thoughts away, Peña gathered up his trash, shoved the rest of his churro in his mouth and returned to the pulpit to sit in silence for another 4 hours. Then he saw Santi.

For the first time that day, Javier got a good look at him when he stepped under the arch of the open doorway and watched the boy as he acted, thinking he wasn’t watched.

Santiago was a fucking mess. He had bags under his eyes, his normally well dressed and ironed shirt was wrinkled and it was evident Santi had not shaved since the start of the weekend a few days ago. Santi’s face was always well groomed, a trim, neat mustache surrounded by freshly shaven cheeks and neck showing off his youthful skin; now he looked older. Tired. Worn out. He hadn’t even worn a tie. Nervous ticks were all over him, but what got Javier was that Santi hadn’t moved. 

He hadn’t eaten yet.

All his anger at Santiago melted away, and Javier felt sorry for him.

*

“Haven't you had enough calories today, Peña?” The lady at the food cart said. 

Javier rolled his eyes as he paid the money. “It’s not for me.”

She glanced at his stomach; it was not as flat as it used to be, that’s for sure. “Sure.”

As Javier approached the open door of their shared office again, he made sure to squeak his shoes so Santi knew he was coming before he rounded the corner. 

Without looking up, Santi muttered his first words of the day. “You’re late. Your lunch is only an hour, you know that right?”

“I took part of yours, since you didn’t go.”

Santi muttered something about actually doing his work, but Javi knew today had been Santi’s least productive day since starting. He tossed the brown paper on Santi's desk, and at first Santi begins to complain about the grease on his paperwork, but then he opens the bag.

“What’s this?”

“Your lunch.”

Santi looked up to him, his endearing youth still evident despite the disheveled appearance. “You brought me lunch?”

Javi tried to wave him off as he sat down. “Don’t worry about it.”

The younger man stared up at him, mouth hesitating as if he wanted to say something, but then stopping, then starting, then stopping, then- “I’m sorry!” The words begin spilling out of him. “I’m sorry I went through your things, I really really am! I just didn’t want someone random and-

He raised a hand to stop him. “Garcia, stop. Listen…” He shook his hand and leaned against his desk. Santi looked up at him, desperate and wide-eyed, mouth parted. “She was right. I can’t control her… or you. It’s none of my business who you see…” Javi clears his throat. “And you are still seeing her?”

Santiago stood up, frantic still. Javier wasn’t into weed, but he thought Santi needed to have a smoke. “I’ll stop! Just say the word and I’ll stop!”

“No, Garcia, I get it. I know how it is with her, she’s special. Candy’s important.”

“Not as important as you!”

Santiago’s sudden admission shocked Javier. What did he mean by that? Did he mean… no, Santi wasn't like that, right? “What are you talking about?”

“I mean…” His excited edge gave way to anxiety. “I just mean, we’re friends, right? Partners. We have a good thing going right now and I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Oh. “I see.” He couldn’t help feel a little disappointed. “Yeah, we do have a good thing going. Let’s just drop it, alright? I doubt Candy will schedule us on the same day again. We can just pretend it didn’t happen.”

Javier was already moving to sit at his desk as Santi eagerly agreed. “Yes! I- uh, I mean, yeah, perfect.”

Javi snickered a bit. They sat in silence for a moment before Javier decided to bring it up just one more time… “Just… be careful, alright? And treat her good?”

“I do.” Santi was quick to assure. “And I’ll be careful.”

*

The knock on your door made you immediately nervous. No one just showed up, except Señora Perez bringing leftovers for you… when you peaked through the peephole and saw a nervous looking Javi, you sigh. Dumbass. Annoying dumbass. Annoying dumb who fucked really well and was actually super sweet and you enjoyed his company most days… 

“I know you’re home, Candy.” Of course he did. 

You open the door, immediately crossing your arms and leaning against the door frame. “What do you want? Santi isn’t here.”

“I know.” He assured you, then held out a rolled up, large poster. “I wanted to…” Apologize? Javi didn’t say he was sorry. Wasn’t the type. “I brought you this.” He held out the rolled up paper.

Tentatively, Javier held out his gift, which you took suspiciously. It was the Audrey Heffburn poster he promised you. “Javi… I thought you’d throw it away after how I yelled at you…” You were touched at how he thought of you, bringing you posters of artists he knew you loved to liven up your apartment.

“Never, querida.” He promised. “And I’m sorry for making a scene in your home, in front of your neighbors.”

You smile softly, relaxing a bit. He was so kind, so handsome… “I forgive you, just mind your business next time, comprende?”

“Comprendo, Candy.”

Your body language eased. “You and Santi kiss and make up?”

Javier couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “Si, minus the kissing.”

“You’ll get there.” You wink, and make enough room in the doorway. “You wanna come in?”

Of course he did. He always did. And you always wanted him to. 

*

Javi spread you open. After he sat you on his lap, you wrapped your legs around him and as he spread his legs, yours went with it. It was tender, the way he touched you, calloused fingers running the length of your body and taking you apart on his fingers. Whiskers tickled your neck as he nudged, fingers entering you. Filling you. Taking you. You were his.

And Santi was yours.

You played with Santi’s body, controlled it the way Javi controlled you. From behind. He liked it between your legs, that much was obvious. His hands, his cock, his face. He belongs there. Earlier today he had sat there, his ass between your naked legs with your back to your bed frame, Santi’s back to yours. He felt so good like this, his body firm and young and supple in your grasp and god, you loved having him. It’s no wonder Javi loved taking you like this, on his lap.

Javi liked you on his lap, liked you open for him. Your whole body. He loved to feel you clench around him, himself fully dressed and while you were completely naked.

It was different with Santi. Both of you lay bare as you jerked him off. It was vulnerable this way, both of you naked and open to each other. Santi was so vulnerable… you wanted to protect his sweet little heart, to take care of him, hear him whimper and whine just as he did now as you tease him.

You wanted Javier to devour you, to take you fully and leave nothing left, you needed to be consumed by him… and consume you he did. Javi’s mouth left nowhere untraced, your shoulders, your back, your neck, it was all sopping wet with his sloppy kisses, long fingers pumping into you.

Your fingers wrapped around Santi’s cock, swiping over the slit dripping with pre-cum in his excitement for you… That excitement excited you in turn, his enthusiasm to be explored and used… and you were grateful for him. You let him know it.

“Pretty boy, being so fucking good for me.”

“Pretty girl, being so fucking good for me.” Javier praised when you don’t cry out at the little nibble he took at your throat as he applied pressure to your clit. He knew just how to tease you, to build you up so high that your crash would be blinding. “Not yet, baby,” He coaxes you.

“Not yet baby,” You coo at Santi, tightening the base of his cock to stop his orgasm. “Can you wait just a little longer please? I want you to cum so hard, Santiago, want you to fucking explode on my hand.”

“Y-yes,” he agrees, breathy and desperate but so, so good. He was your good boy. “I can do it, Candy, I can.”

You felt up his chest, his pecs, his tight and perfect body as you jerk him. “I know you can, Santi.”

“I know you can, Candy.” Javi growls in your ear, stubble scratching at your face. “Give me one more.”

You whine, over sensitive from two orgasms on his mouth, but no less hungry for another, no less desperate for the sweet release on Javier’s fingers.

“S’too much!” Santi’s hips thrust into yours, his body beginning to writhe just as you had in Javi’s. 

“It’s okay, baby, you can do it.” You coo at Santi just as Javi coos at you. Then, you both give your command. “Come for me.”

Your orgasm was blinding, clenching down on Javi so hard you weren’t sure how he could move his fingers, cum dripping out of you and onto your shitty plywood floor.

“Oh, good girl,” Javi praises. “Just feeling that pussy cum, I know it must feel so good, doesn’t it?”

“Feel’s so good, doesn’t it?” After half an hour of edging, Santi cums so hard he choked a sob out and you have to keep one arm wrapped around his slim body to keep him steady. Rops of warm cum spill out of him, covering your hand.

Javier licked his fingers clean of your um. Without so much as a care to his own erection in his jeans, he picks you up and carries you to your bed. You’re sleepy… Why were you so sleepy? Javi didn’t need to ask, finding a night dress and pulling in over you on the bed.

“Javi, let me take care of you.” You ask, tiredly. He simply gets a warm cloth to clean you up.

Sliding out from behind Santi, you make sure to place plenty of pillows under him as he relaxes back. You wash off his cock, then get in the blankets with him. 

“What about you?” He asks, soft and sweet and so, so sleepy, his fingers going to the band of your pants, but you stop him.

“Sleep, precious boy.”

“Sleep, baby.” Javi kissed your forehead.

“But you didn’t even get off! C’mon, I’ll just hang my head off the bed-” You’re mostly teasing, smiling up at Javier and giggling, but he stops you.

“Rest.” It’s firmer now. “Consider this an apology.”

“Well can my apology also include you cuddling me.”

Javier smiled at that. “If you insist.”

You laid with Santi as he took a short siesta, finishing his time napping in your bed with you around him, your fingers trailing his perfect body, taking inventory  of every scar. He sure had a lot of burns on his arms for a career military boy. Maybe he was a cook in high school. Good boy like him would get a part time job… so responsible. You hoped you were able to help him let go of that responsibility, if only for a little. He deserved to be wild sometimes, even if he had a lot to learn.

Javi held you until you fell asleep, remaining fully clothed and fully closed off to you. When you woke, he was gone and to your relief, he didn’t try to pay you, outside of the poster he hung up for you. 

It was the first time you two had done anything that wasn’t transactional.

**************************

Thank you all for your patience, I was, WOW I WAS GOING THROUGH IT LMFAO IT WAS BAD. So I appreciate your patience as I get this out. You probably will not see anything from my as far as fics for like 2 weeks until finals are over since I am writing a fuck ton of essays. HMU in two weeks if you wanna learn about Aimee Semple McPherson or the satanic panic bc i gotta write a min 12 pages on EACH.

Anyway, until then, happy holidays! I hope you all have a wonderful and safe season celebrating any of the variety out there, or just enjoying time off, seeing family, or winter activities!

If you are in any of the horrifically dangerous areas in the world right now, know I am praying for you, and I hope you are safe.

Thank you to Fen, to Mona, to Clem, and all the people in the Oscars House Of Whores discord and the Pedro Pals discord for encouraging my insanity with these three!!! I really love the dynamics before Santi Javi and Candy and love writing this story, even if it takes me forever.

Since I like doing polls....

@runa-falls@lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbo @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @nanfafnan @kirsteng42 @mrsjavierp @nanfafnan @lovable-liar @axshadows @cookielovesbook-akie

[meinetranen]

Hold On.

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Miguel asks you to dance with him, but you tell him you don't know how, but he just wants you in his arms. Yet, now, he can only look back at the memory.

Warning: Angst, ATSV spoilers, mentions of death (a different version of reader).

Inspired by this song:

The heavy rain hit your windows, and it sounds filling the apartment as the sound of thunder came crashing down. It was almost comforting in some way with the lamps on to fill in the darkness from the cloudy skies.

You were reading a book on the couch, your eyes having to re-read the words. But as you did, you would glimpse up every now and then at Miguel, who walked around the apartment.

The lights dimmed down, candles were lit, and the sound of a slow and gentle Spanish song played in the background.

Miguel walked up to you, a hand reached out as he stared into your eyes.

"Dance with me," he says.

"What?" You place your book down on the couch as you stare at his open hand.

"You heard me." There was a small smirk on his lips, but there was a soft expression behind his eyes.

"I don't know how to dance, though, Miguel." You chuckle softly, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice.

Miguel then grabbed your hand, pulling you against him as your chests were close together. His other hand guided yours to be placed on his shoulder as he later placed his hand on your lower back.

"Just follow my steps." He stared down at you, and he began moving his feet.

You nodded and followed along with the rhythm of his body, looking down every once in a while to make sure you wouldn't step on his feet on accident.

"Look up at me."

Your eyes went back up to Miguel, who was staring down at you, and he had a small smile on his face. You smiled back at him as you slowly figured out how to dance to the music with him as you held each other tight.

It was just you and him, holding each other as you slowly danced with each other, the sound of the faint rain in the background as the music played over.

His warmth radiated onto your body, giving you a sense of comfort as you rested your head against his chest, smiling to yourself.

"Te amo." I love you.

"I love you too," you whisper.

Little did you know, Gabriella, your daughter was watching the whole scene happen in front of her as she peaked her head out, smiling while watching her parents dance with each other, holding on.

Holding on.

You held onto him when your universe was collapsing.

Miguel had an arm wrapped around your back as the other carried Gabriella, trying to save you both from the fall of your universe. But suddenly, you found yourself drifting away into smaller pieces, watching as the same thing happen to your daughter.

You reach out to both Miguel and Gabriella.

But it's too late.

You and Gabriella were gone.

And Miguel was falling apart.

Behind the orange screens, Miguel played the same song you and him danced to him that day, and those days after that. He would hum and move his legs to the same beat as he always had.

There, you were on the screen with him, holding him close as you danced together in the silence of your apartment.

Over and over again, Miguel would watch the video of you two together, imagining in his head that you were in his arms again, dancing alongside with him.

Lying to himself that you were there.

Just holding onto him.

[little-ars0n]

Good Morning

Houston, Texas.

It was early morning. A wide bed with white sheets as soft as silk itself, fluffy starched pillows and the smell of feminine perfume all over the bedroom with a big picture window where you can see the city. The sun rays coming through the window and illuminating Annabelle's peaceful and pretty face. She suddenly woke up, her eyes opened slowly until she let out a soft yawn. She was alone, but by the way the sheets look wrinkled on the other side of the bed, it was obvious that someone was sleeping with her before.

She sat on the edge of the bed, fixing her messy red hair for a few seconds, and then finally got on her feet. It was hot outside, so she was wearing a baggy t-shirt with nothing else but her panties. She was putting on her slippers when suddenly she started to hear music outside, so she opened the door to see what was happening. The first thing she saw was Aracely sweeping the entrance while hearing the music playing, she didn't recognized the song, but could understand some words of it. "Fuego" fire. "Agua" water. "Castillo" castle. And more.

She kept walking, now going to the kitchen. She started hearing a voice... a deep, hoarse voice, singing. When she got there, she peeked through the doorway.

Kaine, turning his back while doing breakfast. Annabelle could see his broad and muscular back, with some scars on his skin. Some simple grey pants kept him from being half-naked. As he sang...

Soy el fuego que arde tu piel

Soy el agua que mata tu sed

El castillo, la torre yo soy

La espada que guarda el caudal

Tú, el aire que respiro yo

Y la luz de la luna en el mar

La garganta que ansío mojar

Que temo ahogar de amor

Y cuáles deseos me vas a dar, oh

Dices tu, mi tesoro basta con mirarlo

Y tuyo será, y tuyo será...

Since when Kaine learned how to pronounce spanish so well?, spending time with Aracely has his benefits.

When Kaine noticed Annabelle's presence, he turned around and looked at her with a slightly serious face.

"Good morning. I made breakfast."

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hello wendy!! Can i request for breakup angst with bonten! kaku

thank you! I hope you have a great day mwahh <3

UGH YES YES YES IT'S BREAKUP ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING because by golly I want this man to be HAPPY

Without You: Kakucho Hitto x Fem!Reader

wc: 1k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation:

The sounds of the beach drag you from your sleep.

The cawing of birds, the crashing of the waves... it's all so peaceful.

But it's in direct contrast to how you feel.

You'd taken the semi-unprompted excursion to see if maybe... maybe you could get the black-haired, half-blind man out of your mind. Maybe you could wash his memory away in the ocean. Maybe you could scrub his touch from your body with the sandy beach. Maybe you could become new again with the rays of the sun beating down on your flesh.

But you find that the more time you spend in the place you'd escaped to, the more you feel trapped.

"I can't do this without you."

You'd told Kakucho to "you have to" and vanished like the phantom you always wanted to be, so why can't you shake him off of you?

The ocean stares back at you with a vast and empty look, begging you to take a dip to ease your troubles. But you know if you take that risk, you might never resurface, drowning your sorrows and your body in the depths of your misery.

And the villa - oh, the villa is miserable, too. It's so big, so empty... and so many potential memories haunt you as you stand in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the bedroom.

It'd gotten so bad that you exiled yourself to the couch, where you could stare out of the Juliet balcony windows and cry yourself to sleep while the image of Kakucho's face plays behind your eyes over and over again.

You had to let him go. He was doing nothing but following Izana's ghost around, and you couldn't keep up. You needed him... but he needed Izana. And you can't be someone you never knew. But you know you shouldn't have left. You should've just told him how it felt... told him how you felt.

You rise from the sofa slowly, dragging yourself to the bathroom where you ignore the mirrors and the clothes folded neatly on the side of the sink. Whoever your parents employed at your villa made sure you were well-fed and dressed, but you hoped the employees wouldn't betray you. If your mother and father knew about your spilt with the only man you'd ever loved...

You shake your head, clearing your thoughts and opening the shower door before stepping into it and letting the pre-programmed water cascade down your back. You endure emptiness as the thoughts of your ex flood your mind while you cleanse yourself, then stepping out into the cold air with a shiver.

You're almost done with your skin routine when the doorbell rings.

"Ms. y/n?" The attendant during the day pages you over the pa system. "There's a visitor here for you. You have to sign for some package, I suppose?"

"On my way."

You toss on undergarments and a caftan, brushing a stray curl away from your face as you shuffle toward the door, looking at your bare feet. Perhaps it's something your mother ordered, you think as you open the door again, and watch the delivery man turn to you, hands holding a clipboard.

"Y/n?"

"Yes, that's me." A large vase of flowers is at his feet, and he hands you a slip, eyes flicking from your face to the villa behind you as you sign. You take the heavy vase and carry it by the handles to your kitchen counter, placing the stoneware at eye level. The arrangement is full of your favorite flowers; lilies and orchids bursting out of the vase in various colors. You snatch the note off the side, reading the words once, twice, then a third time before turning to face the ocean as instructed.

You witness Kakucho walking toward the villa from the beach, his hands shoved into his pockets as he approaches. In an instant, you throw open the back door and allow him inside, his lips crashing into yours as you kiss him feverishly.

"Should've never left you," you whisper, and Kaku hums, his eyes closed as you kiss his entire face. "I should've never left you. I'm sorry." Your hands run through his hair, and he opens his eyes, his red one roaming your face.

"I'll find you every single time," he promises, kissing your nose. "Don't worry. I'm never far."

He's never far.

You admit you'd forgotten that Kakucho knows you. He knows you're an avoidant type. Knows you like the back of his hand. Knows how to handle you, how to hold you, how to love you. He just knows.

Your breath ghosts across his lips as he reminds you just how much of you he's committed to memory.

He doesn't even have to speak as you kiss and he pumps into you with a calculated slowness, making you feel every inch of him again and again. His fingers recall how you like to be touched, flicking across the sensitive bud of your clit with ease. And his mouth does ungodly things to your skin, leaving behind hickies and tender kisses with every stroke.

You find yourself quivering in his grasp, cumming twice with him, and experiencing a fullness you know you couldn't have without him. When it's all said and done, he sways with you on certain feet to the music playing on the record player, holding you close as a few errant rays of sunlight bring noon upon the villa.

"How did you know where to find me?" you wonder, taking a glance at the flowers.

"Your parents have taken quite a liking to having me around," Kakucho admits, laughing. "It's a wonder I didn't scare them with my tears."

"You cried in front of them?"

"Like a bitch," he whispers, kissing your forehead. "Couldn't hold it in when I saw your mother at the door. She could almost be your twin." Soft kisses are littered across your cheeks and when he finally reaches your lips, he pauses.

"I can't do this without you, Kaku," you murmur, and a grin tugs at Kakucho's lips as he breathes,

"And you won't have to, sweetheart. I'll make sure of that."

[vanderlindemorgans]

Mr. Perfectly Fine

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Two weeks after breaking up with you, you're picking up the pieces of your heart that had been broken by your now ex-boyfriend Javier Peña. You want answers, a clear reason as to why things fell apart. The only problem is that Javier refuses to even acknowledge your existence

Warnings: A little bit of period-typical sexism, but not much, Javier being an asshole, mentions of prostitution, some low level typical Narcos themes

Authors Note: So this idea has been swimming around in my head ever since the song was released last week. I already had a Bad Breakup fic for Javi planned but I’ve decided to extend it into three parts! Also reader speaks in English bc I do not understand a word of Spanish other than that one line in Ultraviolence. None of this is beta read, so there’s bound to be a few mistakes - if I get anything really wrong then let me know. 

Part 2 | MASTERLIST

The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. From the moment someone walked in they could feel it, the stifling air of awkwardness surrounding every single person in the room as they pretended to carry on with their work, averting their eyes to the spectacle presented in front of them, a war of agitation rife between two agents sitting across the room from each other as well as the unfortunate Steve Murphy who just happened to sit between you two. From your end it was simple silent fury, directed right across the room to where your partner, or rather, ex-partner, Javier Peña was seated at his own desk, casually leafing through mountains of paperwork and suspect photos as if you weren’t practically shooting daggers at him from across the way. 

He wasn’t doing anything, and that was exactly the problem - you wanted him to do something, say something, anything, if only it would show that he even gave a damn about the situation at all. But he never did. Every morning when he walked into work carrying a black coffee in his hands, his top shirt buttons hanging loose as they always seemed to be and his hair mustled as if he hadn’t been sleeping properly, he said nothing. He walked past you as if you weren’t even there, ignoring your stares and crashing down at his desk, ready to continue the endless chase for Pablo Escobar. And it infuriated you. Oh lord, how it made you burn. With every refusal of acknowledgement he gave, you became even more tempted to march right over to him and strike him across his stupid handsome face. You never did, of course, and you never would. Physical confrontation just wasn’t your style. Nevertheless, the mere thought of such did bring you a small bit of joy to your broken little soul. 

Things had been going like this for two weeks now. You hadn’t expected much on the first morning back in the office after what had happened between you. A part of you wanted him to come grovelling to you, insisting that he’d made a mistake and begging for you to take him back. That in itself was nothing more than a fantasy: Javier Peña was too proud to grovel. If anything, his behaviour shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest. He was the one who broke up with you over a 27 second phone call, after all. 

Despite taking that into consideration, you thought by now you would have heard something from him. He’d have to talk to you eventually since you two were working the same case. Apparently no, because it appeared that he went out of his way to deliver every piece of correspondence meant for you through to Murphy, letting him act as a sort of unwilling middle man between the two of you. You knew that Steve already felt awkward enough having to be in the same room with the two of you whilst this was all going on, so your sympathy for him deepened when he was thrust into the even more awkward position of messenger. Sometimes you swore he made up fake meetings with Messina to attend to or new leads to investigate just so he could get away from the suffocating air of hate around you and Javi. And really, who could blame him?

You felt your nose twitch in annoyance as you trained your eyes forward to him, periodically looking down at various files of intel to keep up the facade that you were indeed working, though you eyes were across the room for most of the time, searching for any sign of emotion on his face. Nothing, zilch, not a single trace, his expression only showcasing general indifference, as if nothing were wrong at all. You gripped your hand tightly around the edge of your pen, thinking of everything you wished you could say to him. How’s your heart after breaking mine, Javi? For your information, ever since you pulled that bullshit on the phone, I’ve been miserable as all fucking hell. Before all that happened, I wanted to try. I was even ready to try to forgive you after that stupid fight, but you just had to make that call. You know what? I’d actually hate you less if you just acted like you cared a little that we broke up. But noooo, you’re just Mr. Perfectly Fine, what with your ignoring me and your casual cruelty, your always showing up at just the right time, and your insincerity, and the way you think everything fucking revolves around you. Well, I’ll tell you something Javi - I’m done! Absolutely done with you and your shit. Jump off a cliff for all I care!

“I’ll be back later on, gonna go follow up on a few leads” your thoughts were cut off by Javier’s abrupt announcement, your eyes gracing themselves upwards to watch him hastily scoop his jacket off the back of his chair and skulk his way out of the office. Every bitter word you wanted to say to him burned on your tongue, though you only managed to settle on a simple yet seething glare while his eyes glazed over you, rushing himself out of the room as quickly as humanly possible. You noticed Murphy look over his shoulder like he was about to say something but it was too late - Javi was already long gone. 

_______

Letting out a low groan of frustration, you slammed the door to your car shut and threw your head back against the seats headrest, the stress of the job and the emotional weight of the day combining to make you even more tired than you would usually be at the end of a long day. Javier hadn’t been back to the office since he left, leaving both you and Murphy to pick up all the work he’d left in his absence. If that wasn’t infuriating enough, the thought of him running around all of Bogotá just to avoid seeing you brought your anger to new unreachable heights. It was annoying - him not being around should have left your mind to be free to do some actual goddamn work but instead, just as before, every single moment he occupied your mind, living there permanently as if it were his right. How much more infuriating could that man get?

Thankfully, the drive home wasn’t any more of a nuisance than usual, since the apartment complex you shared with the others wasn’t that far from the embassy, so that was a small positive at the very least. Once you’d pulled up to the lot you were feeling a lot more level-headed than you did before, and were mainly looking forward to kicking back in pajamas and watching whatever was on TV with the leftover pizza from the night before. It wouldn’t do much to take your mind off everything with Javi, though, you knew that much. Still, a small bit of bliss was still bliss. 

Your apartment was down the hall from Javier’s, which had made it easier for you two when you were together but now felt like another sore reminder of what had been. Sighing heavily to yourself, you kicked the door to your car shut and stuffed the keys into the pocket of your jeans. A minor annoyance, sure, nothing you couldn’t handle though. You wondered if he would even be back right now. He had to be, right? An idea started to creep into your head at that thought, taking root and festering until you had practically talked yourself into doing it already, descending up the stairs with a sense of purpose behind you. Maybe if you showed up on his doorstep you could force him to confront you, make him look you in the eye. Any sort of acknowledgement to what you two had would be nice at this point, and if you had to take action yourself to get him to do it, then so be it. 

The closer you got to his door the more you felt you should turn back, a feeling of uneasiness beginning to form somewhere deep in your chest. This might be a bad idea. What if you two got into a fight again? As much as you wanted nothing more than to hurl some carefully crafted insults at Javi and his stupid gorgeous face, you weren’t exactly up for a full on battle that could result from it. Would it be better to simply go home and ignore your problems a little more?

Once you were only inches from the door was when you started to hear it. At first it sounded muffled, on account of the fact that there was a physical barrier between you and them, and you weren’t quite sure exactly what you heard at first but when you pressed yourself closer to the door you could hear it all clear as day - a woman moaning loudly on the other side, whimpering out Javi’s name and betraying exactly what was going on within the walls of the apartment. You felt your breath hitch in your chest, the world feeling like it was collapsing around you from the very second you realised why he had left early for the day. Unable to stop yourself, you tore yourself away from the apartment door and ran down the hall to your own place, tears falling at a rapid pace that refused to stop. You didn’t know if the woman in there was an informant, or a prostitute, or some random chick he’d picked up in a bar after ditching work for the day. In the end none of it mattered though. All that mattered is that it wasn’t you in there with him, like it used to be, like it should be, and that fact made you hurt all the more fiercely.

Fumbling with the keys to your apartment, you choked on a low sob working your way through the waterfall of tears in your eyes to try and wrestle the key into the lock. Through your haste, you accidentally let them fall loose from your palms and onto the ground, prompting a loud “fuck!” to ring out from your throat, loud enough for everyone in the neighboring apartments to hear. Not like you really cared about that, to be honest. With your hands shaking, you finally managed to throw the door to your apartment open, slamming it back closed with a thud and leaning back against it with your head in your hands, slowly descending to the ground to finally give in to the wave of sorrow threatening to claim you. 

You’d known his reputation before you started seeing each other, that he slept with all his informants and chased every woman who crossed his path in Colombia. Actually, it had made you hesitant to get involved with him in the first place but once you two had bitten the bullet and finally admitted your damn feelings for each other, Javier had ceased with his wild ways, becoming solely dedicated to you and you alone. And sure, you two weren’t together anymore, there wasn’t anything stopping him from being with other women. It felt like a deeper twist of the knife though, what you’d heard from behind that door, and it practically confirmed the sickening feeling that had been building in you since the first day back in the office after your breakup, when Javi refused to even look you in the eye and acted as if you’d vanished off the face of the planet. He doesn’t care about me anymore. 

Moving on had been that much easier for him. While it took everything in you to get up each day, he was doing absolutely ok. More than ok, if the sounds coming from his apartment were anything to go by. He was even already settling back into his old reputation. You should’ve known it was too good to be true - the manwhore of the DEA, Javier Peña actually wanting to settle down with one woman, actually caring about a girl beyond what she could be in bed. You remembered the raised eyebrows when you two had first gotten together: for most, it just seemed so out of nowhere. You’d ignored them all, remembering all the times you’d be tangled up with Javi on the couch, his head nestled into your neck while your heart raced a mile a minute, hearing every sweet nothing and praise he’d whisper to you. Stupid girl, you should’ve known. 

_______

After such a huge revelation, you thought things might’ve changed. In what way they would, you didn’t really know. Maybe the change would be sudden, such as you finally working up enough of a resolve to actually go confront Javier on his shit. Or maybe you’d take a leaf out of his book and start trying to seem like nothing was wrong at all, maybe go out on a few dates with some other guys. One of the Search Bloc guys had been eyeing you up every time he came over with Carillo to talk strategy, maybe you could go out with him. Though you knew it wouldn’t help - unlike Javier, who was actually more than happy with where you two had left things, you weren’t, and acting like it was just to throw it in his face wasn’t really going to work if he didn’t care enough to look over at you in the first place. And even then, the idea of falling into bed with some random man that you didn’t care for all that much in the name of moving on didn’t seem right to you. 

Nevertheless, you expected some form of change to happen the morning after when you came into work to see Javier sitting at his desk, on the phone to someone you couldn’t care less about. But nope. Nothing had changed. You sat down and stared across the room at him, just like you’d done every day for the past two weeks, and he ignored your stare to continue with writing something down on his notepad, just like usual. 

Maybe the change would be gradual, you thought, staring back over at the man in the midst of your ire with one of your coldest glares. And sure enough, around midday Steve had come up to you asking to retrieve something from the evidence room for him. Apparently he needed to look over something but was too busy with his own work to go fetch it - you knew on some level that his excuse was bullshit as it had been a pretty slow day for all of you but sure, whatever, if it got you out of that room and away from Javi for at least a few blissful moments that was fine by you. 

Reaching out for the door to the evidence room, you pushed it open and admitted yourself into the crowded space, twisting around to slam the door shut firmly behind you. Before you were rows of shelves containing every bit of evidence the DEA had accumulated against Escobar - there wasn’t as much as there probably should have been due to the fire that had broken out at the Palace of Justice years before yet the amount contained in that small room was still impressive in size. Moving between the shelves, you scanned the rows of boxes looking for the one Steve had asked for in particular, taking your time with it as there was a small sense of serenity to being in that room. For once it felt like you could breathe. You didn’t have to sit at a desk across from your ex, you didn’t have to go home to your apartment that was literally across the hall from his, you could be alone and not feel suffocated by his ever-present shadow over your life. Though, in some way you supposed, your own memories could still prove just as suffocating as Javier’s own godforsaken presence.

As if by thinking of him you’d magically summoned him, the man himself strode through the door to the evidence room, appearing to be in quite a hurry however once he noticed you were there he stopped, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before returning to their usual stoic glare. You could barely contain your own disappointment at his sudden appearance, letting your face twist into a low scowl as you watched him walk down the aisle you were standing in, his eyes dashing from row to row searching for any place to look so they could avoid landing on you. Anger bubbled within you, a thousand different sarcastic or otherwise snarky remarks coming to mind that you could throw out at him, every one of them becoming increasingly more scathing the more you thought about it. Letting out a small sigh, you forced yourself to push all those delightful insults to the back of your mind, not wanting to become caught up in any more personal drama than you had to. Get the box and go. It’s that simple. There doesn’t need to be anymore to this. 

A minute later your eyes landed on the fabled box you’d been searching for, shoved into a corner and so out of the way you almost missed it completely. You thought of asking Steve what was in the box that he needed so bad when out of nowhere you heard a familiar voice speak up from behind you.

“Listen, I...about what happened on the phone a few weeks ago-”. 

So, it seems Mr. Perfectly Fine has finally decided to break his silence. In an instant you twisted yourself around to face him, quickly taking in his serious expression and stiff stature before your eyes met for the first time in two weeks.“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to speak to me now? That’s a first. I thought you were steadfast gonna ignore me for the rest of my life” you spat, not allowing him any form of politeness or decorum in your reply. Why should you? He’d ignored you for weeks. He deserved this. 

You watched as Javier tensed at your words, clearly not expecting the bite back that you had given to him. There was some part of his expression that almost looked sheepish in a way, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted this conversation to happen at all. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just-” he started with you rolling your eyes and cutting in almost immediately. “Save it for someone who actually gives a shit. Shouldn’t be hard since you don’t seem to care all too much yourself” you snarled, an action which only made him even more tense. 

“I do care, and I kind of always have fucking cared so if you could calm down a little and stop getting yourself worked up we can actually talk about what happened. Can you do that for me at the bare minimum?” he retorted, a harsh edge appearing in his tone that indicated he was already becoming frustrated with your attitude. You knew Javi’s emotions like the back of your hand - he wasn’t a patient man, and he had no time for snark or sarcasm, though only if it was directed at him. When it came to himself, he was more than happy to indulge in a small bit of pettiness. You didn’t much care at that moment though: as far as you were concerned, he lost the right to a civilised discussion when he broke up with you over the phone and then pretended you were invisible for weeks. It’s not like things can get any worse than they are now, right?

“Oh, sure, sure, we can totally talk. How about I start then?” you fired back, every word simmering with venom and dripping raw with sarcastic edge. Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the shelf to take him in, from the creases in his tie to his tired eyes staring straight into you. Wait, tired? You didn’t realise it until then but he had been looking pretty tired lately, almost like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Then again, his sleep schedule had never been quite stellar, so that wasn’t totally out of the ordinary. And he was probably up all night with that woman I heard him with, you reminded yourself bitterly.  “Look at you, so dignified in your well pressed suit, so smug and self-involved, so far above me in every way, so far above that you won’t even look me in the eye or acknowledge my presence. Tell me, Javier, has it really been that easy to forget about me?” you taunted. “Though I supposed when you’re seducing every whore in Colombia into your bed it would be easy, wouldn’t it?”. 

Javier was caught off guard by your remark, not anticipating that you would go so far as to accuse him of returning to his old ways. “First of all, she was an informant, and I had to leave yesterday to go meet up with her. Things ran into overtime and that’s the reason I wasn’t back. I thought you of all people understood that gathering intel is a vital part to the fight against Escobar?” he replied, that last line at the end being delivered with only a little more underlying snip than the rest yet it was more than enough for you to feel around thirty percent more pissed at him. 

You scoffed at his lies, your lip curling into a snarl at his attempt at patronising you. “Don’t patronise me. I’m well aware of the ins and outs of this job, in case you’ve forgotten I’ve been working with the DEA for eight years now, which is why I’m calling bullshit on your pathetic excuse for a lie. You do realise we live in the same building right? I know you were doing more than having a friendly discussion with her in there, in fact, I quite literally heard you two through the goddamn walls on my way back home. And before you try to spin some shit about how it was necessary for the case, you and I both know that fucking the informant isn’t a standard part of procedure. You don’t see Murphy bedding any of his sources of intel, do you?”. 

“Murphy’s married, princesa” he deadpanned, throwing in that little nickname he had for you that two weeks ago would have made your heart flutter but at this time and in the context he used it only soured your mood further. “That’s besides the point. You’ve been acting like I never even mattered to you at all, and it’s honestly making me wonder if I ever did? Especially since I apparently didn’t deserve the dignity of a proper breakup and got a 27 second phone call instead. Tell me, when did you change your mind? I thought I was supposed to be the one you were waiting for all your life. Guess that was pretty easy to change, wasn’t it?” you snapped.

“Hermosa, can you just fucking listen for one minute?! God, you’re impossible sometimes” Javier shouted, that infamous temper of his rising towards the surface at a rapid rate. It was only a matter of time before he spat something out that he would no doubt regret. In your own haze of anger though, that fact didn’t register with you at all - you only saw red. If you had to scream back at him to finally pull some answers out of the man, then so fucking be it.

“No, how about you listen for once! I know we had that big fight but we could have just talked. The next day when you called me up I was ready to forgive you for being a complete ass. And what did I get instead? ‘I’m sorry, I think we should stop seeing each other’ and a dead dial tone after that. I can tell the only reason you’re apologising today is just so you don’t have to feel like the bad guy in all of this. So what’s the truth? Why were you so ready to throw away a whole relationship over one night of terse words?” you screamed, not caring that you two were at work and anyone could pass by outside and hear you two argue. With the way you both were shouting, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire building could hear your screaming match with Javier. None of that mattered to you though. The only thing that mattered was the truth. 

You weren’t the only one refusing to hold back in any of this: any lingering spark of politeness had vanished in Javi, his eyes turning dark with searing anger you had only seen in him a couple of times before. “You want to know why? You want to fucking know why? It’s because you’re a fucking pain to deal with. You may be a fantastic agent but god you can be so stupid sometimes. You’re too reckless, you throw yourself into danger too willingly with no consideration for anyone else. Did you ever stop to think what would happen to the people who cared about you if you died? Do you even give a shit about the people trying to protect you?” he confessed, fury burning with every word that came out of his mouth, his admittance making you flinch. It was just like he said during your last fight, the one that led to him dumping you in the first place. 

Everything he said from that night came rushing back to you, remembering how furious he’d been at you for what had happened during your last raid together. You could see that underneath it all he was concerned for your safety, a gesture that was usually sweet but frustrated you that night as you felt something more akin to a porcelain doll than a capable agent in his eyes. Just because I’m your girlfriend, doesn’t mean you can treat me like I need to be protected. I can handle myself just fine. That was what you’d said to him that night, which should have been the end of it but somehow as the argument went on things got more and more heated that by the time he’d stormed out of your apartment neither of you could remember what had started it all. 

What took you by surprise was that apparently he was still stewing about this, for some reason not wanting to believe in your capabilities as an agent and that alone made you more pissed at him. “I don’t need to be protected, Javier. I’m a woman, a DEA agent for crying out loud, not a flower! I’m more than capable of handling myself, I was literally trained for this! Nobody else here seems to have a problem with how I approach things so maybe the issue isn’t my method of attack but the fact that you’re a paranoid asshole?”. 

He raised a single eyebrow back at you, looking somewhat skeptical of your claim but more so angry that somehow you two had managed to circle back around to the very thing that had started this whole mess.“Really? Because our last raid you were throwing yourself into the fray as if it were a suicide mission. It was a miracle you only ended up with a minor sprain to the wrist. Those men, the sicario’s, they don’t fucking hold back, one wrong mistake means the difference between life and death” he snapped.“And you know what? After constantly stressing over your safety every minute I was done. If you wanna end up with a bullet between your eyes, be my guest”.

The second those words slipped from his lips, he knew he’d fucked up. As the tears started to form in your eyes you could see him freeze up, his burning temper that had caused him to be so hateful before starting to slowly seep back, replaced with remorse and a hint of panic if you squinted. Although that didn’t matter much right now - his venomous words were rattling around in your brain, acting as a metaphorical hammer that took the final swing towards your damaged heart. Apparently what you heard through the walls the night before hadn’t been enough to break you completely, since there was still enough left of your heart for the rest of it to be shattered by his callous cruelty. 

Forcefully swallowing down your cries, you wanted so badly to disappear from the room. You wanted to melt into the floor, to run away and go find one of Escobar’s men and gloat about all you’d done to try to stop him so you could feel the mercy of a fatal gunshot wound to the head. All the pain you had felt previously paled in comparison to the knife that cut you then, the tight feeling of your throat closing with every word you forced out. “So you were lying. You don’t care about me at all. You...you think I’m stupid. And reckless. And...not able to handle being here…”. 

“Shit, princesa, that’s not what I meant, I-” Javier started, desperately scrambling to fix the mess he’d caused, however, you weren’t going to let him. He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it. Any hope he might have had of making things right was now thrown straight out the window. No more chances. Not anymore. 

“I think that’s exactly what you meant, Javi. Well, you got your wish I guess. I’ll get out of your life for good” your voice wobbled as you spoke, the next few minutes becoming a blur from when you’d pushed past him and ran out of the evidence room, hearing him call your name behind and not bothering to turn back to face him, running through the halls past different agents and members of the DEA, your hand shielding yourself in a pathetic attempt to save face. Somehow you’d managed to make it out to your car, throwing yourself into the driver's seat and jamming the keys into the ignition, your mind going in a million different directions. Your first thought was to go back home, though you knew that you’d have to hear Javi come back later, probably with yet another woman he picked up. You didn’t exactly have any friends in Colombia - with your line of work there hadn’t been exactly a lot of time to sit around and mingle with people, and truth be told you wanted to avoid people at all costs right then. Without any idea as to where you might be going, or what you were going to do, you pulled your car out of the parking lot and slammed on the gas to get you out of there, the world surrounding you not registering to you anymore and every sound becoming a rush against your ears that you paid no mind to. 

One thing was for sure - you weren’t going to give Javier a single drop more of you. Your time, your mind, your energy, your tears, nothing. He’d already proved himself to be a lying sack of shit who didn’t care about you, so as it stood, you wouldn’t care about him either. Like the end of a tragic tale, everything had crashed and burned, and now that you thought about it more, maybe that was how things needed to be. 

Goodbye, Mr Perfectly Fine. I’ve been Miss Misery for the last time. 

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[folklord]

bittersweet strawberry

javier peña x f! reader | part 1/3 - as time goes by series

my masterlist | word count: 4k

summary: going to a bar with your husband, you find out that Javier, an old lover, is now the owner of "Casablanca" bar. while you fall in love with him once again, the atmosphere brings the most insanely sensual flashbacks.

notes: as a historian myself, I must say that this is completely historically inaccurate. I tried my best to join the vintage aesthetic and the narcos theme but everything about it is fictional, including the characters. long story short, this is an alternative universe based on Casablanca (1942) - if you haven't watched, I absolutely recommend you to.

warnings: 《 18+ 》 alcohol, infidelity, drug war scenario, dirty talk, smut (praise kink, neck grabbing, unprotected p in v, oral - f receiving)

Nights were hot in Casablanca. The accelerated rhythm of the piano combined with the exhausting energy of all the battered and drunk bodies that were there, even if to the eyes we could only perceive the elegance and the good laughter. Javier Peña was the most magnificent and saddest of men. The whiskey that flowed down his throat met the knot of countless unspoken words and feelings killed by time. The war was over, but the remnants remained.

He acted as a good host, fulfilling his dream of having his own bar. The man's false joy matched his own very well. That was until one day, when an old friend threw this structure out of balance by entering Casablanca with the one thing Javier couldn't and would never get over not having: you, who made all his ambitious and capitalistic dreams insignificant.

[...]

On that Friday night, jazz involved all the well-dressed customers, accompanied by their beautiful ladies. Javier straightened his bow tie, and with a slight sigh walked over to the piano, noticing how beautiful the place had been since he bought it as an abandoned bar from a Cuban who was exiled, and took some time with all his renovations and whims to make it the real Casablanca, Peña's bar. Sam, the pianist, happily played a song, while Javier drank some old whiskey served by the newly hired waiter.

One scene was enough to change the whole atmosphere. All you had to do was walk through that door and then Casablanca was no longer the heavenly place of a fucked-up ex-civil servant's capitalist dreams, becoming the most miserable environment possible. The glass in Javier's hand grew colder. The air in his lungs emptied.

And you were the most splendid sight possible. His brown eyes studied you completely. You looked like a Hollywood actress, with the pearl necklace that adorned your collarbone and that space between your neck and shoulders that Javier had made his home for nights and nights, while your beautiful hands ardently tore his back. Hands that now, adorned with exquisite jewels, circled another man's arms - but which he could barely notice when your body, so well modeled by the white dress, stole all vision. His heart warmed along with his bottom parts, as his brain worked fast to retrieve all the memories of the angles your body was when you melted over him in the hot Bogota nights.

“Mr. Peña, the man has arrived” A polite employee diverted Javier from his thoughts.

"Who, kid?"

“Murphy, remember?”

This was the second factor that made Javier's paradise the most uninhabitable of hells. He watched the man beside you. It was him, Steve Murphy, an old friend from horrible times, an admirable man. Honored above all. He had every possible quality that made being your husband the most excruciating truth.

Javier needed to leave for a while. “Ask him to wait for me, please,” He told the boy. His physique begged him to go to the bathroom and his poor heart begged for fresh air.

[...]

Casablanca, Peña's bar. The decorated red signs screamed all of your past in front of you.

Your husband, such a gently good gentleman, helped you out of the car and held your waist gently. A small lock of hair fell over his forehead, and he smiled with his eyes to make sure you were okay, as he always did.

While he was talking to several men at the entrance, you looked around the bar. It was all exactly as he, the owner of the bar, had told you. As if time had never passed as if all those words he repeated with his dreamy brown eyes had materialized in physical structures so beautiful and harmonious. Everything screamed his name.

And you saw him, in a flustered, quick look, with his hair back, his usual mustache, and his suit so perfectly tailored. You saw him drink the whiskey as he always did, rushed, bitter. He left by the door on the left after talking to a guy.

Part of you was happy to be there, to know he was so good and happy. The other part of you remembered the man beside you and the immediate pain of realizing that none of that past would ever be real again. It's still the same old painful story.

Some men guided you and your husband to a table, where you sat facing each other and very close to the piano. You recognized the pianist, an old friend from Bogotá, Samuel, who smiled at you and continued playing beautifully.

"Here my love" Steve handed you a red drink. His clear eyes sparkling.

For a moment while the men talked, you lost your gaze over the bar looking for Javier. He was nowhere to be seen, even though you could feel him in every inch of the place.

"I have some words to say to the Captain, alright? You can wait for me here" Steve said. When you nodded in agreement and blinked your eyes softly, he stood up, buttoning his jacket. You were alone at the table, and enjoying the drink that your husband had left for you. Some sweet strawberry, he knew you loved it.

But Samuel's presence didn't let you feel peace. Like a scar from the past, incessant and stubborn, that insisted on staying. And you couldn't stop getting carried away. What was left was choosing to make the memory stronger, poking at the wound until it heals. You noticed that Samuel had taken a break, and decided to talk to him.

"Hello, Samuel"

"Hello, Miss. I never expected to see you again." He responded in a shaky voice and positioned himself to start playing.

"It's been a long time."

"Sí, señora. A lot of water under the bridge." He said, shyly.

"Play some of the old songs, Sam."

"Sí, señora." He smiled and agreed with your suggestion, playing an instrumental at a low volume. Without further ado, you got right to the point:

"Where is Javier?"

"I don't know. I ain't seen him all night." He lies, uncomfortable.

"When will he be back?"

"Not tonight, no more. He ain't coming. Uh, he went home."

"Does he always leave so early?" You continued to tease. Samuel, desperate, was already typing the wrong notes.

"Oh, he never...well...he's got a girl up at the Blue Parrot. He goes up there all the time."

You had heard what Blue Parrot was. A cabaret. Javier and his old manners.

"You used to be a much better liar, Samuel." You replied sadly, but deep down believing what Sam said, and took a little of the drink which was already warm.

"Leave him alone, señorita" His quiet voice held gentle advice "You're bad luck to him."

You pressed your lips together negatively. With a sad smile, you asked him:

"Play it once, Sam, for old time's sake."

"I don't know what you mean, señorita."

"Play it, Sam. Play As Time Goes By"

"Oh, I can't remember it. I'm a little ru-rusty on it." He stuttered. Of course, he can. He doesn't want to play it. He seems even more scared now.

You gave him a menacing but ironic look. Sam begins to play it very softly.

“Sing it, Sam”

And Sam sings.

You must remember this,

A kiss is just a kiss,

A sigh is just a sigh,

The fundamental things apply,

As time goes by...

It was impossible not to let your mind drift to those nights in Bogota. It was impossible to hear that song and not remember when…

Javier took a drag on his cigarette and took it to the ashtray, never taking his eyes off you. His half-open mouth was inviting, and his brown eyes scanned your entire body. Under the table, he nudged the space between your feet with the tip of his shoe, and you slowly spread your legs - just as he wanted. The sideways smile made you understand his intentions. It was already too hot to take it.

“As time goes by” played on the vinyl record. The closer he got, the more you felt the heat take over your entire body. His knee was already between your legs. Left hand on the table. Right on the arm of the chair. And his face was so close you could taste his scent.

You moved closer too, running your hand over his right thigh. The fabric of his pants was chafing against his skin, and you could see in the low light of the room the outline of his cock, so hard and throbbing at the same rhythm that your hand moved up and down his leg.

Javier placed the hand that had been on the table on your neck, smoothing. He guided your face so that your faces were closer together. You took the courage to face him, stare at his eyes, and then the first thing you found was his long lashes fluttering over his cheek, mustache molding his cupid bow and the inviting lips.

"Do you want this?" he whispered. Your whole body shivered.

“Yes, Javi. I want you” You muttered, playing with your fingernail over the fabric of his thigh, feeling that wetness between your legs.

"Are you sure?" He arched his eyebrows. “Because I promise you, that if you let me, I will give you something that will haunt you”

“You can be more explicit if you want to haunt me, Mr. Peña” You teased.

Javi liked it a lot. The next minute, his hands moved up your skirt until he found your folds, but then he stopped. You locked your leg muscles around his hand as an instinct.

"Such a classy slut, aren't you?" He was close to your cunt, but didn't move a finger. "I will reformulate then: you will never fuck another man again." He moved his hand from your neck to your jawline, grabbing it. “You will make sex, but you will never be fucked again. Because if you let me do all the things I want with you, you will wish I was your first, only, and last. Do you understand, girl?”

You couldn't make a word, so you just whimpered.

In the next instant, your lips were glued together in a messy, wet, desperate kiss as you walked to the bed. His mustache rubbing against your skin made you shiver. You were hurriedly pulling at the fabric of his suit, trying to find the buttons. Javier ran his hands over your body, hurried, wild, and then he went down to the curve of your ass. He pulled you even closer, making your bodies stick even more and his cock, already hard, touched your skin through the fabric. You can't help but moan into his lips at the feeling that he was so thick, so eloquent, just as you had imagined.

When you finally unbuttoned the first buttons, Javier was with a transparent white shirt only, and you couldn't help but run your hand over that beautiful part of his body that you've admired for days and days: the thick neck, the scarred collarbone, and the tanned chest so hotly erotic.

When his heels touched the edge of the bed, he sat up, and you remained standing. You could only admire it, his mouth hanging open, hair and clothes messed up, and thighs so thick inside his pants – that was definitely your weak spot.

He pulled you by the hips until his face was right in front of your waist. His left hand ran down your back for the zipper on your dress, and you helped him take it off. When the fabric hit the floor, you stared at his puppy eyes, shocked and mesmerized. Your lingerie set was so beautiful and covered your body but at the same time brought out the best in your curves.

"Even in my wildest dreams, I never imagined a body like that…" He looked at you, up and down, burning with desire.

"It's yours to keep," You said, holding the curls at the back of his neck and leaning his torso forward until his face was close to your breasts. "I want to be haunted, poor man. I want to feel you tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after…" You teased, knowing how powerful your words were because you looked down and saw how desperate Javier was.

He pulls you by the hip so that you sit on his thighs. When your ass-cheeks touched his skin, he gently ran his hand over your thighs, admiring the lace fabric that covered it. Javier was mesmerized. You saw how hard he was, begging for you, but you knew he wanted to enjoy every second. But your cunt was also begging for him, your mouth was thirsty from the sight and you couldn't help rush things. It was torture.

“Oh, classy girl…” He moaned into your ear, “You will haunt me…”

His left hand grabbed your panties by your waist, and you lifted a little so he could take them. A thread of your glisten connected your body to the fabric, and Javier smirked with the view.

But Javier was a caring, concerned man. And he would take care of you first, always putting you before himself. Behind the frown of a stressed-out forty-year-old, there was a man who just wanted to see you cum and melt in his hands for nights and nights, until you physically and psychologically couldn't take it anymore, falling from exhaustion and ecstasy over his body. About him, it was orgasmic enough to see you dying of pleasure. He was more passionate than selfish.

“Lay on your back” Javier whispered, and you did as he was told. You felt a little shy to be in such a revealing position, in full light, but his looks on you made you feel safer. Javier held onto your knees, making you spread your legs. "Did you want to hide it from me?"

Bogota's air was cold compared to how hot your cunt was. He left a small groan escape when he saw how wet you were.

"What a crime it would be to not let me see your fucking wet pussy, so fucking beautiful" He moaned "Fuck…"

He gave you a sincere and dirty smile as he began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the most pleasurable vision of your entire life. His shoulders were broader than you'd imagined, and his tanned skin glowed in the orange light of the room. You noticed his hard, small nipples and his round lil belly. The v line marked the way down to his belt, where you noticed the outline of his cock - you could even see how veiny it was. Your cunt throbbed, and you tried to hold on a moan - but failed.

"That's the kind of power that I have over you, hm?" He got on his knees on the floor, smiling. You saw his face through the v space between your thighs. “Look at you, dripping that fucking little cunt at the sight of my body,” He says that in a very confident way, but you noticed that he was hypnotized by how glistening your lips were, also dripping at the sight of your body.

“Not in my wildest dreams…” You repeat between moans and smiles. The pressure was too much, so you unconsciously tried to perk your nipples but they were covered by the lace.

“Take your bra for me, classy girl.”

You did. Involuntary, you stretched your legs. As a response, Javier crawled to you, until he was face to face with you. He positioned his knee between your thighs, feeling the juices that you had dropped staining his tailored pains. He gave a small kiss and then crawled back to face your chest. “Mierda…” He groans. Your whole body trembles when you feel the warmth of his breath and the friction of his mustache at the valley of your breasts. God, you could be forever like this: laying down, feeling desirable, feeling like a goddess.

You never felt like this before. You could cum by just looking at how this magnificent man wanted to eat you out.

You arched your back when he touched your belly with his nose, spreading kisses on your skin. Surprisingly, when he licked it, he grabbed a little of your belly rolls with his teeth, making you somehow scream, moan and groan at the same time. You felt shy for a moment for being so sensitive.

He lifted his head to you. "Okay sweet girl?"

“Yes,” You answered, breathless.

“I remember how I could see it beneath your beautiful dresses when you were sitting by my side.” He kissed exactly where he bited… "Always dreaming about kissing you up and down, not even caring what the men were saying, just you and your pretty ass in my mind"

You saw his frown and his smirk and got on your elbows to look at him. The swing of your breasts hypnotized him.

"I think YOU will be the one that will never fuck another person again." You teased. “You always treat your ladies like that? Or am I the only one whose skin is being praised by your lips?”

Javi ignored you. He grabs your thighs and opens your legs, distributing kisses over that part inside of your thigh. As a consequence, his cheek touched your trembling small lips, and, shit, he groaned. You had no idea what he was about to do, but you were loving it. You never read it in any magazine that men could kiss your intimate parties in such a freaky way. Maybe it was a Javier thing since your husband did not. However, the last thing that you could think of while Javier in a quick, small, wet, and cold gesture licked between your lips was your husband. You whimper loud and grab a bit of his hair as a response when the tip of his tongue gently sways along some part of your cunt right above your mound.

"Fucking good, mierd" He groaned between your thighs, feeling your legs muscles getting weaker in his hands. Javier put his face closer, making his nose touch that exact part that was trembling while his tongue, in a quickie second, slid into your warmth.

It was too much to take. His breath coming through his nose right into that special place, his big and wide tongue making circles inside of you, and his mustache flicking everywhere, even some of his teeth making some friction. He was hungry, wild like he never tasted anything like that before. And you were paralyzed, screaming, muscles- Oh God,

Your legs shake, your heart races and you had no idea why you were feeling like this from a simple touch in that special part that you didn't even know where exactly it was, but thank God he knew it because at the next second, you were melting in a relaxed - eager but somehow also and peaceful - way, which felt like your soul just connected to your bones for a while, just to be separated again as soon as his mouth got away from you.

“Maybe you are right, classy girl” He licked his lips, and laid back on his thigh. He was breathless, and you saw his tummy touching and arching over the edge of the bed as he breathed. “I don't think I'll ever find a cunt that tastes so good…” The words disappear slowly. You laughed with pride, breathless.

Steve had never made you feel like this before: amazingly powerful.

"What does it taste like?"

He bites his lips and is positioned once again between his legs. You knew that look. He was going to make you cum harder than ever, you knew it.

“Bittersweet... and strawberry”

God, you were wet just thinking of it. You wonder if anyone noticed, your lost eyes and trembling hands, remembering such inappropriate things in a public place.

But you couldn't help going back to your mind again, when…

You had cum two times already. He had used his fingers and his fine mouth on you, but you still needed more. Everything that this man could give to you, you wanted. Anything, even something cursed or irrational. You felt like you could give your life to him that moment, for the way your heart was beating, breaking, living. Living as you've never before.

Oh God, he knew it. Because he had your hips in his hands, his knees on the mattress, his forehead on a frown while his bottom lip was bitten. And he looked absolutely divine, like all of his muscles were twitching, nervous with the fact that he was about to be inside you in a second.

And just like that, he ripped you. The head of his cock reached something inside you, like it was your edge, as every part of your anatomy was made for him. Like a part of you were missing till this time, when he filled you.

Javier slowly slides into you once again, besides his primal and wild look, paying attention to how your expressions were. He guides himself in and out, very slowly, delicately, admiring how your swollen lips were eating him out, how your breasts were swaying.

"Why are you quiet, classy girl?" He asks. You just stare at him, confused. You thought your moans were loud enough, but it seems like it wasn't. "You're so used to it, right? To be fucked so slowly, faking it? That's how your husband does it?"

"Javier…" You groaned, angry with him for bringing Steve to the situation but at the same time even more horny.

As a response, Javier beings to thrust inside you harder and harder, one two three so many fucking times in a row until you were both shaking and trembling, and yet one of you could stop. You moaned so loud, something like a pleasured scream and Javier grabbed the inside of your knee to hold your leg at his waist and crawled forward to you until your knees almost touching your shoulders and he was with his weight all above you, looking inside your eyes, with his cock filling and ripping you and you couldn't help make all the screams and sobs and grunts that he wanted you to.

“You like the way I fuck you like a whore” You smiled with his words. Your hands touched his hair but you were too weak to hold it. He felt the muscle in your leg go rigid against his palm, knowing full well you were barely holding on. “Look at you, fucking melting in me…” He said smiling. But you noticed, his knees shaking, his breathing quickening. It was coming for him too. “Oh, mierda…” he grunts.

And God, it felt so ghostly and surreal to be fitted perfectly with him. There was something so dreamy about being so complete, so doomed because to give him everything you were finally to be everything you ever wanted to be. And fuck, that's all sex, right? Was the emotion, the adrenaline, the eagerness, or maybe something else?

He pressed his sweaty forehead to yours and impulsively pressed his lips against yours. It was the last part left for him to be completely connected with you, making you open your mouth unconsciously, like a symptom of the charge of physical emotion you knew was coming.

In a second, you moaned louder than ever and every muscle in your body locked in a single feeling of fulfilled desire. You were melted and shivering. You found Javier's eyes admiring you, his mouth swollen, his hair disheveled, his mustache out of order.

Javier came out of you fast, and that's when you felt the emptiness, the normal, natural, incomplete mess again. He came in strong white ropes at the mattress, pumping himself so he could let it all go.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he turned his head to the side to face you, as if he knew he was back to being himself and you were back to being you, but you both weren't the same anymore. A part of each was shared, something inexplicable and surreal.

The music was still playing.

Javier looked at your open legs still trembling, your lips swollen and red. He smiled, his eyes fading and his nose arching. You've never seen him smile like that.

Javier appears through the left door, stunned and looking for that excruciating sound. When he realized what it was, he adjusted his suit and tried to regain his strength and elegance, even if he wanted to break the whole place. He ran to the piano. Samuel finished singing:

No matter what the future brings,

As time goes by.

Javier slams down hard on the piano table, glaring at the pianist. A lock of hair fell over his furrowed brow.

“Sam, I thought I told you never to play…” The words fade away delicately when he sees you. Sam stops playing.

Nothing in this world would prepare him for those seconds when your eyes met, after so long. Even after fights with assassins and challenges with authorities, after working as a puppet against a system that was rebuilt every day, after nights and empty whiskey bottles, nothing made his heart stop seeing you again. As beautiful, elegant, magnificent as when you were in love with him.

But what he didn't know was that you still were truly deeply in love with him. And looking at him like that, surprised and scared, could made you regret asking Sam to play that music. However, your heart did not regret anything.

In fact, you were happier and more restless than ever to see the eyes that admired you like no other, the body that once belonged to you and the soul that inhabited it - your counterpart in this earthly hell, after all the times he got inside you and your spirits seemed to embrace, only to separate in the afterglow, amid fluids and accelerated hearts.

Meet him again, what a ghostly scene.

Part 2

--

[theseventhhex]

DJ Muggs Interview

DJ Muggs

Legendary hip-hop producer and Cypress Hill founder DJ Muggs has released his highly anticipated album ‘Dia Del Asesinato’. The album includes collaborations with DOOM, Raekwon, Freddie Gibbs, Kool G Rap, Meyhem Lauren, Mach-Hommy, Hus Kingpin, and Eto. Furthermore, the album comes on the heels of Muggs' hot streak of collab-projects with Meyhem Lauren including 2017's ‘Gems from the Equinox’ and this year's ‘Frozen Angels EP’. ‘Dia Del Asesinato’ is a conceptual album with an underlying theme of hip-hop combating corruption in society and government. Simply put, this record exemplifies an extraordinary talent sharing his musical undertakings with intellectual minds and unswervingly being able to summon remarkable and innovative music. Muggs’ willingness for origination is refreshing and essential, drawing on engaging experiences and always genuinely connecting to his audience… The Seventh Hex talks to DJ Muggs about dark beats, technological advancements and the pyramids of Giza…

TSH: Your terrific consistency continues with the awesome ‘Dia del Asesinato’. As you started work on this album, was it once again an instinctual case of doing what feels right and no preplanning?

Muggs: It was, yes. I had like 75 songs and in ways I was intent on using them all. I just wanted to create and I wasn’t putting too much thought into what would come out of it. All in all, there was definitely a lot of effort being put in. I was just in the lab putting in the hours and it all came about pretty naturally.

TSH: What’s the dynamic like when you go into your studio and you’re sampling from your own samples with so many to sift through and choose from?

Muggs: You know, none of this feels like work to me. I am blessed, man! I get to wake up every day and create art on my own terms, in my own time and in my own space - I’m blessed to live this kind of existence. I go into my studio five days a week and come up with different ideas. Sometimes I go through samples or I make beats, other times I work on atmosphere and pace - it’s always changing. I make sure I’m not a hamster on a wheel - I do something every day. Eventually, I’ll sit back with all these pieces, flip the process and I start putting the record together with my chosen names and my vision in mind.

TSH: Do you feel like your dark beats are embedded within you?

Muggs: The dark beats are what I’m all about - I spit them out without any thought and without even trying - it’s this natural energy that runs through me.

TSH: You’ve also alluded to the rawness of New York’s streets back in the day - how you feel this still exists and you even try to tap into this in the studio...

Muggs: Absolutely. You know, I feel like this raw energy exists within me. I can look at a picture and I can remember and go back to certain space. I can also listen to a song and feel it on a deep level. I feel like I’m living with this past energy that I miss and it will always be a part of me. I can tap into it at will and pull from there.

TSH: You had the legendary Kool G Rap and the iconic MF DOOM on board for ‘Assassination Day’. What was the process like in bringing this track together?

Muggs: Man, this track was pretty fucking easy. Having Kool G on board is always special because he can sound modern over anything. Also, I’ve known DOOM since 1988. We were even in a 3rd Bass video together in 1989 for the track called ‘Steppin' to the A.M.’ - we were riding in the back of a car. I actually hadn’t seen him in a while but when I reached out to him for this record, we chopped it up real quick and that shit was done quick.

TSH: You flew out to Barcelona to see DOOM and soon discovered that your chemistry resulted in you both being on the same wavelength...

Muggs: Absolutely. I flew out to Europe and sat in the studio with him for a few days. We did a bunch of shit together, and there’s still more to come. Also, DOOM is a producer too so he just understands shit from all angles. DOOM loved the dark and menacing tracks I had and he’d been looking to hop on to that kind of style for a while. A lot of times DOOM’s raps are pretty upbeat, but I just kept him dark and dirty with my beats. I was bringing to mind night time New York - walking through an alley with a gritty feel.

TSH: What resonates with you most with a track like ‘Yacht Party’?

Muggs: Yo, this track just simply makes me feel like I’m on a fucking yacht having a party! When I met up with Raekwon for this one, we were just talking and I told him that this shit makes me envision a yacht party with some big Hefe shit and some big narcos shit going down. Kind of like where all the big drug-dealers come together on a yacht and talk business.

TSH: Having observed the technological advancements in the music industry over the years, do you embrace the changes?

Muggs: You know, the industry as a whole and the business side of things is so different now. It’s a way different beast to what it used to be. You know what it is though; I’m my own industry and business at this time. I guess technology has its pros and cons but it’s all’s about finding a healthy balance. Technology actually helps me to be able to go direct to the fans and the consumer without needing music distribution. Also, now I shoot all of my own videos, I take my own pictures and I maintain control over my overall vision. I don’t have to wait for a director or have budget concerns. Back in the day when we did the artwork, we had to fuckin FedEx the artwork, now I get it in a second. Overall, I embrace technology because I don’t have to deal with dumbass donkeys on my team when I have a project in the works. Instead, I have a team full of smart guys and everything flows like it’s supposed to.

TSH: Given all the bedlam in the world and negativity coming from all angles, how do you like to obtain a positive headspace?

Muggs: I just play with my dogs, man. Also, I love spending time with my kids, hitting the gym or having a good conversation and good laughs with my friends. I mostly spend my time in my studio. My studio is like a clubhouse; sometimes we don’t even work. Various artists comes there and hang out, it’s a space where all these masterful minds can come together and bring all these thoughts and ideas together in one place and conjure up some awesome shit.

TSH: You recently spent a night in the king’s chambers in the pyramids of Giza. What was this experience like?

Muggs: Pretty fucking amazing! The shit that I experienced in there I really can’t speak about, but it was fucking mind-blowing. At first I was kind of apprehensive and a little nervous about going in because no cameras are allowed so I snuck my phone in, but it was on 5% battery walking in. But yeah, once I was in there I sat there and meditated and had some interesting visions.

TSH: What’s satisfied you most with regards to your way of working on this record?

Muggs: Just the fact that I’ve had fun, man. It’s just great to get into the studio with some amazing names and learn from them. As much as a master I am, you’ve got to constantly be a student and I just continue to learn. Whenever I share time with amazing artists with great minds, I talk to them and I get to learn and explore further. Every time I learn something new, I realise how much I don’t know.

TSH: Finally, What is your biggest drive with your future musical endeavours as you look ahead?

Muggs: My biggest drive is to explore the unknown. I want to unravel the mysteries that are going to be out in front of me. I want to do things that I haven’t done before and work with new talent that inspires me. I have to stay open and remain non-judgmental, but always remember to have fun and bring good energy to the table. I‘ll continue to learn, but I also want to teach others that reach out to me and come around me. I want to be the type of energy that comes into a room and makes everybody better with my presence.

DJ MUGGS - “Assassination Day (feat. MF Doom & Kool G Rap)”

DJ MUGGS - “Death Wish feat. Freddie Gibbs”

Soul Assassins: Dia Del Asesinato

[930club]

ALBUM REVIEW: Migos - Culture II

When it comes to Migos, you get what you expect. When I say that I mean, before diving headfirst into the second edition of Migos’ definitive claim of “culture,” I expected to hear that classic Migos sound. Twerkloaded beats, iconic producers, iconic features, catchy hooks, and an entirely autotuned album.

Is that what I got? Absolutely.

Was I disappointed? No...

Only because I knew what to expect.

Culture II is Migos’ third studio LP, and the follow-up to their critically acclaimed Culture. Because of that, it’s impossible to discuss Culture II without talking about it in relationship to its predecessor. Culture II is decent, but it is definitely not an improvement from Culture. Culture came equipped with everything that Culture II did, except their hottest single leading into it was “Bad and Boujee,” which was the first time either Migos or Lil Uzi Vert earned a #1 spot on the Billboard Top 100. Talk about securing the bag. At the time, and even still, Migos was the talk of the nation. Carrying all of that hype and then blessing the streets with fresh album tracks like “T-Shirt,” “Slippery,” and “Get Right Witcha,” Culture had iconic gems that I know twenty years down the road, I’ll ask my kids, “Whatchu know about this?” Culture II, eh, not so much.

The singles that led us to this album were “Motorsport” and “Stir Fry.” “Motorsport,” to me, sounds like “Bad and Boujee[’s]” little brother: catchy and definitely high on the Richter scale, but not nearly as earth shattering as “Bad and Boujee.” I mean, even The Roots were jamming out to “Bad and Boujee” on Jimmy Kimmel Live! “Motorsport” is just Migos going through the motions, which is how most of this album feels. “Stir Fry,” on the other hand, is Migos on a different kind of production. It’s got the literal bells and whistles of club banger, guaranteed to get everyone off the wall and on the floor. I was surprised to hear Migos rap on something other than a traditional trap beat, but hearing them on such an unmistakably Pharrell production is not only refreshing, but badly needed. Even though I strongly dislikedespise the Calvin Harris produced “Slide,” I was still excited to see Migos branching out of their familiar formula and experimenting with some different sounds. But don’t expect it to be there on Culture II. It’s pretty much all the same.

A few tracks do stand out to me, though. “BBO,” “Emoji a Chain,” “Narcos,” and “Flooded” are the ones I would say to pay attention to. “BBO” features 21 Savage, who carries the hook, and I’ll chock it up there as a major party anthem. “Emoji a Chain” just has one of the most ridiculous titles, and the song does it justice. The flow on the hook is bouncy and absurdly catchy. Just like on “Bad and Boujee,” Offset carries this track. “Ice out the gang, Make a emoji a chain” is guaranteed to be quoted at every function for the next few months. Offset also does the hook for “Flooded,” which I think was one of the hardest tracks on the album. It’s got a gangster hook with a gritty piano backing and a rimshot instead of a snare, whichthat just whips your neck so much harder than the cliché bell snare you hear everywhere. “Narcos” is my favorite track on the album. It’s funny and the production on there is thematic. Offset and Quavo tag-team the hook this time around and it just meshes so well over the Latin trap. I can’t stop saying “snubnose with potatoes.”

Even though I’ve mentioned Offset and Quavo a lot, I don’t want to leave Takeoff out. He consistently comes hard with every verse this album, and Migos definitely learned their lesson from “Bad and Boujee” and made sure Takeoff hads a verse on every one of the major hits. His flow, delivery, and especially his voice, complement each track really well, and I’m glad to see him hold it down this time around. A lot of people have been talking down on him since he got left off their last major hit, but he made sure to shut every hater up on Culture II. “Made Men” is the pinnacle of Takeoff’s shine on this album. The production is smooth, classy, and the best part: not a trap beat. It’s also placed well in the album; it slows everything down after you’ve been swinging your dreads the whole time. Takeoff also gets a shot at the hook and gives us a really smooth bop. Honestly, after this album, I want to see more Takeoff features and maybe even a solo Takeoff project.

But not every song is great, unfortunately. “Work Hard” sounds like a throwaway, especially since the beat sounds like a spinoff of “Gyalchester.” It’s supposed to be motivational inspirational, but the message of dropping out of school might not be the best way to be an inspiration. Then “Open it Up” is basically the same song as “Deadz” with nearly the same hook, adlibs and everything, except “Uh ooh, fresh out the bed, Uh ooh, count out the dead” is a better hook than “Uh ooh, open it up, Uh ooh, criss cross jump.” I’m still wondering why they thought it was ok to throw that one in the mix. “Walk It Talk It” is tricky. I say to look out for it because it’s got that coveted Drake feature and I can see the twitter dance videos will undoubtedly pouring in for this one the way that Quavo delivers the hook, but personally, I can see this track getting played out really fast and getting annoying even faster. But hey, I can only speculate.

Overall, Culture II is a pretty good project. Migos has been in the game long enough for me to expect heat on the album, and they didn’t disappoint. The album is long and probably would have had better reception if it was twelve tracks instead of twenty-four. By the time I hit the twentieth song on the first run through, I was exhausted, but on the second go-‘round, I could manage. Culture II is really a playlist Migos gave for us to picking and choosinge which songs fit your mood at the time. Now what I want from Migos is a break. Slow down, and start thinking about bringing in some different themes. Bandos and icy chains are cool, but eventually, they’re going to run out of new ways to talk about them. Culture II didn’t receive the same praise as the first, and Migos knows. Perhaps this means that Culture III will be three times better.

-Kian Kelley-Chung