Your marriage to him had been impulsive, you were well aware of that. You would have been the first person, besides him, to admit that. But that didn’t mean you regretted a moment of it. Your time with him had been fun, wild, and he made you feel like no one else ever had before. You’d been deeply, madly, crazily in love with him and you still harbored a lot of love for him now. He’d given you so much, including the single best thing in your life - Diego. The son you shared with him and you both loved more than anything else in the world. If he was anything, he was an amazing father and while the two of you were no longer together, you wouldn’t have picked anyone else to have a child with.
But just because you were divorced didn’t mean those old feelings were all gone…
In the beginning
“We should really stop meeting like this,” you rolled your eyes at Javier, watching as he locked the storeroom’s door behind him. He leaned against the door, arms crossed over his broad chest as before you gave in and flitted over to him, “mi chiquita bonita.”
“If you want to stop meeting like this, why don’t you come over later?” his hands had found your waist as you leaned in, brushing your nose against his, “because we’re not having sex in here again. You almost knocked over half the cabinets last time, cielito.”
“Come on,” he kissed you before you could argue, the taste of the sweet pastry he’d had in place of a proper lunch clinging to his lips. He easily swallowed your moan as you tried not to give into him and let him have the upper hand, “we’ll be quick, baby. I can take my time with you later…”
“Javier,”yeah. You were ready to give in already. He had an effortless effect over you. You could feel him smirking against your lips and when you pulled back, there was nothing but mischief in those big, brown eyes, “fine, pendejo. But be quick and quiet.”
“I don’t think it’s going to take much to make you cum,” he’d already started kissing along your jaw as you just sighed. He deftly unbuttoned your trousers and was pulling them down along with the lace panties you’d worn. A small gasp escaped your lips as he dragged a thick finger through your folds, “so wet already. All for me?”
“You’re the worst,” there was a huge smile on your face as kissed him, “but I love you.”
“Te amo,” he whispered, “now let me make you cum.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I have a crazy idea,” Javi walked back into your bedroom, clad in only his boxers as he brought water and some pastries for the two of you. He always denied that he had a sweet tooth, but this was a prime example. Maybe it didn’t help that you kept his favorite sweets on hand, but it was just a little something you liked to do for him.
“Oh?” you asked as he laid back down next to you, taking a moment to press a kiss to your forehead, “pray tell, mi cielito.”
“Let’s get married.”
“I…what?” The laughter you burst into caught you so off guard that you choked on your own saliva and ended up wheezing through your tears. Javier just shoved his mouth full of the sweet dessert as he pouted at you, clearly not on board with your amusement. Once you calmed down, you realized that he…he might have been making a serious comment, “qué pasa, Javi? En serio?”
“I’m glad to see you take me seriously,” he huffed, a light flush of color creeping into his cheeks.
“Javier,” you grabbed the plate and set it on the nightstand before shifting so you were sitting in his lap. You put your hand on his face, gently stroking his cheek, “what are you talking about? Are you being completely serious?”
“Yes,” the corners of his mouth twitched up into a small smile as he relaxed, “I am.”
“I never thought…you said you didn’t want marriage, you wouldn’t ever want it,” you raised an eyebrow at him before he leaned in and gently kissed you. It was so soft and tender compared to the sex you’d had just shortly before, “what’s gotten into you?”
“I’ve never had you before,” he whispered so softly, almost to the point where you weren’t sure it was meant for you to hear, “I guess I just needed you to change my mind.”
“Oh Javier,” you took his face delicately in your hands, studying him intently, “I love you, silly man. But I don’t want to hear you ask me that unless you mean it and fully intend on committing to it.”
“Well then,” he smiled gently, that ridiculously adorable crinkly-eyed, dimple displaying smile that managed to sweep you off your feet, “will you marry me?”
“Yes,” he leaned in and kissed you, his lips lingering against yours, “I’ll marry you, Javier. Nothing would make me happier.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───v
“Oh fuck,” you held the small plastic stick in front of you, angling it in different ways to see if maybe you were reading it incorrectly. Maybe it was a trick of the light? Maybe this one was wrong.
Huffing lightly, you grabbed the other test out of the box and sat down the toilet, thankful you’d consumed plenty of water so you didn’t have to wait to have to go again. You quickly finished and set it on the counter, stepping out of the bathroom to pace around the apartment nervously. Javier was still at work and you’d left early when you weren’t feeling well. Little did you know that it all suddenly made sense - maybe. Hopefully not, you sighed.
Once the short wait was finally up, you jammed it back into the bathroom, and picked up the test. Not to your surprise at all, this one came back as positive just like the first.
“Oh no,” suddenly a million thoughts were racing through your mind as you tried to make sense of it all. Pregnant. You were pregnant. While you were surprised, shocked, and worried, a part of you was…excited. The idea that you and Javier were going to have a child was amazing.
But then you remembered your situation. Colombia in the middle of a drug war with your husband working for the DEA. While you worked at the embassy, your job was much more clerical and you were safe compared to him but it still wasn’t ideal. Had it been any other time and place, this would have been the most wonderful moment of your life. Instead, a pit of worry settled into your stomach. What were you going to even do?
By the time Javier made it home, it was late and he’d expected you to be fast asleep. He found you sitting on the floor next to the fridge with tears running down your face. He quickly came over and got down on the floor next to you, looking you over to make sure everything was okay, “Javi.”
“What’s wrong, baby?” his eyes were wide with concern as he wiped some of your tears away, “what happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m pregnant,” you blurted it out without any hesitation, more tears running down your cheeks, “I’m sorry, so sorry.”
“Whatever are you sorry for?” you weren’t sure what his reaction was going to be, but calmness was not what you had been expecting, “first of all, it takes two to do this. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“I’m scared,” you admitted, letting him pull you into lap, “but I’m happy too. I know we hadn’t planned on this, at least not for a long time, but I’m so happy.”
“Want to know what’s even crazier?” he joked as you looked at him, all nervous smiles and doe eyes, “I think this might be one of the happiest moments of my life.”
“Do you want this too?” you whispered as he nodded excitedly before kissing you, not caring in the slightest about the salty taste, “oh, Javi. We’re having a baby. A whole, real human being.”
“You’re amazing,” he nudged his nose against yours, “I know you’re scared and fuck. Me too, baby. The idea of having to deal with countless sicarios scares me less than the thought of having a baby. But, I’m so happy. And there’s no one else I’d want to do this with. We’ll figure it out, I promise. We’ll make it work and give this baby nothing but the best.”
“Okay,” you nodded before wrapping your arms around him and burrowing your face into his chest, “I love you, Javi.”
“I love you more, cariño.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Javier’s grip on you was like a vice as you hugged him tightly, “you’re going to be okay, baby.”
“I’m going to miss you more,” you pouted before pulling away from him. He brushed a few stray locks of hair out of your face before gently touching your barely there bump, “I want to stay. Please let me stay here with you.”
“It’s not safe,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to control the stinging behind his eyes, “I don’t want anything to happen or even leave a fraction of a chance that you could get hurt. You’ll be safe and taken care of with Pops. He’s already got my old room all ready for you, and I’m sure he’s got the embarrassing childhood photos on display. Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this handsome.”
“Shut up,” you laughed through your tears, “I’m sure you’ve been a heartbreaker since childhood, Javier. I can’t wait to get there but I wish you were coming with me. So much is going to happen in the next couple of months and I don’t want you to miss it.”
“I wish I was coming too,” he promised. The idea that he was going to miss out on the majority of your pregnancy was heartbreaking, but he would rather have you someone safe where you’d be with family than be selfish and keep you with him, “I’ll be back for the birth. I swear it. Until then, you’ll just have to keep me updated, send lots of pictures and I’ll call you as often as I can. We’ll be okay.”
“I will,” here you were crying again, wishing he would change his mind and come with you or keep you there. But you knew that going back to the States was the best thing for your family right now, “you better be back, pendejo. I’m not pushing out your baby without you in the room.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” the last call for boarding for your flight was announced over the speakers as your heart clenched, “you better get going.”
“Javi-”
“I know,” his voice cracked slightly, “call me when you get home. I love you, okay?”
“I love you more,” you grabbed your carry on before he kissed you one last time, “come home soon, Javi.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Javier’s blood was pounding in his ears as he ran into the hospital, quickly finding the signs for the labor and delivery ward. He’d just come from the airport; an early arrival of the baby and a delayed flight had caused him to almost lose it. He’d promised you that he would be there for the birth and he was going to stick to that promise.
“Sir! You can’t run in the hospital,” a nurse called after him as he ran in the direction of the room Chucho had told him you were in.
“My wife’s having our first child!” he shouted in response, dodging an incoming gurney, “I can’t miss it!”
By the time he made it to your room, he’d been able to hear the pain you were in from down the hall. He popped in and looked around, getting chided for just bursting in. He quickly explained who he was in and before he knew it, a surgical gown and hair net were shoved into his hands.
“Javi?” your voice sounded so small as you looked around for him. As soon as you spotted him, tears ran down your cheeks, “you made it.”
“I promised I’d be here,” he grinned as he came and leaned down to kiss you, “this baby didn’t make it easy.”
“Just like you,” you laughed before squeezing your eyes shut as another contraction came, “making life that much harder. But I still love you. But this hurts so bad.”
“I love you more,” he whispered, “you’re so strong, baby. You’re almost there and we almost have our baby. Just a little bit more. Look how much you’ve already accomplished.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” you took the hand he held out for you, “and I’m excited to meet our baby. But you’re never touching me again after this.”
“Whatever you want, cariño,” he promised, “whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
“Okay,” you whimpered as another wave of pain overwhelmed you and the doctor told you it was time to start pushing, “okay.”
A few hours later, you were exhausted and experiencing a million different emotions all at once. Giving birth was officially the hardest thing you had ever done - but it was all worth it as soon as you saw Javier holding your newborn son, all swaddled up in a pretty pastel blanket that one of the tías had made. You weren’t sure which one of you was more emotional.
“He’s perfect,” Javi whispered as he sat down next to you, carefully holding the baby so he wouldn’t wake him up, “I can’t believe we made him.”
“Making him was the fun part,” you managed to joke in between yawns, “now the hardest part starts. We’re parents, Javi. That’s our son.”
“I love you,” he whispered softly, “thank you for…everything.”
“Nothing to thank me for. Those are half your genes,” you grinned, “did you pick a name yet?”
“Diego,” he gently touched his son’s chubby little cheek, “what about you?”
“Francisco,” you gave him a sleepy smile, “Diego Francisco. It’s perfect.”
“It is,” he agreed, swallowing the lump that had welled up in his throat, “just like him. Just rest, baby. You’ve done so much.”
“Okay,” your eyes were already fluttering shut, “just for a little bit. If he cries, just wake me up.”
“Of course,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. You were out like a light within seconds. He was amazed by everything that had happened today; it had been a wild ride from start to finish. His entire life changed in a matter of a few short hours, “te amo, mi sol.”
That morning he had still been in Colombia, frantically trying to catch a flight back to Texas at the drop of a hat. Your son had decided to make an early appearance, coming a few weeks earlier than either of you had planned. But he was going to make it; a delayed flight wasn’t going to stop him. And now, here he was, holding his newborn son, a life that the two of you had created. In such a short period he had become a father and you a mother.
“The world can be such a cruel, horrible place mijito,” he whispered softly, “but I’ll do everything to make sure you never have to experience even a bit of that. I’ll always keep you and your mamá safe. I’ll always love you.”
The baby made a few small sounds, but didn’t wake up as Javier held him against his chest. Maybe this was all terrifying and scary, but at the same time, this was the best day of his life.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Are you serious?” between your emotions, the crying baby, and Javier’s nonchalant attitude, you were ready to completely lose it. Little did you know he was trying to keep it together just as much as you. The idea of being away from you was enough to break his whole heart, “you’re going to leave just like that?”
“Baby,” Javier sighed as he wiped a hand over his tired face, “we always knew I was going to have to go back. I won’t be gone for long, I promise.”
“You have no way of knowing that,” you frowned deeply, trying to keep it together as you picked Diego out of his crib, “we both know that. It could be weeks, months, years, Javier. Are you really going to walk out on your son like that? I don’t give a shit about what you do to me, Javier, I’m too run down and tired. But Diego’s just a baby.”
“You think I just want to leave!?” he hadn’t meant to shout; but he was just so angry. Not at you, not at your son, but at the fact that he had to leave and he knew he didn’t really have an option, “I’m going to end this all and then come back home. And don’t even bother to suggest that the two of you come with me. Over my dead body. You’re staying here where you’re safe.”
“You can’t walk away,” you were crying now as the baby quieted down, “please don’t leave, Javi. I can’t do this alone. I-I’m scared. What if something happens to you? I can’t bear the thought that something could happen.”
“You don’t have to worry about me,” his shoulders slumped as he came over and wrapped an arm around you. He was crying now too, “I’ll be home soon, I promise. But you’ll be much better off here, and Pop will help you with whatever you need.”
“I know, but it’s not the same,” you whispered softly, “Javier. Promise me that you’ll be safe and come back home to us soon.”
“I swear it,” he whispered, “nothing could keep me from the two of you.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“I want a divorce,” as the words crashed around him, he felt his knees go weak. He quickly grabbed onto the counter to keep himself from collapsing on the floor. Those were words he’d never expected to hear. Never. The silence on the line was tangible; he could hear your stuttered breathing on the other end of the line, “Javi? Did you hear me?”
“Why?”
“Why?” you repeated, your voice cracking and choked up with sobs, “are you seriously asking me that? Because you’re not here! You said you’d be back soon and it’s been a year. I’ve seen you twice in that time. It’s not fair to me, or Diego…or you. Who knows when you’re going to be back for good?”
“I promise it’ll be soon,” he was sure his heart was going to stop, “please don’t do this. I’ll do whatever it takes. I love you.”
“I know,” you sniffled before exhaling slowly. This was harder than you had ever anticipated. That was probably because you were still as madly in love with him now as you were back then, “that’s what makes this even harder. I know you love me, and I know you love our son. But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t put all of our lives on hold while you’re gone for who knows how long. What you’re doing is dangerous and I worry about you every day, Javi. I don’t want our son to grow up without you. Even if you hate me for this, please come home soon for him.”
“I will,” his throat felt like it was constricting as he tried to process your words. All he knew was that this was the last thing he ever wanted, “for both of you. Please just be a little more patient…please.”
“Javier,” both of you were crying now. You hated yourself for doing this but you weren’t sure what else to do. You’d tried calling, writing, and asking for him to come for at least a visit or offered to go to him. But every time he would tell you to keep holding on just a little bit longer. You just couldn’t do it anymore, “I know what you’re doing is important. I understand that, but this is hard for me too. I went through almost my entire pregnancy without you here, you were here for a month after he was born, and ever since then it’s been two visits. Maybe I’m the worst person in the world, but I just…I can’t do this.”
“Baby…”
“I know, Javier,” you whispered softly, “I love you. I do, and I always will. But I don’t think this is going to work for us. But I want you to know that I will never, ever keep your son from you. He will always know how much you love him, and when you finally come back home, we’ll figure out the co-parenting thing.”
“I’m sorry,” he closed his eyes, wishing that this would all turn out to be some horrible nightmare, “I love you.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” you sighed, “in an ideal world things would be so different. But this isn’t an ideal world, is it? You will always have my love, cielito. Will you promise me one thing?”
“Anything.”
“Take care of yourself. Stay safe and come home for Diego soon, okay?”
“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he let out a shaky breath, “I promise.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Hey,” you grinned when he picked up your call, “sorry for calling so late, but I’ve got good news!”
“And just what would this good news happen to be?” you could practically hear the smile on his face.
“I - we - sold the house today,” you grinned, “one less thing we have to worry about. Everything Is in escrow right now, but I’ll make sure the broker puts half of the profits into both of our accounts. Let me know if that doesn’t work for whatever reason, but yeah…this is good.”
“Keep it,” he insisted as you groaned at him, “keep the money. Really, you deserve it and I know you’ll make good use of it for Diego. I want to make sure the two of you are taken care of.”
“Javier,” you huffed lightly, “it’s a decent chunk of money and I don’t feel right taking it all. I’ve got more than enough with work and then my half. What about when you move back? That’s a good chunk for retirement, you can build the house you want…”
“I should know better than to argue with you, shouldn’t I?” he teased as you grinned victoriously.
“You should absolutely know that by now,” you insisted, “you should have known that well before we got married…anyways, I’ll let you go, I’m sure you’re busy. Take care and be safe, cielito. Diego and I both want you to come home soon and in one piece.”
“Oh? The baby told you that?” he chuckled warmly as you told to shut up.
“He’s not a baby baby anymore! He’s two and yes, he told me he misses his daddy and he will kick your ass if you don’t come home to see him soon,” you grinned, “straight from his mouth!”
“Aye, cállate,” a wash of longing came over him as he realized just how much he missed his son, and you, “talk to you soon, cariño.”
“Bye Javi,” you paused for a moment, listening to the sound of his soft breathing before hanging up. You sighed lightly as you leaned against the kitchen counter, looking around your new apartment. It was nice, small but still ample space for you and Diego. It wasn’t home yet, no that was still the house that you and Javi had just sold in the wake of your divorce. But one day it would be, you’d move on just like everything else did.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Are you ready to see your papá, mi amor?” you were running around and finishing packing an overnight bag for him to take to Javier’s house. It would have to do for now until Javier was more settled in and was able to put a room together for him at his new house.
“Yes,” he grinned excitedly as he handed you one of his favorite toys to add to the bag, “I get to see daddy all the time now!”
“It’s very exciting,” you agreed before sitting down at the edge of his small bed, pulling him onto your lap, “your papá loves you very much. But you have to remember he’s still settling back into normal life.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…he’s been working really hard for a long time chasing bad guys and trying to make the world a better place. It’s a big change from doing that for years and then coming home to family and having a safe, quiet job. Some days might be harder and he might be a little different. But just remember, it doesn’t have a thing to do with you - you are the most important thing in the world to him,” how were you supposed to explain just exactly what he spent so long doing to a five year old? You figured this very simplified version would suffice for now; you’d tell him the rest when he was mucholder.
“Oh,” he nodded deeply in what you assumed was semi-understanding, “do you think he’d like a stuffed animal? He can have my giraffe! Or maybe the elephant?”
“I think he’d love the elephant,” you cuddled him tightly before kissing the top of his head, “you’re a good boy, Diego. We’re so lucky you picked us to be your parents.”
“Does that mean we can stop and get candy when we go?” he slid off your lap before making sure to grab the plushie, handing it to you to pack away in his bag.
“You’ll have to ask your papá,” you grinned, knowing Javi would never let you hear the end of it, “alright, kiddo, vamos.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
By the time you’d arrived at Javier’s house, a short drive across town, Diego was already half asleep, and you decided to take pity on him and carry him in. You gently knocked on the door, listening for Javier’s familiar gate as you hummed quietly to your son. It wasn’t long before he opened the door, a huge smile on his face at the sight of the two of you.
“Hi cielito,” you whispered, “the kid’s mostly asleep, which means he’ll be up in about an hour or so ready for dinner and whatever shenanigans the two of you get up to. Can you be a love and grab his bag from the car and I’ll get him inside?”
“Of course,” he gave your arm a gentle squeeze as he brushed past you. His familiar smell, something you’d always liked, overwhelmed you for a moment as you stepped inside and walked into the living room to put on the couch. He made a small sound but didn’t wake up as you gently touched his cheek, “got everything.”
“Thanks,” you smiled at him, causing his heart to skip for a moment, “he put a little surprise in there for you. I’m sure he’ll be excited to give it to you later.”
“I can’t believe we’re finally at this point,” he sighed as he shook his head, almost not believing his own fortune, “I can’t believe I can finally be a real dad and see my kid on a regular basis.”
“You’ve always been a real dad,” you promised softly, “he knows that too. I’ve always explained to him that you work hard and if you could have been with him every day you would have. Now you can have that. We’re almost like a normal family now.”
“Besides the fact that we’re divorced you mean,” he kept his tone pointedly neutral as you shrugged lightly, “thank you for bringing him over.”
“As if that was ever a question,” you laughed lightly, “I think there’s enough stuff in his bag for now until you can get everything else settled and get all the stuff for him to have here. If you need anything, just let me know. I’m just…a short drive away.”
“Great, yeah, that’s…great,” he walked you to the door and you lingered for a moment, part of you wishing you didn’t have to walk out and leave, “I’ll see you soon then. We’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Perfect,” you offered him a small smile before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “welcome home, Javier. I’m so happy you’re finally here…you’re safe and sound.”
“Thanks, cariño,” he opened the door for you, half tempted to ask you to stay. But what reason would he even offer? I just want you to stay? Stay and don’t ever leave? He was sure neither of those would exactly go over well with you, “I’m glad to be home too. For good this time.”
“I’m counting on it, Peña,” you turned back to wave at him before getting into your car, “I’m not raising the monster alone!”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
In the Now
“Do you want to dance?” you turned to your date with curious eyes as you finished the rest of your drink. His hand was on your knee and he gave it a gentle squeeze as a shiver of excitement ran through your entire body, “or should we get another round of drinks first? I can’t say I’m exactly the best dancer but maybe with some liquid courage…”
“Yes and yes,” you agreed, leaning in so your faces were only a few inches apart, “I don’t want to brag but I’m a pretty good dancer. Perks of living in Colombia for a few years!”
“I guess you’ll have to take the lead then, querida,” you nodded before giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “I’ll get us another round and then we’ll dance.”
“Perfect,” he leaned in and kissed your cheek before making his way over to the bar. You watched him go, a wistful little sigh escaping your lips as his retreating back. He was handsome; tall, dark haired with friendly eyes and a clean-shaven face that gave him an almost boyish appearance.
You’d been set up with him through a mutual friend and you’d like him instantly. He was easy to get along with and you had enjoyed the time you’d spent with him. Julián was definitely someone you could have seen yourself with in the future, and will you really enjoyed seeing but there was just something that didn’t quite sit right within yourself. It wasn’t even him…it was definitely you.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he’d returned while you were lost in your thoughts. You took the drink he placed in front of you and took a long drink. He was amused, raising an eyebrow in question as you couldn’t help but giggle.
“Nothing at all,” you promised, trying to keep all of the deep, internal thoughts to the very back of your head, “come on, Julián. Hurry up so we can dance!”
Dancing with him was easy; the two of you flowed well with one another and it was easy to forget all the doubts and worries you had for a little while. What you hadn’t realized was that Javier had decided to go to the same spot for a drink after a long week. Diego was spending some time with Chucho and he figured it was better to go out for a bit rather than just sit around at home. But then he spotted you and it felt like he had made the entirely wrong decision.
His heart constricted at the sight of you, laughing and having fun, with a man that wasn’t him. A sense of jealousy ran through him when he realized that he had no right to be jealous. You were his ex-wife after all. But that didn’t help how he felt, how it made his blood boil with annoyance, and his heart yearn for your touch. But he couldn’t blame you; he’d been gone, in and out basically, for several years. It would have been selfish of him to just expect you to wait around for him when you still had so much life to live.
That didn’t mean it made him love any less than he did in the beginning.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"Do you still love mamá?” His son’s question caught him off guard as he took him out of his car seat to drop him back off at your apartment. He set him down on the sidewalk before kneeling down so he was at eye level with him.
“Of course I do,” he insisted, ruffling his dark curls, “she’s very important to me. Just like you, mijo.”
“I know that,” he rolled his eyes dramatically. Where did this kid get all the sass from? Definitely his father, you had always insisted with a laugh. Diego reminded him so much of you in little ways, just as he reminded you of Javier, “but are you inlove with her?”
“I…why do you ask?” Javier’s heart suddenly felt like it was pounding in his chest. Why was his five-year-old son suddenly interrogating him?
“She’s still in love with you, daddy,” he insisted as Javier tried to keep a neutral expression on his face.
“Did she tell you that?”
“No,” he shook his head as Javier raised an eyebrow at him, “I can just tell. She was going out with Julián but she broke up with him. I heard her on the phone…she said she wasn’t in love with him and didn’t want to lead him on.”
"And just how do you know that means she’s in love with me? She’s still my best friend, Diego. She gave me the most important thing in my life - you. And we both love you.”
“I know, daddy,” he put his little hand on Javier’s shoulder and attempted to give him a serious look, “I’m telling you - she broke up with Julián because she’s still in love with you. If she wasn’t she’d still be with him because she liked him a lot and said he was funny and handsome and nice.”
“Aye, mijito,” he couldn’t help but laugh at the serious look on the young boy’s face. He scooped him up in his arms before heading into the apartment building, “you’re a good boy. You don’t have anything to worry about, even if we don’t live together or we date other people in the future, it doesn’t mean we’ll love you or each other less. You’ll always have your mamá and me in your life.”
Diego made a small sound but otherwise remained quiet as Javier brought him up to your apartment. He knocked the door and it was only a few moments before you opened it, a big smile on your face.
“My boys,” you grinned as Javier set Diego down, the young boy immediately moving to hug you. You leaned and pressed a kiss to the top of his dark curls, “hi baby! Were you good for daddy this weekend?”
“Yeah,” he nodded as you looked to Javier for confirmation. He playfully rolled his eyes before nodding as well.
“Good boy,” you stroked his cheek, “there’s some fresh baked cookies in the kitchen. You can go and have one, okay? Only one!”
“Bye daddy! See you soon,” and with a hug to his father’s legs, he ran into the kitchen as you both laughed.
“Did you two have fun?” you leaned against the doorframe, tempted to invite him in but not wanting to make things weird or awkward. How would you have asked anyway? Stay for dinner because I want my little family to be complete. Don’t ever leave me. Stay. Instead you pushed all your feelings to the side, “I know he’s been having some trouble sleeping lately so I hope it wasn’t too bad.”
“No,” he promised softly, “he did good. We had lots of fun - went to the zoo so he could see his favorite lemur, this kid is obsessed I swear. We made pizza for dinner and went real crazy on Saturday and stayed up late to watch a movie. He was out like a light in less than thirty minutes. Right on top of me - I didn’t have the heart to move him so I just let him sleep until he had to go to the bathroom.”
“Sounds like fun,” you grinned, “maybe we’ll have to have a family pizza night soon? I-if that sounds okay to you, that is. I don’t just want to assume you want to spend time with me.”
“I think that sounds perfect,” he promised softly before ever so gently reaching over to push a lock of hair out of your face, “I love spending time with him and you.”
"Javi…”
"Hmm?” he was so close; close to where you could smell his delicious cologne and feel his body heat. Your mind went haywire as you tried to figure out what to say. What to say without fucking anything up that is.
“It’s…ugh. Nothing,” you lied as you shook your head, “have a good night. I’ll have Diego call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Of course,” he smiled lightly, almost as if he was expecting you to say what was really on your mind, “good night cariño.”
“Good night, Javi.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Mamá?”
“Yes, my love?”
“Are you still in love with daddy?” The question caught you so off guard you almost choked on the bite of cereal you’d just shoved into your mouth, “‘cause he’s still in love with you.”
“Diego,” you laughed affectionately at him as he looked at you with wide eyes, “I still love your dad, but I’m not in love with him. That’s why we’re not married anymore.”
“So? You can still be in love and not married,” this kid was almost too smart for his own good. He really did manage to get the best of both Javier and yourself, “but you broke up with Julián, I heard you tell him. And daddy only went only like three dates with that lady before he told her he wasn’t interested. It’s because you’re both still in love with each other.”
“Too smart for your own, Diego Francisco Peña,” you reached over and touched his cheek gently, “but that means nothing. I’ll always love him, I promise you that. How does that sound?”
“Lame,” he huffed before sliding off his chair, “abuelo was right, you both are fools.”
“He…he said that?”
“Duh,” he insisted as he went to grab his backpack for school, “he said you both still love each other but won’t say anything else 'cause you both are too stubborn and think being apart is the right thing to do.”
“Well,” you couldn’t lie, your curiosity was piqued. You wondered if he had this same conversation with Javier, “the Peña men are both too smart and stubborn and I see you are no exception. But, mi amor, don’t think too much into this and get your hopes up, okay? Come on, let’s get you to school.”
“Fine,” he reached for his lunch box on the counter, “I wish we could all live together so I could be with both of you all the time.”
You froze when you processed what he had said. You didn’t want him to have yearn and wish for that; you wanted to give it to him. But at this point, you weren’t sure if there was any more possibility of making that happen.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
“Chucho,” you were immediately enveloped in a hug as soon as the door was opened, causing you to make a small sound of surprise, “thank you so much for taking Diego today. He’s really excited to go to the movies.”
“I love every moment with my grandson,” he turned to give him a hug, “besides this is perfect movie-watching weather.”
“Can we go get snacks first, abuelo?”
“Of course,” he promised, “we’ll sneak all the good stuff in under our jackets! Let’s get going so we’re not late.”
“Yay!”
“I’ll see you both later tonight,” you pulled up the hood on Diego’s rain jacket but not before kissing the top of his head, “have fun and be good. Both of you!”
“They’re going to get into trouble. I don’t know which one is worse,” Javier’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts as he appeared in the door. You laughed before giving him a quick hug, “hi cariño.”
“Mi cielito,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek before awkwardly standing there for a few moments, “good to see you.”
“It’s only been like…two days,” he snorted in amusement before putting an arm around you and pulling you inside, “come on. Let’s have some coffee.”
“Sounds perfect,” you agreed excitedly, “and just so you know, I always like seeing you, Javier. Even if it’s just been two days.”
“Aye, cállate,” he laughed lightly, “but me too.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You almost hated how easy it was to spend time with Javier. Sometimes you wished you would have disliked him; it would have made pushing down your feelings easier. But then again, you wouldn’t want that for your son; the fact that got along so well definitely was better for him. You couldn’t imagine him having parents that despised each other.
“Hey,” Javier waved his hand in front of your face as you blinked a few times. You hadn’t realized you were that zoned out, “everything alright?”
“Of course,” you swallowed thickly. You glanced at your watch before realizing that over an hour had passed in easy, comfortable conversation, “I…I should get going.”
“Y-yeah…if you’re sure,” he seemed crestfallen by your sudden need to leave as you practically jumped off the couch and headed towards the door, “I guess I’ll see you when I drop Diego off tonight.”
“You don’t have to,” you stammered as he followed closely behind you, “you can just keep him tonight. It’ll be late when they get back and after dinner and all that. Yeah…so. I’ll talk to you later. Tell him I love him, okay? Chucho too.”
“What’s going on?” Of course he wasn’t going to let it go. He could read you without even a bit of effort. He could immediately sense that something had shifted and he had to know what it was. He had to know if…if you felt the same, “you know you can tell me anything.”
You paused for a moment, standing on the porch as you worried your bottom lip. Javier closed the door behind him so the two of you were facing each other with only mere inches between your bodies.
You couldn’t lie to him - or yourself - anymore. He had to know the truth, and if nothing else, it would at least be off your chest.
“Javi,” the sound of his name from your lips still sounded as sweet now as it always it had, making his heart practically constrict in his chest, “I - fuck…I’m still in love with you. I never stopped. I thought…I thought splitting up was better but I was wrong. God, you still frustrate me so much like you always did, you still make me so happy, you…I’m so in love with you. And I think I always will be.”
He was stunned into silence as he stood there, his chest rising and falling heavily, dark eyes twinkling with curiosity. When he didn’t say anything, your heart broke. A sense of regret settled into your bones as you realized you might have just made the biggest mistake of your life. Taking a step back, you cleared your throat before getting ready to run to your car and leave.
“I…I’m sorry,” you stammered nervously, “I shouldn’t have said anything. I just…I had to tell you.”
You almost ran off the porch and back towards your car, wishing the rain would just dissolve right into the ground.
“Wait!” he had to shout over the sound of the downpour but he caught up easily, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, “did you mean it?”
His touch felt electric, raising gooseflesh in its wake as you turned back to face him. A million emotions were written on his face as his heart hammered nervously in his chest. It was so loud within himself that he was surprised you couldn’t hear.
“Yes,” you were already soaked to the bone as face warmth flushed your face, “every word of it.”
“Can I kiss you?”
“What?” Surely the rain must have been playing with your ears. He laughed - that brilliant, warm laugh that made his eyes crinkle in the corners and that singular dimple appear. That in itself was one of the first things you had fallen in love with, “Javi?”
“Can I kiss you?!” there was a smile on his face which led you to thinking that maybe you hadn’t heard him incorrectly after all.
“Why!?”
“Porque te amo,” he was shouting above the rain, which seemed to have decided to come down tenfold, “because I’m in love with you!”
“Really?” where those tears mixed in with the rain that was running down your face?
“Yes,” he was closer now, to where he no longer had to yell, “I always have been. Always will be.”
This time you took the initiative of kissing him, gently taking his face in your hands before you crashed your lips onto his. Your heart was practically bursting with joy as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. He’d been wanting this for so long; it felt like he could breathe again, like everything was as right as the rain. He could feel you smiling against his lips and he wondered just long how your heart ached for him in return.
“I should have done that a long time ago,” he whispered against your lips when you finally pulled away to catch your breath, “I should have come home a long time ago and we shouldn’t have-”
“It’s okay, Javier,” you promised softly, “what matters is that we’re here now.”
“Mamá! Daddy!” Neither of you had heard the sound of Chucho and Diego returning, but you had just enough time to see the small blur run across the yard before he almost knocked you both over.
“Diego, slow down! You’re going to get all wet,” Javier quickly pulled him into his arms, doing his best to shield him from the rain even though it was pointless by now.
“I don’t care,” he grinned, displaying his gap-toothed little smile. He had that same little dimple that his father did, “I told you! You’re both still in love with each other!”
“I guess you were right all along mijito,” you brushed some of his wet curls off his face, “we love you too.”
“I know!” he insisted, “now can you stop kissing and come inside? Abuelo said we can have hot chocolate! Can you…will you both come?”
“Yes,” Javier promised him, “we’re both right here and that’s how it’s going to always be.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Resolution
“Hey honey,” Javier’s arms wrapped around your waist as he stood behind you while you finished the dishes. You immediately stopped what you were doing, grabbing the clean dish towel to dry your hands before leaning back into him. He pushed your hair to the side, exposing your neck and some of your shoulder before pressing his lips over the delicate skin, “I think the dishes can wait.”
“I don’t think you’ve left me much of a choice,” you sighed softly as you turned your head to kiss him properly. When you couldn’t wait anymore, you turned around so you were facing him, taking his face in your hands and pulling him back against your lips. He kissed you back just as enthusiastically, deepening the kiss as his hands found purchase on your waist, “do you think we have enough time for a quickie before-”
“Mamá!” Before you could even get the sentence out, Diego came into the kitchen, face covered in dirt from playing outside. Javier pulled back from you before letting out an almost inaudible sigh, “can I go over to Max’s house for dinner? He said they’re getting pizza for dinner!”
“Did Max ask his mom?” you raised an eyebrow as he nodded eagerly. You exchanged a look with Javier who just shrugged in response. You liked the neighbors, you liked that Diego had a yard again and friends in the neighborhood you’d moved into. Plus, you wagered to yourself, if he was gone for a few hours that gave you some alone with Javier, “alright mister. You can go over for dinner, but tell his mom and dad thank you. Then you invite them over for dinner this weekend, si?”
“Yay!” he cheered before giving you a quick hug.
“Go clean up first,” Javier insisted, “don’t want them thinking we’re uncivilized and raising a renegade.”
“Okay,” he huffed, already halfway out of the kitchen, “you can go back to kissing. Max says that’s what parents do when they love each other. And sometimes they can get a baby from it.”
“Diego,” your face flushed with warmth as you looked at Javier nervously. He was nothing short of amused, “don’t go around saying anything like that.”
“Why?” he pouted, his expression reminding you so much of Javier, “Max is getting a brother now. That sounds cool! I want a brother too.”
“Go clean up mijo,” Javier insisted as he tried to keep himself from dissolving into laughter, “let me know when you’re ready and I’ll walk you over.”
He ran to his bathroom without another word as you waved your hands in exasperation. Javier kissed your forehead as you groaned, “you’re having the talk with him when he’s older. I guess at least he doesn’t know what sex is yet.”
“But we do-”
“Javier!”
“Come on cariño,” he teased as he nudged your hip with his, “he wants a brother. Can’t disappoint him, can we?”
“Javier,” your eyes widened in surprise as you looked at with curious eyes, “I…umm…do you want another kid?”
“I’m not opposed to the idea,” he grinned as your heart swelled with excitement. He was a wonderful father after all, “but it’s up to you. I like the one we’ve got regardless of what happens.”
“You gonna marry me first?”
“I’ve already married you,” he reminded you, “you’re the one that divorced me.”
“Biggest mistake of my life,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, “will you marry me again?”
“I suppose so,” he made an amused sound, “I guess the rings would be better put to use if we wore them instead of keeping them in a box.”
“You…kept them? I thought you were going to sell them?”
“Didn’t feel right,” he put his hand to your face before gently stroking your cheek, “so I kept them. Maybe it’s a good thing I did.”
“Sap,” you kissed his palm, “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he promised, “what do you say? Do you want to get married again?”
“Yes,” you beamed at him, “yes, I want to be your wife again. But forever this time.”
“Forever sounds good, mi sol.”
“Daddy! I’m ready,” interrupted once again, you patted his chest before gently pushing him away, “bye mamá!”
“Bye baby, be good,” you waggled a finger at him before whispering in Javier’s ear, “hurry back, cielito. Then we kiss some more and maybe we’ll get a baby from it.”
“You’re going to be the death of me,” he almost groaned before stealing a kiss, “I’ll be right back.”
You watched as they left, Diego eagerly taking his father’s hand before pulling him towards the door. You’d turned back to quickly finish the dishes when you heard him ask, “are you really going to marry mamá again?”
“Yes,” was Javier’s soft response, “I’d marry her again and again and again.”
Maybe your first marriage to him had been impulsive and wild. But it had gotten you the two best things in your life; your son and your husband.
This time around you were going to make it count. This time was forever.
The doorbell rang at the most inopportune moment. It was a late Thursday afternoon and you were home with your small gaggle of children. Dinner was cooking on the stove and you were trying to keep everyone sound and happy. It wasn’t always an easy feat with four children aged eight and under and two dogs that liked to stay in the thick of it.
“Coming!” you shouted towards the door as you glanced at your brood. Lucia was coloring at the dining room table, happily humming to herself while Diego attempted to play hide and go seek with Santi, leaving Thea to toddle around in search of something to get into, “Lucia, mija, can you please keep an eye on your brothers for a moment and make sure they don’t hurt themselves?”
“Okay mamá,” she threw down her crayon and slid off her chair, laughing as she ran after the boys, calling for them to wait for her.
“And you little miss,” you scooped Thea up in your arms and settled her on your hip as she hugged onto you tightly, a little smile on her face, “are coming with me so you stay out of the trouble. The youngest and yet the biggest trouble maker!”
You pressed a kiss to the top of her mop of dark curls as she laughed and you made your way towards the door. You opened it just as the bell was rung again, finding a young woman standing there. You didn’t recognize her but you could immediately see that she was beautiful. Dark haired and statuesque with plush lips and big doe eyes, all dressed and done up. In your current state you were sure she put you to shame.
“Hello,” you said as you wondered who this could possibly be, “how can I help you?
“Is this the Peña residence?” even her voice was pretty, which really didn’t seem fair.
“Yes,” you nodded curiously, “how can I help you?”
“Oh,” she offered you a little smile that caused an unpleasant shiver run up your spine, “you must be Mrs. Peña.”
“I…am,” should you have admitted this? You weren’t even sure what was going on anymore, “what did you need?”
“Is Javier here?” Now you were worried…how did this pretty young woman know your husband? How did she know where he lived?
“No,” you replied, “h-he’s not here.”
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“I don’t,” you lied, getting seriously worried about who this stranger was, “did you need something from him? I can…take a message for him?”
“Oh no,” she giggled, a grating sound that got on your last nerve. She made it a point to put her hand on her stomach and rubbed her belly. Your eyes naturally flicked down and your heart almost stopped when you noticed the slight swell, “I’m sure I’ll see him soon. Thanks for your help, Mrs. Peña.”
“I…what…”
“Your daughter is beautiful,” she said just before turning around, and bouncing down the porch stairs, “she looks just like him.”
You watched her bound away, practically skipping as she made her way back to her car. You held Thea tighter in your arms, your heart practically slamming against your ribcage as you watched her until she was gone. You slowly closed the door and made sure it was locked before walking back into the kitchen.
Your three other children seemed unphased as they continued playing without a care in the world. You set Thea down and nudged her in the direction of her siblings while you turned back to the stove. Your mind was reeling with trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.
A sense of dread set in as the little worry that had been sparked at the back of your mind started to creep forward. No…no. There was no way. Javier would…never. The knowledge that your husband was devoted to you didn’t lessen that deep rooted fear that had sprung up.
And this had to be the day he was working late. Of course it was. But now…you couldn’t help but wonder if he really was working.
“Stop,” you hissed at yourself, trying to control your racing thoughts, “he’s at work. He’ll be home this evening. He would never…he wouldn’t.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You stiffened when you heard the front door finally open. You were sitting at the dining room table, waiting for him after you’d put all four kids to bed. You listened to him kick off his shoes and drop his bag by the front door as he routinely did when he came home. He slowly made his way over to you, a happy but tired little smile on his face. But as soon as he saw your face, he knew something was very wrong.
“Did you cheat on me, Javier?” was the first thing out of your mouth, despite your initial intentions. You put down the napkin you had been playing with and looked up at him, trying to swallow down the lump that had welled up in your throat, “did you?”
Javier’s mouth dropped open as he looked at you in confusion, brows knitting together. He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation; he was tired, exhausted, and just wanted a shower and to get into bed with you. But he couldn’t find the words to even reply to your question.
"Well?” you asked softly as he leaned against the chair and let out a long sigh, “why aren’t you saying anything?”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that question,” he sighed heavily. This had come up so out of the blue and he had no clue why, “why are you asking me this? That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever asked.”
“Why aren’t you saying no?”
“I - what the fuck kind of question even is that!?” he hadn’t meant to snap at you. The shocked look on your face was enough to cause instant regret to well up as he sighed, “baby-”
“A girl came by today,” you wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, willing yourself not to break down and cry, “she was so young and so pretty. She was looking for you. Asking where you were and when you’d be back. She knew who I was - she saw our daughter and said she looked like you. She…she was pregnant, Javier.”
“What!?”
“Who is she?” you were crying now and he ached to reach over and touch you but he was afraid that would only make things worse, “why was she looking for you? Tell me. Tell me.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he insisted, a look of genuine confusion crossing his features, “I…I don’t know what’s going on.”
“We have four children, Javier,” you whispered, “four children I carried and gave you - us. We have two dogs. We have a house. We have careers. We have good friends and family. Was that not enough for you? Am I not enough for you? I don't…know what to think right now.”
“Dulzura-”
“How would you feel, Javier, if the roles were reversed? If a random man came to the house looking for me? Asking where I was or when I’d be back? Commenting about how our son or daughter looks like me?”
“I’d k-”
“Yeah,” you didn’t even give him a chance to finish, “so imagine how it feels for me. And the fact that you’re not denying makes it so much worse.”
“I’m not denying because I don’t even know what’s going on! I have no clue what happened. I would never do that to you.”
“I want to believe you,” your voice was almost a whimper as you stood up and started to breeze past him, “but I’m so…I don’t even know right now. I’m going to bed…you can stay on the couch tonight. Or I can if you want the bed.”
“I…” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply, “I’ll take the couch.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
By the time Javier woke up the following morning, he felt as exhausted as the night before. He’d tossed and turned all night, worry and confusion nagging at him. The look on your face had broken his heart.
He looked at his watch and groaned loudly; he was late. The house was silent and as he poked around he realized you had already left for work and towed all the kids with you. You hadn’t woken him up. You’d never done that before.
“Fuck me,” he slammed his fist on the dresser as he tried to calm his racing mind. He let out a long, shaky breath, running a hand over his tired face, “fuck!”
He had no idea what he would do if you truly believed he had cheated on you. He loved you more than anything; he practically worshiped the ground you walked on and yet… The pain and hurt you had in your eyes had made him want to fall to his knees and beg you for forgiveness.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Javier had felt like he was in a daze as he went about his day, attempting to act as though everything was normal. You hadn’t called like you normally did when you got a break from teaching; he’d looked at his phone what felt like every five seconds as he willed it to ring. But it never did. What would happen when he got home that night? What would you say to him? Do to him?
Javier was interrupted by a soft knock on his office door. He could have pretended he wasn’t there, but he almost welcomed the distraction at this point. After he called whoever was at the door in, it creaked open slowly before she walked in. Her walk was silent and she swayed her hips more than necessary as she sauntered over to his desk. Once she was in the light and he could get a proper look at her; his breath caught in his throat and he felt rage begin to boil in his blood.
It was her. That damned kid from one of his classes from last semester. He should have known. He should have Chelsea Peltz be capable of doing something like this.
“Hello Javi,” she had a smile like a Cheshire cat as she slipped into the chair opposite his. Javier’s eyes instinctively flicked to her stomach where he could see the small swell of a baby bump.
“It’s Professor Peña to you,” he insisted shortly as she laughed lightly, “what are you doing here? What have you done?”
“Your wife is very pretty,” she grinned as leaned back in her seat, “but she seems a little young for you-”
“Don’t you dare talk about her,” in another life he would have let his anger win over immediately. But not now; now he was able to control himself, despite how he practically shook with anger, “how dare you go to my home and ask for me. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“Your home is beautiful too,” she sighed wistfully, “I bet all of your kids are super cute like your little daughter.”
She snatched one of the picture frames off his desk and flipped it around to study it. It just so happened to be a picture of you, Lucia, Diego, Santi, and Thea all snuggled into your bed, watching a movie together. He’d captured the snap when none of you had been paying any attention to him; it had easily become one of his favorites.
The young girl trailed her fingers over it before he ripped it back out of her hands, “I was right. Beautiful children. You must really love her if you got her pregnant that many times. I bet you’re really good in-”
“Why?” he sounded somewhere between angry and desperate, “why did you do this? She thinks I cheated on her - she thinks I got you pregnant. I…how could you do this?”
“I really didn’t even have to do anything,” she shrugged playfully as if this was all some sort of joke, “I didn’t say I was there because I wanted you or that you knocked me up. I just asked where you were, I don’t think it’s that weird…”
“You knew exactly what you were doing,” his chest rose and fell rapidly as he reminded him to keep calm, “why?”
“I was so nice to you last semester,” she pouted as she leaned towards him, “all I wanted was some alone time with you. Everyone knows you’re the hot professor. But you kept turning me down even when I was so nice. And then you failed me. I told you I would do anything to get my grade up. I would have sucked your cock, let you fuck me. Aren’t I pretty, Javi? You like them younger, right?”
“You failed the class because you didn’t turn in any assignments and flunked the midterm and final. I didn’t do that - you did. Your grade reflected that-”
“I just wanted you,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “and if I can’t have you and then no one will. I wonder what the school will say when I tell them you forced yourself on me - when you got me pregnant? Your career will be ruined. I wonder what your pretty little wife will do. Will she really stay with you through anything? Or will she take your kids away from you and leave you forever?”
“You know that none of that happened,” he was seething at this point, “I never touched you, I never did anything.”
“That might be true,” she admitted, “but who is going to believe you? Are they really going to believe a grown man with a bad reputation that he thinks is behind him or an innocent young student? Tell me - who will they side with?”
“What do you want from me?”
“I already told you,” she leaned closer to him, “you.”
“Never,” he spat at her, seeing nothing but red, “never. You know what - you can walk out of this room and tell them whatever the fuck you want. I would rather lose my job and any future job than see you ever again. Maybe my wife won’t believe me, maybe she’ll hate me forever, but I’d rather have that than see your face ever again.”
“Really.”
“Now get the fuck out of here before I decide to make good on that bad reputation,” he was glowering in front of her as he hauled her out of the chair, his hand wrapping around her bicep as he dragged her towards the door, “you need to get help because you’ve got some issues. Do what you want, but don’t let me see you again. Don’t ever go near my wife or my family again. If you do, there will be problems. Clear?”
She swallowed thickly, unsure of what to do. She was in deep but the rage that she saw in his eyes was enough to scare her to the bone. Instead of saying anything else, she turned on her heel and stormed out of his office, slamming the door shut so harshly that several photos and prints fell off the wall.
Javier inhaled deeply, his whole body shaking as he sat on the edge of the desk. He felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes, as he picked up the photo of you and his babies. What would he do if you didn’t believe him? He didn’t know if he would ever survive without you. You were his world, his everything. He wiped away the tears that had rolled down his cheeks; the last time his heart had been this broken was after Santi and Thea were born and you were dealing with postpartum depression.
Another knock came at his door and he jumped off his desk and set the photo down as he tried to recover his appearance. After a few moments of hesitation the door opened and there you were. His heart dropped into his stomach and he awaited your anger. Instead, you looked at him with glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks, slowly walking over to him, “Javi.”
“Baby, I-”
“I heard,” you sniffled as you practically ran to him and through your arms around him in a tight embrace, wishing you never had to let him go, “I heard it all.”
He hugged you back, closing his eyes and burying his face into your neck, “I’m so sorry…for everything.”
“I’m sorry, Javi,” you pulled back and cradled his face in your hands, before kissing him softly, “I should never have…given into any thoughts about what she’d said or did. I never should have doubted you. I know you’d never…cheat on me.”
“I would rather be dead and buried rather than ever even entertain that notion,” he huffed lightly, trying to keep it together and not break down completely, “I would never. You are…everything. You always have been and always will be.”
“I know,” this time it was your turn to wipe away his tears, just like he had done for you so many times in the past, “you’re my everything too. But…what are we going to do about…her?”
“You are not going to do anything,” he promised, “you don’t have to deal with any of this, whatever the fall out might be. But I don’t think she’ll actually do anything…she’s cunning but she’s not smart. And it would be really easy to prove that the baby isn’t mine. It’s okay, we’ll be okay.”
“Okay…okay,” you agreed as he kissed you slowly, attempting to pour every last bit of love he had into you, “I love you.”
“I love you,” he whispered into your ear, “baby, I love you so much.”
“Come home with me,” you insisted as he just nodded in agreement, “let’s get away from all of this. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I just…I’m so sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he promised as he took your hand and put it to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “I can’t even imagine what I would have thought if the situation was reversed. I’m not a good man and I’m afraid that I would have-”
“You are,” you reassured him, “you are a good man, Javier. What was in the past is not who you are. Is it bad that…I’m the one that wants to go after her and…I don’t even know. But I do know that if anyone tried to do anything to you or the kids, they would-”
Javier didn’t even give you a chance to finish before he captured your lips again, kissing you with a hungry, needy urge that you gave right back.
“Come on,” you whispered against his lips, “let’s go home, mi amor.”
“Dulzura,” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “mi sol, mi vida. I love you.”
Series Summary: You don’t expect to be pulled into a heated gravitation with Agent Javier Peña, and the more you both try to navigate your lives around each other, the clearer it becomes that your feelings go beyond the torrid desires you both are able to ignite in each other. Will the heat of your passions win out against the tribulations that threaten to pull you apart?
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*Moodboard image was sourced from several sources and made by yours truly. F!Reader’s physical appearance is my head-canon, but please feel free to conjure what you wish.
Hello, my dears! Sorry for the long lapse in posting, but I’m back with a mega pint of a chapter (yes, I said it. Sue me) that I hope will make up for the lull.
Pairing: Javier Peña/F!Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Character Count: 21,500+
Summary: After a perilous event, you and Javi find solace in the respite of being together amongst a surprising support system. But when it’s time to confront truths, will you both be able to protect each other and stay grounded in the love that tethers you together?
Warnings: Javier Peña being the ultimate BAE. Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of oral (m+f receiving) and unprotected sex. Mentions of hurt/comfort, emotional trauma, toxic coping mechanisms, and suppressed feelings. Descriptions of raunchy behavior, light dom/sub play, cum play, size kink, praise kink, and dirty talk. Allusions to triggering events, foreboding threats, and psychological trauma. Some Protective!Javi, Dom! Javi, Sub!Javi, Sub!Reader, Wrathful!Javi. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.
When you next wake, you can tell it’s around the time that lavender haze of twilight starts to pale into early dawn. You lie there for a bit and just enjoy the tranquility, still enveloped by the warmth of being in the small bed together while the fresh air of early morning filters in through the windows. His scent – masculine yet softened by fragrant soap – chastens the small tremor of anxiety that bubbled up as your mind recalled everything that had happened the day before. You want to curl into him and forget it, but know you can’t get caught in bed together lest you want to get a scolding from your grandmother, so you decide you have to part with the solace of being snuggled up with him.
Javi is sleeping so soundly that you’re able to easily shimmy out from under his hold and tuck the covers back around his shoulders without stirring him. He looks so serene, and it makes something tickle in the back of your breastbone – gazing down at him like this. It’s hard to believe that at one point, he’d just been el guapo descarado to you. And now? He’s the man you love and want to cherish, having become the most important person in your life, whom you feel the safest with. It’s a dizzying realization – to feel like this, to be in love so completely, and to not be afraid of it.
I never want to be without him.
The fawning thought has you feeling a fizzling glee bubble up in you, and before you let it carry you away on some enamored flight of fancy, you sneak out of the bedroom and tiptoe back into the one right across the hall. You quickly change into a comfy sweatshirt and matching pair of baggy joggers, go to the restroom, wash your face and brush your teeth, then go busy yourself in the kitchen. By the time your grandmother enters a few minutes later, you’ve peeled and cut a nice assortment of fruits that sit in a bowl on the counter, and are currently chopping the onions, bell peppers and tomatoes for the huevos pericos you decided to make.
“You’re up early!” she jovially marvels and ambles over to affectionately hug you, kissing you on the cheek before she begins to muse, “Go sit—”
“I want to cook. Can you supervise? I’m going to try and make your pandebonos,” you gently insist and declare, smiling reassuringly at her.
She nods, impressed, and goes to put out all the ingredients you’ll need for the temperamental treats. “I’ll start the coffee,” she announces as she grabs the kettle pieces.
“Can you show me how to prep the cafetera?” you request as you place the chopped ingredients aside. “I can never get it right. Coffee comes out tasting burnt or with grounds in it,” you sorely grumble as you stand next to her at the counter.
She seems pleasantly surprised by your interest. After all, every time before she’d tried to show you, you’d dismissed that she made the coffee best anyway. Impish, she lilts, “Seems someone has inspired your urges for domesticity.”
Snickering, you surprise her yet again by remarking simply, “Seems he has.”
She smiles beamingly and contains her impulse to barrage you with questions in order to instead show you the expert way to brew the perfect coffee using the old-school stove kettle. The neighborhood rooster is crowing distantly while she stands next to you at the sink and shows you how to measure the amount of water to pour into the base. “See the stopper here? It shouldn’t go beyond this point.” She then grabs the can of coffee and measures out the grounds before displaying the way to scoop and put the coffee into the metal basket, emphasizing that you should not press down on it. “—You just need to brush off the excess with the sweep of your finger, and then you can place it in,” she instructs as she shows you, then hands the base and top for you to screw on and place on the stove. “Then, you just listen for it to brew, and mind keeping it on the burner for too long. You then want to set it aside to cool.”
Once you’ve followed all the steps and have the coffee kettle cooling on the back of the stove, she sits at the table and watches you shred the cheese for the pandebonos, instructing you on how to sift it, then the right mixture of the harinas to use; the blend of salt and sugar needed; the ground cheese and egg you need to add in before you whisk; how much milk you should include and the butter needed before mixing it all up into the dough you’ll need to let rest. Once it’s set aside, you butter the pan for the juevos pericos and place the chopped veggies in before making a cup of coffee for your abuela, who is watching you intently now.
You sense it. It’s been long enough, and you are rescind to it, so you place the cup in front of her with the sugar bowl and a spoon for her before returning to the stove.
“What happened yesterday…that was no mistake. Those men grabbed you with care, yes, but it was obvious they hadn’t mistaken you for someone else. What was all of that about?”
It takes you a moment to collect your thoughts, so you use that time to tend to the eggs in the pan. “I’m not entirely sure—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
You turn to glance at her, and see she’s sternly eyeing you. She hasn’t even touched her coffee, and her eyes are flaring with worry.
“’Buela…it’s best I don’t tell you. Everything is sorted and that will never happen again—” you begin to mollify.
“What does Javier really do,” she queries suddenly, eyes narrowing sharply on you when you press your lips together and turn away. “Lindita, I had the fright of my life yesterday. As soon as I got home, I ran to find his number, and within hours he was here. He went off with that officer, and within no time, he was bringing you home,” she narrates firmly, and you switch the stove off and set the pan aside to turn and face her. “That is not something just anyone at an embassy can do. What does he really do?”
Sighing, you idly grab a dishtowel and start wringing it in your hands, trying to quell the nervous energy as you calmly parcel out, “Javier works for the DEA. When we met, he was a field agent. He and his partner helped take down the Medellín cartel. Since then, he was promoted to be the DEA country attaché. He runs the DEA here in Colombia, and for obvious reasons, I wanted to keep all of that private.”
While you told her, your grandmother’s expression shuttered in, becoming stoic as she absorbed the details and formulated conclusions of her own.
“I thank God for him. But, if you’re in any danger, because of what he does,” she begins to ruminate out loud, and when you tense, she pauses, clarifying, “If you both are in danger, I don’t think I could bare it. Is this really something you’ve considered? That you’ve really thought about? The risk to him and to you?”
You are resolutely clear as the answer springs up in you. “Yes. We’ve talked about this – what it means for each of us, and the way we would need to go about things. Since we first started seeing each other, it’s always been a concern and something Javi and I have been mindful to protect against. Yesterday was a fluke – something completely random and I was in no way in true danger. I don’t want you to worry,” you state with sincerity as you go to sit with her at the kitchen table. You take her hand and squeeze when she frowns apprehensively. “I promise, we’re not in danger. I trust Javi with my life. All he’s ever done is protect me, and gone out of his way to make sure I’m safe. I love him, and…he loves me. We’ll take care of each other, and I’ll be much more careful. So please, don’t worry about us.”
She lets out a shaky sigh before patting her other hand over yours – effectively clasping it in her warm, strong hold. “Well then…can I look forward to helping plan another wedding soon?” she chimes eagerly, and you scoff and hang your head, shaking it amusedly. “I’m not getting any younger, lindita!”
Before you can answer, you look over your shoulder towards the entry of the kitchen when you hear a familiar sound – the rattle of the band of Javi’s watch as he absently shakes it on his wrist to settle it comfortably in place after he’s clasped it on. Just then, he rounds the corner and enters from the hall. He’s fully dressed, wearing a pair of his perfect dark blue jeans, a well-worn pair of leather boots, and a tucked in, off-white-colored, short-sleeved snap-buttoned shirt with breast pockets. His hair is brushed, face clean-shaven – save for his handsomely trimmed moustache, and he looks sheepish as he comes in and sees you both looking over at him, as if you’d both conjured him and were pleased with the results.
“Uh…buenos días,” he remarks innocently, and you squint your eyes at him, not believing his ‘oh, I just waltzed in unaware of what you’re talking about’ airs, but say nothing as you stand and gesture for him to sit down. “Mornin’, ma'am,” he leans over and kisses your grandmother on the cheek before sitting in the chair you’ve vacated, smiling when you place a cup of coffee in front of him and peck him on the lips chastely. His eyes get a little molten when he recognizes the sweatshirt you’re wearing as the same one you’d had on when he’d stormed into your place and fucked you into oblivion and back not so long ago. Affectionately looping his arm around your waist to give your hip a squeeze, he rumbles, “You should’ve woken me to help with breakfast—”
“Oh, quit it with the boy scout routine, suavón,” you snicker at him and cheekily caress his forearm before shying out of his embrace. “I’ll prep the dough once I finish getting ready, 'Buela,” is your musing as you serve the eggs onto two plates and place them at the table for them, offering the cutlery and napkin to each before snickering, “Eat, and behave while I’m gone.”
“Hah, sure, we will. Isn’t that right, mijo?” your grandmother chuckles conspiratorially over at Javi, who shoots you a smug smirk.
“Ugh, you two are incorrigible…” you grumble humorously and lope out of the kitchen.
Javi snorts and looks over at your grandmother once he’s sure he’s heard you shut the bathroom door at the end of the hall. “All right, bust out that photo album for me?” he petitions and bounces his brows charmingly.
Gleefully, your grandmother hops up and goes to retrieve it. While she’s gone, he takes a long sip of the coffee, smiling at how great it tastes, going down smoother knowing that you brewed it.
Yep, he’d been listening. When he’d woken up thanks to the crow of the rooster in the back neighbor’s yard, Javi had jerked up in bed, looking around the room and trying to get his bearings before awareness set in. At not finding you in bed with him, he’d gotten up and silently opened the door to the bedroom in order to peek out and see if you’d gone to sleep in the other room. Hearing your voices, he’d tiptoed down and stayed tucked against the hallway’s wall, listening to you be walked through how to prep the kettle. Smiling, Javier had wandered back to the room, grabbed his things, and gone to take a quick shower. After he’d finished dressing and went to get his boots and belt on once he’d stored his things in the duffle, he’d stealthily returned to the eavesdropping stop in the hall, expecting to hear you both pleasantly chatting.
He instead heard your grandmother pressing you for answers. Worriedly, he expected you to shut her down and possibly end up in a reticent standoff with her. So, when you’d just sincerely answered her and made it clear how you feel, Javi had felt punch-drunk. So much so, he vacantly clasped his watch on and realized his mistake the moment he’d shaken his wrist to settle it into place. He’d had no choice but to lope in and feign like he’d not been eavesdropping.
Having heard what you’d said had left him feeling charged and worthy. It was a dazzling feeling to hear you speak so matter-of-factly to someone else about what you feel for each other. Made it feel like something precious that he was proud to flaunt, and hearing you not immediately shut down your grandmother after her wily remark had cemented his hopes – that 'not being the marrying kind’ was a status in flux for you both now.
As you shower, the thought of that wily question makes you tingle a little. You need to take it one step at a time. Things are still tumultuous. You literally got kidnapped yesterday. Thinking about running down the aisle? Really? Javi wants to get a place with you. Be content with that for now and stop thinking irrationally.
With that scolding, you dry off, get dressed, and lope down to return to the kitchen, expecting to find the two of them finishing their coffees.
You instead find Javi perusing your abuela’s photo album while she’s at the stove, prepping the baking tray and preheating the oven.
“Why?!” you admonish, glowering huffily at the two of them. “I literally told you two to behave, and here’s this one looking at my embarrassing pictures and you at the stove?!”
“I’m only prepping! I haven’t even touched the dough,” she defends, adding comically, “He asked me to get the album!”
Javi gives you both a wide-eyed gape, feeling thrown to the wolves. He sits back in the chair and gives you a puppy-eyed once over, admiring your flirty purple tunic dress with a keyhole cutout at the bust and a gold-print embroidered along the bottom hem and elbow-length sleeves. When you narrow your eyes at him, he just shrugs. “I regret nothing.”
You snicker and shake your head, relenting, “Fine, malvadito. Go ahead and get a gander. I’ll remember this when I have a chance to pester your father for photo albums!”
The three of you settle into a jovial banter as your grandmother shows you how to roll the dough into little bundles and place them on the parchment paper-lined baking tray. Once said tray is slid into the oven, she excuses herself to go get freshened up for the day, remarking, “Don’t be surprised if that crew from yesterday come over later!” as she hurries out of the kitchen, intent to give you two some privacy.
“Told you,” you chortle to him after you’ve loped back over to sit at the table with him after you washed your hands and dried them.
Javi snickers and tows you over to him before you get to the vacant chair. He hugs you, resting his forehead to just below your sternum, and inhales your perfumed scent. “You haven’t eaten. Sit and relax,” he murmurs before guiding you onto his lap.
You smile and loop your arms around his neck, leaning into him. “You just want to keep looking at the photo album, don’t yah,” you mumble against his neck.
He chuckles and nods, kissing your temple before nuzzling into your hair. You pivot to get comfy on his lap and begin to eat the food that’s left on his plate. Relaxed, you manage to keep an eye on the oven as he flips through pages of the album, admiring the black and white portraits, sepia-toned snapshots, and yellowed prints of relatives from far back until he flips to the photos of a woman who looks so much like you, yet different. She’s gorgeous, seeming to glow with a vibrancy and convivial aura that radiate through her lovely smile. When he glances at you, he sees you looking fondly at the photo of your mother, expression softening as you think back at how she looked in your dream that time.
When Javi flips onto the page with your parents’ wedding photo, he takes time to catalogue it. Your parents are posing as tradition would call for: Stoic, albeit embracing and looking young and hopeful. She looks ethereal in her demure wedding gown and lace veil while your father is dressed sharp, shoes polished and hair brushed back. You hum and flip the page over for him, grumbling, “Might as well get to the cringe-worthy photos and get it over with.”
The album at this point is cluttered with your baby pictures, and Javi delights in seeing you look like a cherubic infant, a bright-smiling toddler, and then a sprite-eyed hellion. When he’d last gotten a peek at the album, your grandmother had flipped it to your school photo section, which he turns onto now and grins. “How wicked were you in this photo,” he chuckles, snickering when you roll your eyes. “Be honest, preciosa.”
“I was pretty bad, yes,” you chime sardonically, looking down at your younger self with the blunt bangs and long pigtails, wearing the green plaid jumper and yellow puffy-sleeved blouse. “I was annoyed that day. It was my first semester in the school in Virginia, and my mother made me wear this stupid jumper for the school photo. I walked out of it in a sulk and some boys ran up to tease me over my clothes, and one of them pulled on my pigtail, and I ran after him and started beating him up.”
Javi laughs out, picturing the little girl in the photo going ballistic on a kid in a school hallway. He has to bury his face in the back of your shoulder to keep from guffawing when you scrunch up your face in disdain at his reaction. “Keep laughing, jodón. I cannot wait to get my hands on your baby pictures,” you declare and wiggle daringly in his lap, forcing him to encircle an arm around your waist to pin you into place.
“Yeah, yeah, bravita. Mine are nowhere near as cute as yours,” he taunts as he flips onto the next page and sees a picture of you holding you baby cousin in your arms. He smiles at how excitedly grinning you are in the photo cuddling the baby close to your chest.
You’d told him once about the brother that you almost had. How excited you’d been as a little girl, and how confused you’d been when your father had packed up the blue baby things and donated them.
“Oh! Let me check the oven,” you suddenly pipe and climb off his lap, but not before wiggling your backside against his crotch one more time.
He grunts and gives you a surly grunt and provocative look as you innocently saunter to the stove and open the oven, inspecting the golden brown, puffed up breads. Pleased, you get the mittens and retrieve the tray, setting it onto the stovetop and shutting the oven closed and off. By then, your grandmother has sauntered back in, dressed in a pleated long skirt and a nice blouse and cardigan set.
“Ah, they came out lovely! Good job, mija,” she praises as she peeks at the tray.
“Gotta see if they taste as good as yours first,” you remark as you grab the kettle and pour yourself a cup.
Once they’re cool enough, you each have one, and at Javi humming with gusto and your grandmother chewing with her eyes smiling approvingly? You bite into yours and are content. Soon enough, Javi’s had three more with another cup of coffee as you chat about the upcoming wedding.
Frowning, you lament, “Oh, we didn’t get to shop for dresses!”
“Well, maybe we could go today—”
A loud knocking coming from the front door interrupts the conversation, and you and your grandmother exchange duo looks of reluctance when your aunt calls through the door, “Hello! We brought food, comadre!”
Pursing your lips comically, you follow your grandmother out to answer the door while Javi sneaks another pandebono and munches on it before going to join you.
As promised, your aunt, cousin and Miguel are at the door with all sorts of goodies, and after everyone exchanges greetings, mother and daughter set up shop in the kitchen to start making lunch. Javi’s eyes are twinkling at the prospect of being spoiled silly today with all the great food, and claps Miguel on the back good-naturedly when he covertly shows him a peek at the bottle of whiskey he’s carrying along with the six-pack of beers.
“—My parents might be stopping by to say hello too,” he declares over all the chatter in the kitchen, and your grandmother decides to send you to her pantry for supplies while the stove is taken up for empanada making.
By the time they’re coming out of the frying pan, the impromptu gathering has increased with the arrival of your cousin’s soon-to-be in-laws, so you go to set up some foldout chairs and open the back and front door to let the air circulate. Javi carries the chairs and helps you set them out, and quickly ends up being talked up by everyone. After all, they’re eager to get to know him, being the first man you’ve ever brought around, and while your grandmother agreed to keep Javi’s job a secret, you’re concerned your aunt and cousin will broach the line of questioning they’d been forced to abandon the evening prior. Luckily, though, they seem too swept up in chatter about the wedding, so you are happy to sit and have girl talk while your grandmother hands a platter stacked with empanadas to the men, the rest of the cold beers in the fridge, and dutifully tells them to park in the living room.
Miguel, his father, and youngest brother sit around chatting with Javi about soccer teams, and after a while of that, they end up moving out to the front porch, where Miguel sets up a domino table so they can all play. You check on him by peering out the screen door, watching how he laughs at jokes and listens to Miguel explain the promotion he got. Once the proper early dinner is ready, you call them in and everyone squeezes in around the kitchen table, merrily conversing. Your aunt asks Javi where he’s from, and once he answers, he elaborates that his people came from Tamaulipas and over generations moved north into Texas. They listen to him talk about Laredo, laugh at his jokes about being the last single cousin standing, and enjoy the PG-version of the story he and Miguel tell of how they’d first met.
“—Needless to say, I owed him an apology. I’m lucky you didn’t slug me for it,” Javi is quipping before taking a pull from his beer bottle.
“Honestly? I was so confused and off-guard, it didn’t even occur to me,” Miguel snickers and glowers when his brother face palms. “What?! You did not see this dude! He looked ready to toss me across the club—”
“Ay, what an exaggerator you are!” your cousin snipes sarcastically and nudges her shoulder into his side while Javi tucks his chin to hide his meek smirk when you affectionately squeeze his thigh under the table.
When he looks at you, he sees the smolder in your eyes, and has to stifle his reaction as your hand glides up to rub up along his inner thigh, achingly close to his crotch.
You can’t help it. Watching him being so warm and charismatic? Jovial and open with your family? How he smiles and laughs with cool ease, treating them like he’s known them for ages? It turns you on. This whole effortless, domestic respite with him has you yearning, thinking things you never have, and wanting him with a ridiculous intensity that has your thighs clenching, your pussy throbbing to be his.
Obviously, though, there is no opportunity for you to drag him away and just get ravished like you’re desperate for, but it doesn’t mean you can’t shoot lustful glances his way and wickedly delight in how he blushes and tries to keep his features cool and unruffled.
After dinner, you help make some buñuelos and a fresh brew of coffee, enjoying how everyone hangs out in the living room and talk more about the wedding next Sunday. You tell your cousin that since you didn’t get to do a bridal shower, you’d be booking a hotel room for all of you to use to get ready for the ceremony, and she beams, gushing about how she can have her beautician friends set up there for hair and makeup. Talk goes to how Miguel proposed, and you’re grinning as she makes him get all flustered by detailing it unabashedly before dramatically flapping her hand to show off her engagement ring. You’ve seen it earlier in the week, but snicker when his mother beams about how nervous he’d been, and how he’d asked her and his three sisters to go with him to help pick out the perfect anillo.
Javi watches with bated breath as your cousin takes the ring off and hands it to you so you can see the engraving he’d had set within the band. Smiling when you see it’s her and Miguel’s first initials, you’re about to hand it back when she cajoles you to try it on. He can’t help size up how you and your cousin have similarly tapered fingers and dainty hands, so he’s disappointed when you roll your eyes and shake your head. “—It’s bad luck to have someone else put on your engagement ring!” you tell her before handing it back.
Before Javi can internally brood, Miguel signals for the men to leave you all to gab about the wedding by flashing the whiskey bottle in the paper bag in his hands and gesturing with a tip of his head to return to the domino table outside. You smirk, shooting Javi another heated look of desire, which causes him to mouth, 'Behave.’
Talk of the plans for next Saturday lead to detailing final arrangements needed, agreeing on who will be cooking what for the reception, transportation to and from, and tentative ideas for the honeymoon. Once your cousin has shown you the colors she’ll use for the bridesmaids dresses, you gasp, remembering the glass terrariums in the back of your car. With car keys in hand, you go out to the porch and ask Javi if he can come with you to retrieve them from the hatchback.
“I’ll get 'em. You stay inside,” he rumbles and plucks the keys from your hand before stealing a kiss from your lips. “I can manage it, querida.”
Pursing your lips at him, you relent and wink. “I’m sure you can, stud,” you remark conversationally so the other men on the porch don’t get clued in, but Javi’s eyes flash with something incandescent at the way you enunciate 'stud’ with an alluring bat of your lashes. He grunts and gives you a look that promises 'You’re gonna get it, naughty girl,’ before he strides off on his errand.
The minute you’re back inside, though, all the women zero in on you. Uh oh…
“So, how serious are you two?”
“Pretty serious if he was willing to thrash Miguel for dancing with her, I’d say.”
“Oh, he seems like such a gentleman! I’m sure they were just exaggerating. He is smitten with you, though, so can we expect to be right back here, planning another wedding soon?”
“I’d say before any of that, he’d have to meet your father and ask his permission,” your aunt remarks and eyes your grandmother, who shakes her head sardonically at the whole exchange. “I remember distinctly how impressed my brother was when he was asked for his blessing. Your father was chivalrous and respectful when he asked, and I would assume he expects nothing less from your suitor, dear.”
You try to respectfully not scoff at your aunt as you lean back in your chair and deflect, “I’m not on speaking terms with my father, as you well know, so there’s no concern—”
“Ah! So you’re saying you’d be the 'marrying kind’ for him, eh?” your cousin cuts in, impishly.
Giving her a mocking glare, you snipe, “I didn’t say that at all. I’m just saying that if I was, my father’s approval is not a necessity—”
“But it’s so nice for a man to ask his intended’s father for permission. I know it’s old fashioned, but I think it’s very meaningful. Shows that he respects you and your family enough to ask for their blessing,” Miguel’s mother pipes up before sipping from her cup of coffee.
“Well, the only family I care about is right here. So, would he have your blessing?” you glance at your grandmother, cousin and aunt pointedly.
“Oh, that’s not how that works—” your aunt begins to caveat.
“He has mine!” your cousin interrupts before drawling, “Ma, c'mon. Miguel asked you for permission. Are you saying that it’s not the same because Papi wasn’t around to be asked?”
“N-No, not at all. I’m just saying if your father was still with us, well, it would be meaningful for him to have given his blessing,” she argues back.
“Well, regardless. He has my blessing, lindita. And for what you may feel about your father, I know that it would mean the world to him to have the opportunity to give his blessing and walk you down the aisle,” your grandmother hits you with the sincere musing, smiling warmly as you wilt into your chair, expression stubbornly etched in a glower.
Before you can get bogged down with the sentiments cloying up in you for attention, Javi opens the screen door and fumbles in with the bags, mindful of the glass but also not wanting to kick at the door to stay open. You rush to aid him, taking the bags from him and thanking him before he glances over at the pregnant glances he’s getting from the other women. Before it can get any more obvious, you shoo him back outside and take the bags over to the kitchen as you tell your cousin, “Come look at these! I think with the sea-glass and shells, we could make really pretty table arrangements.”
As they all go to follow you, Javi sits back down at the domino table and takes a deep swallow of his whiskey before noticing Miguel eyeing him knowingly.
Yep. He’d heard all of that, and Miguel had watched him loiter on the stoop, listening, before he made his way up and feigned like he’d just walked back from the car. “She’s tough, man. And I’ve never met her father, but my girl’s told me stories. He’s an intense dude,” Miguel remarks, and his brother and father intriguingly ask him to elaborate. “I only mean he’s a big shot. U.S. Navy guy. Used to be on that special team? The ones they send behind enemy lines—”
“Navy Seals,” Javi offers with a nod, thanking the younger brother for topping his glass off.
“Yeah! Like, super tough, cutthroat and serious guy. Went on tons of missions, got all these awards for bravery and stuff. But I don’t know, they just don’t get along. He calls every major holiday, when he knows she’s here with family, but she refuses to talk to him,” Miguel explains to his father and brother.
Javi knows all this, and simply sips his drink. The mystique of your father is something he’s rarely broached, mindful of what he does know to respect that it’s something you will talk about if you feel like it. He knows what happened years ago – the devastating grief you went through when you lost your mother, how you blame your father for it, and ultimately, how resentful you are by how he picked up and seemingly moved on with his life not soon after. The entire aftermath of what happened with that bastard Roman only strained your relationship further, leaving it in tatters, of which you had no interest in repairing.
Still, it was a new wrinkle in things. If your family felt it was the right thing to go to the man for his permission and blessing in asking for your hand in marriage, Javi felt it was something he needed to do. And while you might have walls up against the man, he had no reason to hate or shun your father, and wondered how you would feel if he expressed interest in meeting him.
Before his train of thought could run away with him, the arrival of three other women who share a resemblance pulls him away, and Miguel jumps up to greet them, introducing Javi to his sisters in turn. At the new arrivals, you all go out to say hello and invite them in for dinner. They’re each carrying big baskets filled with assortments of viandas and some fruits from their humble backyard fincas. Each hands over the bounties to your grandmother and aunt as gifts, and both beam at the offerings before eagerly parceling things out evenly between them.
“—Lindita, can you take these and store them in the shed out back? They’ll keep perfect there in the coolness and shade,” your abuela asks and directs, and you grab one of the bags, glance at Javi, and deliberately leave the other on the counter, hoping he’ll take the hint.
He most definitely does, and grabs the bag when everyone is preoccupied in the living room now, before he follows the path you took out the back door. It’s now late in the day, with dusk cresting over the neighborhood and the clime becoming a pleasant chill. He makes it out the back patio and glances out at the nice and appointed backyard, spotting the shed in question tucked against the back corner, near the shadier side of the property, and across from the herb garden.
Javier traverses the grass and finds the shed open, with the single bulb on, but no you.
The bag you’d brought is on the long workbench tucked against the wall, so he lopes in and places the one he’s carrying next to it. The shift of the air when the door closes behind him surprises Javi. That is, until he hears your footsteps come up behind him from where you’d been tucked hidden on the other side of the open door before you loop your arms around his waist and lean into him.
“I’m sorry for all the hubbub,” you murmur into his back, smiling when he scoffs and turns easily in your arms so he can hold you and gaze affectionately down into your sultry expression.
“Don’t be silly. I’ve had a great time,” he chuckles, intending to pull you along to go back to the house, when you resist, surprising him when you suddenly press him back against the workbench. “Querida—”
“Shush. I’ve been dying to do this since yesterday,” you growl as you fist your hand in the back of his hair and tug him down to meet your hungry kiss.
Torridly, you press flush against him, twirling your tongue lasciviously along his, drinking his groan of desire and becoming alight when his hands paw you into his embrace.
Javi gasps when you nip at his bottom lip and arch for more, so he picks you up and sits you on top of the workbench to stand between your open legs before wrapping his arms around your lower back to yank you flush against him in order to kiss a searing path from your mouth to your clavicle. You grip at his shoulders and mewl, angling your pelvis to the edge of the counter and grinding against the front of his jeans.
“F-Fuck, cariño, we can’t,” he groans and leans back, sparing a frantic look backward to make sure no one can see or hear you two – as if they could through the closed door. You protest and pull him into you, suckling a kiss into the column of his neck and pawing your hands down his sides to the front of his waist before tugging on his belt. “Mmph, baby—” he begins to warn in a husky grouse, but you kiss him, lips beseeching and sensual as they worship his own and coax him back into the heated make-out session.
When you try to resume unbuckling his belt, Javi stops you once again, so you whine in protest and break the kiss. “I want you,” you heatedly murmur and wrap your legs around him. “Please, Javi—”
“Jesus fucking Christ, I want you too. But we can't—” he begins to grumble, just as worked up, but halts when you lean back and give him a scintillating stare as you take his hand at your waist and guide it to feel between your thighs. “S-Shit, mi amor,” he groans when his fingers rub along the crotch of your panties, finding them soaked through with your arousal. “You’re so fucking wet,” is his growl as he keeps touching you over the drenched fabric, which has you biting your lip to stifle a needy mewl. “You…you’re gonna be a good girl, and just let me get you off. Then, we’re going back to the house and you will behave the rest of the night,” he’s assertively instructing as he nuzzles along your neck, suckling a teasing path down to your chest, where he rests his forehead and sighs when you whimper in protest. “It’s that, or I stop.”
Squirming, you plant your hands down on the workbench and nod vigorously in assent. Javi surprises you by yanking you off the counter and spinning you around to brace your front over his forearm to rest on the workbench, while his other hand rucks the crotch of your panties aside and cups your warm, tingling pussy. He hitches himself against you from behind, so you can feel how rock-hard he is for you in his jeans, and proceeds to finger-fuck you. His thick digits plunge into your throbbing cunt and the pad of his thumb seats itself over your aching clit while he greedily kisses you over your shoulder in order to smother your whimpers and cries of pleasure.
At the mercy of him in this position – standing on your leather-flat-clad tippy toes and braced forward against the surface of the workbench, hands splayed out in front of you for purchase. Not to mention with Javi’s hard-on rutting against your ass – you’re quickly worked into a frenzy that has you careening towards climax. And when it hits after he corkscrews his fingers into your rippling sheath and curves them simultaneously with the grind of his thumb on your clit, you shatter with pleasure, gasping a sob of ecstasy as Javi makes you come all over his hand.
He prolongs yours bliss with his fingers working in and out of your tingling cunt until you go lax in his embrace and he has to hold you from melting onto your knees on the plank floor.
“Got you, mi corazón. I’ve got you,” he coos before he kisses you back to your senses. “Now, I’m going to take care of you, then you’re going to be good for me and come back to the house, right?”
You dimly nod and obediently turn around in his arms, leaning against the workbench so he can right your appearance. He rucks your panties back into place, pets your hair out of your face and back over your shoulders, and stands back from you to palm the crotch of his jeans before adjusting himself to not be obviously sporting a boner when he walks back into the house. As he does so, he judiciously sucks his fingers clean of your slick and laves his tongue along his palm until he’s sure he can wipe it on the taut denim of his thigh without risking leaving an unseemly stain.
Satisfied, he herds you close, nuzzling a loving kiss into your temple before affectionately patting your ass and husking, “Alright, you go in first. I’ll be right behind you, hermosa.”
You dreamily smile up at him and steal one last luscious kiss from his full, pillowed lips before opening the shed door and flouncing out, crossing the ample yard and trotting up to the patio. Javi watches you go, internally swearing that you’re going to be the death of him – either from how deeply he loves you, or from the insane case of blue balls he now has. Grunting to himself, he switches the bulb off and walks out, closing the shed behind himself.
When he looks at his watch, he times that the entire tryst took maybe fifteen minutes, and hopes it wasn’t long enough of an absence to have been noticed. His cock is aching in his jeans – face feeling hot in the cool evening air, and he’s now craving a cigarette badly.
He sneaks back into the house and gets to the bedroom his duffle is in to rifle through it for the packet of nicotine gum he’s sure he shoved into one of the pockets. He finds it in the second pocket he shoves his hand in. The first had your pilfered panties in it. He figures he’ll need them later tonight, at the rate he’s going. Returning to the living room, chewing the gum and nonchalantly slipping back into the amiable gathering, Javi finds you blithely sitting on the couch, talking to one of Miguel’s sisters.
No one seems to have noticed you’d both slipped away, so he pleasantly chats the rest of the while with Miguel and the brother until the first of the wave of departures start. The sisters say goodnight, then Miguel’s parents, and soon after, your aunt and cousin hug you tight and wish you a safe trip back.
“—See you next week, Javi! Be sure to keep myprima from getting kidnapped any more,” your cousin cheekily demands as she hugs Javi before Miguel shakes his hand and claps him on the back in farewell.
“That’s the plan,” Javi quips, kissing your aunt on the cheek and wishing her a goodnight as well.
You snicker and wave goodbye, then shut the door and lock up before turning to catch your grandmother conspiratorially whispering something in Javier’s ear, watching as his expression quirks with something akin to flustered guilt.
Arching a brow questioningly at them, you purse your lips when she sees she’s caught. Your grandmother just adjusts her braid over her shoulder and declares, “Do an old woman a favor and tidy up? All this socializing has me tuckered out! I’m going to bed. See you both bright and early,” then kisses Javi and you on the cheek goodnight before retiring to her bedroom down the hall.
Furrowing your brow at him, he rubs at the back of his neck bashfully, so you sigh and shake your head amusedly before chiming silkily, “Want to put away the chairs while I tackle the kitchen?”
Giving you a lopsided smirk, he nods, pecks you on the cheek, and pats you on the ass affectionately before rumbling, “Ándale, gatita.”
You snicker and hop to it, shooting him a flirty glance over your shoulder as you saunter into the kitchen.
You’ve managed to scrub the pots and pans, washed and rinsed the utensils and plates, and are in the middle of finishing with all the cups and glasses when he lopes in and clocks in next to you, grabbing a dishtowel and working on drying everything requiring it before it gets stored in the cupboards. The house is quiet, save for the lulling breeze coming through the backdoor’s screen and through the windows, so you are content to listen to the rustling of the trees and the soft chirp of the nocturnal animals humming through the neighborhood.
Once he’s stored the last plate in the cabinet, Javi tosses his gum into the trash before pulling it out and knotting the bag to be chucked outside. When he comes back in from setting the garbage out, he finds you wiping down the counter and righting the chairs into alignment into the table. He takes the moment to watch you, content and unburdened by the usual stresses that plague him, and feeling miles away from what happened the day before. You were safe, vibrant and fucking sexy as you move around the kitchen, now storing the dishrag to drape over next to the sink while you tidy up the sugar and coffee containers back onto their cubby on the counter.
Smiling, you peek at him over your shoulder, making it clear with the alluring crinkle of your dazzling eyes that you knew he was there the whole time, just standing and gazing at you so.
“Well?” you query as you turn and lean back against the lip of the counter. When he grunts and crosses his arms to lean his shoulder coolly into the doorframe, you press, “What was she whispering in your ear, hmm?”
He nips at his bottom lip as he tucks his chin bashfully into his chest and peers over sheepishly at you with those coffee-brewed eyes of his. “She said that she’d been happy to run interference for us, and that we were lucky no one really noticed how smiley you were or how flushed I was from our trip to the shed,” he tells you and self-consciously rubs his hand along his jaw. Eyes lighting up with mirth, you sputter to contain your giggles. “It's not funny, atrevida—”
“Aww, it’s not?” you croon playfully as you strut over to lean into him, grinning when he grunts testily and seats his hands just above your hips. “Javier, if you’ve forgotten, we’re grown adults. It’s the 90’s. She knows I have sex—”
“Cristo amado, preciosa. I know that, but c'mon, it’s mortifying,” is his surly grumble, and you amusedly caress your hands impishly up his chest to squeeze his shoulders. “Hey, I told you to behave.”
“I am behaving,” you counter, adding glibly, “I’m not pouncing on you. I want to climb you like a tree right now, but I'm behaving.”
He blows a raspberry at that and shakes his head, smiling when you encircle your arms around his waist and hug him. Acerbically, he drawls, “We can’t fool around in the house. No way I’m risking getting caught—”
“Oh my god, who knew you were so old-fashioned and traditional, not to mention so easy to embarrass,” you tease, looping your arms around his shoulders now and wrinkling your nose goofily at him when he rolls his eyes snootily. “You’re a shameless strumpet most days—”
“Strumpet?!” he sneers humorously, squinting down at your mischievous smile and squeezing your waist puckishly. “Alright, you’re winding me up to get a rise out of me, but it ain’t happening, burlona. Now, you done in here? Because we have a long-ass drive ahead of us tomorrow,” Javi chidingly grouses, but there’s no real edge to it, especially when you bat your lashes and dampen your lips sexily at him. “Well?” he drones, holding firm as he arches his brow and eyes you stubbornly.
With a dramatic huff, you step back and shut the kitchen light off. “Yes, gruñón. All done. I’m going to straighten things up in the living room. You go take a shower and unwind,” you sigh and pleasantly caress his cheek before kissing him on the lips tenderly.
“Fine, but don’t stay up too late,” he purrs and nuzzles your jaw before pinching your waist lovingly.
You hum agreeably and nudge him along before strutting into the living room to right the cushions and move the coffee table back into alignment with the couch. Javi fondly watches you before forcing himself to go shower and get ready for bed.
He’s been lying under the covers for a few minutes now, trying to control his libido and avoid succumbing to his horny needs. After all, he certainly doesn’t feel right jerking off to get the release he’s been aching for most of the night, and is mortified by the thought he could be walked in on. So, he’s rubbing at his forehead and silently trying to conjure all the things that are a turn-off in an attempt to cool his arousal.
He hears the turn of the doorknob and the soft click, so he drops his hand from his forehead and glances over in time to see you breeze in and shut the door soundlessly. You’re in that demure-yet-sexy nightgown, and it’s the last thing he needs to see right now when he’s grappling with his baser desires.
“Querida…” he begins to admonish, but when you turn to look at him, it’s pure seduction in your eyes, and you smile angelically as you scamper over to the bed and begin to climb onto it. “…You…you’re not behaving right now,” he murmurs and begins to sit up, when you prowl over him and push him back down into the pillow. “We can't—”
“I know. We’re not doing anything, hermoso,” you whisper and brush your hand over his hair soothingly before caressing soft, petal-gentle kisses along his countenance as you susurrate, “I’m going to make you feel good. And you’re going to be a good boy and let me take care of you, because you deserve it, and it makes me feel special to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
Javi lights up, stretching out under you and becoming pliant as you finally brush your lips over his. The amorous kiss and your sultry petition have him throbbing in his pajama bottoms, so you maneuver the covers over and straddle his thighs in order to worshipfully trail your lips down his torso towards the bulge beyond his waistband. His abs tense and a shaky hum catches in his chest when you swipe your tongue above his navel before pressing an open-mouth kiss over it.
Arching when you tug the waistband of his bottoms away to free his thick erection, Javi has to clamp his hand over his mouth to snuff his needy groan when your mouth begins mapping the underside of his cock. You suck on his frenulum, palming his steel-wrapped-in-velvet shaft in order to kiss along it lovingly. He’s already so worked up that pre-cum has collected at the head of his swollen tip, so you decide to not tease him any longer.
The soft, wet slide of him being sucked into your warm mouth has Javi’s eyes fluttering shut as he moans into his hand and writhes up for more, bucking his hips when you hum and hollow out your cheeks around his throbbing cock.
You love giving him pleasure like this. It makes you feel powerful, able to strum delight through him, to dominate him while on your knees as you try not to choke on his cock. It’s exhilarating when you know he’s wound up and edgy about getting caught, but desperate to get off after going without for so long. And while it’s got you wet and needy for him, you concentrate on sucking him off the way you know he likes it, and when you cup his balls and squeeze lightly, Javi buries his whine into his palm before fisting his free hand in the bedding as his cock swells and strains in your mouth just before he fills it with his climax.
Accomplishedly, you moan around him and stroke him through it while you swallow his spill, making sure to milk his cock of his release until he’s shivering and panting harshly against his hand.
Javi melts heavily into the bed on a reedy exhale, hand flopping onto his chest just below a collarbone as he drunkenly recovers and dimly feels you shift to tenderly kiss his softening length before you adjust the cotton bottoms back into place. Your warm lips trail up his midriff before you lean to cheekily flick the tip of your tongue over his nipple. He lets out a charge breath and snickers as he moves his hand from his chest to bury in the back of your hair in order to guide you down to lie on top of him.
“I love you so much. Today was so…wonderful. Yesterday feels like it was a bad dream. That’s because of you…how you make me feel,” you find yourself speaking your stream of consciousness in a soft whisper while Javi combs his fingers through your hair as his other hand caresses gently along the back of your shoulder. “I…I want to make you feel just as good—”
“You do,” he rumbles and nuzzles you. “You always do. I love you too.”
Buzzing with the wave of happiness his words tingle through you, it’s easy for you to lean up and gaze openly at his heavy-lidded eyes and pensive smile. “So does that mean you’re up to misbehave and have hot, passionate sex right now?” you provocatively purr and make your point by straddling his lap so he can feel how warm you are between your thighs.
“Fuuuck,” Javi drags out in a frustrated exhale, heat flaring across his skin and making him burn with need all over again. “You’re a damned temptress, you know that?” is his surly growl as he clasps his hands on your thighs and thwarts you from grinding over him. “You want to get us caught?!”
“I’m willing to risk the chance,” you retort simply, and when he tosses his head back onto the pillow in frustration, you huff and relent. “Alright, fine,” you scoff before shifting off of his lap to lean over him and steal a peck from his lips before stating tauntingly, “You’re such a wannabe choirboy, when you’re really an insatiable stud, but fine, I can control myself and wait until we get home.”
“I’m not the only one who’s insatiable, malvadita,” he grouses and sits up to tow you back over for one last passionate kiss.
He makes you weak in the knees, so much so that when he pulls back, you chase his lips until you pout when he smirks smugly at you. Scoffing, you ruffle his hair daringly and growl, “Tease.”
His chuckle is velvet over steel, so you shove him playfully before standing and sauntering to the door with a parting, “Goodnight, galán,” murmured over your shoulder at him.
“Sleep tight, cariño,” he innocently drawls in that canela-dipped timbre before settling back down into bed and watching you wryly shake your head as you slip out of the room.
You manage to get to sleep, exhaustion taking you into a sound slumber. So much so, that you don’t stir at all the rest of the night. It’s early the next morning when you feel someone stirring you from your deep sleep.
“Lindita. Wake up! Come and see,” your grandmother is whispering as she shakes and pats your shoulder.
“See what?” you groggily mumble as you sit up and yawn into the back of your hand.
She’s smiling giddily, so you push the covers back and scurry out of bed to follow her out of the bedroom to quietly tiptoe down the hall to the kitchen. When you peek in, you practically fawn out loud.
Javi’s wearing a faded gray Henley shirt and dark blue jeans, with one of your grandmother’s aprons looped around his neck and over the front of his torso as he tends to the huevos rancheros sauce he’s stirring in the pan. He’s humming to himself, completely unaware that you’re both peering around the corner with dual Cheshire cat smiles at the sight of him.
Your grandmother squeezes your forearm playfully and beams as she mouths, ’I love him.’
The sublime feeling that fills you up is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.
’He’s mine, so don’t get any ideas,’ you mouth back to her, and she snickers.
You both sneak back down the hall, rush to get dressed, and then lope back down casually, as if you hadn’t spied on him in the kitchen. When you enter, Javi’s just finished plating the first dish.
“What is this? You dare to cook in my kitchen? For shame, mijo!” your grandmother jokingly scathes as she rushes over to marvel at the meal before leaning up to kiss Javi affectionately on the cheek. “Oh, these are the famous juevos rancheros, eh?”
“They are. And this plate’s for you,” he retorts warmly as he serves the dish and pulls out a chair for her.
“Sucking up to my abuela? Really? She already loves you, you overachiever!” is your snarky tease as you notice he brewed a kettle of coffee. “And you made coffee?!”
“I did,” he chuckles and kisses you chastely on the lips, shooting your faded-but-well-loved David Bowie shirt a teasing glance before he pats the back of your blue-jean-clad hip flirtatiously and drawls, “But need you to warm up the milk and show me how she takes it.”
You see your grandmother swoon merrily behind Javi, so you grin at him before retrieving what you need and showing him. When he takes off the apron, you playfully tug at the front of his stretchy cotton shirt and purr, “No button down?”
“It’s all I had left that was clean in the duffle,” he rumbles and cheekily squeezes your waist before plating the last two dishes and gesturing for you to sit and eat.
Breakfast is a wonderful affair, making it all the more difficult to pack the car and say your goodbyes. The sudden separation anxiety that wells in your chest when you and Javi step out onto the porch causes you to turn and look at your grandmother with a lump in your throat. She senses your distress and holds out her arms to you. The hug is fortifying, and only a couple of tears escape past your lashes and roll down your cheeks as she coos, “I know, mija. I’ll miss you, but you’ll both be back in no time. Everything will be fine.”
You kiss her cheek and nod before quickly swiping your face with the backs of your forefingers to clear the tear streaks. “I’ll call every day. You make sure to let me know if there’s anything needed still that I can help with—”
“You’ve done plenty, mi niña!” she scoffs amusedly before looking at Javi and gesturing to you. “Take care of my lindita, mijo. And be sure to come prepared for quite the celebrating next weekend!”
Javi chuckles and nods before giving her a kiss on the cheek and one last hug goodbye. “Consider it done, ma'am.”
She’s waving enthusiastically from her porch as you both drive off a few minutes later, and that anxiety is completely gone for now, because you look over at Javi after he rests his warm hand lovingly on your thigh, and feel a sense of calm wash over you.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asks, stare gentle as he adds humorously, “I know our track record in cars when I’m the one driving, but I promise to be on my best behavior.”
You laugh, melodious and enchanting as you shake your head. “It’s fine. We can switch at the halfway mark, if that’s alright,” you chuckle and pat his hand, smiling when he relaxes and leans back into his seat.
As you exit the neighborhood en route for the highway, you remember how you’d promised that you’d tell him what was bothering you at work. So, reluctantly, you figure that since you’re driving onto the freeway now, and it would be a long period before you can pull over, that now might be the best time of any to divulge what happened. Well, more specifically, to tell him some curated version of what happened, seeing as the whole truth might send Javi into a furious spiral. He’s just finished adjusting the passenger seat back to accommodate his height and reached into the back to retrieve his concealed service weapon from his duffle before he opens your glove compartment and stores it in there when you were about to pipe up.
You shoot him a surprised look instead, and he shrugs as he settles back in the seat with a reassuring, “Just in case, is all.”
Nodding, you concentrate on the road ahead, deliberating while he goes into his back pocket for the packet of nicotine gum and pops one loose. As he’s chewing on it and admiring how your perfume entwines with the fresh smell your car’s little air freshener’s scent thanks to the air conditioning keeping the interior cool under the rising heat of the early morning sun, you reach for the radio and turn the soft salsa down further before clearing your throat.
“So…since all we have is plenty of time to kill, I figure now is a decent time to tell you about what’s been bothering me,” you offer cautiously, sparing him a sidelong glance as you get in the cruising lane.
Javi perks up at that and stretches out his legs, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows before he crosses his arms casually. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, querida,” he assures, brown eyes gentle as they regard your pensive expression.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t want to tell you at all, but I promised, so I’d rather do it now before we get home,” you sincerely retort and let out a sigh when his gaze sharpens at that. “First off…you were right. Something happened at work that made me feel the need to expedite the linkup here. Missing the deadline for it would’ve set us back for a launch with state
Hello, my dears! Sorry for the long lapse in posting, but I’m back with a mega pint of a chapter (yes, I said it. Sue me) that I hope will make up for the lull.
Pairing: Javier Peña/F!Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Character Count: 21,500+
Summary: After a perilous event, you and Javi find solace in the respite of being together amongst a surprising support system. But when it’s time to confront truths, will you both be able to protect each other and stay grounded in the love that tethers you together?
Warnings: Javier Peña being the ultimate BAE. Graphic descriptions of sex, including explicit depictions of oral (m+f receiving) and unprotected sex. Mentions of hurt/comfort, emotional trauma, toxic coping mechanisms, and suppressed feelings. Descriptions of raunchy behavior, light dom/sub play, cum play, size kink, praise kink, and dirty talk. Allusions to triggering events, foreboding threats, and psychological trauma. Some Protective!Javi, Dom! Javi, Sub!Javi, Sub!Reader, Wrathful!Javi. In the vein of Narcos being a bilingual show, and Javier Peña being fluent, I felt it was apropos to include Spanglish and Spanish throughout.
When you next wake, you can tell it’s around the time that lavender haze of twilight starts to pale into early dawn. You lie there for a bit and just enjoy the tranquility, still enveloped by the warmth of being in the small bed together while the fresh air of early morning filters in through the windows. His scent – masculine yet softened by fragrant soap – chastens the small tremor of anxiety that bubbled up as your mind recalled everything that had happened the day before. You want to curl into him and forget it, but know you can’t get caught in bed together lest you want to get a scolding from your grandmother, so you decide you have to part with the solace of being snuggled up with him.
