#la quica

[borntogotohell]

food i'd give to the narcos's character. part 1

pacho herrera:

enjoy, king!

steve murphy:

also 'id give him cosy blanket. steve needs to rest

la quica:

no comments

pablo escobar:

I don't like Pablo very much, but I appreciate how he treats his kids and wife

javier peña:

you have such a beautiful smile, i hope you'll like it

[garckam7]

I love this guy 😻

[pedgito]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | Javier Pena x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | this is my own entry for the summer lovin' challenge, somehow torturing myself further by writing a fic amongst all my other wips and helping organize this challenge. there's sweaty javi p and office sex, that's all you need to know.

content warning | heavy smut, teasing upon teasing upon teasing, lots of mentions of heat/sweat, perfect use of ice in a situation like this, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, public-ish sex

word count — 5k

You curse quietly over your second paper cut of the day, nursing your pointer finger between your lips and silently reprimanding yourself for agreeing to help Steve—he was good at begging, you could give him that, and a hell of a sweet talker when he wanted to be. He always wore you down, a promise of coffee every day for a week on him, or lunch the following day, anything to sweeten the deal. This time it was neither.

“I rescheduled twice already,” He’s pointed out the reasons on his fingers, extending them out as he numbers them and using his finger to add emphasis as he pressed down on them as he went, “we finally have someone to watch Olivia for us this evening, and you know, you won’t even be alone—Pena’s staying late.”

He wiggled his three fingers like it was the best deal you’ve ever been offered, a smile growing on his face as he attempted to pass over the file that you took with reluctance, blowing out a puff of air and clutching it to your chest, arms crossed over the manila folder as you glance at your dainty watch—four in the afternoon. Not bad. Not great, either. You’ve stayed later—given your commute is only about five minutes. You tended to pick up the slack, for everyone, but mostly those boys. You weren’t sure how it ended up this way, but even Carillo acknowledged it. 

You did grunt work, small and miniscule things in the lives of two DEA agents who were out in the field hunting a notorious cartel leader every day—but you, you were dealing with papercuts and carpal tunnel, it wasn’t nearly as comparable.

And Javier Pena made sure to remind you every chance he had.

You pluck at the group of files labeled La Quica and El Limon, a hefty collection of data that has been compiled for the past several months and felt never ending—you were nearing the point of understanding every piece of information in this room back to front, knowing far too much about the cartel than you originally intended. It was terrifying; even seeing the look on either of the men’s faces when they returned back from a hard day of busts and undercover work.

And, maybe Javier just figured you didn’t care or wouldn’t be able to comprehend half of what was stored away in these files—but he sure wasn’t quiet about it.

It’s been around an hour now, tearing through the unorganized mess that the file room had become.

Mumbling the names under your breath as you drag your finger over the sticky note and kneeling down until your practically on all fours, digging through a box on the floor with your head tucked and oblivious to Javier as he rounds the corner to the secluded room, heavy footsteps falling on deaf ears, too entranced in the task to notice him.

He clears his throat with distinction and your head snaps up, looking clearly disturbed and annoyed—Javier offers a superficial smile and points a finger at the pile on the floor, his shoulder leaned against one of the tall shelves holding boxes upon boxes of crucial information.

Your eyebrows raise in expectation, head shaking slightly at him as you urge him to speak and get on with whatever comment he was dying to make as he continued to stare down, licking his lips briefly before they finally part and—

“Those the files we’ve been asking for?”

That Steve has been asking for—Not Javier, never Javier. He’s too macho and mighty for paperwork and sitting at a desk all day.

“It is part of them,” You say with emphasis, “I still have an entire section to go through. Steve asked me to pull everything we have on those two.”

“Well, everyone’s leaving—and I know where most of the shit is. I got it, you can head out.”

You seethe, jaw clenched and your eyebrow furrows as you stand, a pile of strewn papers in your arms.

“You know, instead of going through Steve to have me fetch the stuff you need—I don’t know, you could just man up and ask me directly.”

He has no idea what you’re talking about.

Except, he does.

He’s shoved off work to Steve who was enough of a pushover for his friend and partner, to pick it up when he had time, but this time it had landed on a busy day, a busy weekend, there just wasn’t enough time for him to handle it. 

“La Quica, El Limon—Carillo was talking to you about them this morning. What’s got you so tied up that you couldn’t handle it yourself?” You ask accusatory, back turned to him as you walk toward the table in the center of the room.

“We’ve got leads to check out, muñequita.” 

Out of your wheelhouse. Yeah—Okay, that explains it.

You roll your eyes at the nickname and drop the stack with a distinct thunk before moving past him, narrowly avoiding his broad shoulders as you walk past him, through the half-open door as you grab for one of the styrofoam cups on the water dispenser before spooning the ice into it and filling it with water, sipping with a distinct look of disdain as you eye Javier up and down, seeing that he’s followed you over, half in the doorway and half out.

“If you’re going to stand there the least you could do is help me,” You tell him, “that way we can both get out of here faster and not have to spend any more time together than we need to.”

“It’ll be faster if I do it myself,” He tells you, a metaphorical shoo-ing away as he nods toward the stairwell at the end of the hall, “I know this room like the back of my hand.”

“Have you been in here lately? It’s a mess. No one ever puts anything back in the right spot.” 

Javier’s got his signature pout on, looking downtrodden and pathetic behind his thick mustache perched on his upper lip, the constant look of being unimpressed by everything.

“I’m not leaving, Javier. You’re welcome to help, stay late, whatever—but I’ve been in this room, in this heat for an hour already and you’re not about to swoop in and snatch the credit for something you couldn’t be bothered doing yourself in the first place, alright?”

Javier looks surprised at that, not as much by the bite in your tone but the lack of snide comment, not calling him an asshole or a prick and storming off. Again, you brush past him with your drink in hand and take your seat, feeling the thin layer of sweat covering your body—it wasn’t that unbearable, but another hour and you would be a hell of a lot more crankier.

“Fine—” You respond, eyes tracking elsewhere as he moves form his place against the open door, only catching the lingering shadow of the door as it closed until it was far too late, “fuck, Javi! The—”

A loud click and Javier’s reaction time, given his ability to pull out a gun and have it propped at the ready in half a second, is far too slow. He turns, seeing the now closed door and turns back to you.

“Door,” You say, voice falling flat.

Javier backtracks and heads for the door, hoping and praying this was one of the days it wouldn’t lock—it was a tricky thing. Only working half of the time. Luckily, any other time it was during the day, surrounded by people who could help. But, now—it’s the two of you and no one else.

If you were pissed at Javier before, you were fuming now.

He jiggles the doorknob. Nothing. Fist pounding against the door. Nothing.

A quick shout out to anyone. Anything. Hoping someone would still be near.

Nothing. Not a sound.

“We’re stuck,” You sneer at him, “—sit down or that jiggling is going to drive me insane.”

He kicks the door for good measure, hoping by some miracle it might actually pop open.

You huff out an exhausted laugh under your breath and spread your hands out over the files, sorting out the important information and pictures from the notes and extra files that weren’t really needed. Javier approaches slowly and you take a sip of the water, thankful that you were at least able to reward yourself with that before you ended up in this mess.

Javier takes a look at his own watch and clicked his tongue before resigning to the fact that things weren’t going to go his way, dancing his fingers along the edge of the table as he took a seat, fingertips pressed into the surface as he settled, watching you casually under the flickering overhead light.

A few minutes slowly turn into several, quiet aside from the occasional shuffling of paper or sips of your water and you find that when no one else is around, Javier isn’t a total asshole. There’s no harsh quip or snide comment being lobbed your way but you can also tell that he’s just as frustrated as you, knowing that he needed to sift through this intel too.

But, the heat was sweltering—so distracting and despite the setting sun outside, had you reaching for a few buttons on your blouse as you leaned back, sighing as you picked up an empty file folder and fanned yourself in earnest, exposing your neck as you hung your head back.

You don’t hear Javier, but you feel him. His eyes on you as you lift your head back up.

Bewilderment. Annoyance. You can’t place it in the moment, he doesn’t even speak. But, you find yourself responding anyway.

“What? It’s hot.”

Javier throws a casual hand up in defense but his eyes follow your hand as they descend into your styrofoam cup, water long gone but the ice standing strong. You take a piece and cup it in your palm before rubbing it over your neck, instantly sighing at the crisp cold touch of it against your skin and aptly ignoring how it drips down the valley of your breasts, looking up to catch Javier at just the right time, his eyes looked on your movements and more pointedly—your chest.

“Here, try it,” You tell him, noticing the sheen of sweat on his neck, “it helps.”

He plucks a cigarette out of his half-empty pack and places it between his lips.

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, “ You shrug, but quickly lean forward to pluck the cigarette from his mouth and place it down on the table, “–hey, can you not?”

Javier looks at you in disbelief, snatching the cigarette off the table and tucking it away anyways.

“You smoke in this place all day, you can at least wait until we’re out of here.”

“Do you ever loosen up?” Javier pokes at you daringly, “I mean, what does it really take for you to pull that skirt out of your ass?”

“Not you,” You reply sharply, a smile spreading across your face, “but, putting away the cigarette is a start.”

Javier leans back in the chair with a dignified sigh, scratching at his forehead in frustration at the lack of progress and the fact that he literally has no way out of here.

“You know, he’s been off the grid for three weeks,” You speak out loud, knowing that Javier is well aware, “is there really anything in here that is going to help? Or is it just that all of the leads are dead?”

His demeanor breaks slightly, a shuffle in his shoulders as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Both—maybe. This shit is probably pointless.”

“And that’s why you wanted me to take care of it,” You respond conclusively, “but you’re impatient—you don’t have to argue with me, I know you are.”

“Really, muñequita, you think you know me so well?” Javier asks testingly, tongue swiping over his bottom lip, “What else do you know about me?”

“That you like your ego boosted,” You retort, “and I’m not about to do that. So—”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Javier says with a smirk, eyes glinting with a faint, creeping darkness.

“Shut up,” You say in a clipped town before looking around curiously, “and what are we supposed to do now? Sleep here? I really can’t believe you fucking locked us in.”

“No, no—” Javier's finger wags in a motion that makes you want to bite them off, jaw clenching forcefully, “if you hadn’t wasted so much time then maybe we could have flagged down someone.”

“Okay, but you still let that door close.”

Once again, both arms crossed over your chest, a staredown is initiated. 

It wasn’t the first, it wasn’t the last, but you wanted to ruin him.

Knock him down a beg—hell, kick him off the pedestal and wipe the goddamn floor with him.

That stupid smirk, the boiling tone of cockiness wrapped in self-righteousness.

“Don’t think too hard, cariño.”

You huff out a half-impressed laugh and organize the files after a moment, stacking them to the side and reaching into your cup for another piece of your melting ice, repeating the same motion as earlier as you slide the ice between your breasts, but with the immense amount of eye contact you didn’t give Javier the first time.

Stubborn girl. He knew that much about you.

Javier doesn’t break immediately, but the small flex in his jaw, the slightest of cracks in his hard exterior.

Attack. Attack. Attack.

You wipe your arm against your sleeve, subconsciously pressing your breasts together in the process and Javier looks like he might keel over, eyes flicking up to meet your gaze now—he’s been caught. Gazing. Admiring. Seering to his memory for a later time.

You’re not really sure but you’re not going to let him off easy either.

“Now, Pena—Don’t think too hard.” You tell him in a sickly sweet tone, “It’s just a pair of tits.”

I don’t bite—you want to add. But, you don’t.

Because even if you found Javier attractive…there was just no way. 

No. Not possible.

“What is it?” Javier asks curiously, seemingly snapped out of his stupor, and meeting your gaze like he hadn’t just been staring directly at your breasts for far too long. “About me, I mean?”

You raise an eyebrow, finger circling the styrofoam cup as you center on the table.

“What?” You ask with a soft laugh of disbelief. “It’s—it isn’t your looks, Javier. It’s all of you. You undermine me, you treat me like a fucking lap dog. I might be a bitch but—I am not your bitch.”

He wasn’t expecting that intense of a response, it felt even more eerie as your tone continued on steadily. He considers interrupting but you continue, holding a finger up to stop him.

“You know—I transferred here to help with the assignment, collect the intel and take down Pablo Escobar just like you, but for some reason, you seem to think I’m just a personal assistant. Or one of the few receptionists who all want to throw themselves at you.”

“There something wrong with that?”

You roll your eyes in silence, but the gesture is loud.

“Did I say there was?” You counter, “I think the problem for you is that it isn’t me. That someone might actually find you repulsive, right?”

Javier only looks slightly dumb-founded, following your movements as you stand and fetch the stack of files, returning them to their make-shift home for the moment, buried away on a shelf that could be reorganized later—he turns in his chair, glaring right back at you when you turn on your heels. 

“Your legs don’t work?” You ask him, nodding toward thfew smaller stacks of files scattered about the table, “If you want to get the work done so bad, clean up—or do you want me to—”

“I. Got it.” Javier responds stiffly, standing on his own two feet. He scoops up the remaining files and puts them away opposite of the shelf you had, resting a palm on an empty spot as you lean back to pick up a stray piece of paper. “But, don’t act like I don’t see you kissing Carillo’s—”

You stand and shove the paper into his chest, “Finish that sentence and you will regret it, Javier.”

“It’s alright. No shame in your game and all that.”

Fuck this.

You reach for the cup of melted ice, splashing it promptly in Javier’s face before crushing the cup in your hand out of frustration, a moment of frozen realization coming to you.

Had you actually just done that?

Javier blinks, looking down at his soaked front before promptly removing his jacket in haste watching as you slowly back away, slightly disturbed by his calmness until he’s rearing on you.

Slowly—oh, so fucking slow. 

Your chest rises in slow, deep breaths and is nearly hanging off your shoulders by now, riddled with red, hot rage.

“Tell me I don’t make you even a little bit nervous, muñequita.” 

Is this a challenge? Is this what he’s worried about?

“You don’t.”

Your response is quick, but you find yourself pressed against a file cabinet and a few inches of free space before he’s right there—so close you can feel the heat of his body, your heart races slightly.

Okay, maybe just…a little.

“Again,” Javier beckons, a sneer to his tone as he crowds you in—“Look at me and say it.”

And for the love of god, the words never come.

“You let me flirt with you because you like it. Never correct me when I give you those little nicknames—look at you, you can’t even deny it.”

A half-truth. You didn’t mind it, but it wasn’t some sort of sustenance keeping you alive. Besides, it didn’t make up for half of the times he’s belittled you in front of your shared boss.

The heat is suffocating now and Javier’s eyes follow the trail of sweat down your neck, over your breasts, watching your fingers twitch at your side because—

Why do you feel the need to touch him so badly now?

To receive that touch in return and tenfold. 

“¿Qué pasa, pobrecita?” 

His fingers curl around the edge of the file cabinet behind you, barricading you between the wall and him and if you decided to show any signs of discomfort you knew Javier would back off in a heartbeat—you didn’t even need to say anything.

“Is that what it took?” You ask, voice soft in the small gap he’s created, eyes softening slightly as he hears you speak, “Being locked in here with me, nothing else to do—that’s what it takes for you to see me as anything other than some lowly little assistant to you?”

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” Javier says fondly, holding back a chuckle in his throat before his free hand is reaching for your neck and forcing your chin up and back, his thumb rubbing into the soft spot where your jaw twitches under his touch, swallowing hard.

“I thought you hated me.”

“I can say the same for you,” Javier responds, tilting his head slightly.

You’re so hot under his touch, skin clammy and wet from the ice and broken AC.

“I’m not saying I don’t.”

Javier presses his body against you slowly, your hands reaching for his shirt instinctively, curling into the fabric and feeling it stick to his skin, feel the weight of his chest against yours, and the very obvious strain of his slacks against your thin pencil skirt.

“And I never said I did,” Javier counters, “doesn’t change the fact that you get under my skin, querida.”

Javier leans in slow, that heavy eye contact never breaking until he’s there—nose pressed against your own and you sigh, breathing into his mouth as your eyes fall closed and he knows.

His lips are soft, careful. It feels like a test.

Your resolve melts in an instant, damning Javier for whatever spell he’s placed on you but you want more, hands skirting slowly up his front until they’re molding around his neck, kissing back with a similar eagerness, still laced in trepidation.

Things ramp up quickly, Javier’s fingers finding the edge of your shirt where it’s tucked into your skirt, pulling it free and squeezing at your sides, forcing your ass down against his knee from where it's tucked between your legs, somehow finding its way there in the chaos.

“Jav—Javier,” You breathe, pulling away, “maybe—maybe this isn’t the best place…”

Your eyes trail toward the camera tucked away in the corner of the room, knowing that it had to have some pretty damning evidence by this point—the list was long and you tried not to think about it for too long before Javier’s voice is pulling you back.

“That thing hasn’t worked in weeks,” He reassures and the flickering light above dims slightly, almost on cue, “are you scared of getting caught?”

You shake your head slowly and his smile grows, lips pressed against your own as he speaks and his hands tight at your hips, pressing your core right at the center of his thigh and pushing your skirt up until it’s bunched over your ass. You throb at the pressure, breathing out shakily.

“Then let go, muñequita,” He coos.

You hum, breath catching as he pushes his thigh up, your hips instinctively rocking against the pressure and if the heat weren’t already overwhelming, you would’ve passed out from that alone.

“It’s cute,” His hands aid your movement, a slow but steady rock of your hips as you furrow your brow at his voice, “—yeah that, you do that little thing with your brow whenever I talk to you.”

“Because I can’t s—stand you,” You voice falters, feeling him pick up the pace slightly to match your sudden eagerness, months without a proper sexual partner outside of yourself and you couldn’t help but be just a little bit more open to the idea of fucking someone who wasn’t your first option, or second—not even your last. Javier was nowhere on your list, actually. 

But, here he was. Offering himself over to you.

Besides, you had an entire night stuck alone with him—it wasn’t the worst way to entertain yourselves.

“Doesn’t seem that way right now,” Javier counters, his ego shining through.

“Stop. Talking.” You plead, hands pulling at the seam of buttons on his shirt, pulling at it roughly in two quick, forceful movements until it splits open, mangling some of the buttons in the process but if upsets him, he doesn’t say a word.

Instead, he rips it away just as quick, pulling his leg away to descend to his knees, pushing your blouse up your chest until he can reach bare skin, mouthing at the soft skin of your stomach and—christ, it’s distracting. He yanks at the short zipper on your skirt, making a small noise of happy acknowledgement when he’s able to get it undone and pull your skirt down the rest of the way, breath hot over your underwear as he stares up at you, fingers curled around the thread at your hips.

You nod silently and he presses his mouth against your center, teasing kisses along your inner thighs that slowly turn into playful bites until you’re nearly squirming, begging with a softer version of his name that you never tried to let him catch you using.

“Javi, please.”

He pulls your panties down your legs, over your heels and to the floor with little care, too focused on settling your leg over his shoulder before a hand is curling over the top of your thigh, fingertips digging in as he licks a broad stripe through the center of your pussy, his other hand balled into the fabric of your shirt and you need less—less clothing, less restriction.

You fumble with your buttons, head falling back against the metal of the filing cabinet with a sigh as the tip of his tongue slides over your clit and down, a motion he repeats several times in your poor attempts to undress and chuckles against you when you curse, finally getting your top unbuttoned and letting it sag at your shoulders, your fingers buried in his hair as he groans, lapping at you eagerly as his hand rises blindly until he can squeeze at your breast.

You moan loudly, instinctively covering your mouth at the sound as Javier pulls back in subtle shock himself, surprised that you allowed yourself to be so vocal about how he was affecting you.

“Not a fucking word, Javi.” You berate him, pushing a finger into his forehead gently which he takes in stride, laughing quietly.

“No one is here.” He reminds you, “Listen.”

And you do, Javier slowly rising to his feet and pressing his lips against the side of your neck, working at his belt in time, shucking his pants open just enough for you to slip your hand into his boxers, gripping his cock tight in your hand—still, absolute silence.

“Let me fuck you,” Javier begs—begs with fervor, his breath hot against your ear, “please?”

You nod jerkily, feeling him settle his slacks just low enough that they aren’t a nuisance and pulling the thigh that was resting over his shoulder around his hip, his fingers digging into your ass as you tug at him testingly, enjoying the look on his face when you squeeze a little harder than he’s expecting, enjoying the heavy weight of him in your hand.

“Oh, I can fuck that hate right out, querida ” Javier admonishes, “don’t try me.”

“I dare you,” You challenge him, using your free hand to pull at the hair at the nape of his neck, earning a soft grunt in return, “—just remember to pull out, yeah?”

Javier full on snorts at that, a noise muffled into your neck when he leans forward, guiding himself to press against your cunt before he sinks in, both of your momentary hostility turning to full bliss.

His hand curves around the back of your head, a simple gesture but maybe more of a warning, his hips snapping into you suddenly, quickly, jostling you against the hard surface. He was protecting your head from the sharp edge of the cabinet and you almost laughed at the thought, but his impatient, fevered movements are sending you into a spiral, eyes rolling back.

“Stay with me,” He teases softly, lips at the base of your neck,  “want you to look at me while I fuck you.”

And you do, boldly, despite how your heart races. You let your body do the work, shutting your mind off for the moment—the hesitation, the worry, the regret that would hit you five minutes after this was over. 

You don’t remember it feeling like this, either. The full body sensation, his gaze heating you from the inside out, your thumb slipping over his bottom lip curiously, his teeth biting down gently on the digit as he fucks you deeper into the surface of the cabinet, if that was possible. 

There are no words, just sounds—moans that could be heard across the bullpen if someone was close enough and Javier, who is plenty vocal and has shown himself to be, can’t even form words, grunting with every few sharp snaps of his hips, fucking you so thouroughly it aches.

“Touch yourself,” He instructs, “let me see, muñequita. Wanna know.”

It doesn’t matter if he’s thought about it before—or, if somewhere in the deep, dark shadows of your mind that you might have had the same thought about him too.

There is no convincing, feeling yourself so on the edge already that it wouldn’t take much. And it doesn’t, your hand descending until your fingers graze over your clit, steadily bringing yourself closer and closer, legs shaking under Javi’s grip until he has to bear most of your weight as you come, blunt fingernails digging into his shoulder as you cry out. And he’s there too, so close and hanging on by a thread, the unsteady thrust of his hips a tell-tale sign.

Your heart is racing, mind too, and the words that come out aren’t anything of rational thinking.

“In my mouth,” You tell him, sounding more earnest than you ever have.

“You sure?”

You laugh through the exhaustion.

“Are you really questioning that?”

He shakes his head in amusement before he’s patting the back of your neck gently and urging you to your knees, jerking himself into your open mouth a few seconds before he’s coming, somehow managing to keep the moment tender as he holds your chin and squeezes gently, watching you swallow down the heady taste of him with your eyes locked on his.

“So, what now?” You ask jokingly, taking the hand he offers to you after a moment of him tucking himself back into his jeans, cursing when you shoulder bumps a stack of files on the way up, dropping them to the floor in a pile. 

Javier fetches your clothes and hands them over, redressing himself before plucking at the files hastily.

You’re nearly dressed when you hear him curse behind you.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Hm?” You turn on your heels, busy tucking your shirt back into your skirt when you spot the item in his hands—a small gold key. “Well—don’t fucking stare at it. Try it.”

Javier approaches the door with quick footsteps, followed by your softer ones as you slip on your heels, gasping as the key turns in the lock and suddenly—the past couple of hours dissipates in an instant.

“Look at it this way,” Javier says lightly, “we’d still be stuck in here otherwise.”

Being that, if he hadn’t fucked you against the filing cabinet you’d be spending your night sleeping on the murky carpet of the file room floor—so, as usual, Javier Pena saves the day.

“Let me give you a ride home,” Javier suggests, “it’s the least I could do.”

“I live like three blocks away from—”

“Humor me?”

You chew at your bottom lip hesitantly.

Javier reaches forward suddenly, soothing the worry with his thumb.

“Pobrecita, if it isn’t all gone, we can try again?”

You slap his hand away gently, wordlessly taking his offer as you step past him, watching as his smile grows to a satisfied grin.

“You didn’t say no,” He adds.

Maybe he hadn’t fucked all of the hate out of you, but it was a start.

↝ special thanks to @undercoverpena for taking a look over this for me <3

↝ divider credit: yours truly.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Sickness and Health

A married!Javi Drabble based on this request

Series Masterlist

Rating: All fluff except for a few inappropriate words

A/N: I had to use this gif because I couldn’t think of anything for sick Javi. Just imagine he’s wiping his snot instead of his sweat (you’re welcome for the new mental association I’ve created)🤪. I got this request a month ago and I’m writing it only now 🙈 Sorry anon requester, but I hope you see this and like it 💜

I’ll be fine, he said. It’s just allergies, he said. My god querida, stop mothering me, he said. Yet here he was, flopped on the sofa with a leg on the floor as he snored. The man never came home before her. There were times when he’d come home briefly in the morning to shower and put on a fresh set of clothes before bolting out the door with nothing to spare her other than a rushed kiss. And now here he was at 5 PM, sleeping.

She placed a hand on his forehead, wincing when she found him burning up. Not to say she told him so, but she told him so. But he would hear none of it. The man dropped her off at work with the promise that he’d take an Advil if he needed before driving away to the embassy. He probably forgot. Or his promise was made just to placate her, stop her from being the nagging wife.

She didn’t quite know how to do it, the wife thing. Was she supposed to force a pill down his throat? Would she be the annoying nagging wife men talked shit about to their friends if she did? Was she supposed to leave him be? Would she be a bad wife for neglecting him and letting him go to work ill?

Knowing the man, he probably didn’t have anything to eat. His only intake was whiskey and tobacco from all the smoking he did. Was she supposed to pack him lunch? Send food to the embassy? She didn’t know. He never asked for anything and was happy to eat what she gave him when he came home. She provided dinner, leaving it on the table and leaving a note on his bed reminding him to eat it. Sometimes she managed to force a glass of OJ into his hand in the morning. But that was all. Lunch was a big question mark. What he ate when in Medellin was a blind spot.

Retrieving some chicken, carrot, celery and broth from the refrigerator, she got to work. With some time, spices and low music playing on the radio, the soup was ready to be served.

She poured some into a bowl, placed it on the coffee table and hovered over him. Beads of sweat had collected on his forehead, either from the hot weather or his sickness. Messy black hair stuck to his forehead and she reached over and pushed it back.

“Javi…”

Nothing. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook gently. “Javi?” He stayed still as a rock. Goddamn. The man usually woke up at the slightest noise. A bullet could leave a gun two miles away and he would hear it. It was rare that he slept at all, so when he did, she did everything in her power to keep his surroundings quiet.

“Mi amor…” she called, caressing his sweat soaked forehead. “Come on, get up. You need to eat something.”

He trembled under her touch and whined something incomprehensible. She tried again, called his name while giving gentle rubs to his shoulders. “…hurts.”

“I know, baby. I know,” she said, smiling at his half-awake form. He looked so sweet like this, so innocent and childlike. She wanted to pick him up like he was a puppy and give him a million kisses. He might be a big bad federal agent but sleeping on their couch like this, he was her little puppy.

“… ‘s the paperwork and…Wysession…la Quica…umm and yeah what do I think?” He mumbled, making her laugh. This fucker would not survive without his job. It took a few more tries and sweet words, some of which embarrassing enough that she’d never repeat to him if he were awake. His eyes opened a little, his mumbling about work dimmed down and he spoke her name.

“Yeah. It’s me. Get up. I made soup. You should have some, have a Tylenol and sleep on the bed. Okay?”

“What time is it?” He asked, sitting up suddenly.

“Six thirty three.” The man always wanted the exact time. No rounding up or down. It was unnerving.

He buried his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes with the flat of his palms. “Fuck. Got an early meeting at eight with Noonan. Gonna be late. She’ll kill me,” he said, getting up. He hunched over the couch, hand gripping on to the leather of the headrest for support as his other hand clutches his head.

“8 PM is not an early meeting. Unless you’re talking about a meeting scheduled for tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? Wait, what’s the time?”

“Six thirty. In the evening. You have a bad fever and you were asleep on the couch when I got home at five.”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah. Fuck. Now sit down and have some soup. You can’t have Tylenol on an empty stomach.”

“Actually, I can. The body absorbs it faster on an empty stomach.”

“Alright buddy, sit down and have the soup,” she said, coaxing him to sit next to her on the couch. He sat a bit too close to her, leaning on her shoulder and placing his weight on her.

“Feel like absolute shit,” he said, dipping the spoon into the bowl of hot soup. He blew on it once and then twice before drinking it. “So good.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said, pulling her to his side. She did not want to contract whatever he had and proximity would increase the chances of infection. But she didn’t have the heart to push him away. Even on a normal day, the man liked physical contact with her. It could be anything from a hand on her back when they were out in public to full on cuddling her in bed. He just showed his affection through touch. She didn’t want to deny him affection when he was so vulnerable and soft.

He drank it down quietly, wincing every now and then from his headache. He even surprised her by asking for a second helping and she gave it to him gladly, even topping his bowl up another time when he wasn’t looking.

“Now Tylenol.”

“Nooo,” he whined, flopping back on the backrest of the couch. “Hate pills.”

She laughed and popped a pill out of the foil wrapper before handing a glass of water to him. “Aww, is the big baby afraid of pills?”

“Not scared,” he pouted and folded his arms over his chest, looking like a petulant three year old. Good god. Was this really the man being paid by the US government to catch Escobar? Or was he the secret sweet cuddly twin to her grumpy sassy Javi?

“Right. Definitely not scared. Now have it.”

“I’ll be fine without it. Just need to sleep.”

“Sure, Dr. Peña. If you say so,” she teased. She was definitely noting down all the details of his behavior in her head to tease him with later. “Can you have the liquid Tylenol?” She asked, recalling seeing a bottle of it in their medicine cabinet.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” she said, getting up to go fetch the Tylenol for him. Before she could step away, his hand wrapped around her wrist. She looked back at him to find him staring at her with those big brown eyes, all wide and precious. He was still grumpy, but less intimidating and more adorable. “I need to take my hand with me, Agente…”

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t go. I miss you.”

“It’ll just be gone for a minute. I’ll get you your Tylenol and be right back.” Huffing, he finally let go of her hand. When she returned, he smiled up at her lazily before grabbing both her wrists.

“Javi…I can’t give you your medicine if you don’t let go of my hand.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this too. There is no plan C, Javier. Pill or this,” she said, holding up the bottle of the liquid acetaminophen.

“That tastes like shit.”

“Yeah. You’ll survive.”

“I wooooon’t,” he whined, pulling her onto his lap. He may be very sick, but he was still strong and worse, unaware of how much force he exerted. She fell with her face forward, smushing into his chest. She made a low sound of satisfaction before wrapping his arms around her and settling his chin on her head.

“Bebito…”

“‘m not your bebito. I’m your husband.”

“Yeah yeah. Then stop acting like a bebito, bebito.”

“Don’t do this to me. That thing tastes vile. Tastes like shit. Like, like horse shit mixed in with rat poison.”

“God, you drama queen,” she teased, adjusting herself on his lap to sit up properly. “It’s just 20 ml. Have some of it, drink some water to wash the taste off and go to bed. God knows you need the rest.”

“Fine. On one condition.”

“Uh huh?”

“Bit of whiskey after the medicine.”

Absolutely not.

“Of course, baby. All the whiskey you want,” she lied through her sweet smile. She did not have the energy to argue with a gigantic baby she couldn’t yell at. She’d make him have the medicine first and figure out the rest when she had to.

At the mention of whiskey, he smiled wider than the day they got married and happily let go of her wrists. She hissed at the dull pain around them, flushing when she realized just how strong he was. Yet he never used such strength on her, handling her gentler than this even when she asked for rough treatment. She’d have to ask for more the next time… she looked away from him embarrassed. The man was sick and delirious, for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t the most appropriate time to be horny.

“Tilt your head back,” she ordered and he followed immediately, exposing his neck to her. “Now open your mouth,” she said, bringing the little cup of the liquid to his lips. It went alright for the first second, but when it touched his tastebuds, he gagged and groaned.

“Uhh that was fucking disgusting!”

“That was just 10 ml. You need another 10 for the full dosage.”

“No, no, no. Please don’t do this,” he begged before sticking his tongue out as though casting out the organ for making him experience the medicine’s taste.

“Please, Javier… Just one more, okay?” She said, pouring him the other half of the dose. “Imagine you’re taking a tequila shot.”

“Then it should be on your bellybutton with salt on your tits and a lemon wedge between your lips.”

Horndog

“Suuure. You couldn’t tell it was evening and not morning just half an hour back but you think you can do a body shot, huh?”

“Absolutely can. You didn’t know me in college. Plus I’ll do anything to lick your tits,” he said, his eyes looking too adorable for the things he said. Shouldn’t he be too sick to be horny?

“Alright big guy, open up” she said, tipping his chin back and forcing the rest of his medicine down his throat. He groaned and whined once more and summoned a couple demons with the sounds he produced.

“Tequila?” He asked, pouting as he fixed his puppy dog eyes on her.

“Sure. Go sit on the bed and I’ll bring you the goods,” she said, helping him get off the couch.

“Perfect. You’re the best wife, you know that?”

“I’m your only wife. You don’t have much else to compare me to, do you?”

“Fine, I’ll get more wives. Test the hypo- hypo…tenuse?” He asked, squinting.

“Hypothesis.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said hypotenuse. That’s the longest side of a right angled triangle.”

“The fuck,” he said under his breath, allowing her to lead him to their bedroom. When she’d gotten him to lie down, he pulled her to himself and held her to his chest. She was yet to have dinner and there was a tv program she’d wanted to watch before bed. But with his arms around her and his lips mumbling in his sleep, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

It wasn’t often that she got to be wrapped up in his arms at this early hour. Why fight it when she could savor it.

[lunitawrites]

Crossing Lines - a Javier Peña one shot

pairing: javier peña x f!reader rating: explicit word count: 3.9k summary: You spend your Christmas Eve interrogated by Javier Peña. TWs: power imbalance (Javi interrogates you), unprotected PiV, oral (f and m receiving), light smacking (tits, ass), pet names, cum play, cum eating, spitting, hair pulling, alcohol, cigarettes, some Spanish (see translations at the end), surprise cameo, no physical description of reader, no use of y/n a/n: This is dedicated to the lovely @milla-frenchy, hope you will enjoy, I certainly enjoyed writing it! Thank you for providing the best prompt! Thank you for the edit and beta-read: @jupiter-soups, you are an angel! masterlist

It’s Christmas fucking Eve and you are staring at the wall at the Medellín police station. Three hours dragged by as you were confined to a dim corridor with only the sounds of the faint hum of flickering fluorescent lights. You were brought in for an interrogation, but apparently no one actually had the time to talk to you, so you are left waiting in a creepy corridor for hours. You would leave if it wasn't for the young police officer left to watch every move of yours.

“So, where are they?” you break the silence.

“Who?” he asks with a thick accent.

“The actual adults?” you scoff “The ones I'm supposed to talk to,” you add after seeing his confusion.

"They are on the field; they should be back any minute," he replies, his eyes briefly darting towards the door at the end of the hallway.

“Gracias. Señor…” you pause, looking at him questioningly.

“Mi nombre es Trujillo” he introduces himself.

“En-fucking-cantada”  you say and bump your head at the wall behind you. The door creaks open and two men walk in; both of them dressed in military green shirts with tactical vests over them, hair damp with the humid Colombian night.

“Everything okay here?” the brown haired man asks Trujillo, jerking his head at you.

“We’re having the time of our lives,” you interject before he can answer.

“My name is Javier Peña and this is Steve Murphy,” he gestures to the taller, blond man “We will be with you in a minute.” he adds and starts to walk towards the stairs. “I bet you had a fun night, Tujillo” he calls back before he disappears.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. Trujillo, take her to Room 4” Murphy says and follows his partner upstairs.

–

Room 4 is a special room for interrogation with a two-way mirror on one wall, a worn out table and three chairs around it. You are sitting at the table with two empty chairs in front of you, waiting for the agents to arrive, again.

You don’t really need to think why they brought you in, you are pretty fucking sure it’s about your brother. Little do they know that you have not seen him in months, let alone talked to him since he got caught up with the cartel.

The door opens and Peña walks in with a fresh black shirt and jeans on, folders held tightly under his arms. He is handsome. Dark brown eyes, a strong jawline, a prominent nose, and a thick moustache above his plump lips that are curling up into a half smile as he greets you.

He sits on one of the chairs in front of you, lighting a cigarette and offering you one from a weathered package. You shake your head and instead raise your eyebrows questioningly.

“So, let's get started. Unless you wanted to celebrate Christmas with me,” you say.

“English or Spanish?” he asks, tired eyes searching your face.

“Los dos son buenos,” you say and lean back in your chair.

“Let's keep it in English then, so Murphy can understand too,” he says and you murmur a que mono under your breath which makes him chuckle softly.

“How come you speak such good English?” he asks.

“I grew up in the States with my dad, moved back here to live with my mom when he passed away,” you explain.

“To your mom and Andrés?” he asks, pulling out a picture of your brother from one of his folders. It's a shot of him from afar, talking to a guy known as ‘La Quica,’ one of Escobar's sicarios.

“Yes. He’s my brother. Half brother,” you confirm, staring at the picture blankly.

"The question is simple, hermosa. Where is he?" he asks, looking at you from beneath his brows, pointing at the picture. You don't miss how he tries to mask his own surprise, hearing the endearment slip out from his mouth. 

“Well, the answer is just as simple,” you lean in over the table. “I don’t fucking know,” you say, emphasizing each word.

You can see his frustration as he squeezes his lips together, brows furrowing in a deep scowl. He stamps out his cigarette and blows the last of the smoke out from his lungs.

“You don't understand,” he says, voice deep and raspy. “Where we find Andres, we find La Quica, and where we find La Quica, we find Escobar. Comprendes?”

“Well, I don't think I need a visual to understand that,” you say, “but, again, I can't tell you where he is, because I don't know where he is,” you repeat yourself.

“Fine. I have time” he says, standing up. He walks out of the room just to come back with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two glasses in his other, shutting the door with a nudge from his foot on the way back. He pours the whiskey into the glasses and places one before you, holding the other glass in his hand.

“What is this?” you ask, looking at the amber liquid.

“Well, if you are going to keep me here all night on Christmas, at least let me have a drink,” he says and holds out his glass towards yours.

“Very professional” you murmur, but clink your glass against his and down the drink in one go. He does the same and rises to refill both of your glasses.

“Do you ever just shut up?” he asks as he takes his seat.

“Only if someone makes me,” you murmur, feeling yourself throb between your legs at your own implication. He raises a single brow at that, but doesn't say anything. You suddenly feel your throat dry, and you quickly down your second drink as well. “I’m sorry that you don't have anyone to spend Christmas with, but it's not nice to kidnap someone just to entertain you.” 

“Entertain me?” he scoffs. “I can think of better ways to spend my Christmas, trust me.”

“If you would just let me go…,” you start, only to get immediately cut off.

“No. Not until you tell me where he is.”

“Okay. Then we’ll just stare at each other the whole fucking night,” you say while propping your legs up onto the table. You feel your skirt roll up your thighs, revealing more of your skin. “I’ll make myself comfortable.”

“I wouldn’t mind staring at that the whole night, cariño,” he says, eyes roaming over your legs, as he touches his bottom lip with his thumb.

This is wrong, so wrong, but he makes your clit twitch and you can feel your arousal beginning to pool out of you, wetting the lace of your underwear. “Staring, huh?” you press while reaching for his pack of cigarettes, placing one between your lips. You light it and blow out the smoke with a long sigh. “Is that the only thing you want to do, agent?” 

He stands up, his tight jeans hugging his narrow waist and black shirt stretching over his biceps as he walks over to you and takes the cigarette from your lips. He takes a long drag before tossing it to the ground and stomping it out. You can see the shape of his cock through his jeans, his arousal evident. You start salivating just at the look of it, wanting him in your mouth.

“Why don’t you get rid of those, agent Peña,” you say, brushing over the front of his jeans with your hand. “They seem awfully tight,” you tease.

“Careful,” he warns, despite the smirk visible under his moustache. He sweeps his pointer and middle finger over your lips, making them part. You look up at him, and can’t ignore the throbbing between your legs. “That's better,” he mutters. “Let's shut this mouth, then.” He pushes his fingers inside, almost reaching the back of your throat, making you gag a little. You feel the saliva collecting in the corner of your mouth almost spilling over your chin.

“Buena chica,” he murmurs, his touch continuing gently along your chin, tracing down your throat, and reaching the neckline of your shirt. A faint trail of moisture follows his fingers.

“Let's get rid of this,” he tugs on your shirt and you follow his order, eagerly undoing your buttons and revealing your lacy bra. He reacts with a low grunt and continues to work on your body, caressing your peaked nipples through the fabric of your bra, making you moan softly. 

“That's right, let me hear it,” he says and smacks your left breast lightly. “Open up for me” he taps on your legs, still propped up on the table. You lift your right leg up, holding it behind your knees, while placing your other foot on the table.

“Que linda,” he murmurs and brushes over your slit through your lace underwear. He kneels down placing small kisses on your clit over the fabric and sniffs in your smell, humming at the feeling of it. 

“Mmm, let me taste you,” he breathes, lifting you slightly to rid you of your panties.

He dives in to devour your heat, parting your lips with his tongue and darting it into your hole. He moves further, finding your clit and sucking into it in his mouth.  You sigh at that, feeling more of your arousal pool out of you. He hums into your cunt, leaving you with the feeling that he very much enjoys tasting you.

“Stand up for me, preciosa,” he asks and you happily obey, standing up and letting him unbuckle your bra and pulling your skirt up to your waist. After that he turns you and leans you over the table, pressing your hard nipples into wood, the edge of the table indenting your hips.

“Look at you, fucking beautiful,” you hear him say and smack your ass slightly letting it jiggle under his palm after. “Would you let me fuck you?” He asks, grabbing both sides of your waist, grinding himself to your ass, hard jeans scratching your skin, his length still in the confines of his jeans.

“Yes, please Javier,” you say and hear him grunt at the sound of his name from your lips.

“Call me Javi,” he says, unzipping his jeans, nudging your entrance with his hardness. You try to turn back to take a look at his cock, but he is pushing you down, flat on the table with the palm of his hand slowly reaching your neck to grab it from behind. You want him inside so badly, pushing your hips back eagerly, making his tip slide in your wet cunt.

“So impatient,” he says and you feel him spit down to your entrance and his cock, smearing it on himself. Please Javi, please, please, please, you find yourself reduced to begging, want taking over your body.

He enters you slowly, letting you get used to the stretch that is almost unbearable from the beginning. You let out a long sigh, and he grabs your waist again, while pushing his whole length into you at last.

You know he’s big, even without taking a glance at him. The stretch is something you never felt before. He stays still for a second, letting you adjust to his size. You’re impatient, wanting him to move already, so you push back again with your hips. You feel him easing his weight on you, trapping you against the table so you’re not able to move. 

“Can you be a good girl and stay still for me?” he asks and slowly backs out of you before thrusting back into you with full force. You gasp in unison, and you let him take the lead, slamming his full length in and out of you with a brutal pace. You mewl, filling the room with filthy noises both from your throat and your cunt.

He is hitting something deep inside you that so many have trouble to find, making the pleasure tighten in your stomach as he pushes you closer to the edge.

“Right there,” you say and he slides his palm back up to the back of your neck again. You never have this, you never climax just from penetration. The feeling is so foreign to you, an overwhelming sensation causing your walls to grip him even tighter. You are almost sucking him in and he must feel it too, because he is showering you with praises, telling you how good you’re doing, how he wants you to cum on his cock, how beautiful you look pressed against the table.

And then you feel it, something snapping inside of you, overtaking your whole body, shaking under his strong warm hands. You scream, making you hope that the room is soundproof as you remember that you’re being fucked in an interrogation room by a man you met just an hour ago. 

You feel dizzy, your blood rushing in your veins, making you deaf for a second, muting Javier’s grunts from behind. 

Where? You hear faintly. I’m gonna cum too, where do you want it? You barely hear him through the ringing in your ears.

“Inside,” you answer instinctually, wanting to feel him fill you up, twitching from arousal. “Please, inside” you repeat.

He suddenly lifts you up from the table, holding you incredibly close to him, one hand snaking to your front, grabbing one of your tits. You hear his low grunts as he begins to place open mouthed kisses on your neck, biting gently on your earlobe. You feel him twitch, painting your insides with his warm seed, making you feel full of his load, pumping it deep inside you.

He holds you still for a few seconds, letting your breathing calm down together, while he caresses the front of your neck, down to your sternum and over your breasts, brushing your nipples softly.

“Stay,” he says and removes himself from you, immediately replacing his cock with his finger. “We need to keep this in,” he adds and you hear him searching for something in the pile of clothes. “Let's put these back on hermosa,” he says and you can feel him tapping on your ankles for you to lift them as he puts your panties back on. You finish pulling them up and sit on the edge of the table. You squeeze your legs together trying to keep every drop of his cum inside you. You see him pull his jeans up, while you stay seated on the table, bare chested, having only your underwear on and your skirt crumpled up on your waist.

“Having fun without me?” you hear Murphy enter the room. You panic and start searching for the rest of your clothes, trying to cover yourself.

“Don't stop on my account.” he says, doing a double take at your bare body. You finally find your shirt and try to cover up with it without actually putting it on and sit back on one of the chairs.

“Could you maybe give us a minute?” you ask and look at Javi for help, but he seems to be enjoying the situation, rather than sharing your panic.

Murphy walks up to the table and swipes his fingers over the tabletop. He lifts them so you can see they are coated with your slick arousal and Javi’s cum.

“You should have at least cleaned up your mess,” he says with a smirk. “Or do you want me to do it?” he asks and lifts his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean off your shared arousal.

“What…,” you start, only to be interrupted by Steve.

“I was already jealous watching you from behind the mirror,” he says. “I like it better when Javi shares his toys with me.”

Your eyes flick to the two-way mirror on one side of the room. So he was watching all along. You feel embarrassed, but intrigued at the same time. You’ve never been the type to act so lewdly, but you find yourself enjoying it a lot

“I would have shared if you came in instead of watching us,” Javi adds with a dark chuckle and then turns to you “You would let us do that, cariño, right?”

You feel your blood rush to your face, but you nod silently. You would like that.

“I bet you’d like it if both of us took care of you. I don’t think it's too late, the only thing is, you would need to be cleaned up before. It's not only the table we left messy,” he says and jerks his head towards you.

“Let me see, baby” Steve murmurs and kneels before you, nudging your legs open. You let him open them and he pulls your underwear to the side. He grunts at the sight of your glistening cunt filled with Javi’s cum and messy with your own arousal. “This does need cleaning up. Can I do that for you?” he asks, searching your face. You nod, feeling yourself clench in anticipation, squeezing some of Javi’s cum out of you. He hums and starts licking the cum that's oozing out of you, cleaning up your outer lips first and the sensitive area between your two holes. You moan at the feeling, lifting your legs up, holding them under your knees to give him better access.

“That's our girl,” you hear Javi’s encouragement and feel his hand caressing your hair, your neck, before finally reaching your breasts to pinch one of your peaked nipples. You feel yourself pushing more of the cum out, making Steve swallow it down eagerly. He then parts your lips and starts fucking you with his tongue, drinking up all of the juices that he can reach. He’s not paying any particular attention to your clit, but you already feel close to your climax, the situation itself having you worked up.

“I can't reach everything, I need a little help,” Steve mutters as he inserts two of his fingers, slides them inside easily, curling and moving them in a way to help him reach all the cum that's left inside of you. You moan lewdly to that, feeling white hot ecstasy building up in you with an overwhelming intensity.

“I - I'm gonna cum,” you almost scream, having no control over your reaction to the sensations.

“Come on, cum for us,” Javi encourages, massaging your tits, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You feel your walls squeezing Steve’s fingers, your pleasure rising up and breaking through you with unknown force as you feel yourself gush onto Steve’s face, covering him with your warm liquids. 

“Fuck,” you breathe, vision spotty for a moment “I’m so sorry, I - I didn´t know I can do that” you admit.

“Such a bad girl,” you hear Steve laugh. “Making an even bigger mess when I try to clean her up.”

“Come on,” you hear Javi behind you and feel him tapping on your shoulders. ”Let's make it up to him.”

They guide you to the table again, helping you up on it. You lay your back against the cold wood, spreading your legs to Steve, who stands at the end of the table. You see him opening his zipper and taking out his erection. His cock is fully hard, probably longer than Javi’s, but not as girthy as his, having a slight curve towards the end. His tip is red, glistening with precum. You clench at the sight, wanting to have him inside of you as soon as possible.

“Please,” you whisper and turn your head to look at Javi. He is standing near your head, brushing your cheeks with the back of his hand. “You too,” you say and reach for the front of his jeans.

“You want me too, cariño?” he smiles and starts taking his cock out. You turn back to Steve seeing him getting ready at your entrance. 

“Please, fuck me!” you plead and he enters you in one swift motion, knocking the breath out of your lungs. The wet sounds of your cunt filling the room, having him grunt in pleasure. 

“Fuck yes,” you moan, turning your head to Javi to take him in your mouth while Steve continues pounding you with full force. Javi holds himself up at his base, so you part your lips and let him guide himself into you. You feel so full, having both of them moving in and out of you, Steve thrusting into your cunt, while Javi fucks your mouth. You moan around him, feeling tears collecting at your eyes, saliva drooling out of you as he continues to reach the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

“You’re doing so good for us,” you hear Steve praise you, “laid out on the table, taking us so well.”

“Do you like to be filled by the both of us, hermosa?” you hear Javi join in, brushing your hair out of your face and grabbing the damp hair at the base of your neck, holding your head in place so he has full control over how he uses your mouth.

You try to say yes, but you can’t, so you just hum around him, making him twitch in your mouth at the sensation.

“You’re so sexy, baby,” Steve mutters as his fingers find your clit, making small circles on your sensitive bud. You are close again, but you want the three of you to climax together, so you moan and tap Javi’s thigh asking him to remove himself from your mouth. He understands your sign and slides himself out of you for a second.

“I’m gonna cum, please, do it with me” you say in a raspy voice already opening your mouth for him again. He chuckles and inserts his cock again looking at Steve.

“Are you ready?” he asks Steve, placing his hand against your throat, feeling his cock through the sensitive skin there.

“Man, I’ve been ready to cum since I saw you fuck her,” he answers and pushes himself into you with quick thrusts, still working on your clit. You feel yourself grip him with your pussy, feeling so, so close, your walls tightening around him, sending him over the edge. He is  painting your insides with his warm cum, filling you up to the brim, while Javi’s load is trickling down your throat. You drink him up eagerly.

You feel sheer bliss jolting through you, all of your muscles tense, your body shaking from all the stimulation. You cum while they are pumping you full with their spend, your moans of satisfaction muffled by the cock in between your lips.

You turn your head, looking up at the ceiling while you catch your breath, while both of them caress your body, leaving goosebumps on your over-sensitive skin. You did so good, such a good girl, making both of us feel good, taking us so well;  you hear their praises from afar, while they help you down from the table and hand you your clothes, both of them kissing you on the crown of your head.

You get dressed slowly, having not quite returned to reality, your body tired and your mind fuzzy.

You clear your throat, looking up to meet Javi’s gaze. “You know,” you start “I really don't know where he is.”

He smiles at you, and then leans in to place a soft kiss on your mouth. “I know. I guess I really did need a little entertainment for Christmas,” he says and winks at you.

--

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

translations: Gracias. Señor - Thank you, Mr.. Mi nombre es Trujillo - My name is Trujillo En-fucking-cantada - Encantada means nice to meet you. En - fucking- cantada means that reader is fucking delighted to meet Trujillo Los dos son buenos - Both are good que mono - "mono" can refer to a foreigner (or light-haired person) in Colombian slang, so it basically means "what a foreigner" hermonsa - beautiful (used as an endearment) Comprendes? - Do you understand? Buena chica - Good girl Que linda - How pretty Preciosa - beautiful (used as an endearment) Cariño - sweetheart, darling

[milla-frenchy]

2k3 | Javi Peña x fem reader Summary/prompt: brat!tamer Javi puts reader in place after she’s been teasing him at the office all day. Warnings: 18+ mdni. secret relationship, semi public sex (office sex), oral (f/m), dirty talk, biting, unprotected piv, creampie. No age specified a/n: secret Santa with mutuals 🎄❤️ @multiversed-daydreamer I hope you'll enjoy these 2 brats 😊 Thank you for this prompt 👌🤌 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for beta-ing 💕🫶

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Masterlist | ao3

“Can you show me where the La Quica files are in the archives room, Steve?”

Javi rolled his eyes when he heard you. Since this morning, you’ve been trying to make him jealous any way possible.

You showed your painted nails to Steve (it’d been Javi who had chosen the nail polish - his favorite color - for you), you swayed your hips way too much, walking before Stechner in the hallway (while you were wearing Javi's favorite skirt, which he had bought for you, expressly asking you not to wear it at work), you brushed against Crosby's arm before pressing the elevator button to leave the office that afternoon (while Javi was a foot away from him, and right in front of you).

Several times, Javi gave you a look that seemed like a warning, but you offered him your best smile and redoubled your efforts to tease him even more.

You two had started a relationship a few weeks ago, and no one knew about it at the DEA’s office. Javi wanted to keep it that way.

You were supposed to see each other at the weekend but he canceled at the last minute, and today, on Monday, you wanted to make him a little jealous.

You were hoping that he would join you in your apartment tonight, to punish you (a little), and to make amends (a lot).

As Steve took you to the archives room to give you the La Quica file, Javi lit a cigarette before throwing his lighter on his desk. You couldn't help but smile, preceding Steve into the hallway, hoping that Javi was craning his neck to watch his coworker follow you. You knew Murphy didn't care about you, in love as he was with Connie, but he was still a great target to make Javi jealous.

The afternoon passed, and by the early evening the offices were practically empty. You cleaned up your desk and took La Quica's file to put it in the archives.

Just as you were putting it in the box, you heard the door open.

“Who’s there?”, you asked without getting an answer.

“Javi?”

You put the box back in its place and headed towards the door, when Javi appeared from behind a shelf. He smiled, the way a cat might smile before playing with a mouse.

“Have you enjoyed teasing me all day, Hermosa? I told you I didn’t want people to suspect anything about us.”

He turned towards the door and locked it, then moved closer to you, one slow step after another, his eyes fixed on yours. When he got close, you stepped back as he continued to advance towards you, until your back hit the wall. His piercing gaze made you lose your composure in a matter of moments, and yours was now moving from his eyes to his lips. His smirk made you melt, but you couldn't believe that he took the risk of locking himself in this room with you, even if there were only a few people left in the offices.

“What are we doing here, Javi?”

He leaned over you, pressing his cock against your pussy, his nose brushing against yours. He was so hard that you felt your pussy get wet instantly.

“I think you need a good lesson, Hermosa. Need me to put you in your place.”

“Oh really? Put me in my place, then, Javi. Make me shut up”, you dared him.

“I will. But you might moan a little.”

His face was so unimpressed, in complete control, that you stopped talking.

He released you and took a few steps back, slowly again.

“You wanna act like a brat? I'm gonna treat you like a brat. Get on your knees."

He undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. You moved closer to him and got on your knees immediately.

“You want it that bad? Suck it.”

You wanted to take his cock in your hand and jerk him off, but he pushed your hand away.

“I said, suck it.”

He grabbed his cock and then your neck and said “spit on it. And suck it.”

You let your saliva run down his cock, and he pressed your neck harder. You took the tip in your mouth, your lips rounding around his cock. You ran your tongue along the slit, and licked up the precum that was leaking out.

You heard him moan, and his hand tightened on your neck. Still holding his cock in his hand, he leaned his pelvis forward, forcing you to take him deeper in your mouth. He set his pace, thrusting in and then retreating slowly.

“This is what you needed, mmm? Me taking care of your attitude?”

He clenched your hair in his fist, keeping his other hand on your neck.

“Well Hermosa, you don’t seem to act like a smartass anymore, with that big cock stuffing your mouth?”

He released you and you caught your breath.

“You’ve been a very bad girl today, Hermosa. Wanted to make me jealous?”

“A little, yeah…”

“I am Chilean, bebé. I don't know what "a little jealous" is. You need to make it up now. Use your hands and suck it.”

You grabbed his cock and slid your tongue from your hand to his crown, slowly, looking up at him. You took the tip in your mouth, and started sucking on it, still jerking him gently.

“Come on Hermosa, take it deep in your mouth. You’re not gonna act shy because we’re at the office, are you? You weren’t shy when you were all over those men...”

Your groaned, and your tongue played with his tip one last time, still leaking with precum, and your mouth moved further down his shaft.

“That’s it, take it all now, like a good obedient girl.”

You grabbed his thighs with your hands, and you moved further down his shaft, slowly, so that your mouth and then your throat got used to his girth. Your nose in his pubic hair, you kept it at the back of your throat for a few seconds, your tongue pressed against his shaft.

“Fuck… yeah, that’s good. Your mouth feels so much nicer taking my cock, instead of flirting like a little slut all damn day.”

You moaned hearing him, and pulled back slowly, all the way to his tip, swirling your tongue over it, before pushing his cock fully into your mouth again. You felt his fingers tighten in your hair and he groaned.

You were sucking on his cock, your head bobbing up and down, giving him your all. You loved feeling him in your mouth, feeling that vein against which your tongue was sliding.

“You are so much more docile now, Hermosa.” He caressed your cheek, and added “Get up now, I’m not done with you.”

He grabbed your elbow to help you up, then he knelt down as well, facing your crotch. He lifted your skirt, revealing your panties. You heard him moan, then sigh heavily when he saw your swollen folds. The fabric was wet, and he couldn't help but sigh deeply one more time.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This pussy is so desperate to get fucked. But she’s gonna have to cry a little bit more before taking it.”

He came closer, his eyes fixed on your panties, and he licked the fabric with a long stroke. Then he grabbed one of your thighs, and hoisted it over his shoulder, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side. He tilted his head, and the tip of his tongue licked your pussy, slowly, up to your clit. He did it again, and you let your head fall back against the wall. This time, he let the tip of his tongue play with your clit, and your hands came to lose themselves in his dark curls. His mustache rubbed gently against your folds, and you moaned. He pulled back and looked up at you, smiling when he saw your face.

“I really shut you up this time Hermosa, and I didn’t even start really eating you out.” He dove in your pussy without giving you a chance to respond, spreading your folds with his thumbs and pushing his tongue into your soaked hole. This time you couldn't help but moan too loudly, and he pulled away saying “shhhh. Don’t make me stop. There are still people in the office.”

You looked down at him and nodded, and he slipped his middle finger into your pussy, still looking at you. He fingered you, and placed his lips against your clit, sucking it gently. He added a second finger in your pussy, and the tip of his tongue swirled against your clit.

Javi knew damn well how to make you cum. In a few weeks, he had become an expert. Whether by taking his time, to the point where you ended up begging him to make you cum, or in two minutes. You knew he wanted to make you unravel quickly, this time.

He turned his fingers upward, rubbing them against that squishy spot, and his tongue swirling faster against your clit, making you moan again. Your nails were lightly grazing his head. You whispered, “Javi…I’m gonna cum.”

He grunted, his lips still placed around your clit, and his tongue quickly playing with it. You came, the back of your hand pressed against your mouth to muffle a possible cry, your pussy contracting on his fingers. He placed his tongue against your clit, waiting for the jerks to stop. Always, he was waiting like this, his tongue poised, as if he was amused by the jolts of your little set of nerves.

He placed your leg back on the ground and stood up, catching you in the process as you reeled from your orgasm. He smiled and said, “I’m not done with you, Hermosa. I don't want you to play your little game again in a few days, and for that, you need a full lesson, don't you?”

He spread your feet with his, gripped your hair in his hand, pinning your head against the wall. Holding his cock, he rubbed it against your folds, under your skirt, before pushing inside, bottoming out in a single thrust. He buried his nose in your neck, growling against your skin as he felt your pussy spread for his cock.

“You’re so tight… you’re squeezing my cock so hard.”

“Fuck me Javi, please. Fuck me hard.”

“Damn, three days without taking this cock and you’re begging for it that much”, he said, grabbing your thighs in his hands, and lifting you so that you wrapped your legs around his waist. The position allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and each stroke hit your G spot. Your back against the wall, each thrust of his hips made you slam against it, as you were holding onto him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Still wanna tease all those men, baby? Just to get fucked in here, like a good little whore?”

Before you could try to respond, you heard someone walking down the hall, and Javi put his hand over your mouth, continuing to fuck you just as hard, as your eyes were fixed on each other. You licked the palm of his hand, and he shook his head still looking at you, frowning. The footsteps moved away, and he removed his hand, grabbed your throat and pressed your head against the wall, his gaze moving from your eyes to your lips.  You grabbed his wrist back, and squeezed it with your fingers, to make him squeeze your throat tighter.

He released your thighs and just as your feet hit the ground, he pulled out of you and grabbed your hips, spinning you around, to make you face the wall. 

You just had time to put your hands against it, when he was already lifting your skirt, and pressing his cock against your entrance, sinking in in one go.

“I’m gonna give it to you just like you wanted. Hard,”  he said, thrusting deeply in your core.

“Oh! F… fuck!”

The thrusts of his hips sped up, pinning you against the wall each time he thrust into you. 

He bit your shoulder lightly, and his grunts turned you on more and more. His hands gripped your hips tightly, helping him thrust deeper. Wanting to feel him even more, you tilted your ass back, so that the angle would allow him to hit your g-spot with each stroke.

“What are you doing, little brat? Wanna come on this cock?”

“Yes Javi, please, I’m so close...”

He squeezed your hair in his fist, and said “you think you deserve this?” still thrusting deep into you with every stoke.

“Yes!! Please, Javi”

“No more brat attitude at work?”

“No… I promise.”

He bit your shoulder again, and repeatedly hit the spot you needed, saying “I want you to come on it baby, give me another one. I want another one.” You came a second time, hearing him.

“Fuck… Hermosa. You pussy is squeezing me so hard… Keep coming on my cock, fuck…”

Your voice trembling, you said “come in my pussy, Javi. Fill me up. Wanna feel you shoot your cum in me, please…”

He grunted again, before you felt the pulsing of his cock as he expelled his cum inside you.

He released his fingers' grip on your hips, stroking them where they had been pressed seconds before, and kissed where he had bitten you, still buried in your cunt. Both of you regained your senses for a few minutes, your breathing gradually returning to normal.

He pulled out and got dressed, while you put your panties and skirt back in place. He looked at you while fastening his belt, then said “don’t forget your promise, Hermosa.”

You looked at him, gave him your best smile, and said “and not getting fucked like that in this room again? Come on Javi…"

You went to open the door, a smile on your face, feeling his cum making your already soaked panties even wetter, and heard his long sigh when you brushed against him.

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

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[ficjoelispunk]

Ch 04 - ATTACK

You can find the continuation here

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Author's Note: Guys, I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, don't give up on me, translating is not easy, but I did my best. Correct me as much as you can. Thanks.

That was a mistake. That was a mistake. That was a mistake. That was a mistake.

Your head was looping. Maybe if you repeated it enough times, you would believe it.

But the truth is, you could never forget that kiss. Javier's lips in yours. The way he held you. The way he kissed you, as if you were something he needed. As if you were something he wanted.

Oh, God.

His smell on your clothes was something very dangerous for your brain. And you were completely wet. Your clit sore. You were tight around nothing. Needing it. In need of something. But you convinced yourself not to touch yourself, thinking of Javier Peña, with the excuse that this would not fortify your crazy feelings for him.

Bullshit.

How would you work the next morning, in the same environment as this man? You would burn.

Idiot.

That was the effect he had on women. And that was the effect you had avoided for years working in the department. How can you surrender to something so carnal?!

***

Luckily, the sector was full of work. The connections with complaints began to have pranks. What was terrible. But there were also reliable complaints. So the agents were busy in the tactical, on the streets. Checking the clues.

But your joy was fleeting.

"I need a favor" Peña was next to your table, serious and closed.

You jumped out of your chair in a fright. Closing your eyes.

Your stomach froze. Okay, a favor, which favor? Rub my needy body in yours as if I were desperate for sex?

But oddly enough, Javier was so inexpressive that you came to think that the episode in the archive room could have been a dream.

You blinked, thinking, it even seems that a kiss would make Javier Peña present some kind of feeling. It was surprising that he didn't play cash notes at you after the kiss.

Like, hey, don't worry, take your payment here.

You scratched your nose.

"Ok..." You smashed your eyes, wetting your lips, waiting for the continuation.

"We received a complaint about a possible location of La Quica, but I can't ask the Colonel to release us a team, to check a place just because they bought a toilet like the one Escobar used in La Catedral"

"A toilet?" You blinked at him.

"I need the request to reach Centra Spike for the plane to fly over the area to see if we can capture any listening, and confirm some location.”

"A listening, about a toilet?" You looked at him over his eyelashes.

He snorted, and looked away from you.

"Do you need an authorization for a listening on a toilet?" You couldn't help the smile on your face.

Javier looked at you with his eyes fixed, nervous. The way he's always been with you.

And here we go.

There was Agent Peña you knew. Insolent. That's what you wanted to think. But you could only see how nervous he was. And it was hard, because you felt comfortable dealing with the asshole, not with this man full of feelings.

"Sorry, I don't know if..."

"It's very important!" He leaned over your desk.

"Everything is very important"

"I don't have time for jokes"

"I'm not kidding, I'm working, who needs a listener to a toilet is you, not me"

"It’s. Important." He said slowly "you know what La Quica represents, don't be stupid"

You are shocked.

"Don't be stupid, taking your frustrations out on me"

"Sorry... I... really didn't want to..." he closed his eyes, after listening and scaling what he himself just said to you.

Honesty. Did Javier Peña have anything but horniness inside him? That was new.

"I imagine it is. I really imagine. But I can't release another request for you urgently, when you left here a few days ago, with a team and found a doll with the President's face."

He closed his eyes. And took a deep breath. Lowering his head. Disappointed with himself.

"Sorry" you said in a lower tone.

"I really need this requirement, shit" he hit lightly on your table, speaking more to himself, than to you. It was a thought out loud. Visibly exhausted, in this dog and cat hunt.

He walked away from your desk. Running your hands over your face.

You pulled the air through your mouth, to speak. But he hesitated. He roused his lips.

He looked at you, his eyes sad and tired. In the end he knew you were pondering correctly. Javier and Murphy were aware that the latest events were not favoring both of them.

"Go to Centra Spike, I'll send the application"

He paused processing, then grew at least 10 centimeters recovering his posture with his speech. And taking steps backwards while maintaining eye contact with you. He seemed a little discredited that you would help him.

Javier stopped halfway.

Then he returned to your desk in a hurry, leaned over to reach your gaze that was already on the typewriter filling out the form. You looked at him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

You nodded.

"Go" you murmured.

Sh it.

You would need to do a self-analysis. If what happened last night was affecting your judgment. This could interfere with an entire operation.

What were you talking about? It was just a kiss. For God's sake. Pull yourself together.

***

Well, with you receiving the Ambassador's demands, you could hear the listening. After all, you needed to register them to send them to Bogotá.

So basically listening to the toilet, led the agents to an address, which was possibly the place where Pablo Escobar was living with his family.

Nice toilet, isn't it?

You, Agent Murphy, Agent Peña and Messina, evaluated the satellite photo of the place where the wiretaps were captured.

"Which of the sites has access from the east and west?" Messina asked.

Murphy indicated in the image.

"It's big and luxurious, it has access on both sides, it could only be that, it's Escobar's style," Peña added.

"We can attack from both sides," Murphy suggested.

"What about Pinzón?" Peña asked if directing to you "we need vehicles and agents"

You nodded.

"Leave Pinzón with me."

Murphy and Peña looked at each other.

You half closed your eyes to them, angry at the doubt of your ability passing through their small brains.

Peña shrugged. And you left.

In cases like this, you could ignore some protocols, and go straight to the source. Instead of filling out application forms and waiting for them to be evaluated, you went directly to talk to Colonel Pinzón.

"I'm not going to release any men for you, your agents captured President George Bush the last time they left with my team"

"They were based on complaints, this time we have listening to Velasco's voice," you explained calmly.

"You think my men work for you, and your American agents, but the reality is that I say how we can work together, they are different things. I'm not going to release any operation. You need to pay attention to your forms"

You wanted to assault this little colonel of the fifth category. But you knew that the humiliation could be much greater, in other ways.

You already knew what to do.

Unfortunately, your way back to his table had to go through Agents Murphy and Peña.

"What did he say?" Peña asked, following your walk with your eyes, as soon as you pointed in the hallway.

"He said no," you replied without looking at him and kept walking.

Murphy and Peña looked at each other. And they snorted.

"I knew it" Murphy threw a briefcase on the table "With this pretty little face, and this sweet voice, she will never achieve anything with these colonels, the Ambassador is crazy leaving this keychain taking care of things around here, we are fucked."

Peña didn't say anything, and frowned at his partner. He knew that your quick mouth wasn't just to provoke him. You were competent enough. He needed to trust you.

"Give her a chance," Penha murmured to Murphy who rolled his eyes.

Everyone works for someone. That was your reasoning.

So you called your boss Crosby. And Crosby called President Gaviria. And in less than 15 minutes, Colonel Pinzón was kissing the canvas without you having to move a muscle against his ugly face.

Javier tried to contain his smile when you arrived with the news, but he was too proud of you to contain himself.

Murphy and he left for the preparations for the operation.

Before passing by you, he stopped.

"Good job." He murmured.

"I do my best." You murmured.

And they left.

You were confident. Waiting. Aflita. Writhing for not receiving any call from the radio informing. Were they in prison at that moment? Could it be that at that moment a war had started?

You walked from one side to the other. I couldn't sleep until they came back.

When they returned. From their face, you knew it hadn't been this time.

You sighed.

You saw Peña, Murphy and Messina disappointed from afar. You decided that it was not a good time for questions.

Peña's eyes found your from afar, you could know everything he would like to say just by looking.

It wasn't this time, and now it's going to be much worse.

That's what his eyes said. In all these years following this persecution against Pablo, you knew that every time they were close, and failed, the next chapter would be worse. You were still in the city of Escobar. That thought shuddered you. You swallowed it dry.

He looked away. And you nodded.

***

And there it was.

Your sixth sense has never failed. And Pablo Escobar was predictable.

A few days after the operation. A move outside the Academy made the whole department run out.

Cars with injured police officers wouldn't stop arriving. Cops shot. Others without an arm. No leg. Concrete dust ash.

We suffered an attack.

You were walking in the middle of at least 40 wounded. Your eyes are wide. Your body was shaking. Your stomach chewed you. You felt like throwing up. With the nervousness, anxiety and that whole scene before your eyes.

All this because you requested an operation in the dead of night for Pablo Escobar's house, which was failed, between Pablo's attempts at negotiations and the politicians.

You used to hear people screaming. Helicopters landing. Ambulance sirens. It seemed like you were going to faint as you circled around yourself looking at that whole war scene.

Javier held your arms, stopping you. You jumped in a fright.

"All right, it's me," he said looking into his eyes.

You blinked desperately, while your body trembled.

"C’mon, let's get you out of here," he ran his arm over your shoulder, and was guiding you in. "It's going to be okay," he murmured repeatedly in his ear.

Javier knew there was no place for you there. You would never be prepared for a field scene like this. His place was inside the office, solving bureaucracy and dealing with politicians.

You came in, and Javier took you to a quiet room, he closed the door behind you, and dragged a chair for you.

"It's my fault" you spoke with your eyes glazed in nothing, your hands restless, as you sat down.

"Stop this” he shook his head.

"All these men..." you swallowed it dry, "it's my fault"

"It's not your fault. Look at me" Javier crouched in front of him holding his face in his hands.

You didn't have the opportunity to talk so that he could tell you how the operation had been. They themselves reported together with Colonel Pinzón, to Crosby, and you also did not go after him after starting side conversations on the subject.

"Pinzón faltered, and acted like an amateur, he could arrive quietly, but he missed turning on the sirens so that everyone knew we were coming. Pablo saw it, and had time to run away. You did an excellent job. You got everything we needed," he added.

"And then everyone died" his voice failed.

Javier's eyes danced through his face.

How would Javier explain to you and your sweet heart that that was not great things and you were exaggerating without hurting your feelings and seeming that he had already seen and killed so many people that he could no longer sympathize?

"Look at me" he pulled his face at him.

You looked. And the comfort that his touch brought to you, made your eyes water.

Ok. Ok. Don't cry. Don't cry in front of the DEA agent who has no heart and will find you emotionally unstable.

"Escobar kills about 400 police officers a year, all fucking year, this is not your fault, it's Pinzón's attitude, are you listening to me?"

You nodded to him, your eyes wet.

"It's not your fault," he repeated.

You nodded again.

But what crossed your mind was that you would be fired by the end of the day at the latest. You breathed irregularly. Your body was out of control. You had spasms and chills.

"You're in shock. I'll get you some water" Peña got up, and left.

And you allowed yourself to cry. Alone, until he came back.

You silently thanked him for being there with you, and getting you out of the middle of all that. You couldn't stand that. It wasn't part of your job. Things were going in a way that you didn't have much control over.

But Javier Peña gave you some kind of security and comfort. It had been a few years since you worked together, and between slaps and now kisses, ok one kiss, you could say that he was the closest to a "colleague" you had within this sector in years.

You were surrendering to the enemy. But looking at it closely, he no longer looked like the enemy. Somehow, at some point when you don't know exactly which one, something has changed. You were having access to another Agent Peña, one you hadn't known. That it wasn't exactly like your co-workers' description, and that it didn't fit the hateful profile you had created of him.

Something was changing.

[mrsjavierp]

Where you belong?

Chapter 8 - Fill the Void

Javier Peña x latin!f!reader

Summary: Running away from life as you always knew to start a new position as Head Chief on a DEA Office, far away, on Colombia. There, you'll face violence, as you never thought you could. There, you'll meet Javier Peña, your stubborn agent...

Warnings (to the whole fic): +18!, angst, smut, cheating, last relationships, drug dealing - Narcos Universe (not so accurate), bad spanish, english is my second language, use of Y/N and Y/LN. No physical description of the reader, only your clothes (sometimes). The POVs are shifting between reader (first person and Narrator - 3rd person)

(If I forgot anything, tell me, pls!)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Thanks for your feedback, hope you enjoy this chapter! Hope to hear from you all soon! I'm also working on two stories (one shots) to our beloved Joel Miller and our corny cowboy Agent Whiskey

Tag: @creedslove | @pedrostories | @mjoee13 | @immyowndefender | @iamsherlocked-1998 | @pedroswife69 |

***

Narrator’s POV:

Arriving at the CNP headquarters, Steve, Javier and you get there almost at the same time.

The tension between you and Javier was noticeable. Steve knew better than asking either of you: he wanted to live to see his girls again… And to catch Escobar.

When you locked the door in your office, the tears started appearing. 

You lied to Javier about not remembering breakfast: you hoped he lied about it too. You actually couldn't recall talking about Ben.

Fuck, was a name you didn't think in a very long time… 

Especially after meeting Javi.  

Is Javi that full of himself to say that to me? What did he mean by that? What did I tell him? And most important: what he really knew about Ben? - You thought.

On the other side of the door, Javier’s mind was racing, trying not to act by impulse. But he decided to call a friend in NYC, who could tell him all he wanted about your history with your ex. He needed to understand why you were so worked up, why that bothered so badly.

However, he didn’t want Steve to suspect anything. Luckly, they got a tip about La Quica again, that he was buying a toilet... The same one that was on La Catedral and heading to the hills on San Isidro road.

When Steve went to speak to Jacoby, to fly Centra Spike over that location, Peña took the shot and called Joe:

“Hey, Joe!” - he greeted him.

“Took you long enough, Javi, you bastard!”

“Well, I tried to avoid long distance calls, you know I hate them.”

“Oh, so the rumors are true, you left your wife in Texas?”

“I did... Better for her and little Lucas, you know…” - he was looking over his shoulder, but no one seemed to be paying attention to him.

“So, how is Y/LN on the colombian field?”

“So far so good, man. She's a good cop…”

“She was one of the best here… But I’m betting my chips that it is not about her resume you called, you want the dirty, am I right?”

Javier laughed. 

“You fucking bastard, I knew it!”

“So, what you’ve got about her and her ex?” - Peña asked.

“Peña, that was a huge mess… He was already working here for a while and, months later, she arrived from the NYPD through the front door and found by herself a lead to a prostitution scheme… It was so big that it was a closed door OP, top secret stuff, it was only her, me, our boss and another couple of guys. The operation involved high-class prostitutes, working for high profile narcos. Ben heard the rumors about the OP and tried to sweet talk her to join it… But you know how she is with her work… Things do not mix at all.”

“Oh, I know…” - Javi sighed.

“Yep, so you know the deal... At first, it was just an evil comment here and there. I don’t know if she heard it, she trusted him, she was going to marry him. We were working our asses off, long and crazy hours. He took advantage and lied to her. He got sloppy and the rumors continued to grow... But I still don't know what she knew. Anyway, his luck didn’t last long: we were about to bust a brothel on the night that the narcos were there. Guess who was in one of those filthy beds?”

“No way…” - Javier closed his eyes, incapable of believing it.

“Yep. She found out on the job. Didn't help when she also discovered that he was trying to trade inside info with criminals.”

“Fuck, he was a dirty cop?”

“Yep. Luckily, she was too up-tight with all of her work. Not only was she as clean as a whistle, she got promoted to Colombia.”

“I can't believe it. Fuck...”

“Like a motherfucking movie, am I right?”

“Thanks for telling me. I can understand her behavior now…”

“She's one of the best cops I've ever got to work, Peña. She didn't deserve that.”

“I believe you. Well, thanks, man. Call if you need anything.”

Peña hung up the phone, if he was a mess before, now he was a wreck. The same questions were going through his mind again: How is he going to keep Lorraine away? How will he manage his boy's custody? How is he divorcing her and keep you in the dark, until the process is over?

A couple hours later, the tip to Centra Spike  worked: a conversation between another sicario, Velasco, and his lover is recorded.

You, Steve, Javier, Centra Spike, Mili Group and CIA reunited to see area’s maps:

"Well, we can discard the smaller ones... Not Escobar's style." - Steve pointed out.

"Which one of these has at least 2 roads of access?" - you ask.

"This one, Y/LN." - Jones, from the CIA, responded.

"This is your winner, niños." - you draw a circle, indicating it.

"Y/LN, what about Pinzón? We're gonna need men, equipment, cars..." - Javier commented.

"Leave Pinzón to me, Peña." - you responded.

You went back to his office, but he refused.

"¡Cabrón!" - you thought.

You went back to yours, but in the way, Steve talked to you:

"Jefe, any luck?"

"Not yet... But let me handle it. He doesn't know who he's dealing with." - the boys looked at each other, curious.

You called Crosby, Crosby called Gaviria and… Let's wrap it up: about 15 minutes later, you all were preparing to bust Escobar.

All the efforts for nothing, unfortunately: Escobar escaped through your fingers, again.

Escobar, however, made a career fooling and killing police officers, what he thought was going to a truce about to happen turned into a fuse to another battle, which made him even more dangerous.

Days later, you all were right as the skies were blue: another attack came. 

Escobar's sicarios killed a bunch of Pinzón's men all around Medellín… 

Pinzón chose to resign - it was the last drop to his sanity. He wanted personal peace more than to defend his country… How would someone judge him? 

Escobar killed more than four hundred cops a year - although it was a risk, it had no garanties on being alive and no one could fulfill any expectations to actually get it done.

*

Days passed by and President Gaviria decided to bring Coronel Carrillo back from Spain, as soon as he could.

The first thing Carrillo did was talk to you, since Peña and Steve weren't alone anymore:

“So, Y/LN… You're the boss now. I hope that we can work together at the same pace.” - Carrillo smiled at you.

“Well, I can't say anything about style, but we sure make a hell of a team. I'm saying the same thing as I said to Peña and Murphy: I'm also a field agent… Don't let the high hills fool you.”

He smirked.

“Vamos, Y/LN. I've got to say hi to an old friend…”

****

Carrillo decided to put up a show: tell in grand style about who's back in town. The actual goal was putting Escobar's partners on the map, by transmission. So Carrillo would stick his nose out and so would Escobar.

He lets you, Javier and Steve mapping Escobar's spies.

About a couple hours later, he came back and you and your inside team did the best you all could to track them all.

“We captured six radio transmissions.” - Jacoby informed. - “But we haven't pinpointed the exact location.” 

“So our best bet is to corner each of these buildings. This time, we hit the ground.” - you said.

Carrillo ordered his soldier, Trujillo, to send 6 unmarked cars with 4 men each, to observe the buildings, with 20 minute-intervals to avoid attention.

After that, he called Peña to join him.

“Be careful out there.” - you warn them.

Minutes later, when you and Steve are alone, you ask:

“Steve, is he always like that? Taking Peña up and down?”

“Sometimes, Jefe… He probably just wants an update to what happened from someone he trusts… He doesn't know you yet, it's his way.“ - Steve told me.

You'd show Carrillo who you really were: a woman younger than all three (Steve, Peña and himself) whose balls were bigger. 

***

Peña, Trujillo, Carrillo and other officers captured 6 of the boys who were working for Escobar. 

They took them to a hidden alley, on Bairro Escobar.

They are on their knees, scared. Well, 5 of them, at least.

“Do you know who I am?” - Carrillo started. - “My name is Coronel Horacio Carrillo. Last week, 30 police officers were murdered.”

“Those pigs probably deserved it.” - one of them said.

“Shut up, kid.” - Javier murmured.

“Many of them were my friends. A person perched on rooftops guiding murders with radios are assassins themselves… I hope after this encounter you'll reconsider working with someone who thinks he's above the law.”

Although Javier knew Carrillo was right, something felt off. Wrong.

At the same time, Carrillo cocked his pistol.

“What?” - another boy provoked. He was no more than fifteen, brown skin. - “Am I supposed to shit my pants in fear?”

Javier's stomach ached badly. It's been a while since he was afraid of something.

“No.” - Carrillo responded, shaking his head. He pointed the gun and shot, with no hesitation.

His body just fell on the floor, like it was nothing.

“Am I making myself clear? I want you to tell your friends that this is what happens when you work for Pablo Escobar!” - he shouted.

Carrillo analyzed the boys and chose one: the youngest, probably no more than 7 years old. The boy was crying, in silence.

He bent down, looked deeply in his eyes and handed him a bullet.

“Take it.” - the little boy obeyed. - “Tell them this is for Pablo.”

Carrillo stood up again, as if nothing happened.

“Remember what you saw… And know what will happen to you if I see you on a rooftop. You can leave. Now!” 

The five boys ran as if their lives depended on it.

Javier couldn't move. He felt like throwing up. He looked at Carrillo, as if he asked something. 

Carrillo’s expression was cold and distant.

They all drove back to CNP in silence.

When they arrived back, Steve met Javi on his way out.

“Javi, where are the fucking spotters?” - Steve asked, anxious.

“Carrillo went a different way… He, uh… He cut them loose.” - Javier responded, screeching his head, tense. How the hell is he going to tell what happened?

“Oh, we're letting people go, now? I bet Y/LN will be pissed AF…”

Javi rolled his eyes and, lighting up a cigarette, said:

“Yeah, Murphy, we're letting people go.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, man.” - Javier opened the door of his truck. He needed to leave as fast as he could. He needed a hug. He needed to feel human again.

“Hey, fucking talk to me!” - Steve demanded, interrupting the friend.

“Let go my fucking arm.” 

“What the fuck happened?!” - Steve continued to bother Javier.

Javier sighted and responded:

“Carrillo put a gun to the kid's head and pulled the trigger… To make a fucking point.”

Steve swallowed hard. 

“We good now?” - Javier mocked, entered his car and headed to the apartment complex where you all lived.

***

About late at night, you hear fervorous knocks at your door.

You were awake, since you just got home.

You pick up your gun and open the door, without noticing that you were only wearing a thin long gray dress, showing your curves.

It was Javier, looking like shit with a bottle of whiskey and a cigar in hand.

“Let me in, please, cariño.” - his brown eyes were almost black. Sad and big.

You put down the gun and let him in.

“Peña, you look like shit… What happened?” - you asked, as you both sat down on your couch and he served whiskey to both of you and put the cigar in the astray.

“Salut, cariño.” - he raised his glass.

You raised as well, drank it up and put away the glass.

“Damn, Peña. That's good stuff… You didn't answer me. What happened?” - you uttered. You knew something bad had happened. The cigar, the good whiskey, his painful expression…

“Cariño, I… I don't know how to say it.” 

“Start from the beginning, Javi… I'm right here.” - you suggested, softly.

You were genuinely concerned for him.

He kissed your lips, softly, by surprise. 

You stop after a few minutes, reaching out for air. Your apartment felt like a thousand degrees. Your body was sweating, the adrenaline was running through your veins. But, again, you’d deny even from yourself.

“Javi…” - he already knew what you're going to say and he doesn't want to hear it again. 

“Cariño, please don't. Not now. I need to forget about today's route.”

“Okay, baby boy.” - you sat on his lap and kissed him deeply. He melted under your lips, his hands touching your body, hungry.

You only needed an excuse to be with him again. 

Just one more night… - you thought.

If you were wearing pants, they'd be on fire.

“Cariño, just a heads up…” - he started.

You looked at him, confused, waiting for the rest.

“I won’t be gentle. Right now, I can't. I'm really not capable… Are you okay with it?”

You continued on his lap, but now, you put your knees on each side of his body and he involved his arms around you. Even wearing clothes, the electricity was passing through both of you.

“Show me your worst, Peña… I dare you.” - you whisper.

He smiled, but his eyes darkened with lust.

Javier literally ripped your dress, revealing your skin.

“Hey! Are you fucking crazy, Javi?” - you yell at him. - “I’m gonna fucking…” - you didn't finish, as he slapped your cheek, not enough to hurt you, he never would, but enough to surprise you and make you shut up.

“You don't speak until you're spoken to, babygirl. You don't come until I say so. You won’t do anything without me saying. If you behave like a good girl, I may let you cum. If not, I'm gonna punish you. Understood?”

You shook your head positively, incapable of believing in what was happening.

He slapped your ass, bringing you back.

“Words, cariño.”

“Yes, I understood it.” - you responded, in a low voice.

Who was that man on Javier's body and where he was the first night we were fucked? - you thought. 

“Good girl, cariño…” - he touched your body, started at your neck and went down to your waist. - “Now, how do I begin? I've got so many options, so many possibilities… I know we only had sex one time, one night, but I feel like I know your body really well, cariño.”

You looked at him, anxious, waiting.

He picked you up in his arms and took you to your bed.

“Now, we're ruining your bed, cariño.”

He ripped your panties and, with no warning, kissed your mound. You relaxed as he kissed slowly for a bit. 

He got up, leaving you clenching over nothing.

He began to take off his suit and tie, your eyes hungry for him, mouth watering.

“What do you want, cariño?” - he asked, eyes locked up with yours.

“Can I help you undress, Javi?”

“Such a polite girl… Yeah, you can.”

You took off his tie, letting it rest on the bed. Helped him with the buttons on his shirt, holding back the urge to rip them as he did with your dress.

He took off his shoes and socks and you unbuckled his belt, letting it side with the tie… You had a dirty idea, but it would have to wait a bit.

At last, his pants went down with his boxers.

He was deciding on what to do, but you couldn't wait. Your hand touched his lower belly, aiming for his dick. 

“Oh, cariño, you want to use your mouth, now? Wanna please me?”

“Yes, Javi.”

“Beg for it.” - he said in that condescending tone you hated.

“Javi, please, let me suck your dick.” - you coo.

He caressed your cheek with one hand and the other held his shaft.

“I don't think you want it enough, cariño.” - and he slowly started going up and down his length. He had a stupid cocky smile on his face.

“You know I can be better than your hand, Javi… Please, let me touch you, I'm begging you…” - your voice barely was a whisper into your room.

“Go ahead, cariño… But don't be greedy. I don't wanna come right now.”

Your lips wrapped around his tip, while he held your head. Your tongue and lips worked up and down, while one of your hands cupped his balls.

“Fuck, cariño… I knew you were missing me, but didn't know you were so hungry for my cock.”

He grabbed your hair, setting the rhythm, until you couldn't stand only worth your knees on the bed, needing to claw at his tights, and your nose almost touching his pelvis. 

He was fucking your throat and you were so wet.

His mouth was making obscene sounds, saying how good you're doing, how badly he missed you and your beautiful lips.

He slowed down the rhythm, until he stopped, taking it off your mouth. His dick was aching for more, but he wanted to come inside of you.

“You did good, cariño. Can you continue to be a good girl for me?”

“Yeah, Javi.” - you responded. Your legs were trembling, your pussy throbbing for attention.

“Lay down and open your legs for me… Yes, just like that. Tell me, where did you leave your vibrator?”

“In the bathroom, the second drawer.”

“Don't move.”

He picked it up and examined it, curious about the pink wand in his hand.

“So, you've been touching yourself in the bathroom? Door closed? Biting your lips or a towel to not make any noise?”

You don't respond to it, you’re just running away from his glaze. 

He slapped your ass again.

“Look at me while I talk to you.” - he demanded. - “Answer me!”

“Y-y-yeah, Javi. I was doing it in the bathroom, biting a towel.” - you murmured.

“Now, you're gonna show me what you've been denying from me to hear, such as in person as through these walls… But don't come. Not until I say so.” - and handed you the vibrator.

“But Javi, I can't control myself when I use it…”

He smiled, the same sly smile you knew and hated.

“That's not my problem. You come when I say it.” - he was being ruthless towards you.

With your right hand shaking, you started to use your wand on the softest mode, as you were so aroused since it all started.

Your room was filled with vibration sounds and your moans. Your eyes looking at his figure, wishing he’d do something to you instead. 

You were also a hundred percent sure Javier was punishing you somehow. He wanted to prove himself again.

Javier, on the other hand, was admiring you. The way your pupils were dilated, your body was shaking, your smooth skin chilling, your beautiful pussy soaking wet… If he could, he'd take a picture just to eternalize that moment.

“O-o-oh fuck, Javi… I can't take it anymore… I'm so close, please, let me come!” - you beg.

He smirked at you.

“Oh, cariño, you're close?” - he leaned towards you, as if he was going to enter at your pussy. It only made it worse and closer, as you could almost feel his scent and his warm skin.

“Holyfuck, Javi, please! Please let me!” - you beg, desperately.

He grabbed his belt, tied your wrists together, holding your vibrator in your clitoris. After, he shoved his dick inside of you.

“Go ahead, cariño. Come for me and on me.” - he ordered.

You thank God he said that. You squealed his name high, releasing all of your juices onto him.

You were positively sure you woke up your neighbors.

“Oh, fuck! So good for me, cariño.” - Javier praised you.

He continued without any pity towards you, pounding hard inside you. 

Not only you’re embarrassingly wet, you were so overstimulated that the orgasm was knocking at your pussy again, so fast

“I love when you yell my name, cariño!” - he said, full of bliss.

“Javier, for god's sake!” - you yell again.

“¡Mierda! Cariño, are you close again?” - he asked with a devilish tone. - “What a delicious greedy pussy, missing me so much… Oh, fuck!”

Tears began to go down your face. It was impossible to hold anything more and, without his permission, you came again, your body shaking vigorously.

“Holy fuck, Y/N!” - It was his time to yell your name as loud as he could. - “I can... I can feel... You're so fucking tight, you're gonna rip my dick off!"

He untied you and turned off your wand. It relieved you for a bit, but he laid on top of you and chased his own orgasm. 

After he came, you both lay next to each other, gasping for air, eyes locked up to each other.

“I missed you so much, Javi…” - you reveal.

He smiled, happy. His hand went to your cheek, fondling.

“Yo también te extrañe, cariño. You have no idea…” (I missed you too.)

“I think I do, Javi… Te extrañe todos los malditos días desde la primera noche.” (I missed you all those damn days, since the first night.)

“Gracias a Díos, cariño. I thought I was alone in this mess.” (Thanks God.)

You laughed together.

“You can't pretend that you don't want to be with me anymore, cariño. I'm serious.” - he declared.

You sighed.

“I know, Javi… But we also know it's not that simple… We work together, I'm your boss, Escobar is on the run…”

“We can take it slow, we don't have to do anything you don't feel like it. But don't push me away again.” - Javier begged you.

“I really don't know how to, Javi. I don't know how to. I haven't dated since…” - you didn't finish.

His eyes were soft and warm, like cocoa on a winter night. Your heart felt like an ice cube on the sun, again. 

“Since your ex, Ben?” - he asked.

“Yep.” - you responded, popping the “p”. - “‘It’s not gonna be easy for you, so I’d like to warn you: if you have anything to tell me, tell me as soon as possible. I’m not gonna demand you to do it now, but think if you have anything to tell me, and if you do, you can.”

“First, we need to get to know each other. Build trust and I’m not talking about the field. Let’s get to know each other, talk, laugh, have sex, grab a bite. We’re neighbors, we don’t even need to leave our apartments if you don’t want to.”

“No one can know about us, Javier Jesus Peña. Not even Murphy.”

“Don’t worry about it, cariño.” - he pecked your lips softly.

“And please, don’t sleep with anyone else and it includes your informants.” - you rolled your eyes. - “I know, it’s stupid since we’re not in a relationship, but if you want to do it, please, just end this… this thing we’re about to begin. I’m not saying that again.”

“Cariño, for God’s sake!” - Javier laughed, his hand left your face to your waist. - “No one ever made me feel this way.” - you laughed. - “I’m serious, hermosa. Don’t worry about it.”

You breathe out heavily.

“Well, let’s see how it goes.” - you say, still not allowing your heart to sink further. - “We need a shower, Javi. Care to join me?”

He smiled and you both entered your bathroom... But Javier's mind didn't care for sleeping. He still needed to punish you for coming without his permission, while you were filling the bathtub, distracted.

"Of course, cariño... Besides, you haven't exactly been a good girl for me for a few days. Don't think I'll let you escape that easily."

Your eyes went to his naked figure, surprised.

"Oh, I thought I was off the hook..."

Next

[lavendertales]

Judas—Javier Peña x f!reader

Chapter 14 of the Unholy series

summary: Javier tells you everything about the loss of your father.

word count: 3k

A/N: ANGST. mentions of violence, injuries & guns.

gif: @300mirrors​ 

series masterlist | AO3 

The silence is deafening, not tranquil in the slightest. The more you look into Javier’s eyes, the more you struggle to see past the eyes of a traitor. You brawl and battle against the ugliest instincts in order to see the eyes of the man who has given you the best, most exciting years of your life, the man who has bewitched your body and heart alike.

You know you should be thinking rationally. That you know.

Yet your spirit bends at anger’s will, unable to stand back up and offer a proper resolution.

You don’t move, and neither does the gun pressed into Javier’s chest. He doesn’t move, either. Not on account of fear of the bullet.

He’s too afraid that one wrong move will drive you out of his life completely.

“Talk,” you murmur.

“Do you want to sit down?”

“You do the talking, I give the instructions.”

Javier complies, scarily easy too. He doesn’t sit down either; he merely leans against one of the desks and takes in a deep breath, avoiding your glare for now.

Turns out, reminiscing the worst thing you did to someone is no easy task and it can take quite the toll on anyone. His chest feels heavy, his mind a blur as he scrambles for each detail of that dreadful day, and all of his hopes of being with you utterly shattered.

“It was a day like any other,” he begins, voice husky, filled with instant regret. “I haven’t seen him before, just—so you know. He was another guy that needed to be taken down, a… name to scratch off a list.”

Hearing that makes you tremble and nearly spit out your disgust, right at Javier’s feet, but you refrain yourself from such malicious actions. Instead, your finger remains secure on the trigger, gun still pointing in his direction.

“I got to the office, Murphy walked in as well, and we went straight to Carrillo. We had a raid planned for that day, it was supposed to be at a local brothel. Carrillo handed me that mission. He and Murphy were going at a different location. It was me, and another three agents. Mateo, Diego and Raul. When we got there… it was an ambush. They knew we were coming, someone sold us out. There were four of Escobar’s men. There was Navigante, Quica, The Lion… and Michael.”

The sudden thought of your father in a whorehouse makes you sick to your very core. You make a face, unable to contain it, but quickly brush off the thought. Water under the bridge now, you think. After all, your mother had passed years before, and it’s not like she stuck around for either one of you.

“They scattered like rats immediately,” Javier continues, taking another deep breath in. “We went after them, shots were fired… and civilians got involved. It quickly turned into madness. They were shooting at random people on the street, making sure it was difficult for us to follow them without helping the others. But there was nothing we could do, they were dead by the first bullet. So we chased them for a while, but Navigante and the Lion got away. That left us with Quica and Michael. Those two were… madmen. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never seen someone smile so widely while shooting and mutilating others.”

The word “mutilating” makes your skin crawl, and you’d hate to think that your father could possibly behave in such a twisted manner.

But you saw the file. You saw the pictures, the hard evidence displayed boldly in front of you, black and white on paper, indisputable. The pictures were, indeed, gruesome, and even reminiscing them is a heavy cross to bear.

“La Quica was the one who did most of that,” Javier seemingly puts your mind to rest with that sentence. “But your—Michael wasn’t that far behind. He—he enjoyed what he did. He had fun. He knew how to run and hide and to shoot. Quica was the one who took the first shot at us, and he got Raul right in the head. He dropped dead next to me. I kept shooting, trying to get one of them, either one of them. I knew at that point that they had to be killed. They left a trail of bloody corpses behind them and had no remorse about it. No shame, no guilt… there was nothing but happiness on their faces.”

The tragic part is that you can vividly portray those images, despite the hatred that you carry for the notion that your father was a notorious killer embarked on Pablo Escobar’s service. It seems like such a cruel sentence, to be able to portray a bloodbath of those proportions when you haven’t been present to witness it firsthand.

Perhaps on a deeper level, you acknowledge that your father could be capable of such atrocities. And it’s undoubtedly scary.

“I got Quica in the shoulder,” you hear next. “”Not much, but at least it got him to stop for a while. Then it was Michael. The moment Mateo took a breather to recharge the gun, he was a goner. Michael took the shot, killed him in a second. It was just me and Diego left, and Quica was back to back with Michael, shooting again like a fucking lunatic. Diego asked me what to do. He was following my orders, and I was following Carrillo’s. We were supposed to bring the most important faces for a confession, and Quica was one of them. Michael wasn’t. So I told him—“

Javier hesitates. He sees your face, drained of all color and emptied of any other facial expression but coldness, and he gulps. Your hand holding the gun doesn’t waiver, not even for a moment.

“Go on,” you tell him. “Say it.”

Javier is clever enough to know you won’t shoot him. You need to take control of whatever you can, to intimidate and show that you mean business, and if that’s how you need to proceed, then he will let you. He will not fight you.

Instead, he breaks for you; the sight wrecks him in the nastiest, most painful way. He wills himself to go on like you had asked him to.

“I told Diego to—take the shot. I told him that I’ll get Quica, and if he gets the chance to get Michael… he should.”

Silence installs itself in between you two again, more asphyxiating and crumbling than when you began. You review every word, imagine how it all went down, over and over again, and your eyes meet Javier’s for what feels the first time in months.

“And?” you demand.

Your voice is hollow, and it eats Javier alive to hear it so.

“And… he did,” he confirms. “He took the shot. He killed him.”

“At your order.”

“At my order.”

“And after?”

“La Quica shot Diego in retaliation, then ran, scared shitless. I called dispatch to let them know about the agents, got to the embassy in bloody clothes, signed the report about the failed mission, and… went home.”

This time, you purposely stare at him. You picture an exhausted Javier driving through the bloody streets of Medellin, his clothes stained with the blood of his colleagues—and who knows what else—and, to your surprise, you feel for him.

“What did you do then?” you ask.

Though surprised at the question, Javier gulps, trying to recollect his thoughts as he thinks back on the end of that day. He has a suspicion regarding your expectations as to what his past time activities were, but there’s no more harsh truth to be exposed.

“I took a shower. It didn’t wash away anything from that day. I lit a cigarette, drank half a bottle of whiskey, and stared out the window well into the night. I stared at Medellin at night, listening to the wind, the shouting, the happy screams like there was this… massive win to be celebrated. But the truth is, that day was just the tip of the iceberg. It would be one of the many bad days to follow.”

It’s somewhat impressive that your hand didn’t cramp up yet; you’ve been pointing that gun at him for over half an hour, and you are still going strong.

“Do you think he deserved it?” you ask out of the blue.

Javier stares at you bewildered, uncertain if he wants to respond to that question.

Though how could he possibly upset you even more?

“What are you asking me?” he says, tone unstable, much like himself.

“I am asking you if you think he deserved what he got,” you clarify. That’s when you pull back, crossing your arms at your chest as you tower slightly over Javier. “Do you think my father deserved to die? It’s a simple yes or no.”

Except it’s not. Not really.

Javier coos your name, his mental state in a worse shape now. But he knows you, inside out; the answer he has in his heart is the one you have as well, and he knows that. He knows you can’t help but rationalize everything, even this moment, even the grimmest moment of your life. You’ve always placed duty above personal gain.

And duty will win again.

“He was cruel and manic,” he replies. “He killed children. In broad daylight.”

“Yes or no, Javier.”

The way you pronounce his name, emptied of any emotion and yearning behind it, it both brings him back to life and kills him simultaneously.

“Yes,” he finally answers.

Your facial expression doesn’t change. The glare you exchange with him seems to be that of an underlying agreement, one that he isn’t part of. He notices that you seem less angry, though he fails to understand how or why. He’s worried again, terrified of the damage he’d unknowingly caused between you two.

“Okay,” you respond after a while. “Thank you.”

Javier doesn’t like that; the simple, cold way you send those thanks sends shivers down his spine, and he lowers his head into the ground again. He knows he’s truly fucked up and, in spite of your search for the truth and desire to keep things rational, you won’t ever forgive him.

What is rational, after all? Rational would’ve been if he had told you how he felt back in college. Rational would’ve been to tell you now, and drop the stupid rivalry act. Maybe it would’ve spared you of having to hide those shamefully pleasurable acts, and you could’ve actually enjoyed them properly, in a bed, intimate and cozy together.

There’s nothing but an ice cold distance between you two now, a broken road that’s suffered too much damage to be repaired.

The sudden callout of your name makes Javier’s head turn, but not yours.

“What are you doing here?” Claudia chimes in. “What’s going on?”

She remarks the gun you’re holding in one of your hands, the head still pointed in Javier’s direction, and fearfully approaches you both.

“Thank you for your honesty,” you continue, “and thank you—for making me an orphan.”

It hurts like a motherfucker, but Javier understands it. He knows you want it to hurt, to hurt badly like it did you, and not because you didn’t hear a word from what he said. But because you did. He knows that you’ve probably accepted the truth about your father, but that you also cannot forgive him for the crimes he committed.

Just as you probably won’t forgive Javier for giving out that order, even if you acknowledge the fact that it was justified and well-intended.

“What is going on here?” Claudia pushes, now in your vicinity.

“Nothing,” you say, strapping the gun to your belt again. “Just a conversation.”

“I take it you’re back at work?”

“No. I don’t know if I’ll return.”

No “yet” or “just”. Somehow, that sentence hurts Javier more than what you told him last. The idea that he drove you away from your job, your career, your passion and from him, subsequently, is more than he can live with. He didn’t even get the chance to be happy upon seeing you back in the office, unharmed by Escobar.

Looks like neither of you gets their shot at happiness.

“If you’re telling me you’re quitting—“Claudia begins, but you are quick to interrupt.

“I’m still on indefinite hiatus, ma’am.”

“That personal affair hit you hard, I take it. I’m sorry.”

You glance at Javier, regret exuding from your pupils and your whole body. “So am I.”

“Take all the time you need,” Claudia adds.

You walk away, fighting the tears that sting your eyes and the ache in your heart. You can’t wait to get home, allow yourself to feel everything that’s been weighing down so heavily on you.

“Peña. A word.”

Defeated, Javier does a never-before seen version of the walk of shame all the way to his boss, eyes lowered in shame into the ground.

“What the hell is going on?” Claudia asks.

“Nothing.”

“I got two of my finest agents on the sideline, one sulking in this very office and the other on an indefinite break, potentially leaving the DEA altogether, instead of going after Pablo Escobar. The goal they’ve been working towards for the past three years. One can only assume the two elements are related.”

“There’s not—“

“And before you decide on how to lie to me, I did not get to be in this position by not picking up on social cues.”

Javier inhales, pretending to weigh in on his options. For him, there is only one: do not reveal anything to the DEA’s chief. His private life is private for a reason. Although, in the past year, things had clearly gotten out of hand.

“Is there something else going on between you two?” she asks.

Javier doesn’t offer any verbal response; instead, he looks at Claudia with an incredibly guilty look in his eyes, one that suggests don’t you dare ask me anything else about this or I might lose it completely.

Claudia huffs, quite loudly, staring at the empty office they are in, taking in the image before looking back at the disheveled man in front of her.

“I do not need to know… everything,” she says, voice a little rigid. “But I can understand it there being something more going on.”

Javier remains silent still. He cannot bring himself to look into his boss’ eyes, not when she’s referencing the most private thing in his life.

“I do want to ask you a question, since we’re on this topic, Peña.”

The silence makes Javier hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears; the thump, thump, thump of a man on the verge of a breakdown.

“Whatever is going on… is it worth missing out on catching Pablo Escobar? Is she worth missing the biggest achievement in your career?”

“She is.”

Without missing another heartbeat.

“Or I thought she was. Hoped. I don’t know.”

Unable to resist the impulse to comfort, Claudia approaches Javier and gently pats him on the shoulder, smiling politely.

“Give her some time,” she advises.

“I don’t think time will heal in this case, boss.”

“Give it time. Trust me.”

While he’s definitely not a fan of discussing elements of his personal life—or lack thereof—with anyone, much less with his boss, the alternative, thinking of how the team is handling Escobar, isn’t such a treat either. At least in talking about you, he gets to think of you, to remember the times you’ve shared together, as sinful and forbidden they felt at the time.

God, he misses you. He misses having you nearby, the scent of your perfume, that soft, moldable skin of yours, your full lips, the fiery way you’d stare him down and the moans you let out as he slid inside you, always with ease, like you were—

Like you were made for him.

“How can you be sure time will help?” he asks.

“As I told you before, you don’t get to be in this position without being good with social cues of any kind. I know what attraction, what love looks like. I’ve seen it in her eyes.”

Javier’s eyes widen upon hearing the piece of information. “What?”

Claudia chuckles. “Peña, I am well aware of the fact that you have—quite a reputation around here, particularly among the few women at the embassy. But I’ve never seen you miss being in the middle of the action, let alone for a woman. I know what caring for someone looks like, and this is it. That kind of love doesn’t just go away. So… give it some time.”

The moment vanishes as swiftly as it had begun. Javier feels like he’d been talking to an old friend rather than an official representative of America. Which somehow makes the moment slightly more awkward as the realization dawns on him.

“Thank you,” he quickly says before rushing out the office.

He can’t stay there. He cannot keep waiting around. He needs distraction. And alcohol won’t do it this time.

He makes the call from the car. Anxiety cruises through his veins as he tells Gabriella to meet him at his place. Deep down, in the huge pit of his stomach, he feels retched for even thinking about it, and even more so for going through with it. But he can’t have you. He will probably never have you again, so why pretend otherwise? And there is nothing wrong about seeking solace in the arms of someone. Especially since you two were never an item, and by the looks of it, never will be.

He’s no good at being a boyfriend, or more. He’s good at fucking, and that’s what he will do tonight. Needy, rough and depraved. Just the way he likes it.

Just the way she likes it.

Stop. Don’t think about anything else but Gabriella. You need this.

previous | next 

[nicolethered]

Javi and Steve chase down La Quica in 2x08 Exit El Patrón

[garckam7]

In tiktok, we have nothing for them. I wanna watch la Quica edit, i wanna watch Poison edit! But they are not popular in tiktok. So, i decided to make my own edit. Here the video everyone, enjoy it 😉🔥

[bullet-prooflove]

Postcards: Horacio Carrillo x Reader

Tagging: @616wilsons​ @mysun-n-stars​  @xmoonknightlyx    @nessamc  @crazy4chickennuggets

With Love from Madrid.

The first postcard wasn’t signed but you recognised the writing, his looped scrawl reaching out over eight thousand miles until it reached you in Columbia. The picture was vivid, an art deco version of a landmark that you had no reference for. Still, it was beautiful in its own way. Primary colours that reminded you of the Columbian flag. Horacio’s way of maintaining some link to his homeland. You stuck it to the fridge with one of the circular magnets you used to leave notes to yourself.

The second one came at the end of a bad day, one with bloodshed, violence, and death. You’d gotten slashed across the face during a raid, Connie had managed to patch you up, but it would scar, she had informed you. From cheekbone to jawline, you would carry the indentation of La Quica’s knife for the rest of your days. It was a small price to pay compared to the alterative. You wondered what Horacio would think of it as you sorted through your mail and discovered the postcard. Spanish words written in red blocky letters, all centring around the heart in the middle.

My life is here, but my heart is yours.

It had been six months since you had laid eyes on him, but those feelings hadn’t resided. You still thought of the nights you spent wrapped up in his sheets, his warm hands caressing your skin as made love to you by the night of the moon. Your fingers itched to pick up the phone, you longed to hear his voice, the smooth whisper of Spanish in your ear.

You read the third on the balcony whilst smoking a cigarette. A vintage image of Madrid in sepia, the colour leeching out of it. It was different from the others, darker, you could sense his pain over the slant of his handwriting. You wondered what had happened that day that had led him to this image.

It took me an hour to get to know you and just a day to fall in love, but it will take me a lifetime to forget you.

He missed you, the same way that you missed him. It had been a little under a year since his reassignment and the way you felt hadn’t changed. You still thought about him every morning. The way he smiled when he sipped from his coffee cup savouring the taste. The brush of his hand when he passed you a cigarette. The way he kissed you, like a man starving for oxygen, like every time would be the last.

“Cute postcards.” Pena said, one day when he stopped over at the apartment to pick you up. His fingers trailed over the laminated paper. “You got a friend out there? A boyfriend?”

“I don’t ask about your private life Javier.” You reminded him, snatching your gun up from the kitchen table and jamming it into the holster.

“Hey, I was just showing an interest.” He said holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You gonna shoot me for it?”

You picked up your badge and clipped it to your belt, alongside your weapon.

“I know exactly where your interest lies.” You reminded him, looking pointedly at the crouch of his jeans.

Javier rolled his eyes and placed his hands on his hips.

“You act like I’m some sort of dog.”

“If it barks like one.” You shot back, shrugging into your jacket.

“You hear the news about Carrillo?” he asked you, grasping the apartment door and holding it open for you to step through. You heart stopped in your chest, the air rushing out of your lungs as he pulled the apartment door closed behind you. “He’s going to be back in the country this afternoon, heading up Search Bloc. Looks like the gangs getting back together again.”

The final postcard was on your desk when you arrived at Head Quarters. It was of brilliant blue skies and plush hills, the trees in the background painted with hues of evergreen. It was beautiful, the two of you had been there once upon a time, a rare quiet in the storm. A private place where Horacio went to think. The moment your eyes had locked you’d known how he felt, the two of you had spent the afternoon making love on a picnic blanket amongst the grass.

8pm, he had written on the back.

You had the time and of course you knew the place.

Love Horacio Carrillo? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[grippingbeskar]

First off CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE!!!!! You deserve it!!!!!!

Secondly I literally want you to write every single prompt and trying to narrow it down was so so difficult but! I hereby request:

💃 6 or 13, for javi you can choose!

🥂 1 I am BEGGING (also for javi because I am a whore!)

— god. i fucking love javi so much. thank you for requesting this wow. and thank you for ur kind words 🖤 hope you enjoy!! also i don’t speak spanish (as much as i have tried) so please feel free to correct my spelling if i fuck up. i tried to figure out where the accents go but i am an idiot. pls forgive me.

— prompts:

💃 13. there it is. there’s that smile

🥂 1. what? does that feel good?

-warnings: explicit content 18+ (semi public, hand stuff oop.) swearing, mention of death, canon typical violence.

[grippingbeskar’s 2k night out celebration!]

“Rough day, princesa?” Javi comes up behind you, his voice snapping you back to reality. You were deep into your fourth drink of the night, trying to wash away the memories of the past twenty four hours.

“You know it was, Javier.” He leans one arm on the bar, facing you, and signals to the bartender for two more drinks.

“Javier? Am I in trouble?” Rolling your eyes, you finish off the rest of your whiskey as a new glass arrives in front of you.

“I’m not really in the mood.” You go to get up, but his hand catches your arm gently. You sigh and slide back into the bar stool, depressed with how easily you just gave up. Only a testament to how weak this place has made you. If today was any indication, a slight breeze would of knocked you on your ass.

“I was kidding. Tell me about it.” His voice was as intoxicating and warm as your whiskey, and you gulped the next mouthful down to try and drown any little remains of feeling that threatened to spill over.

It had never really happened: you and Javi. It was too close quarters in Bogotá, and you couldn’t risk your position. The last thing you needed was people saying you slept your way to the top around here. Being a woman was bad enough.

One drunken kiss was all it took, though, to have your life alter its gravitational pull. He’d leaned over the bar, one he jumped after everyone else had gone home, swearing he could make the best ‘Sex on the Beach’ you’d ever had, and just kissed you. Ever since then, you hadn’t taken your eyes off him. You couldn’t do anything about it, of course, and he probably didn’t want to.

He fucked anything with a pulse, so you put all the flirty comments and longing stares to the back of your mind as best you could. If Javi was anything, though, he was impossible to ignore. Especially if there was something he wanted.

“Come on. Tell me about your day.” He looks at you over his glass as he leans closer. A mixture of cigarettes, whiskey and his aftershave makes your head feel fuzzy, and you want to dive head first into it. Have him take over all your senses, like he did with that one, stupid, life altering kiss.

“You’re mocking me.” You try your best to keep your face blank when he laughs, smiling down at you. Shit— he was so close.

“Never, princesa. God knows I’ve had my fair share of bad days out here. This place will suck you dry if you let it.” There’s a tone in his voice, one of sincerity that you so often don’t get to hear. Your face gets warmer, and you take another sip from your glass.

“Everything just— went to shit, basically. No one followed the plans, a bomb went off in the east building and scattered everyone, La Quica got out without so much as a scratch, and all we came home with was a brick of second-grade coke.” You take a deep breath. You were over it. Over being second guessed, over being seen as a liability. You should be a priority— today just proved it. If everyone had just listened to you…

“Let me guess Your plan would have avoided the east building all together?” You nod, shoulders slumped. “And La Quica was on the top floor, so you could of cut him off if you’d had the numbers.”

“I haven’t even written the report. How’d you know?” He shrugs, finishing off his glass.

“It’s what I would have done.” You nearly slam the glass down. “What?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No. East side of that entire suburb is a shit hole. The back door practically opens into Escobars front yard. I would of steered clear of it entirely.”

“Exactly! There was too many variables, and you could get the entire squad in undetected—“

“If you went around back, because they don’t have stairs. You’d have to scale the building.”

“God, where were you this morning?!” You laugh, smiling up at him now that he’s stood up straight. You knew you were right— the best agent in the DEA just confirmed it, even if your superiors didn’t listen. That didn’t matter, for some reason Javi’s validation was more than enough.

You couldn’t wipe the smug smile off your face, even when Javi’s finger hooked under you chin, tilting your head up even more.

“There it is. There’s that smile.” You can’t look away, and there’s a moment where everything else disappears. Everyone in the bar goes quiet, the lights dim, it’s like some kind of dream overtakes you and all you can do it let it happen. “I thought I’d lost you for a second there.”

“I’m not that easy, Javi.”

“I know.” He shakes his head, and lets his hand drop away. The way he says it makes you think he’s not just talking about losing your smile. “You’re too good to be out here.”

“I’m good, and it’s why I’m here. If my superiors don’t want to admit it, I’ll just have to wait them out.” Javi laughs next to you, looking at you out the side of his eye as he leans both forearms on the bar. “If today was just the start, they’ll get their heads blown off before I ever need to get promoted.”

“This country has made you so brutal. Is that what you think of me when you stare at me across your office?” You exhale quickly, and you speak before your inebriated brain can stop you.

“You’re too pretty to lose your head, Javi.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you could swallow them back up.

He was the flirt. He was the one always coming on to you. You were supposed to deflect, and now you had practically kicked the door down. You tried to blame it on the drink, but two years in this country has given you a much stronger stomach— at least, strong enough to handle a few half glasses of whiskey without losing your mind.

Javi hasn’t replied, but he has moved. Instead of leaning forward on the bar, he turns back to you. Sliding a little closer, his hand trails lightly, fingers grazing your arm. You can’t help but shiver in your seat, no matter how hot the alcohol is making you feel.

“What’d you just say?” Your eyes squeeze shut and shake your head, but he hums, his hand once again finding a place under your chin. You have no where to look but his face. His eyes, dark and blown out, sucking you in. “Don’t worry. I think you’re very pretty too.”

“I’m sorry Jav, I… Clearly, I’m drunker than I thought.” You fake a laugh, trying to play it off.

“I’ve seen you drink twice as much and win a handstand competition with three of our strongest agents.” You want to kick yourself for that stupid contest. All it’s done is bite you in the ass, even if it was one of your proudest achievements. “You’re not drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” He turns the seat of your bar stool toward him, and slips in between your slightly parted legs. “Javi.”

“Don’t ‘Javi’ me, princesa. We both know you wouldn’t let me get this close if you didn’t want this just as badly as I do.” You swallow hard, and he smiles. He’s not mocking you like he usually does. He’s right, too. You’ve taken down men for doing less.

No— this… you wanted this. Even with every rational bone in your body screaming at you to push him off, to get out of the bar and go home. Sleep these feelings off, handle them with your own hand like you usually do. But he was so close, and he was… fuck. He was really hard. You could feel it pressing against your thigh, and your breath shuddered when he stepped even closer.

“You feel what you do to me? Huh?” He was still holding your face, making you look at him, admit it to him after months of denying it yourself. You nod, just once. “If you want me to go, you need to tell me now. I won’t be able to stop myself like last time.”

Last time. Shit… that kiss. He was getting closer, and your resolve was slipping every inch he closed off.

“But what about… what about everyone else.”

“Fuck everyone else. There’s only you and me here.” It certainly felt like it, but you knew that wasn’t the reality.

“P-people already think I don’t deserve this position. I can’t…” One of his large hands fanned out, sliding down your spine to your lower back and pulling you closer to him. A small hint of a moan slips past your lips.

“I can keep quiet, cariño.” Your eyes flutter closed as he lowers his mouth to your ear, the faintest kiss pressed under your jaw. “Question is, how quiet can I keep you?”

The hand on your back snakes around, and slides up your bare thigh, disappearing under your skirt. He doesn’t waste any time, shuffling you around so that no one in the rest of the bar could see you, and then kisses you hard. At the same time, two fingers circle your clit, and even through the thin fabric of your underwear, it feels good. Too good for you to be in public— oh—

“Fuck, Javi.” He smiles as you moan his name into his mouth, and you can feel him get a little faster. You have to dig your fingers into his hair to stay grounded.

“What? Does that feel good?” His voice flows smooth like honey over your shoulder, and all the tension in your body redirects to the pleasure erupting low in your stomach. You are grateful that you always pick the smallest corner of the bar to sit in, so no one can bare witness to how you roll your hips into every movement Javi makes with his hands.

“Fucking perfect. God— I think…”

“It’s alright, let go for me. I’ll take you home and fuck you properly if you cum for me right now.” His head leans back so he can watch you, and everything goes still for just one moment. Everything except his hand, that never stops— christ, you hope he never, ever stops…

You muffle the loud moan of your release into his shoulder, and you can faintly hear Javi telling you how sweet you sound, a few words you don’t recognise slipping into your blissed out brain. It doesn’t matter what he’s saying because he sounds so good doing it that it’s all the encouragement you need to ride out your high. The dullness the whiskey hung on your body shatters as pleasure racks through you, and when it begins to subside, your legs were shaking on the chair when Javi pulled you back to him.

“Fuck, cariño. Such a good girl for me.” Fingers still twisted in his hair, you pull him back to your mouth, kissing him slowly. When you pull away, you feel that same dream like haze wash over you, and you start to think maybe it wasn’t the kiss… maybe it was just him that made you feel like that.

“Javi…”

“Let me take you home. Stay with me.” His eyebrows were furrowed in something like worry. Worry you would do what you did last time. Run, leave him here alone again. You kissed the crease in his forehead, and it disappeared.

Your legs were still shaking as you stood, and Javi held you by the waist as he walked you outside and down the road to his place. To anyone else, you would of looked like two drunks stumbling home after a long night, and it felt a little like that too.

Only you weren’t drunk— this was something you knew you couldn’t blame on alcohol. The stutter in your heart every time he looked up at you from his desk, the way you felt when he kissed you… it couldn’t really be explained by anything else, but for now you were content to let him guide you home, and stay in this bubble for as long as you could.

[maximuswolf]

Ayuda para saber el nombre de una canción o grupo

Ayuda para saber el nombre de una canción o grupo Me ayudarían a descubrí una canción que escuché hace tiempo pero no recuerdo el nombre de la banda o canción, según yo el género es indie rock y el vídeo trata de una chica robot que se enamora de otro robot el.cual hace tareas de lavandería, según recuerdo la chica tiene a su novio (humano) y este al descubrirlos trata de separarlos y la quica guarda un calcetín según recuerdo de color negro Submitted August 06, 2024 at 05:33PM by Andrew_3-16 https://ift.tt/URJKVk5 via /r/Music

[ficjoelispunk]

Cap 04 - ATENTADO

<< Capítulo Anterior | Próximo Capítulo >>

Isso foi um erro. Isso foi um erro. Isso foi um erro. Isso foi um erro.

Sua cabeça estava em looping. Talvez se você repetisse vezes suficientes, você acreditaria.

Mas a verdade é que, você não conseguiria jamais esquecer esse beijo. Os lábios de Javier nos seus. A forma como ele te segurou. A forma como ele te beijou, como se você fosse algo que ele precisasse. Como se você fosse algo que ele quisesse.

Ah, Deus.

O cheiro dele na sua roupa, era algo perigosíssimo para o seu cérebro. E você estava completamente molhada. Seu clítoris dolorido. Você estava apertada em volta de nada. Precisando. Necessitando de algo. Mas se convenceu a não se tocar, pensando em Javier Peña, com a desculpa de que isso não fortificaria seus sentimentos doidos por ele.

Besteira.

Como você iria trabalhar na manhã seguinte, no mesmo ambiente que esse homem? Vocês entrariam em combustão.

Idiota.

Era esse o efeito que ele tinha sobre as mulheres. E era esse efeito que você tinha evitado por anos trabalhando no departamento. Como pode se render a algo tão carnal?!

***

Por sorte o setor estava lotado de trabalho. As ligações com denúncias começaram a ter trotes. O que era péssimo. Mas também havia denúncias fidedignas. Então os agentes estavam ocupados no tático, nas ruas. Checando as pistas.

Mas sua alegria foi passageira.

"Preciso de um favor" Peña estava ao lado de sua mesa, sério e fechado.

Voce saltou da cadeira em um susto. Fechando os olhos.

Seu estômago gelou. Certo, um favor, qual favor? Esfregar meu corpo carente no seu como se eu estivesse desesperada por sexo?

Mas por incrível que pareça, Javier estava tão inexpressivo, que você chegou a pensar que o episódio na sala de arquivos poderia ter sido um sonho.

O velho Agente Peña estava de volta?

Você coçou o nariz.

"Ok..." Você estralou os olhos aguardando a continuação.

"Recebemos uma denúncia sobre uma possível localização de La Quica, mas não posso pedir ao Coronel que nos libere uma equipe, para verificar um local só porque compraram uma privada igual a que Escobar usava em La Catedral”

"Uma privada?" Você piscou para ele.

"Preciso que o requerimento chegue ao Central Spike para que o avião sobrevoe a área para vermos se capturamos alguma escuta, e confirmamos alguma localização.

"Uma escuta, sobre uma privada?" Você olhou para ele sobre os cílios.

Ele bufou, e desviou o olhar de você.

"Você precisa de uma autorização para uma escuta sobre uma privada?" Você não conseguia evitar o sorriso em seu rosto.

Javier olhou pra você com os olhos fixos, nervoso. Do jeito que ele sempre foi com você.

Ai estava o Agente Peña que você conhecia. Insolente. Era o que você queria pensar. Mas você só conseguiu ver o quanto ele estava nervoso. E era difícil, porque você se sentia confortável lidando com o babaca, não com esse homem cheio de sentimentos.

"Desculpa, eu não sei se..."

"É muito importante!" Ele se inclinou na sua mesa.

"Tudo é muito importante"

"Não tô com tempo para brincadeiras"

"Não estou brincando, estou trabalhando, quem precisa de uma escuta pra uma privada é você não eu"

"É. Importante." Ele disse pausadamente "você sabe o que La Quica representa, não seja estúpida"

Você fica chocada com a ofensa.

"Desculpa... eu... realmente não quis..."

Honestidade. Javier Peña tinha honestidade dentro de si?

"Eu imagino que seja. Eu realmente imagino. Mas não posso liberar outro requerimento para você com urgência, quando você saiu daqui com uma equipe e encontrou um boneco com o rosto do Presidente."

Ele bateu na sua mesa.

“Merda!”

Ele fechou os olhos. E respirou fundo. Abaixando a cabeça.

"Desculpa" você falou em um tom mais baixo.

"Eu realmente preciso desse requerimento, merda" ele bateu levemente na sua mesa, decepcionado consigo mesmo, e com seu trabalho.

Era visível à exaustão dele, nessa caça de cão e gato.

Ele se afastou da sua mesa. Passando as mãos pelo rosto.

Você puxou o ar pela boca, para falar. Mas hesitou. Estralou os lábios.

Ele te olhou, os olhos tristes e casados.

"Vá até Central Spike, vou enviar o requerimento"

Ele fez uma pausa processando, depois cresceu pelo menos 10 centímetros recuperando a postura com sua fala. E dando passos para trás.

Parou na metade do caminho.

Ele voltou até sua mesa apressado, se inclinou para alcançar seu olhar que já estava na máquina de escrever preenchendo o formulário. Você olhou para ele.

"Obrigado" ele murmurou.

Você assentiu.

"Vai" você murmurou.

Merda.

Você precisaria fazer uma auto análise. Se o ocorrido da noite passada, estivesse afetando seu julgamento. Isso poderia interferir em toda uma operação.

Mas ao mesmo tempo, seu pânico inicial, se dissipou rapidamente, depois que vocês estavam realmente falando sobre trabalho. Talvez você consiga separar as coisas.

Do que você estava falando? Foi apenas um beijo. Por Deus. Tenha paciência.

***

Bom, com você recepcionando as demandas do Embaixador, você conseguiu ouvir as escutas. Você precisava registrá-las para mandá-las a Bogotá.

Você, Agente Murphy, Agente Peña e Messina, avaliaram a foto de satélite do local onde as escutas foram capturadas.

"Qual dos sítios tem acesso pelo leste e oeste?" Messina questionou.

Murphy indicou na imagem.

"É grande e luxuoso, tem acesso pelos dois lados, só poderia ser esse, é o estilo de Escobar" Peña completou.

"Podemos atacar pelos dois lados" Murphy sugeriu.

"E Pinzón?" Peña perguntou se direcionando para você "precisamos de veículos e agentes"

Você assentiu.

"Deixe Pinzón comigo."

Murphy e Peña se entreolharam.

Você semicerrou os olhos para eles, com raiva da dúvida da sua capacidade passando pelos cérebros miúdos deles.

Peña deu de ombros. E você saiu.

Em casos assim, você poderia ignorar alguns protocolos, e ir direto na fonte. Ao invés de preencher formulários de requerimentos e aguardar que fossem avaliados, você foi diretamente falar com o Coronel Pinzón.

"Não vou liberar homens nenhum para vocês, seus agentes capturaram o presidente George Bush da última vez em que saíram com meus homens"

"Foram baseados em denúncias, desta vez temos a escuta da voz de Velazco" você explicava calmamente.

"Você pensa que meus homens trabalham para você, e seus agentes americanos, mas a realidade é que eu digo como podemos trabalhar conjuntamente, são coisas diferentes. Não vou liberar nenhuma operação. Você precisa se atentar aos seus formulários"

Você queria agredir esse coronelzinho de quinta categoria. Mas sabia que a humilhação poderia ser muito maior, de outras formas.

Você já sabia o que fazer.

Infelizmente seu caminho de volta à sua mesa, tinha que passar pelos Agentes Murphy e Peña.

"O que ele disse?" Peña perguntou, seguindo o seu caminhar com os olhos, assim que você apontou no corredor.

"Ele disse não" você respondeu sem olhar para ele e continuou caminhando.

Murphy e Peña se entreolharam. E bufaram.

"Com esse rostinho bonito, e essa voz meiga, ela jamais vai conseguir alguma coisa com esses coronéis, o Embaixador é maluco deixando esse chaveiro cuidando das coisas por aqui, nós estamos fodidos."

Peña não disse nada, e franziu o cenho pra o parceiro. Ele sabia que sua boca rápida não era apenas para provocá-lo. Você era competente o suficiente. Ele precisava confiar em você.

"Dê a ela uma chance" Peña murmurou para Murphy que revirou os olhos.

Todo mundo trabalha pra alguém. Era esse o seu raciocínio.

Então você ligou para seu chefe Crosby. E Crosby ligou para o Presidente Gaviria. E em menos de 15 minutos, o Coronel Pinzón estava beijando a lona sem você ter precisado mover um músculo contra a cara feia dele.

Javier tentou conter o sorriso quando você chegou com a notícia, mas ele estava orgulhoso demais de você para se conter.

Murphy e ele saíram para as preparações da operação.

Antes de passar por você, ele parou.

"Bom trabalho." Ele murmurou.

"Eu faço o meu melhor." Voce murmurou.

E eles partiram.

Você estava confiante. Aguardando. Aflita. Se contorcendo por não receber nenhuma ligação do rádio informando. Será que nesse momento eles estavam presos? Será que nesse momento um guerra havia sido iniciada?

Você andava de um lado para o outro. Não conseguiria dormir até que eles voltassem.

Quando eles retornaram. Pela cara deles, você sabia que não havia sido dessa vez.

Você suspirou.

Viu de longe Peña, Murphy e Messina decepcionados. Resolveu que não era um bom momento para questionamentos.

Os olhos de Peña encontraram os seus de longe, você conseguia saber tudo que ele gostaria de dizer apenas com olhar.

Não foi dessa vez, e agora vai ser muito pior.

Era isso que os olhos dele diziam. Em todos esses anos acompanhando essa perseguição contra Pablo, você sabia que toda vez que estavam perto, e falhavam, o próximo capítulo seria pior. Vocês ainda estavam na cidade de Escobar. Esse pensamento te estremeceu. Você engoliu em seco.

Ele desviou o olhar. E você assentiu.

E la estava. Seu sexto sentido nunca falhou. E Pablo Escobar era previsível.

Alguns dias após a operação. Uma movimentação do lado de fora da Academia, fez com que todo o departamento corresse para fora.

Não parava de chegar carros com policiais feridos. Baleados. Outros sem braço. Sem perna. Cinza de poeira de concreto.

Sofremos um atentado.

Você estava andando no meio de pelo menos 40 feridos. Os olhos arregalados. Seu corpo tremia. Seu estômago te traía. Você tinha vontade de vomitar.

Tudo isso porque você requereu uma operação na calada da noite para a casa de Pablo Escobar, que foi fracassada, entre tentativas de negociações de Pablo e os políticos.

Você escutava as pessoas gritando. Helicópteros pousando. Sirenes de ambulâncias. Parecia que você ia desmaiar enquanto rodava em torno de si mesma olhando toda aquela cena de guerra.

Javier segurou seus braços, te parando. Você pulou em um susto.

"Tudo bem, sou eu" ele falou olhando em seus olhos.

Você piscava desesperadamente, horrorizada enquanto seu corpo tremia.

"Vem, vamos tirar você daqui" ele passou o braço pelo seu ombro, e foi guiando você para dentro "Vai ficar tudo bem" murmurava repetidamente no seu ouvido.

Vocês entraram, e Javier te levou para uma sala em silêncio, ele fechou a porta atrás de vocês, e arrastou uma cadeira pra você.

"É minha culpa" você falou sem expressão no rosto, enquanto se sentava.

"Para..." ele balançou a cabeça.

"Todos esses homens..." você engoliu em seco, "é minha culpa"

"Não é sua culpa. Olhe para mim" Javier se agachou em sua frente segurando seu rosto em suas mãos.

Vocês não tiveram a oportunidade de conversar para que ele contasse como a operação havia sido. Eles mesmos reportaram juntamente com o Coronel Pinzón, para Crosby, e você também não foi atrás dele depois iniciando conversas paralelas sobre o assunto.

"Pinzón vacilou, e agiu como um amador, ele poderia chegar na surdina, mas faltou ligar as sirenes para que todos soubessem que estávamos chegando. Pablo viu, e teve tempo de fugir. Você fez um excelente trabalho. Você conseguiu tudo que precisávamos" ele completou.

"E então todos morreram" sua voz falhava.

Os olhos de Javier dançavam pelo seu rosto.

"Olhe para mim" ele puxou seu rosto para ele.

Você olhou. E o conforto fez seus olhos marejarem.

"Escobar mata cerca de 400 policiais por ano, toda a porra de ano, isso não é sua culpa, é culpa da atitude de Pinzón, você está me escutado?"

Você assentiu para ele, os olhos molhados.

"Não é sua culpa" ele repetiu.

Você assentiu novamente.

Mas o que passava pela sua cabeça, era que você seria demitida no mais tardar até o fim do dia. Você respirava de forma irregular. Seu corpo estava sem controle. Você tinha espasmos e arrepios.

"Você está em choque. Vou buscar uma água para você" Peña se levantou, e saiu.

E você se permitiu chorar. Sozinha, até que ele voltasse.

Você agradeceu silenciosamente por ele estar ali com você, e ter te tirado do meio de tudo aquilo. Você não tinha condições de aguentar aquilo. Não era parte do seu trabalho. As coisas estavam caminhando de uma forma que você não tinha muito controle sobre.

Mas Javier Peña te transmitia algum tipo de segurança e conforto. Fazia alguns anos que vocês trabalhavam juntos, e entre tapas e agora beijos, você poderia dizer que ele era o mais próximo de um “colega” que você teve dentro desse setor em anos.

Você estava se rendendo ao inimigo. Mas olhando assim de perto, ele não parecia mais o inimigo. De alguma forma, em algum momento que você não sabe exatamente qual, alguma coisa mudou. Você estava tendo acesso a outro Agente Peña, um que você não tinha conhecido. Que não era exatamente como a descrição das suas colegas de trabalho, e que não se encaixava no perfil odioso que você tinha criado dele.

Alguma coisa estava mudando.