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kiwisbell · 6 months

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Las Mañanas || Chapter 2 [javier peña]

She’s a waitress in a little café. He’s a DEA agent who likes the coffee. Just the coffee. That’s all. Or, slices of life (and sometimes pie) shared between Javi and his wife, including his tireless journey to making her his wife.

series masterlist | my masterlist

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags/warnings: javi getting the fucking love he deserves, coffee shop AU if you squint really hard, technical infidelity, reader still has a shitty husband, mentions of sex work, soft and sweet!javi, protective!javi, grumpy!javi, simp!javi tbh, alcohol, smoking, FLIRTING, gun violence, so much fluff, steve is still a little shit, nobody fucks with javi's girl, overuse of spanish pet names, poorly-translated spanish, "she" pronoun used throughout, this chapter is a fuckfest, unprotected PIV (get used to this, these two are rabid), accident-prone reader, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), dirty talk, javi's anxiety, sex in the evidence room, possessive!javi, reader calls javi a slut (lovingly), reader is #1 javi defender

word count: ~ 10k

chapter two: cries for help, lost in the woods

He goes with her to the courts for the restraining order. There’s hardly any basis to deny her once Javier reveals the conversation he recorded with Nicolás.

She refuses to file for divorce until she knows Javier’s life is truly safe, even though he’s told her nobody would dare harm a DEA agent like him. “I don’t care,” she tells him one night over homemade empanadas: her father’s recipe. Javier tried to help cook, but she’s comfortable in the kitchen, and he’s not. Still, he does enjoy the thrill of her scolding him every now and then. “This way, I know he won’t come near me, and whenever I’m with you, he won’t come near you, either.”

“This your way of getting me to stick around, cielito?” he teases.

She just smiles at him over a forkful. “Yeah, it is.”

One night, she’s at his place, watching a pot of water while it heats up and sneaking glances at Javier, who pretends he doesn’t notice while he pours their drinks.

He sets down a glass of whiskey next to her. She sips it gratefully; she’s wearing a long skirt, a cozy sweater, and her glasses, which are fogging up over the stove. He says her name, and it rings like a shot in the quiet. She hums.

“You wanna ask me something or keep on staring?”

She looks him over. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

That isn’t nearly the question he anticipated, but it makes him grin, which makes her roll her eyes. “You offerin’, honey?” he says, sliding up next to her. The inside of his thigh brushes the outside of hers, and that contact alone thrills him.

She pokes him in the centre of his chest. “You’re such a man, Javier.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“So it could backfire on me when you said something stupid like, ‘You offering?’” She waves a dismissive hand. “Cabrón.”

Javier goes easy on her, just because she’s flustered. “It’s been a while.”

She looks down at the pot of water. It’s still simmering.

“I don’t want you to feel like that,” she says quietly, “like you can’t be with someone else. I… I just…”

Javier crowds her some more, tilting his head so he can catch her eyes. He smooths her hair behind her ear. “Just what?”

“I just don’t like the thought of you with someone else,” she admits.

It strikes him right in his core. He frowns down at her. “You think about that?” he says softly.

“I do.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t like the thought of you with someone else, either, cielito.” The thought of it alone raises his hackles. His hand brushes hers, and he turns her palm up so he can press a kiss to the pulse on her wrist. “You think about me?”

Her gaze is so gentle. “Of course I think about you, Javi. You’re all I think about.”

Her confession sends his heart soaring, and he likes the feeling of being so lightheaded, so pliant and calm when her voice swims in his ears. “Can’t close my eyes without seeing you, amor,” he tells her, kissing the pads of her fingers. The water begins to boil. “You’re in my blood.”

She gasps when his hand trails down her throat, over her collarbones, down her arm until goosebumps are lifting on her skin. “Then why aren’t you kissing me?”

Javier doesn’t think he can physically restrain himself much longer. He wants to kiss the breath out of her, kiss away her fucking soul. He wants to bend her over and take her in his bed. He needs her. He fucking craves her laughter and her sweetness and the way her touch can soothe the ache in his bones. But he’s pretty sure he hates himself.

He’s an asshole, he smokes too much, he has no friends, and his work has him practically sleeping at his desk more often than not. He isn’t good at relationships; he left his last one at the altar, for fuck’s sake. No woman like her should want someone like him.

“Because…” Javier brushes his thumb over her bottom lip. “No soy lo suficientemente bueno para ti (I’m not good enough for you).”

She frowns deeply. “How can you say that? You are caring, and hardworking, and smart, and sexy. Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” She’s getting louder, and the fervour in her voice stuns him. “Fuck, Javier, you’re risking your life every single day to keep this country safe and you’re busting your ass over all this red tape and bullshit you can’t control, and you’re still finding the time to help me escape my fucking marriage! If you can’t see how incredible you are, I’m going to keep telling you. Every single day of your goddamn life. Understood?”

Javier just closes the distance between them, cups her face in his hands, and kisses her. Hard.

A small noise of surprise leaves her, and it encourages him. Her arms fly up around his neck as he reaches blindly across the stove and turns off the burner. She laughs softly, kissing him just as fiercely, backing up until her ass hits the counter. “Javi,” she breathes into his mouth.

Fuck, she tastes like heaven. Her body is so warm, so soft underneath him, and he’s taken by the way it curves up into him. She stands on her toes and he uses the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass and lift her onto the counter. Overcome with desire, feeling it curl in his core, blood rushing downward, he keeps kissing her. He’s on her constantly, from the corner of her mouth to her jaw to her earlobe, which he takes between his teeth. She shivers, clutching his hair, making him groan. “Fuck, baby,” he says gruffly, feeling her grind down on him. He breaks away, chest heaving, and drops to his knees. “Want to make you feel good. Can I make you feel good? Hmm, cielito?” She’s breathing hard as she nods, face flushed, looking down at him with her lips parted. “Answer me, honey,” says Javier, smoothing his hands over her soft thighs, easing them open. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” comes her soft sigh, her eyes alight with lust.

She sounds so excited, so willing to put her trust in him, to let him make her feel good. Javier squeezes her ass so she’ll lift her hips off the counter, and then he’s working that long flowy skirt down her legs, taking her panties with it. “Mierda,” he whispers when he sees the red lace of her underwear. “So beautiful.”

She squirms, laughing softly when he begins trailing kisses down her legs, all the way to her ankles. He keeps one of her legs atop his shoulder as he crowds her again and finally sees his meal, glistening at the apex of her thighs. Javier goes blind with desire for an entire second, kneading her flesh as she stares down at him and places a finger under his chin.

“I know you get around,” she says, whisper-quiet, “and that’s okay. But if we’re going to do this, I need to know it’s me you’re looking at and not another girl.”

“There’s no other girl,” says Javier, and he means it. “I don’t want another girl. I want you.”

She bites her lip and it’s a heavenly sight, from here where he’s got her leg slung over his shoulder. “Then I’m all yours.”

Javier leans forward and bites at the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, spurred on by a tremor of arousal down his spine. “That’s right, baby,” he grunts into her skin. “My fuckin’ girl.”

She laughs breathlessly at the tickle of his exhale over her centre, but it becomes a strangled gasp when he licks up her wet slit, tasting the tang of her. It’s the most delectable fucking sweetness he’s ever known. Possessed, Javier dives back in, kissing and licking at her as she cries out and her legs tremble around his head. He just wraps his arms around her thighs and splays a hand over her stomach, keeping her still, locking eyes with her as her brow scrunches in pleasure and a tear falls down her cheek. She repeats his name like it’s going to save her life, and he has never been so fucking hard.

“Please,” she begs, her voice a small puddle, “please. Oh, please, Javi…” He doesn’t think she knows what she’s asking for, but the sound of her whimpers is enough to make him growl against her. He feels her clench around his tongue at the vibrations, her eyes glazed over as they try to keep locked on his. She’s so good, keeping her eyes open, watching him give her pleasure.

He takes her clit into his mouth and sucks, and that’s when she breaks, her eyes fluttering shut and her head falling back, a hand bracing on the counter as the other flies to his hair, tangling her fingers in it. Javier groans at the feeling of her nails scratching his scalp, more determined than ever to make her come. She’s shaking so bad he’s worried she’ll fall off the counter, but he grips her harder, fingers digging into her flesh, and she finally snaps.

“Javi!” she cries, clenching and spilling on his tongue. He’s so fucking greedy, aching for her, that he just holds on tighter and coaxes her through it, ignoring his erection as he becomes possessed by the feel and taste of his girl writhing beneath him.

“I…” Her voice comes out as a croak, her head tipping to the side to rest on the cabinet as he lets her leg slip off his shoulder. “I… fuck, I—”

“I know, baby.” He presses a kiss to her thigh and stands up, helping her down and bringing her flush against him to kiss her once more. She gasps when she tastes herself on his tongue.

“Javi,” she sighs into his mouth, bringing a hand down to his hip, the other cupping the back of his neck. “You’re…” She begins to laugh softly. “Fuck, you’re so hard.”

He huffs when she breaks the kiss. “All you, cariño. No idea what you do to me.”

She brings her lower lip between her teeth and presses up against him. He grimaces with the effort of holding back as he feels her warm body slide along his cock. He can’t take her right here in his kitchen. He wants to spread her out on his bed, make sure she’s comfortable. “I think I can feel what I do to you,” she says with a shy smile.

He leans in real close and bares his teeth against her throat, making more laughter bubble up. She’s evidently still dazed from her orgasm, which makes Javier’s chest swell with pride. “Gotta tell me that’s it, honey,” he says gruffly. “Tell me you’ve had enough and I’ll stop.”

She shakes her head, reaching down between them and gently squeezing his length through his jeans. He groans and bucks up against her. “I need you, Javier,” she tells him, pulling him back so she can look him in the eye. She looks so sincere, so wanting, and he decides he’s going to do everything in his power for the rest of his life to make sure she’s never disappointed. “Want to make you feel good.”

He doesn’t want to tell her that watching her orgasm was the closest he’s come to spilling in his jeans since he was a teenager. Instead, he kisses her again, lifts her glasses off her nose to set them on the countertop, and squeezes her waist. “Never felt better, baby,” he tells her. “Gonna take you to bed.”

He carries her to his bedroom with her legs wrapped around his waist because it’s more ergonomic to keep kissing her this way. He kicks the door shut behind him, as if someone else could come in, as if there’s even a chance someone else could see her the way he’s seeing her now. No, he wants to be the only man who knows her body like this: the way she arches up against him when he grabs a handful of her ass, the way she melts into him with soft sighs and small moans. His body reacts with an instinctive desire to wrap himself protectively around her, to drive himself deep inside her and make her forget all her worries.

His knees hit the edge of his bed, and he lowers her onto it so he can crawl up her body. She watches him reverently, a hand sliding into his hair once more. Javier kisses every square inch of skin he can find, enjoying her little huffs of impatience until he himself can’t stand her being half-clothed in that cute sweater. He peers up at her and she nods, so he makes his way up her stomach, pushing the sweater up over her head as he kisses her belly, her sternum, her ribs. Her bra goes next when he reaches behind her and unclips it, his cock throbbing with need at the sight of her bare tits in his face. He wastes no time latching onto a nipple with his mouth and pulling, teasing, as she squirms and pouts, muttering, “Off, please,” trying to lift up his shirt over his head.

She’s so fucking adorable it makes his chest tight. Javier leans back and she chases him, her lips parting at the sight of his bare stomach, bare chest, when his shirt comes off and falls to the floor somewhere near her sweater. He’s on her again immediately, her head falling back against his pillows. She laughs breathlessly. “So eager.”

“Fucking right I am,” he says, his hand sliding down the curve of her waist. “Wanted you for so long.”

She smiles, cupping his face and smoothing back some hair that had fallen in his eyes. “You have me,” she tells him. “However you want me, Javier.”

And fuck, he wants all of her, in every way, all the time. He scrambles back off the bed, shucks off his jeans in record time, and preens at the way she stares openly at him, like she wants to bask in his body. “No underwear?” She lifts a brow. “Slut.”

His cock twitches under her attention and he crawls back onto the bed, kneeling between her open legs. “Pot, kettle, baby. Look how wet you are. All for me.”

She whimpers for him to attend to her, but he wants to play a little. He gently smacks the side of her thigh, soothing the spot with his fingers when it's over. She inhales sharply. “Dime.”

“All for you,” she says firmly, even as her breathing starts to sound like she's focusing on each round: in and out, in and out. “I’m wet for you, Javier.”

“Good girl,” he says, biting her bottom lip. “Muy hermosa.”

“Do you want me on my hands and knees?” she asks.

He grunts. “No, baby. Want to see you. Want you to look at me.”

He slips his hand between her folds, dipping slightly into her entrance, and she gasps. “Oh!” Her cheeks flush. “I already… You don’t have to—”

He doesn’t like that: her hesitance to take, her shyness when it comes to letting him pleasure her. Her husband must have been a horrific partner in bed, not to mention the men who would pay to fuck her only to use her like a sex doll. Javier wants to make her feel good; he always loved to watch women fall apart under his touch. Maybe it’s some egotistical shit, but fuck, getting her off turns him on. It unsettles him that she doesn’t know it.

“Want you to listen to me, cielito,” he says, pushing a finger inside her. Her chest is heaving, her eyes slightly unfocused, but she looks up at him nonetheless. “You listening?” She nods frantically. “I want to make you feel good. I’m going to make you forget he ever touched you.”

She moans when he adds another finger and strokes up against her walls in a way that has her keening, drawing out his name in one long breath. “Make… me… forget who?” she manages to pant.

Javier gently smacks her ass. “That’s right, baby. You’re gonna give me another. Yeah?”

She nods, keeping her eyes trained on him as he pumps his fingers in and out. She’s close again, sucking in his fingers whenever he brushes up against that spot inside her. His thumb applies pressure to her clit, rubbing slow circles, and she’s coming: her eyes rolling back into her head, her jaw tensing, her lips parting as a delicious moan slips from her. He helps her come down, then brings his soaked fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. She watches it all with darkened eyes, struggling to catch her breath. “Javi, I need you,” she says. “Need you so bad.”

“You’ve got me, honey.” Javier lifts her thighs up onto his so her hips are raised, level with his cock. “You’ve had me since I first fucking walked into that place.”

He guides himself to her entrance and relishes in her neediness, the way her hips shift to try and push him into her. He grips her thigh. “Patience. Do you want me to put on a condom? I’m clean.”

She wiggles her hips against him and shakes her head. “I’m clean. Birth control. Want to feel you, Javi.”

He pushes himself another inch forward with a huff. “Bossy,” he grumbles, watching himself sink deep into her tight, hot cunt. The pressure is overwhelming, making his spine pinch with pleasure, He grits his teeth when their hips meet. “ Fuck. Christ… so tight, baby.”

He wants to last. He wants to draw out her pleasure, to be inside her like this forever. He gives an experimental thrust, short and deep, grinding into her so he can’t possibly get any deeper, and her hand flails, reaching for his hip as if to push him back. “Oh. You’re so big, Javi, I can’t…”

Even though her words make him twitch inside her, he leans down, bringing one of her legs over his hips, watching her back arch at the new angle, and says, “Yeah, you can. You can take me, honey, you can. Relax, mi cielo.”

Her body melts against him when he rolls his hips into her, and she begs him to kiss her. Not that she needs to beg. The kiss is messy once he gets a rhythm going, but she feels so good he can’t think to stop. “Yes, yes,” come her soft cries as he pushes into her at a steady, deep pace. Her nails scratch down his back and she keeps giving him the noises he wants, keeps moaning and praising him for how good he feels inside her. He knows it, can feel it, his mind slipping into the empty space that can only focus on the bone-deep feeling of her: how tight she is, how she clenches, so fucking hot and wet around him, the noises of their sex that echo in his ears. He’s lost in her, forgetting about all the shit he has to face every day and just enjoying her, his girl, wrapped around him.

“Tell me how it feels,” he tells her, feeling his self-control loosening as his orgasm nears. “Talk to me.”

She moans when he pushes up into her. “So… so good, Javi. You… you’re so deep. So good, make me feel so good, fuck.”

That’s enough to activate the primal part of his brain. He drags her farther down the bed and lifts both her legs high enough to rest on his shoulders. She cries out and scrambles for a purchase on his chest, but he thrusts deep, and her entire body seizes, the column of her throat exposed as her head falls back and an unabashed groan rips from her throat. Her hands twist the bed sheets instead. “Fuck!”

“That’s it,” he grits out, watching her fall apart on his cock. “That’s fucking it. I got you, baby.”

“Gonna—ohhhh—gonna come, Javi—ah!” He grinds real deep when she comes, fucking her through her orgasm while her body stiffens then goes slack under him, her brows knitted together in pleasure.

He feels his orgasm build shamelessly now that she’s come for him. His balls draw up and his cock twitches in her, groaning as her walls pulse around him as he draws out her high.

His forearm gives out when it hits him and he drops to his elbow, her legs falling back around his waist to keep him close. Javier releases a deep groan into her throat and makes his way back to her mouth. Her cunt squeezes him until he’s spilling deep inside her, his cum dripping from their joined bodies, and he rolls his hips to shove it deeper.

It’s a delicious feeling, intoxicating, and she’s rocking her hips to meet his, tightening around him, milking more cum from the tip of his cock. “Fuck,” he hisses, baring his teeth against her throat. “Fuck, honey. Easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

She giggles, knocked into another state of hazy pleasure. “You almost killed me.”

He must be truly fucked through, because he chuckles, too, collapsing on top of her. She strokes his hair as he stays nestled in her, using her breasts like a pillow. “We never ate dinner,” she muses.

“We never made dinner,” he says idly. “You feel okay?”

“I feel… fucked,” she says. “But I don't want to stroke your ego any more than I already have.”

He playfully bites her nipple. “Too late.”

She focuses on scratching at the nape of his neck and he damn near purrs like a cat. “I’m glad it was you,” she says softly.

Javier squeezes her hip and feels his throat tighten. “Me too, baby,” he says hoarsely. He needs a cigarette just to calm the erratic heartbeat in his chest. This is where he wants to be every morning and every night.

She lets out a small hum, which he feels in his cheek. “My turn to ask. You okay?”

He huffs, nestling just a bit deeper into her skin. “Just… they usually leave.”

She tilts up his chin so he can look at her. “Do you want me to leave, Javier?” Her eyes are soft, understanding, and he knows she’ll bolt out of here in a second if he asks. She knows he's got worries: relationships and chasing narcos don't mix; she could get hurt, or he could; his relationship with Lorraine had died a fiery death. But letting the girl in his bed leave without another word hasn't even crossed Javier’s mind. “If it's too fast…”

Javier shakes his head and makes his way up to her face, kissing her and rolling them over so she straddles him. “I wasn't fast enough,” he grumbles. “I’ve got you now, amor, and I’m not gonna fuckin' let you go. Don't want you to leave, not now, not ever.”

She smiles wickedly. “For what it’s worth, I’d be thrilled to stay in your bed all hours of the day.”

He knows his life can destroy them both. But it seems idiotic not to try.

He wakes up with the sun shining right in his eyes, and he knows it’s too early for a Sunday, but when he rolls over to seek the warmth of the other body in his bed, Javier’s hand lands on a cool mattress.

He blinks himself awake and frowns all the way to the door, where he haphazardly throws on his discarded pair of jeans from last night, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms as he makes his way into the kitchen. That’s when his foggy brain starts to clear up. He didn’t expect her to run off in the middle of the night, and it worries him. He feels like a fucking teenager, wondering if he moved too fast, if she is afraid to face him, if (God forbid) she regrets it, being technically married and all. He wonders if—

The clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen drowns the noise in his head. She’s making breakfast.

In her panties.

Wearing his shirt.

The shirt he wore last night.

If morning wood wasn’t routinely a problem already, she’s just made it worse.

“Good morning,” she beams at him over her shoulder. Her skin glows in the golden light and his shirt tips off her right shoulder so slightly, and her hair is messy but he can tell she tried to smooth it down with her hands. He comes up behind her and tips her chin up so he can kiss her. Her hand lands on his stomach and the other on his cheek.

“Slow down, viejo,” she mumbles. “Can’t have sex on an empty stomach at your age.”

He grunts and nips her bottom lip. “Such a smart fuckin’ mouth.”

She laughs, gently swatting him aside. “Need me to scold you, or will you sit?”

He’s already sitting down at the small dining table, but he does like the idea of her scolding him. When she reaches up into his cabinets for the olive oil, his shirt slips up over her ass and he can see the same lacy underwear he tore off her last night. Javier adjusts himself in his chair, in his jeans, and clears his throat. “Sure you don’t need help, cariño?”

“I’ve made tortillas de papas a hundred times, honey, so you just sit back and relax,” she orders. “You want coffee?”

“It’s not as good as yours.”

“I’ve had your coffee, Javi. It’s not that bad.” She slips the tortillas onto two plates and pours some coffee, then sits opposite him—but not before he leans across the table and kisses her.

“Gracias, amor,” he says under his breath.

She swipes her thumb over his jaw. “You need a haircut.”

He nudges his nose against hers. “You up to the challenge?”

“At least you aren't grey yet,” she teases.

He nips her chin. “You might get me there yourself, cariño.”

Javier lights a cigarette and blows the smoke out of the open window.

“Let's see.” She makes a show of sliding out of the chair and around the table, sitting right in his lap. He brings his hands to her thighs and hums when she sidles up real close. Her glasses are back on her nose, fogged up from their kiss, and she scrunches up her face in mock concentration. “Yeah,” she decides. “I can work with this, if I try real hard. Let me get the scissors—”

He lands a smack on her ass and she gasps. “Careful, honey,” he says, blowing out smoke. “Mouth like that’ll get you in trouble.”

She plucks the cigarette from his lips. “Can't believe I slept with such an asshole,” she mumbles, leaning in to kiss him.

“Tell me about it, bebita,” he says into her mouth, stealing back his cigarette and crushing it in the ashtray. He gives her ass another gentle smack and says, “Eat.”

She slides her plate over to his side and they eat right there, with her in his lap.

When it's finally time for her to go home, she lingers in his doorway, after they've already stalled for a good twenty minutes.

“Javi, I…”

“Fuck it.” He pulls her by the waist and drags her back inside, pressing her up against the wall and kicking the door shut. “Sunday, right?” he says.

“Yeah,” she sighs, staring dreamily up at him. He’s going to do everything in his power to earn the way she looks at him. “It’s Sunday.”

“Market’s on Sundays,” he points out.

She bites her lip. “Javier. Are you asking me on a date?”

“Haven’t gotten there yet.” He takes a deep breath and slides his fingers down her arm until they slide together with hers. “Come to the market with me?”

“As your date?” She’s toying with him, but it only emboldens him.

“Fucking right, as my date.” He squeezes her hand. “Say yes, baby. End my misery.”

She stands on her toes and kisses him. “Yes, I’ll be your date. But I need a change of clothes.”

“Why? You look beautiful.”

She stares at him pointedly. “I look like I’ve been fucked. I can’t do a walk of shame, Javi, I can’t.”

He likes the well-earned puffiness of sleep to her lips, the wrinkle to the skirt that lies on the floor in his bedroom. He likes that it means he’s made her feel good, that she slept well, that she’s comfortable in his space. He can’t remember the last time he slept so well, and he suspects it’s thanks to her sweet-smelling, soft, warm body next to his. “We’ll stop by your place,” he says, reaching for the hem of the shirt that’s on her body and letting his fingers wander up her belly, grabbing her tits under the fabric. “But I’ll need my shirt back.”

The market is busy. It gives him an excuse to hold her hand as they navigate it.

She’s giddy, clinging to him, her other hand wrapped around his bicep as she takes in every stand and smiles at all the vendors. Javier has his sunglasses on so he doesn’t make eye contact with any of them.

Crowded spaces make him nervous. He doesn’t have his gun on him (he’s an asshole, but he’s not so much an asshole that he carries a gun on a date), which means he’s resorted to squeezing her hand every time he spots a sudden movement in his periphery. The surge of the crowd isn’t perilous, but it itches him nonetheless. Any one of the faces here could be one he’s looking for. Even narcos frequent markets.

“You’re pouting,” she says from his side.

“I’m not pouting.”

“Yeah, honey, you are. Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Out of the corner of his eye, a man whips something from his pocket, lightning-fast, and Javier can’t help but react, his hand going to her stomach to guide her behind him. But the man just pulls a wad of pesos from his pocket and pays for a pair of earrings: a gift to his wife, he tells the vendor.

Javier can acquiesce that fine, maybe he’s been pouting.

“You’re anxious,” she says, her eyes gentle. “I understand. But you know that readiness of yours? It keeps you alive. I’m okay with that.”

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. All he knows is that the tight, tense feeling in his chest is loosening, and his body is calmer with her hands on him.

She rubs her thumb over his hand. “We can go, Javi. I’ve looked at everything I want to.”

He kisses her temple. “Come with me, cariño. Wanna show you something.”

“When a guy says he ‘knows a spot,’ a girl doesn’t usually think evidence room. Well, not right away.”

She stays in the doorway when Javier lets go of her hand, hugging herself. He holds out his hand once more. “Maintenance staff keep away from this room on a good day. Only danger in here is dust.”

She takes his hand and lets him lead her through the crowded stacks; crowded, but with files and boxes instead of people. It’s quiet, it’s dim, and it’s practically his life. He wants to share it with her.

“So this is Agent Peña,” she says, placing a hand against one of the boxes as they walk single-file through a narrow stack. Her expression is somewhat sad. “Can I be honest, Javi?”

“You’re going to say my job sucks.”

She blows out a long breath. “It’s just… It’s thankless. You have to learn everything you don’t want to know about some of the worst people imaginable. And nobody even knows it’s you who’s trying to keep their streets safe. Why do you do it?”

Javier leans against a shelf and thinks her question over. Not even Murphy has bothered to ask him that. The both of them are rigid, determined, no pausing to think about why the fuck they were trying so hard when every lead seemed to slip through their fingers. “I believe in justice,” he tells her. “I want to believe we can catch these guys, that it’ll make a difference.”

“It will,” she says firmly. “It makes a difference, Javier.”

He wanders out of the stack and leans against the table, which is bowing with the weight of evidence boxes. He lights a cigarette. “It’s just the job. Most days, we can’t even get close enough to chase a guy down, and when we can, he usually gets away. There’s corruption fuckin’ everywhere, and I don’t know who to trust half the time.”

Her eyes travel across the stacks. “Do you remember the day you caught those men out of the café? You knew exactly what to do.” When her eyes meet his again, her pupils are darkening her irises. “You took charge. You caught them. It made a difference to me.”

He notes the change in her. He puffs out more smoke and gathers her in his arms, hands around her hips, squeezing her ass. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says softly, tracing his jaw with her finger. “It was the first time I imagined you fucking me senseless.”

Jesus Christ. Javier’s fingers dig hard into her ass and he pulls her closer. “That right, baby?”

“Mmm. Pictured you just taking me, bending me over, using me how you want.” She smiles and the innocence of it confounds him. His cock stirs in his jeans and she stands so her thigh is wedged between his legs. “You want to solve the problems of the world, vaquero, but sometimes you have to let yourself go. Let yourself feel.” Her lips brush his, hardly a kiss, and he chases her when she pulls away. “Do you want that?”

Javier breathes in sharply through his nose. “I want it bad, cielito. You sure?”

She inhales the smoke from his cigarette and blows it back in his face, her pretty lips pursed. “I want you to fuck me hard, Agent Peña.”

In a flash, he turns them around and bends her over the empty space on the table. He nearly bites through his cigarette when he shoves down her long skirt and finds no panties to remove. Just her pussy, already glistening. “You plan this, baby?”

“Didn’t think it would take this long.” She wiggles her ass against him and he grunts, pushing her down at the small of her back. He hastily unbuckles his belt and pushes his jeans down just far enough to pull out his hard cock.

“Tell me if it’s too much, cielito.” He caresses her back as he presses his tip at her entrance and she keens, her ass pushing backward. Javier hisses. “Fuck. Behave. You hear me?”

“Yes,” she whines. “Yes. Please—”

He’s inside her in one hard thrust. She’s so wet it squelches around his cock when he makes his way in until he bottoms out and smacks the side of her thigh. “Shit, honey.”

Her panting moans get him even harder, more desperate. She wants him to use her? He’s going to fucking use her.

He’s shoving deep inside her at a rapid pace, his fingers bruising her hips as he fucks her from behind. The table shifts and boxes slide, files fall, while she moans and arches her back and cries out, “Yes, yes, oh, fuck—”

He knows there isn't another soul who can hear them all the way down here, but she clenches around him when he reaches around her and places his palm over her mouth. “Gotta be quiet, cielito. Want them to hear you?”

And she, the fucking fox she is, nods behind his hand. “Mmmhmm,” she groans.

He grinds deep, hips pushing against her ass, and she makes a strangled noise. Javier uses his leverage on her to lift her upper half up off the table and press her against his chest. Her moan is so sweet that it catalyses the tell-tale tightness in his core, and he uses the new angle to get even deeper, brushing up against the spot he knows will make her come. She's almost there, grabbing behind her at his arms, his hips, her thighs trembling. His hand slips down to her throat, holding it gently to keep her flush against him. “Javi—Javi—I can’t, oh, I can’t…”

“You fuckin’ can,” he says around his cigarette, hips snapping, keeping rhythm, driving hard and fast into her tight pussy. She clenches and he feels her body stiffen. “There it is, baby.”

To her credit, she tries to be quiet. Her stifled, swallowed scream as she clamps down around him, so tight he can't move, makes it hard for Javier not to come right then and there. But he manages to work her through it, thrusting at a steady rhythm while she shakes, whimpers, and holds onto his wrist. “Come, Javi,” she whispers, her voice raw. “You can come, honey.”

When he does, he fucking comes. He can't hold them both up any longer, so he lets her fall back to the table and covers her body with his, holding onto her hips to keep her impaled on his cock while he comes, spilling into her with a series of groans. She helps him through it, too, squeezing and rocking gently back on him. She's eager, like last time, trying to pull every drop from him even as she cries out from the overstimulation. It makes him twitch in her, how much she loves him inside her. He loves being inside her, for Christ’s sake.

Chuckling around the nub of his cigarette, Javier rubs his hands up and down her sides as they both come down. “Easy, baby.”

“Feels so good,” she says, muffled by the table against her cheek.

He pulls out and watches his cum drop out of her onto the floor, and he sucks in a breath. “Jesus.” Javier helps her turn around and stand up, putting out his cigarette. “Did I hurt you?”

She bites her lip when she sees the mess he made of her pussy. “Wouldn't complain if you had,” she says. “Besides, I’m numb all over.” She staggers up onto her toes and kisses him deeply. “Feel better?”

“Much”��he brings his fingers down to her cunt and pushes his cum back inside—“better.”

She gasps and holds onto his shoulders. “I don’t have any panties. You’ll drip out of me all afternoon.”

“You see me complaining?” He kisses her again. “Thank you, baby.”

She beams up at him. “I hope you didn't come in here so we could actually look at evidence.”

He shakes his head. “Won't risk getting you in trouble.”

Her eyes shine with mischief. “Shit,” she says. “I should've told you by now. I’m really accident-prone.”

“I know, honey,” he says. “Look at who you married.”

She smacks him on the chest. “Let’s get out of here before you tell me there are security cameras.”

He’s bored out of his mind today until the phone rings. Murphy’s out doing surveillance on their latest narco hideout, which is probably another dead lead. It means Javier doesn't have to be part of the disappointment, but he would kill for some excitement. He's looked over the same file for the past hour, and the drone of noise in the bullpen is only distracting him. He picks up his ringing phone before the first ring echoes out.

"Peña."

"Javi." It's her soft, sweet voice, and she sounds shaken. Javier bolts upright.

"Hey. You okay, baby?"

"Somebody broke in."

Panic lances through him. “Are you inside?”

“No. No. I got home and… and the door was open. My shit is—it’s everywhere."

Javier's already putting on his jacket, the telephone wedged between his ear and shoulder. "Did you phone the police?"

"Yeah, I did. They're coming. I wanted to call you."

"Good. Good girl. I'm on my way," he says. "I want you to stay outside your apartment. There may still be people inside."

"I won’t go inside," she says. "Don't leave work for me, Javi. I know we have plans tonight, but I don't think I can... now that—"

"I'll be there soon." He hangs up the phone.

He is there soon. Soon enough to pull up just behind the approaching police vehicles. He races up the staircase until he's on her floor. She paces back and forth in the hallway in front of her door, the telephone cord wrapped around the doorway from inside as she clutches the device to her chest.

He hugs her around the phone. She can't get her arms around him, but she presses her face into his chest. "Didn't have to come," she mumbles.

"Yeah, I did." He looks right into her eyes, brushing a knuckle over her chin. "Someone's got it in for you, huh?"

She huffs, but doesn't have the chance to respond since the police are approaching. Javier stands just behind her as she explains to them the situation: her lock was broken, her door ajar, and the inside of the apartment turned upside-down. Someone looking for something. Not her—Javier thanks God—judging from the fact her shit has been thrown around the room. The police take her statement and head inside in front of her, guns drawn.

She moves to cross through the doorway, but Javier puts his hand across her like a seatbelt. "Javi," she says. "There's nobody inside."

"You know that?" He lifts a brow. "You got x-ray vision, baby?"

"Why would they stick around if they aren't looking for me?"

Javier cocks his head. "They could be looking for—"

"GET DOWN!" comes a cry from inside. The splatter of gunshots are pounding his skull even before Javier has time to pull her away from the doorway and shove them both to the floor.

He covers her body with his while her arms fly up to shelter her head. Bullets pepper the walls. Men shout orders; footsteps pound for cover. Little panicked cries come from her mouth, but Javier keeps holding on tight, keeping her low.

When the shots stop, she's trembling. Javier lifts the canopy of his body off her and draws his own gun. “It’s over," he says, offering his hand. She takes it and he pulls her up against him. He does a fast sweep of her and sees no immediate injuries, so he sweeps the room and enters her apartment.

Three policemen entered, but there are six men on the floor, dead. Bleeding from heads, chests, legs, throats. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, God... Javi..."

"Stay by the door. Don't look. Shit..." He's checking pulses with one hand, holding his gun in the other. Nobody is alive. "Puta."

Behind him, her voice is small. "They wanted cops."

Javier checks the bathroom, then swats aside the curtains to spy on the road below. It seems all the men who came for the police are dead. And they've done their job.

Javier doesn't mourn too long. A couple dead policemen is nothing new to him, heartless son of a bitch he is. No, that's not what gets him riled, gets his blood simmering.

These men didn't think twice about putting her in the crossfire.

He's breathing heavily when he gets back to her. Like she knows exactly why he's so fucking angry, her hand comes up to squeeze his arm. "I'm all right," she says. "I'm not hurt."

Despite his reddening vision, he squeezes his eyes shut and kisses her temple. "You're okay," he says, mainly to himself, smoothing down her hair and grabbing a handful of it just to feel its softness. She cups his face and turns it to face her.

"I'm okay."

"Stay with me tonight," he says.

"I'm sure as hell not staying here," she replies. "What… what do we do about this?"

“I’ll tell the police they’ve got narcos baiting and killing them. Someone will come and take these guys away. I’ll make sure they know whose place this went down at.”

Javier pinches the bridge of his nose, but she smacks his hand away and smooths his brow over with her thumb. “You sure you won’t get sick of me?”

“Never, baby.” He presses another kiss to the top of her head. “We’ll come back for your things.”

He drives her to his place and white-knuckles the steering wheel the whole way, still struggling to blink the red from his vision. When she looks over at him, she takes one of his hands and laces their fingers together. It helps him focus on just getting her somewhere safe. They ride the rest of the way in silence.

He does a triple-take around the perimeter of his place when they arrive, then leads her in with his hand at her back. He wants her body against him all the time when he's as riled up as he is.

“Javi, I can sleep on the—”

“Don't say 'couch,' cielito.” He walks right up to her and flicks her gently on the nose. "Keep that word safe in your mouth. You're sleeping with me." Their noses touch, and he nudges her chin upward so their mouths are millimetres apart. "Not letting you out of my fuckin' sight. Yeah?"

His cock stirs when she looks up at him, wide-eyed, and nods like she's hypnotised. "Yeah," she sighs. "But no funny business."

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Javier slides his hand around her waist. “You sure you’re okay?”

She nods. “Just shaken. But I guess you deal with shit like that every day.”

“Doesn't mean you should get used to it.”

“I won’t,” she says. “I don't want to. There are dead people in my fucking apartment, for Christ’s sake. Am I a terrible person for just being relieved one of them wasn't you?”

“We take the wins we can get,” he says. “Does it really scare you that much, baby?”

She huffs. “Are you serious? Every time you leave the café for work, I worry they'll show your body on the news. I’m terrified for your life all the fucking time, Javier. It’s something I don't know how to deal with.”

He feels a frown pulling his brows down. It's hard not to imagine himself in the same situation: hearing her name on the news after a shootout, a victim caught between two sides. Breaking down a door only to find she's there, somehow, dead and tied up. Being too late.

The fear creeps up on him. She’s not weak, but she is vulnerable. Today, the danger came to her own home. He's made sure that nobody knows who she is, what she is to him, but she could have died despite all of that.

“Javier.”

He grunts, grinding his teeth for a cigarette.

She unbuttons the first hole in his polo and slides her hands up around his neck. “You know I’m okay, right?” she says softly. “You kept me safe. Those reflexes of yours.”

He caresses her arms, not meeting her eyes, frowning at the smooth skin he's touching. “If I’d been a minute later—”

“Javier.” He shuts up when she sinks to her knees. “You were right”—her finger traces the button of his jeans before she pops it open—“on”—she squeezes his thigh as she urges his pants down and takes his half-hard cock in her hand—“time.”

He thinks he’s gone blind with desire. He reaches out without thinking and cups her chin. “Amor,” he says gruffly.

“Yes?” She looks up at him with round eyes, pumping him gently in her hand. Not that he needs it; he's so hard by now that the head is leaking precum. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No… Mierda.” He watches her spit on his cock and his eyes almost cross. “Christ. You look so good like this, baby.”

She hums when she brings her mouth to him and licks the tip. He keeps his hand in her hair, just to hold on, letting her take what she wants of him. Jolts of pleasure shoot up his spine with each lick, her hand shifting to gently squeeze his balls when she finally takes him into her mouth.

His head falls back when he’s halfway inside her hot, wet mouth. But she keeps taking him deeper, swallowing around him and drooling as she bobs her head. He's so close it's embarrassing, gripping her hair tighter and enjoying the vibration of her moan around his length. He tries to pull out of her mouth when she chokes, but she grounds him, squeezing his thigh and keeping her eyes locked on his.

She’s so beautiful it aches; he's mesmerised by the sight of her like this, debauched and wanting him badly enough to get on her knees for it.

She reaches around him and squeezes his ass, which makes him twitch in her mouth despite grumbling at her. “Smartass even when my cock’s down your fuckin’ throat, huh, baby?”

She responds by swallowing around him, choking some more, and he swears, hips bucking instinctively.

“Gonna—fuck. Fuck!” He’s louder than usual when he comes, letting out a long groan when her throat tightens around his cock. She holds onto his thighs for support (his and her own), audibly swallowing every drop of cum that he spills on her tongue. When it becomes too much, too good, he pulls out of her mouth and watches a dribble of cum spill down her lip, her chin. She swipes it off with her thumb and licks it up, opening her mouth to show him that she swallowed everything he gave her. It's nearly enough to make him keep her there and fuck her mouth all over again.

He helps her to her feet and kisses her hard. “So fuckin’ good to me.”

“See?” She pushes his hair away from his face. “We’re alive. We're safe. And you’ve got me.”

He does. He's finally got her: the brightest, shiniest fucking treasure in the world. Javier kisses her all the way into the kitchen and they make dinner together. When he wakes up in the morning, her naked body is tangled with his.

He doesn't deserve this peace, but he’ll take it.

He drives her to the café every morning.

She pours his coffee while he sits at the counter and smokes. “Sure you want another cup?” she says. He had one before they left this morning.

“You kept me awake all night, cariño. I think I deserve another cup.”

Two weeks later, she’s still living with him while the police and the DEA try to track down the intruders. They've confirmed it was narcos who raided her home, thanks to radio logs—they haven't gotten much farther than that. Despite any moral hangups, Javier is somewhat glad they're stuck. It means she's with him, safe, sleeping in his bed every night and not worrying about her broken locks or the bloodstains on her rug.

She openly stares him up and down, eyes lingering on his torso. Javier burns under her gaze. “What?”

She shakes her head and looks down. “Nothing.”

Javier tilts his head to meet her eyes. “Cielito.”

“It’s just…” She bites down on her laugh. “Your shirt. Javi, it's like you never left the seventies.”

He's affronted. “What…” It's a white polo with black squiggly lines and dots. “You've never mentioned anything about my shirts.”

“Honey, I see you in suits most of the time.” She shrugs, heading to the wall to refill the coffee pot.

He and Murphy are meeting Carillo, so he doesn't need a suit. He won't let her distract him. “What's wrong with my shirts?”

“Amor.” She brushes a knuckle over his chin. “If any other man wore that shirt, he would look like an idiot. It just confounds me.” Her frown is playful. “How you can manage to look good in that.”

“Pot, kettle,” he grumbles around his cigarette, even though he's flustered by her attention. “You'd look fuckin’ beautiful in a flour sack.”

“Grumpy,” she teases, sliding around the counter to tend to her other customers with the coffee pot in hand. He pinches her ass when she walks by and watches her cheeks flush, putting on his sunglasses so he can stare shamelessly while she makes her rounds.

He enjoys watching her work. How she moves so gracefully around her tables, how she smiles at everything and engages with her patrons, the way she jokes with them like they're longtime friends. The way she gets them talking to other people at different tables, a close-knit community.

The bell above the door chimes, knocking Javier out of his trance. It’s almost time for him to go. He pays her with a double tip, like he always does, and downs the rest of his coffee. She makes her way back to the counter and smiles up at him. “Time to go?”

“Time to go.” He wants to kiss her. “Have a good day, baby. Got your key?”

She hums. “I don't forget my things like you can, viejo.”

He blows his smoke out the corner of his mouth and sniffs. “Yeah? Maybe I’ll stuff that mouth when I get home.”

Her grin only widens. “Promises.”

He leaves feeling warm and sated. Calling his place home, for the both of them, doesn't feel wrong.

When he comes home, Javier is tense, slamming doors a little harder than necessary. When he remembers she's in his home, that she probably had a whole marriage’s worth of slamming doors, he starts to ease the one to the apartment shut. But he still lights a cigarette and tosses his jacket haphazardly on the hook. “¿Cariño?”

“Estoy en la cocina (I’m in the kitchen),” comes her muffled voice. Javier rushes to find her and presses himself up against her, squeezing her ass like it's a stress ball, feeling his bones melt already.

“Huele bien (smells good),” he mutters into her neck.

She hums, stirring a pot of garlic soup on the stove. “Rough day?”

“Better now.” He's still grumbling like a real viejo, but her warm body makes his anger simmer down. “Fuckin’ work. Fuckin’... fuckin’ people. Malparidos.”

She turns in his arms and cradles his face. He leans into her touch when she smooths out the harsh frown in his brow. “Guapo,” she says softly, memorising his face with her fingers. “Tu eres muy fuerte. Eres muy inteligente (You're so strong. So smart). Hate to see you beat up like this. What happened?”

What didn’t happen? “Jaramillo locked down a fucking room full of the best evidence we’ve ever seen. I had Murphy stuff some down his pants.”

She rears back slightly and stares for a moment. “But didn’t you give him all that money and—down his pants? Javi.”

Her voice gently scolds him, but he’s rubbing his hands up and down her arms, soothing her worries. He’s not agitated anymore now that he’s touching her; it’s like he’s inadvertently passed it onto her. “He didn’t get caught, baby. Helped us find someone.” He kisses her cheek and she sighs, a small laugh leaving her when his moustache tickles her ear. “They don’t search gringos, remember?”

“Well, it’s a shame this someone can’t join us for dinner, because I’ve made way too much soup for two people.” She nudges her nose against his. “Sit. Eat.”

“Sí, señora.” He kisses her before he moves to the dining table, but a knock at the door prevents him from sitting down, let alone relaxing. At the stove, pouring soup into bowls, she turns her head and frowns at him. Javier presses a finger to his lips and stalks silently around the corner to the front door. His heart rate has kicked up by the time he’s pressed himself up against the wall next to the knob. Very few know Javier’s address except for himself, her, the people who gave him the place, and—

“What the fuck, Murphy,” he grunts when he spots who’s standing in the hallway. He opens the door and ushers Steve inside. “What the hell, man?”

“Yeah, good to see you too,” says Murphy, slapping a manila folder against Javier’s chest. “Took a call on your phone about twenty minutes ago.”

“That so?” Javier takes the folder. “Anything exciting?”

“Look at it and you’ll know,” he replies. “You wanted to know who fucked up your girl’s place? There they are.”

Javier opens the folder so fast he rips it an inch down the middle. It’s stuffed with files on the deceased assholes who targeted her home two weeks ago. “Shit,” he says, staring at their mugshots. “They all here?”

“Them, and a couple not-dead guys who work with them,” says Steve. “I’ll let you guess who the big boss is.”

Javier grinds his teeth as the anger rises. “Yeah. I can take a fuckin’ guess.” He looks at Steve and nods. “Thanks, man. This is good.”

“She still livin’ with you?”

He knows Murphy by now. He’s to-the-point, not accusing him of anything. “Yeah. Her place isn’t safe.”

“Right. And you finally had sex?”

His forthright attitude isn’t always pleasant. Javier huffs. “That your business?”

“Considering I had to put up with you when you weren’t getting any, yeah. Anyway, I can tell.”

“How?”

Murphy snorts. “You’re glowing.”

“Fuck you, Murphy.”

He looks down the hallway and Javier follows his gaze. She’s standing there, sheepish, leaning against the wall. “Hi,” she says. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

Murphy’s eyes flit from her, to Javier, then back to her again. Whatever he wants to say, he swallows. “Hey, sweetheart. Rough couple weeks?”

She shrugs. “Accident-prone,” she says as a way of explanation.

Murphy hums. “I was referring to living with this asshole.”

“Malo,” mutters Javier, but she just smiles wryly.

“Oh, that. Thank God someone else understands.” She takes a step closer. “I never got to thank you for the first time you saved my ass.”

It’s Murphy’s turn to shrug. “Not losing any sleep over gettin’ you away from that asshole,” he says. Javier agrees. However often he likes to bust the hillbilly’s balls, he’s grateful for Steve helping her find Javier the night her husband accosted her.

Her eyes slide to Javier, a question in them. An invitation. Javier claps Murphy on the shoulder. “Stay for dinner, man.”

“Please,” she says. “I made plenty, and you must be hungry.”

Murphy acquiesces, but only because his wife is working a double at the hospital. It’s awkward at first, having him in Javier’s home, his space, which he’s only used to sharing with her. But she opens Steve up the way she does all her patrons, making him laugh and joining in on cajoling Javier whenever the opportunity arises. She holds his hand when she does it and only begins kissing him when he kisses her first, not wanting to cross any lines with his partner around. They eat until the pot of soup is empty, and they’re all full, and when Murphy leaves, Javier is eager to fuck her into the mattress.

He’ll look into the file in the morning. He just wants to feel her.

They find all but two of the narcos in the file. They’re hanging upside-down in a warehouse basement. Javier elects to participate in the interrogation before Carrillo takes over.

He makes sure they feel twice the terror she felt.

It wasn't personal, one of them tries to spit out through a mouthful of his own blood.

You made it fucking personal, says Javier, grabbing hold of the man’s hair and yanking his head back so he can look right into the burst blood vessels in his eyes. You and your boss.

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