unicornia

Desperation - @theywhowriteandknowthings

Dollhouse, Broken Sleep & Wonderful Tonight Featuring Frankie Morales - @psychedelic-ink

Bound For Carnage Series - @psychedelic-ink

Scotch & Cherry - @ghostfanwriter Tutor!Reader

I Can Barely Breathe, True North & Anchor - @yespolkadotkitty

My Girl Featuring Frankie Morales, Your Taste I Crave, Sharpshooter, Kinktober 22 Lactation & After Hours - @foli-vora

Just A Piece - @palioom

The Cabin In The Woods Part 1, Part 2 & Part 3 - @xdaddysprincessxx Dark!Dead Dove

Dave York Masterlist - @absurdthirst So many good ones on there!

Isn't She A Doll? - @proxima-writes

Three Days - @massivedreamer CartelBossF!Reader

Revenge, Stupid Little Heart & Drabble 1 - @toomanystoriessolittletime

Amarum & A Healing Touch - @juletheghoul

Red & Unholy Series - @alwaysdjarin

Summer Schooled Series Featuring Joel Miller, You Say Hate But I Think You Mean The Other Thing Series & Dave Masterlist - @boliv-jenta

My Best Friend's Dad Series & Dave York Masterlist - @whiskeynwriting

The Senator's Daughter Series - @detectivecarisi-1 Bodyguard!Dave

The Secrets We Keep - @wildemaven

The Violence Of You, Dark!Dave Ropes, Reckless, Pitch Black Series Blind!OFC, Stay With Me, Intimidation Tactics Series Featuring Marcus Pike & Special Virgin!Reader - @whataperfectwasteoftime

A Valentine's In Reverse - @littlebirdsbookshelf

1k Smut Sensation Thigh Riding - @thetriumphantpanda

Antagonists - @getitoutofmymindwrites

Thirteen Days Series - @josephquinnswhore

Two For One - @suzdin Featuring Max Phillips

Drown In Your Wrath & Fury & You Made Me A Villain - @movievillainess721

Appreciation Series F!Nanny Reader, The Storm, Religious Corruption Series Virgin!Reader, Silent, This Is Me Trying Series Surgeon!Dave, & A Little Taste - @pedropascalsx

The Good, The Bad & The Naughty, Attending Mr York Series, One Week With Dave York Series, & Cherry Kisses - @popcornforone

Precious Possessions Series - @exquisiteserotonin

Emptiness - @deadhumourist SoftDom!Dave

Desires & Complications Series - @ezrasbirdie Featuring Marcus Pike

Notes On Tutoring Series - @honestly-shite Music College AU

Assistance - @adancedivasmom

Mine - @theewokingdead F!NannyReader

Needs & Wants - @thefloorisbalaclava

Interrogation - @secretwriterpp Dark/Violence Featuring Frankie Morales

Yours, Rulebreaker, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) & Temptation - @wheresarizona

Eres Mia Series - @loslentesdepedrito Featuring Marcus Pike

Kinktober Day 4 Breath Play - @moralesispunk

Satisfy Me - @whiskeyncoke-redux

Desired Punishment Series Dark!Dave & Office Rendezvous - @coastielaceispunk

Burnt Honey - @pedrito-friskito

Risk - @katareyoudrilling

Larks & Katydids - @kiwisbell AO3 Link

Daddy Dave Masterlist - @pintsizemama

Volatile - @javier-pena

Dave Request - @radiowallet

Façade - @furious-rogue-stuff

Killer Writing Series - @wardenparker

“Steven—“

“I’m sorry.”

He blurts out the words as he stares at you, his eyes big and regretful.

“I’m so sorry for not supporting you more,” he continues, putting down the spoon. “And for not taking more of an interest in your hobby. It clearly means so much to you and I… I know I was a dickhead.”

“If you’re waiting for me to disagree it’s not going to happen.”

Steve chuckles, huffing.

“It’s more than a hobby, Steve,” you tell him. “In an ideal world where money wouldn’t be a thing, this would be my dream job. I’d do nothing else but write, travel and eat food all over the world. It’s why I took a job at the library. It’s the closest I’ll ever be to achieving that dream.”

“That makes me sad.”

“Made me sad too. But this is reality, and denying it won’t do me any favors.”

“You were always so much more mature and rational than me.”

Surprised, you make a face at him, unable to contain yourself. You’ve never heard such words from your brother.

“Me?” you say with a light chuckle escaping from your lips. “The eternal dreamer?”

“Yeah. Sure, you like to picture fictional worlds and get lost in them but you never lose sense of reality. You’re neither optimistic nor pessimistic. You just… live in the now.”

“You know… I’m actually really close to getting my own book published.”

Steve’s eyes widen further, his face revealing nothing but sheer excitement at this point, and the sight softens you; so much so that you smile involuntarily, rather flustered to finally share this news with him.

“That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you!” he nearly shouts.

“Thanks, thanks. You’re the third person I tell this to.”

“Third?”

“Javier and Sylvie know.”

“Oh. I see. Is it based on Star Wars? Or inspired by it?”

You frown. “No, you doofus, it’s my own story. If I were to publish a fanfiction for Star Wars, I’d definitely get sued by George Lucas.”

“Kind of defeats the point of writing it, doesn’t it?”

As happy as you felt a minute ago, you feel just as dumbfounded now.

“The point, again, is creativity,” you reply. “You start from there and you build towards your own independent stories.”

“Isn’t it a waste of time? I mean why not start right at—“

“Oh my God! You’ve been this way since we were kids. You always thought you’re superior, whether you realized it or not.”

“I didn’t. And I didn’t mean to insult—“

“You never mean to and yet you still do.”

Steve watches you stand up, hands on your hips and munching on your lower lip in what can only be described as anger finally bubbling up at the surface.

“Mom and dad always sung your praises because you chose to do things logically and fit into society while I was a bitter disappointment for spending time alone in my room, reading and writing,” you say. “You finished high school and went straight to the Academy and mom and dad couldn’t have been prouder. Me? I finished high school and went to study literature in college and it still wasn’t good enough.”

“Nobody ever said that, you know it’s not true.”

“They didn’t have to say it. I could see it in their eyes, the way they spoke. I was the weirdo who needed a social life while you were their beloved Steven, making his way into the real world at such a young age, being so brave. Mom and dad never stopped thinking there’s something wrong with me and they didn’t hesitate in telling me that with every chance they got. Passive aggressively but still.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know. I know that now. It took years of therapy to realize that.”

Steve watches you closely, filled with unrelenting guilt. He’s never seen you this decisive and mad, but he knows deep down he’s had it coming. All of the things he wished for your relationship are slowly going down the drain and he begins to fear that if he doesn’t say the right thing now and try his hardest to be here for you, he will lose you forever.

“I never meant to treat you any way other than with respect,” he says, his voice oddly hoarse. “I know I’m pushing things a lot of the time and I exaggerate and I have no right to intervene in your personal life, but it only comes from a place of needing to protect you.”

“I can protect myself, Steven.”

He huffs, grabbing your wrist and thus urging you to sit back down. “Do you remember in seventh grade when that group of idiots picked on you while you were reading on the playground? It rained heavily the day before and they snatched the book from your hands and threw it into a puddle, ruining it.”

“Yeah, I—I remember.”

“And then you told me that one of them, the bigger one, came onto you that same afternoon and forcefully kissed you. I had him suspended.”

“What—how?”

“I may have… broke his nose and threatened him to worse if he didn’t go to the principal’s office to confess to both forcing himself onto you and to bullying you.”

“Oh my—you never told me that.”

Steve shrugs. “Pretty sure that was the moment I started to be mindful of the guys that were around you. And when you got annoyed and purposely started dating the worst guys you could find, things have gotten wild.”

“You can say that again.”

You both chuckle.

“You know, the fact that you confided in Javi about your book before me or Connie is a bit hurtful,” Steve admits.

“Do you know why I told Javier first? Even before Sylvie? Because he asked me. It’s that simple. He took an interest in my passion and he actually cared about it. Hell, he turned my Star Wars story into a real book. He made it into a book just for me because he knows how much it means to me, and how much writing means to me.”

“He what?”

You nod. “Yeah. He didn’t mock me, he didn’t assume he knows better than me. He even encouraged me to keep going, which is how I’m close to finishing the editing part of my book faster than I anticipated. And this from a guy who was a complete stranger to me three months ago. You keep saying that Javier is your best friend but you don’t seem to treat him that way. You treat him like he’s bad news, like you didn’t go through all that shit together in Colombia. You need to get your shit together. Javier is a really good man. A good friend, and an overall good person.”

“I know he is, I’m just worried about him too like I’m worried about you. He hasn’t been the same since we came back from Colombia. It changed him in ways that I… I don’t know. I have Connie and Olivia and I feel so lucky but… he keeps to himself. He barely allows anyone in so I don’t know what it’s like inside his head. I was just so worried that you’d both rush into something you might not be ready for and end up hurting each other.”

You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath for quite some time, but you certainly hadn’t felt the need to breathe, not in this moment when years of anger and misunderstandings culminate in the most honest sentences either of you have ever spoken to each other.

“Even if we did rush into a relationship or casual dating or whatever, it still wouldn’t be your call to make,” you remind him. “It’s not your decision, it’s mine and his. We’re both adults, tip-toeing around each other and around you because you have this weird protection fetish.”

“It’s not—“

“You know what I meant.”

“I—I’m really sorry, sis. I just wanted us to be closer. I went the wrong way about it, I know that.”

“You did. Trying to intimidate your best friend and controlling whoever your baby sister is around is not the way to go about this. You pulled the same shit in high school and look how that turned out.”

“I was worried about you, about both of you.”

“And you had reasons to, I’ll give you that. But now there is none. I’m okay. And Javier can talk if he feels like it.”

“You don’t know him the way I do.”

“Maybe not. But you don’t know him like I do, either.”

Steve calls out your name once you get ready to leave.

“Whom I date is none of your business,” you retort. “Not even if that someone was your best friend. Which is not. So cut it out already and get your shit together. If you can’t accept this, then leave me the hell alone.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate it. And I appreciate what you did for me that time in the seventh grade. I really do. But I need some time before I can truly forgive you.”

Javier hadn’t expected the erratic knock on the door at this hour, and he certainly hadn’t expected to be met with the sight in his doorway.

You look just as lovely as ever, though you do seem to be a little tense. He doesn’t ask; instead, he looks you over and welcomes you inside, waiting for you to offer some explanation for your late visit, already perilous enough as it is.

“I know it’s late, I’m sorry,” you coo. “I just—this was the first place I thought of. Didn’t wanna be alone in my apartment.”

“It’s okay. What happened?”

“Why do you assume something happened? Can’t a friend pay a visit to another friend?”

“They can, but not with that expression on their face.”

“What expression?”

“You look like you’ve been run over.”

You frown, distancing yourself from him even further.

“I’m your friend, I should be able to tell you this without a problem,” Javier adds.

“No, you sure can. Thank you for the fine observation.”

“Glad I could be of service. Do you want a drink?”

Say no, your mind screams at you, almost begs. You shouldn’t be drinking, not when you’re feeling vulnerable after the raw conversation you’ve had at long last with your brother, and certainly not around Javier.

It’s not that you don’t trust yourself. You know what you can and can’t handle.

You’re simply afraid the liquor might provide you with the courage to finally tell him exactly what’s on your mind, and that you might end up being rejected. Something tells you Javier might choose loyalty and rationality over his feelings.

He keeps to himself, Steve told you.

“Little bit of whiskey would be nice if you have it,” you eventually reply, catching both Javier and yourself off guard.

“Didn’t know you drink whiskey.”

“I don’t. Not really. Only when I need something really strong.”

“I take it the conversation with Steve didn’t go that well then.”

Fucking hell, how does he do this? How does he intuit things about you without you even saying or hinting them?

“It did. I think,” you smile as a glass of amber liquid is being handed to you. “We talked things through, I told him my piece… he apologized. And he meant it, I could tell.”

“He’s an honest guy, and he means well.”

“I know he does. He only ever wanted to be there for his baby sister and to be a good friend, but he’s taken things too far. Which he’s acknowledged.”

“Color me intrigued and shocked.”

You smile, hiding the gesture in the glass and stealing a glance at Javier. An unfamiliar warmth surrounds you, wraps you in a blanket of confusion and longing that you’re certain you haven’t felt up until now.

“So how come you ended up here then?”

“I don’t know. I just… stormed off, told him I appreciate his apology but I need some time before I can fully forgive him.”

“While we’re at it…” Javier clears his throat, lowering his now empty glass, “I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

“You didn’t cause this.”

“I feel like I kind of did mess things up though. I’m quite good at it.”

“Javier…”

“What?”

You lower your glass too, reaching out to take his hand which he hesitantly accepts. “You’re not a bad guy. In no way, shape or form. Trust me on this. I know them pretty well. And you don’t fit in that category.”

When you smile at him, so sincere and bright, Javier pulls back his hand, chugging the rest of whiskey and focusing solely on the way it burns his throat.

And yet when he thinks of the way his body feels when you’re around you, that all-too-familiar burn is nothing compared to it.

“If I wouldn’t have taken this job, maybe things wouldn’t have been this way between you and Steve,” Javier mutters.

“Things between me and Steve have been rocky for years. They would’ve probably continued to be tense if you hadn’t pushed us to talk. Involuntarily, of course. And besides, if you wouldn’t have taken the job… I wouldn’t have met you.”

“I don’t know anyone whose life was better for having known me.”

“There is someone I can think of.”

Javier briefly gazes at you and quickly wishes he’d evaporate. It feels too much, far too consuming to even maintain eye contact with you on account of all the fear, the impossible yearning, the confusion and the—

No. stop it. This is not that.

“Anyway,” you resume, feeling a bit short of breath yourself, “I don’t think Steve wanted me to meet you in the first place.”

“That kinda makes me wanna get back at him.”

“Me too. And you know what would show him?”

Javier raises his brow, already anticipating and dreading the answer before it ever leaves your mouth.

“If we hooked up,” you smile wickedly.

He cocks an eyebrow, his interest peaked and his stomach all twisted in knots. “That so?”

“Mhm. We could let him stew in doubt, let him guess.”

“How would we pull that off?”

“Well, since we already agreed actually doing it is out of the question, a light touch on the arm when we’re all together, gazing at each other from afar, smiling… a kiss on the cheek, stuff like that.”

Javier has no idea when he finds himself in your close proximity again. All he knows is that he’s sitting on the chair next to you, leaning in yet again, cursing his own inner demons for fighting a losing battle, and his breaths betraying his restlessness.

“The buildup to a kiss is the best part,” he coos, and you swear you shiver for a second. “One of them, anyway.”

“Is it though?”

“Yes. What kind of jackasses did you date in the past? Jesus Christ.”

“The worst I could find.”

Against his better judgment—if there was any of it left—Javier chuckles, forcing himself to look at you.

“The moment you look into each other’s eyes and lean in, that’s where it all starts. It’s simple but it’s really powerful stuff. Heart beats faster. Breaths get shallower. At some point your eyes sort of drift away to the other’s lips, wondering what they taste and feel like. And then, when you finally feel bold enough to lean in more…”

You close your eyes, Javier’s faintly whiskey-infused breath all warm and tingly over your lips, and you wait. What you receive in return is a phone ringing though, so you instantly pull away, opening your eyes again and noticing the same expression on Javier’s face as you assume is on yours: desperation.

“I—“he starts, but you shush him immediately.

“It’s okay.”

We shouldn’t anyway, you think.

“Hello?” Javier practically groans into the telephone. “Hey, Con.”

You turn towards him on instinct, curious about the subject matter between the two, though you shouldn’t be; you know exactly what this is about, and at this late hour nonetheless.

“No,” Javier answers in an unusually dark and steady voice, eyes locked on your figure. “She’s not here.”

You look at him, utterly taken aback, and you gulp.

“Have you at least heard from her?” Connie inquires at the other end, unbeknownst to you. “She had a talk or a fight or something with Steve and now he’s worried. He says he called her apartment, went there and there’s no answer. It’s a whole thing.”

“I haven’t heard from her.”

“Javi…”

“Look, Con, with all due respect and care, she’s a grown woman and Murphy needs to stop babying her. She’s perfectly capable of making her own choices and seems to me that right now she doesn’t want to be found. So whatever you think it is that I’m doing…”

“I’m not thinking anything. Should I?”

“We’re… friends.”

“Have you noticed that whenever you say that, the pause between ‘we’ and ‘friends’ gets bigger?”

Javier frowns and blinks several times in a row, dumbfounded. “What?”

“It started out as ‘oh, we’re friends’ but now it’s more along the lines of ‘oh. We’re… sigh… friends’.”

“I sound nothing like that.”

“Javi. Come on.”

“I told you, Con. She’s not here tonight. Wherever she is, I’m sure she’s fine. She just wants to be left alone for a bit.”

“Well if you hear from her—“

“Yeah. Goodnight, Connie.”

Javier hangs up, frozen in the same spot. He knows that now there is no going back and that he’s in deep shit, but truthfully he only gives a damn about your well-being.

Everything else is tomorrow’s problem.

“You lied,” you coo.

“Fine observation skills.”

“Thank you.”

Javier stares at the ground, processing his own words and thoughts. Ever since he left Colombia, he’s all but tried to always do the right thing, the honorable thing and be a respectable man in today’s society. Not the Javier that worked with one of the most gruesome groups in the world for the greater cause, not Javier that bent the American embassy’s rules to fit into his scenarios, but a new Javier that was good and learned from his mistakes.

And now, every time he looks at you, he feels himself falling deeper into temptation, on the verge of making another mistake. Only this one might not be so easy to fix.

“Don’t thank me,” he mutters, pacing around the living room. “It was stupid and selfish. Obviously Connie knows you’re here and Steve’s gonna know and the whole thing’s gonna blow up in my fucking face.”

You notice him purposely avoiding your eyes and you reckon by the edgy way he’s marching through the living room that there are dozens of things on his mind now, if not more.

“Javier.”

No answer, more pacing.

“Javier, look at me.”

Still no answer, slightly less pacing.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? A minute ago you couldn’t stop looking at me when we were about to—“

“We were about to do nothing.”

“Right. I just—“

Then, Javier turns to you so abruptly it startles you for a second. You watch him walk towards you with a look on his face that you can’t quite put together. But it doesn’t intimidate you, nor does it scare you. On the contrary: it rather makes you want to hold him and be with him.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he murmurs, his chocolate, soft eyes now glued to yours.

“I’m not—I’m not doing any—“

“No, you’re fucking consuming me. Eating me alive from inside out. And looking at you… whenever I look at you, I feel my promise to Steve break. I feel myself break, I feel… I feel the way I did back in Colombia, all fucked up and twisted and you don’t deserve that.”

“You never talk about it. Colombia.”

Javier purses his lips, holding his breath. “Sometimes it feels like I never left. Like it’s hell all around me. But then I think I can’t possibly be in hell cause you wouldn’t be there otherwise.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, your cheeks scorch with flattery and your body only craves more.

“Instead, you’re… here,” Javier continues, somewhat distraught. “You’re here and you’re… warm and fun and… alive. And your scent… I can’t get it out of my fucking head even if I know I should, I really should. Fucking… lavender, ruining me. And I just… I was hollow back there. I was dark and a jackass and… not as half as honorable as I thought I was, or that I’d be. I did shitty things, bad things. Colombia twisted me in ways I can’t revert. But I want to be better now, I want to be worthy, ironically because of you and for you. So looking at you feels like the most incredible thing in the world and the worst.”

You inch closer, breathless from the words that have been thrown at you, so raw and heartfelt.

“Did you ever kill a child?” you ask, and you can see the surprise on Javier’s face as the question is being processed by him.

“No.”

“A woman?”

“No.”

You nod once, slowly, inching even closer to him. “I thought we’re friends,” you whisper.

“We are, which is why I’m saying this with respect and care. Being your friend is killing me.”

“You said I’m not your type.”

“Apparently I was wrong. So very wrong. Apparently… you’re the very thing that I want. Pathetically desperate and… so fucking needy.”

Your skin is on fire by now, your throat dry and your mouth practically drooling.

“Javi,” you manage to get out.

“No, don’t—don’t do this to me right now.”

“Don’t do what? What are you—“

“Don’t say ‘Javi’, not like that.”

“How should I say it then?”

Javier’s eyes drop to your lips, and all of a sudden he’s unable to look elsewhere, consumed entirely by the unholiest thoughts he’s ever known.

“I got some ideas,” he whispers, his tongue wetting his lips.

“Mind sharing them with me?”

“I can’t.”

“But I want you to do this to me. There, verbal consent.”

Javier cocks his head to the side, thus exposing his neck and you’re feeling more parched than ever.

“The things I could do to you…” he mutters as if strictly to himself. “The things I could show you…”

“So show them to me. Show me… you.”

“Fuck, I want—“

“What do you want, Javi?”

The way you said his name, fully aware of the effect it has on him now and how much it messes with his mind, it makes Javier unable to think straight and certainly unable to resist you. In what can only be described as an act of insanity, Javier’s hand boldly rests on your waist, barely touching, and yet enough for both of you to feel the heat radiating from it.

“I want to do this right,” he says. “You’re not a random hookup. I—I wanna take you out to dinner, get to know you and be with you.”

“Dinner sounds nice.”

“Tomorrow night at seven?”

“Okay.”

In an even more insane act, you decide to move closer to him so that your lips press against his stubbled cheek. The touch is tentative, meant to be appreciative and thankful, but in the end, it only acts as a detonator to an already short enough fuse.

Before your brain properly understands what’s happening, you feel Javier sliding down your body until he kneels before you and wraps his arms around your legs and look up at you.

“Show me how to be good,” Javier mutters, and it shocks you to your core. “Show me how to be good, for you. Please.”

You open your mouth, and yet nothing comes out. Your mind must’ve short-circuited because no words come to mind except Sylvie’s from many weeks ago. 

Mark my words, this Javier is gonna be on his knees before you, asking you to teach him how to be good.

Then you’re gonna be in big trouble, missy.

Damn you, Sylvie.

Still tongue-tied, you place your index finger beneath Javier’s chin, thus signaling him to stand back up. He follows obediently, staring at you once more and waiting, his heart in his throat.

Finally, at long fucking last, with chills creeping up your spine, you cup Javier’s cheeks and press your lips against his.

And good lord, is this the softest kiss you’ve ever had in your entire life.

It’s languid, tentative at first, as if you’re both waiting for each other’s reaction to it, but within the following seconds, the kiss turns sloppy and heated, betraying your eagerness.

Javier’s hands wrap around your body expertly, and he hums into your mouth, the sound going straight into your cunt almost soaking you on the spot. This is the part of relationships he’s actually really good at, something he’s very confident in, so he wastes no time in guiding you to his bedroom, leaving a wet trail of kisses down on your neck as he plops you on the bed, him atop of you.

“If you want to stop, you gotta tell me now,” he warns, his voice as dark as his eyes. “I mean, we can stop at any point, but if you don’t—“

“I want this, Javier. I want you. I don’t want to stop.”

Javier groans, his mouth back on yours and seemingly devouring it whilst his hands roam nervously on your body. There’s dampness between your legs, and you have the urge to rub your legs together in an attempt to hide the slickness, but when you feel a calloused hand grabbing the back of your thigh, gently squeezing it, you part your legs as if to make enough room for him. And he does; Javier grinds between your legs, beginning to undress you with so much determination it’s causing your head to spin.

By the time you’re topless and writhing beneath him, you’re begging for him to touch you some more. You’re begging for his hands, his mouth, any part of him that he’s willing to give to you, and Javier obeys without a single objection in mind.

“Lift your hips for me,” he instructs, and you do as he says.

Your pants come off, then Javier’s eyes stop on your underwear, already eating you up with a single look.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” you hear him say, and you shiver.

It’s you who pulls him back in for a kiss, and it feels like the most maddening, enticing and damnable thing in the whole wide world. One of Javier’s hands reaches in between your legs, feeling the dampness soaking your panties, and you gasp. He massages your clit through the fabric, having you moan uncontrollably right in his mouth, more so when you’re completely bare, panties thrown carelessly to the side.

“On my face,” Javier manages to get out during the brief pause which he takes to undress himself.

“What?”

“Sit on my face. Right now. I wanna taste you.”

Your mouth ajar, you stare at him struggling to compose yourself but there is no possible scenario in which you can accomplish that successfully. Instead, your eye roam over his shirtless figure, the sight fueling your needs further.

“Will you let me taste you?”

“I—it’s just I’ve never—done that, really.”

Javier looks dumbfounded at you. “You never sat on a guy’s face?”

“No, some of them barely went down on me, so I—“

“Do you trust me?”

You nod.

“Then take a seat.”

Javier lies down on the bed, quickly disposing of his own pants in the process, and it’s only then that you notice how hard he is. It can’t be comfortable, and yet here he is, choosing to do something that’s aimed for your pleasure. Unless of course this gives him great pleasure as well, which you think it does, and that only makes things tougher.

You climb up his body, quivering when you feel his calloused hands kneading the flesh of your ass and thighs as you do so, and quickly try to figure out the logistics of the act. That is, until Javier loses patience and grabs your thighs, placing them on either sides of his face, and you nearly lose your goddamn mind at his first taste he takes of you.

You’re sitting all the way on his face, his nose nudging your clit and his tongue lapping at your folds, collecting every ounce of arousal he can get. It’s pleasure from an angle you didn’t even dream of, and Javier certainly knows his way around a woman’s body. You react out of impulse and grab a handful of his hair, tugging on it while Javier’s tongue splits you open.

“Oh—f-fuck—“

You’re stuttering, heart pounding in your ears and your whole body afire; so much so that you shake, and not out of pleasure—not yet. But the way Javier yaps at your pussy, you somehow know he’s gonna get you there soon.

Beneath you, Javier listens closely to all the sounds you let out for him; he takes the time to feel every portion of your skin, not just the way his mouth is buried in your pussy, and to say he’s in awe would be a crass understatement. When you start grinding on his mouth, your body’s natural reaction to the way ecstasy builds in your body, Javier can’t help his own body’s reaction to it. You don’t see his hand sneaking behind you to curl around his weeping cock, and even if you did, all you’d want would be to take him in your mouth instead, give him at least half the pleasure and happiness he’d been giving you all this time.

“Javi—“

“Mhmmm—sounds so fucking good when you say it like that.”

“J-Javi, please—“

“Shit I could drink from you—all day long.”

Too impatient, both of Javier’s hands go back to your ass, grabbing it so that you rock faster against his tongue, but you’re already moving out of your own accord in a desperate attempt to capture more of his mouth, to have that feeling that’s only bubbling in your belly explode into a thousand explosive flames.

“Need you to say it,” you hear him beg from between your legs. “Can you say it for me, hm? Ask me.”

“Please, Javi…”

“Say it.”

“Javi, I need—I need you. Need to… feel you.”

Then, it all seizes around you: your mind goes blank, your vision goes dark, nothing but stars all around you and unbearable heat bursting from beneath you and going up till your whole body is enveloped in it. Javier’s hands continue to explore your body, touching and caressing every inch of skin, his eyes never leaving your figure like he’s admiring the most precious work of art there is.

“So beautiful,” you see him murmur as you’re getting off him.

Javier licks his lips teasingly just as you lean down to kiss him again. You doubt you’d ever get enough of his mouth now that you’ve finally tasted it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. “And so tasty.”

You smile flustered, still unable to think of anything proper to say. Some words do come to mind, of course; thank you, I appreciate your friendship, I’m in love with you—

Oh no, not that one.

You begin to fear that the way you’re kissing him exposes the reality in your mind, the word you undeniably feel fluttering inside your chest, begging to be released, but you can’t. It’s far too soon and too hasty, so you keep them to yourself. As your bodies get entangled with one another and you find yourself beneath him once again, you abandon those words in a tiny box at the back of your mind, sealed.

 You find that once you keep your mouth shut, you can only gaze at Javier, and he at you. There’s nothing else to be said, not when your body’s being molded in such tender ways by Javier’s hands and mouth, praised for simply being here in between the sheets with him.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

“Can you please fuck me now? I think we’ve both waited enough.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

Javier reaches over, opening the nightstand and eventually rolling a condom onto his erection, lining up to your entrance. You can’t help but admire Javier, his eyes, his lips, his cheeks, his strong arms, his chest and his belly, the soft, dark curls at the base of his cock, the way his lower lip quivers when he’s overwhelmed.

“You’re so—“you gasp.

And the way he fills you to the brim in one languid, careful thrust is equal parts mesmerizing and enticing.

“So what?” Javier asks.

“So pretty.”

Javier stills for a moment, blinking in confusion. “No one’s said that to me before. I don’t… am I?”

You smile, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes. Very much so.”

Then Javier sinks into you, inch by delicious inch. You feel him pressing down onto you, completely undone and ravished, and keeps muttering into your ear little praises here and there. Your back arched, you take him and his words deep inside you, allowing Javier to consume you as much as he told you that you consume him.

And you have to admit, it is the most maddening sensation in the world.

He starts to move, a new urge overcoming him than when he’d been with women in the past. Being with you feels different because for the first time in so many years, he doesn’t want to rush; in spite of his neediness and almost two years of celibacy, now that he’s here, with you and inside of you, he wants to remain in this moment for as long as possible. He doesn’t have to rush, he realizes. There’s no bombs going off in the distance or shootings—most importantly, Colombia is not out there.

But you are here, soft and warm and kind and beautiful and Javier can barely breathe thinking about how much he adores you.

He wants to say the words, he feels them on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t want to scare you away. And he doesn’t want to rush things when this has the potential to be something so great.

His thrusts keep the same pace, though Javier feels like he could easily come at any given moment. Your tight, warm walls around him make him dizzy, utterly lost in that damned lavender scent and in your eyes and your smile. And your lips—oh God, he could kiss you all day and all night long. All the other times he’d abstained from kissing you, how close he was… how could he not have you that way?

“Javi…”

It’s all he hears, his name moaned from your perfect lips. All he knows now is you, the way you arch your back with each thrust of his, the way you gasp when his hand lays on your stomach and his thumb plays with your clit.

“I’ve thought about this, you and me… before,” you smile, cupping his cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I swore I’d never tell you. But now—“

“I thought about it too.”

“You—you did?”

Javier nods, leaning down to peck your lips, the gesture followed by an ecstatic smile.

“I shouldn’t have. I knew it was… it was wrong, it was dirty and cheap… I couldn’t stop. I—I tried, please believe me, I really tried, I—“

“Javi, shhh. I know you did. You were very honorable, and a great friend. Especially now, to me.”

You both smile against each other’s lips, Javier’s hips stuttering after a little while. He feels that familiar burn in his stomach, and that’s the only time he dares speed up, almost manically so. With a few grunts, Javier buries his head in the crook of your neck, cursing once in a while as his orgasm bubbled in his whole body. He needs to feel you pulse around him more than anything.

“I’m—shitshitshit—“

“It’s okay, come for me, Javi.”

“But I—“

“I’m close too.”

“Yeah?”

“S-So close… please…”

You don’t need to beg: you and Javier are right there, both tipping over the edge of sanity and falling right into the pit of passion and ecstasy. Javier grunts the loudest he ever had, spilling himself inside the condom and remaining still above you, the pleasure coursing through his veins overwhelming him completely. He looks down on you and sees your face scrunched up in the most adorable and alluring way and it dawns on him: it’s because of him. You came twice now, once in his mouth and once around his cock, gasping and moaning sweetly because of him. There’s a pride in his chest, pride and flattery, almost to an animalistic, primal degree.

When he pulls out, you feel empty and lonely, though the thought seems ridiculous because he’s right there still, isn’t he? You can’t help it—it’s like you want your bodies to remain united as one for as long as humanly possible.

“Oh, by the way,” Javier says, returning from the bathroom with a towel that he begins to press on your inner thighs and between them, “this is probably obvious, but we’re not telling your brother about this, right?”

You raise your eyebrows, bemused at his genuine question.

“I know we joked about it before, but… still.”

“Unless hell freezes over, no, we are not telling Steven shit.”

previous | next

* - Mature/Explicit work

Ezra

Dreams of Love by @tea-reads

Pero Tovar

* Collision (series) by @sirowsky-stories

* falling again (series) by @221bshrlocked

Jack Daniels

* You And I Were Fireworks by @stardustandskycrystals

* The Riding Lesson by @bluestar22x

Playing pretend by @bluebeary-jay

Joel Miller

Where might I be, if I were not here? by @jomiddlemarch

Because you saw me when I was invisible by @jomiddlemarch

It is love, not reason, that is stronger than death by @jomiddlemarch

on the cold earth under the cold sky by @jomiddlemarch

* angel of small death by @brewsterispunkk

One Kick by @nonexistent-introvert

* I can’t stop thinking about you. by @bellofthemeadow

Dieter Bravo

Closer Than Expected by @ghostofskywalker

Din Djarin

* cupid's chokehold by @deathwife

Dave York

* Three Days by @massivedreamer

Frankie Morales

Stood Up by @trulybetty

* Put Yourself in My Place by @alwaysbethewest

Always Here For You by @jwritesfanfics

Max Phillips

Javier tries to imagine a younger Steve being bossed around by his little sister and surprisingly, he has to suppress a chuckle. Quite a funny imagery, Javier decides as he roams around his kitchen at the crack of dawn, scrambling to make some toast and a cup of black coffee. It grows even funnier when he recalls Steve’s exact words about you: “growing up, even if she’s my little sister, she’s the one who bullied me”.

The smile that breaks from his lips remains amused for a little while as his dry breakfast is in the making. It only fades when his thoughts go into a rather surprising—and frankly forbidden area.

Though he begs his mind to oblige to basic commands and envision other things, Javier still falls victim to thoughts of you exchanging glares with so-called bad boys, batting your eyelashes at them and smiling, revealing enough cleavage only to tease, never to give the full taste.

And when he remembers that you live right below him, probably still asleep at this early hour, Javier clears his throat and takes the first bite of toast. He swallows with difficulty, even more so as he recalls the way your hand practically slid inside his pants, hectic and yet so calculated, with cat-like precision and without a care in the world as to how or if that may affect him.

Stop, he shushes his spinning mind.

He reckons this is happening because… well… it’s been a while. Fourteen months, to be exact. Last he shared some intimacy with someone was back in Cali with Gabriella, and it had been, as usual, something quick to take the edge off and satiate the body’s primal need, and they both called it a night. Then things went a bit south and next thing he knew, he packed up his things and returned to his pop’s ranch. And upon his pop’s repeated request, he spoke with Steve and they both agreed on taking this job in New York.

It’s unusual for Javier to be celibate for this long, but in the past year he’s come to realize that all of his encounters with women, while direct and straight to the point, have been meaningless—almost. It was never about having a relationship in the midst of a drug war; that much was clear from the get-go. And Javier never let any of the women he’d seen believe otherwise, less so himself. He wasn’t foolish enough to hope or even want a relationship, not after the things he’d seen and not after almost getting married for all the wrong reasons.

Almost. The word seems to haunt him as much as Colombia itself does.

He’s still not convinced he’d be a good partner to someone. So perhaps celibacy might be good for him. He could take this time to reflect more on himself and grow as a better man. He doesn’t really mind it, though.

When he’s getting in Steve’s car at 7 am sharp, he’s in a good, clear headspace. Especially because he’d hate to have his best friend know that he was thinking of his little sister less than an hour ago. Hell, even Javier doesn’t want to think about that.

But there’s no harm to wonder about someone, right? His thoughts hadn’t been depraved or resembling interest. He was simply being curious about who you are as a person.

“You doing okay today?” Steve asks.

“Peachy. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem kinda deep in thought.”

“Didn’t get enough sleep to be buried deep in thoughts.”

Steve chuckles, focused on the road. “How’s my sister doin’?”

“The fuck you askin’ me about your sister, how should I know?”

“I figured since you live in the same building you guys see each other on the daily.”

Javier immediately shakes his head, exhausted already from the conversation.

“Don’t do this, man,” he warns Steve. “Don’t even think about it.”

“About what? I didn’t insinuate anything.”

“You were about to. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. I got no plans to mess with your sister and she’s not even the kind of girl I’d date. I’m steering clear of her, and we both got lives of our own, different schedules.”

“It’s all cool. I just figured you spoke more with her.”

Javier frowns. “You haven’t talked to her lately?”

“No, no, we have. Just… I don’t know, I guess I just assumed things would naturally pick up between us.”

“It’s not gonna be magically okay between you two. It’s been years, and it takes effort and time. But I’m sure you’ll—patch things up.”

“Thanks, man. Sorry if I seemed suspicious.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

Steve falters and Javier does take notice, but he doesn’t give him a hard time about it.

“Speaking of patching things up… our apartment’s ready, so Connie suggested we invite you both to dinner.”

“Sounds nice. When?”

“How about tonight?”

“Uh—yeah, sure.”

“Can you tell my sister too? Since—you know, you live in the same—“

“Why don’t you tell her yourself? Just call her and invite her.”

As he glances to the driver’s seat, Javier finally notices how nervous his friend looks.

“Why are you nervous?” he asks Steve. “You’re siblings for fuck’s sake.”

To which his friend shrugs, letting a heavy sigh along with it. “I did some mistakes in the past trying to look after her and I… I want us to be friends again.”

“I don’t think removing any male presence from her life is the solution.”

“Probably isn’t, yeah.”

“Probably?”

Both burst into laughter right as Steve parks in front of the precinct.

“You know I don’t actually think all that shit about you,” he tells Javier. “That you’re a womanizer and you mess with every woman you meet. I know you never mistreated any of the girls you were seeing, in any sort of way, and I know you wouldn’t do that to my sister.”

“I wouldn’t. That is, you know, if I’d actually date your sister. Which I won’t.”

“Yeah I know, she’s far from the women you normally—see.”

Javier unknowingly holds his breath, then releases it slowly and steadily, as to not give away the fact that the mention of dating and you in the same sentence requires deep breaths. It shouldn’t, really, but somehow knowing that Steve kindly asked him to stay away from his flesh and blood…

Yeah, maybe some deep breaths are required in order to forget the fact that he thought of you bright and early this morning, handling him like he was nothing but a piece of clay.

But his thoughts weren’t depraved to begin with, so he’s safe. It was simple curiosity.

“So tonight, what time?” Javier inquires instead.

“Seven.”

“Alright.”

Javier gets through the day’s tasks with little to no exertion. He keeps quieter than usual, which luckily none of his colleagues or superiors notice because no one’s taking the time to know anyone personally, and today he is grateful for that.

So for the rest of the day he wonders about the kind of atmosphere that will await him once he sets foot inside Steve and Connie’s apartment. He knows them together and separately, and he vaguely knows you, but he has no clue what to expect from being under the same roof as the three of you. And frankly, he’s not really sure what to expect out of you, either. Probably just—the unexpected. He’s had a basic, mere taste of what you are like and you seem like a lot to handle. Combined with Steve’s obsessive need to be protective over you?

Yeah, tonight should be fun as hell.

He buys a bottle of white wine regardless and rings the door at the freshly renovated apartment at 7:07 p.m. Steve opens the door, smiling rather cordially than out of friendliness, so Javier’s eyes shot straight to Olivia cooing in his arms.

“Fair warning, Connie’s all wired because of tonight,” he mutters. “So if you hear some sharp commands… don’t question it.”

“It’s just a housewarming dinner.”

“Yeah… I wouldn’t tell that to her. Come on in.”

Javier stifles a mocking sound, so he playfully pinches Olivia’s little elbow instead, to which she giggles and hides in Steve’s shoulder.

“See? All the girls are into you,” Steve jokes.

“Come on, Murphy.”

“Just kidding!”

The smell of warm food swathes Javier, more so when he walks into the kitchen, cautiously looking around so as to not startle Connie. He notices her by the counter, frantically stirring something that looks like a salad.

“Smells delicious, Con.”

She turns almost violently fast, her face lighting up when she meets Javier’s benevolent face. Then she goes in for a hug, her eyes landing on the bottle of wine in his large hand.

“I’m so glad you made it!” she smiles. “And whoa, that is quite an expensive bottle of wine, isn’t it?”

“Uh—medium.”

“I hope lasagna is okay. Homemade from scratch—“

“Connie, relax. It smells delicious, and I bet it’ll be even more delicious.”

Connie’s smile widens and Javier can easily read relief on her face. “By the way, you know Steve’s sister is coming too, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Steve told me. Looking forward to the family dynamic you guys got going on. Sure that’ll be fun.”

Connie snorts. “Well. The Murphy siblings are quite something, let me tell you that. Their relationship has been rocky for years, since she went out to college, but Steve’s been trying to reconnect, and I think tonight can be a good step forward.”

“Kind of feels like I’m intruding then.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know we consider you part of our family. You’re Olivia’s uncle.”

“Well I’m his aunt, and I’m not sure I’m into whatever vibe’s been pushed onto the two of us then.”

Both Javier and Connie turn towards you, each smiling in your direction, though you sense warmth and love from your sister-in-law and nothing but mere politeness from Javier. Which makes sense, given how you’re practically strangers and you seem to have nothing in common.

“Hi,” you smile at him, too wide for Javier’s own taste.

“Hola señorita,” he nods.

You can’t help the sound that leaves your throat, a rather mocking sound. “Why do you do that?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“The thing where you greet me with your ‘come and get it’ voice, all sultry and in Spanish too. Do you greet all the ladies like that?”

Javier frowns. “I don’t have a ‘come and get’—what?”

But then he hears Connie’s stifled chuckle and he redirects his frown towards her.

“You do kind of have that voice that’s meant to be… persuasive with the ladies.”

“I don’t—shut up.”

He places the wine bottle on the countertop then settles in the living room. Not a moment too late, Steve makes his appearance, crashing on the couch next to him.

“Alright, Olivia should be down for a couple of hours at least, but that remains to be seen,” he jokes.

“Your sister’s a real tough nut.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me. What she do?”

“Said I have a ‘come and get it’ voice.”

Steve lets out a hearty laugh, a sound Javier hasn’t heard before. Though he doesn’t reciprocate and merely frowns in his friend’s direction, he can’t help but appreciate seeing him happy. Even if it is at Javier’s expense.

“You do,” Steve agrees after a while. “You do have that kind of voice.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Jav, I’ve seen you at work countless times. Even walked in on you once while you and Helena were—“

“Don’t bring that up again.”

“Sorry. But why are you pouting about this anyway? Never seen you react like this cause of somethin’ a girl said. A girl like my sister, no less.”

Javier remains quiet. Why did he pout and walk away while you and Connie remained engaged in conversation in the kitchen? It is unlike him, Steve got that right; he’d never feel in any way, shape or form small because of a woman, and even if he could be hurt by a woman, he wouldn’t let it show. Not that it is a conscious choice, but rather another bizarre coping mechanism of his.

Yet it seems that you calling him out on his polite manner of greeting is causing his body to react in unusual ways.

Huh.

“What are you two girls gossiping about?” your voice reaches the living room and Javier instantly stiffens, but he still gets up from the couch and helps Connie set the table, steering clear away from you.

Which you notice. Of course you notice.

“I’m not gonna bite, you know?” you address him directly.

Connie’s eyes follow the two of you intently as you stare at each other from opposite sides of the table. She doesn’t say a word; she can only steal curious glances.

“Unless you’re into that, which… mea culpa, I can get into that too,” you smile mischievously, and Javier fights off the mental image of you leaving bite marks over his neck.

Calm the fuck down, Peña. This is just the dry spell talking.

The more he looks at you, as quickly as humanly possible, and the more he listens to you, the more he acknowledges that yes, you are far from his type.

Which couldn’t be more of a great thing.

“You two sound like an old couple with all this back and forth,” Steve says, laying the lasagna tray right in the middle of the table and makes a face.

“Not sure I’d be up for that challenge. And that’s coming from me.”

“Please! You couldn’t stop talking about marrying Derek, that guy you dated when you got into college. Marrying a bad boy was like your lifelong dream.”

You chuckle, taking a seat in front of Javier as he pours you and Connie some wine.

“That was definitely not my life’s dream,” you smile. “But since you wanna spill tea about the past in front of our guest—“

“You got nothing on me.”

Your smile turns into a rather devious smirk, and Javier can’t help but notice just how well you can match your big brother’s energy, how well you are prepared to handle anything he throws at you.

Resilience. Strength. He admires that.

“Oh yeah?” you cock an eyebrow at your brother, then immediately face Javier and focus all of your attention on him. “Get this: when Steven and Connie started dating, it was all very much textbook romance. The honeymoon stage was all honey and sugar. Every song was about them, every poem was about them. Which meant, naturally, that they were going at it every chance they got, on every surface they could find.”

“Sure,” Javier nods.

“We weren’t really like that,” Connie intervenes softly.

But you raise your hand, dismissing her, and continue. “One day, I stop by Steven’s place and I notice there’s clothes everywhere. I think to myself, ‘must’ve been a wild night, good for them’ because I’m genuinely happy for my brother and I really like his new girlfriend, right? Wrong.”

“Please don’t say it,” Steve begs.

“I make my way to the kitchen, when suddenly I feel something soft and rather moist against my foot.”

“You’re saying it.”

“I look down, and I realize I stepped on a condom.”

“Was it—?”

“That’s right, Javier. I stepped on my big brother’s used condom.”

Javier does everything in his power to not laugh, so he munches on a big piece of lasagna and salad. He washes it all down with a sip of wine, noticing Connie hiding her face in her palms and Steve rubbing his temples and staring into the distance.

“What did I do to you that you had to tell that story?!” Steve exclaims.

“You laughed at my lifelong dream. Which by the way, does not revolve around marriage. And certainly not marrying a bad boy or anything related to that. No offense, Javier.”

“None taken till… just now.”

“Is this about the stupid Star Wars disagreement again?”

Javier’s frown deepens, looking at Connie for some sort of information, yet nothing is readable on her face except an expression that resembles a big “oh shit”.

“’Disagreement’?” you repeat incredulously.

“You guys fought over Star Wars?” Javier surprises himself asking out loud.

“It’s not like that,” Steve says.

“I used to write fanfiction, specifically for Star Wars,” you clarify, your tone bitter now. “That’s how I got started with writing. I love books and reading and… I love writing. That’s why I work at the library.”

“A lot of people get their start through fanfiction, I think it’s great,” Connie adds in what feels like a futile attempt to dissolve some of the tension.

But it’s increasingly clear that the relationship between you and Steve carries more than tension from some silly arguments and some bickering. It runs deeper than what he imagined on his way here, and suddenly he feels guilty for being in the middle.

“I still don’t see the point of it, I’m sorry,” Steve mutters.

“Of course you don’t.”

“Steve.”

“No, I really don’t mean to insult or hurt you, you know that. It’s just… to me, I’m just wondering what the point in writing for a story that’s already been written is?”

You feel anger bubbling at the surface, barely protruding your skin, and yet it simmers dangerously close to your breaking point. You do not want to make a scene, not at this housewarming dinner that Connie worked hard to organize, and not in front of someone who’s practically a stranger.

“The point is creativity, expressing your own thoughts and emotions through words,” you say through clenched teeth. “Even if it is an existing story. You can build within it so that it remains unique and faithful to the material.”

“I’m not the bad guy here, sis. I swear I’m not trying to—“

“It’s not about what you’re trying to do, it’s about what you are doing. And you’re being a dick right now. Excuse me.”

You take a large sip of wine on your way out of the living room, hoping nobody follows you in your pursuit to the bathroom. Yet somehow you end up in a bedroom, presumably Steve and Connie’s judging by the framed picture of them and Olivia on the nightstand. You exhale loudly, closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself.

You know Steve doesn’t want to hurt you. The opposite, really: everything he’s ever done, the reason why he always pushed so hard and pressured and became annoying was because he wanted to protect you in the first place. He loves you and wanted nothing more but to make sure you were safe. You know that.

But right now, you feel like you’re seventeen again, crying in anger, begging your family to just notice you and understand that you are not some freak for being on the quiet side, and the frustration that comes along with the sentiment is nearly debilitating.

A knock on the door startles you, and you roll your eyes. “Not in the mood, Steven. Gimme another two minutes, maybe I’ll conjure a smile then.”

“It’s Javier. Can I come in?”

You’re met with his face, poorly lit, and you nod. He reluctantly sits next to you on the bed, hands intertwined together between his legs. He’s clearly feeling a little awkward, but not too much since he followed you in here.

“You okay?” he asks.

You snort. “Do you really care?”

“I’m not a heartless monster, so… yeah, I guess. Besides the silence at the table is… a killer. Even Olivia’s more talkative. Pretty sure Connie’s laying it onto Steve right about now.”

“I pray you don’t mean physically.”

“Sure as hell hope not.”

You both chuckle, so soft and silent it could go unnoticed by the untrained ear.

“Anyway,” Javier resumes whilst clearing his throat as if what he’s about to say is painful, “I think it’s cool you wrote for Star Wars.”

“I take it you’re a fan?”

“Big time.”

“So… you don’t think my writing is a waste of time?”

“If it’s what you love to do, it never is a waste of time.”

Baffled, you turn towards him. “Watch it, Peña. I might start thinking you’re a good guy after all and so I could spend my time with you.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Definitely not. I’m avoiding you like the plague.”

Javier smiles, looking away from you. You’re witty and got a sharp tongue, but you are still not his type. Even so, you’re not that terrible to joke around with.

“I’m sure you’re a good writer though,” he says, and he’s shocked at his own honesty.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Would you mind telling that to my brother?”

“There are few things I actually mind telling him straight to his face.”

You both laugh, just when Connie knocks on the door, eyes locked on your figure. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, and this time it’s with relief. “Shockingly, Peña calmed me down. Where’s Steven?”

“Sent him outside to cool down. Don’t let him know you guys were alone in here.”

“Why?” Javier inquires.

“I think he thinks that… well… given your tumultuous past and your well-known reputation with the ladies…”

A laughter escapes your throat, rich and sardonic. “He thinks we’re gonna fuck with the first chance we get?” you keep laughing. “Is that how little faith he has in his best friend and his flesh and blood? Motherfucker.”

Connie coos your name, though you it doesn’t really register with you.

“Also, ‘tumultuous past’, seriously? He can call it what it is. I was smoking, drinking, and hanging out with the baddest boys I could find to teach my parents and my big brother a valuable lesson. Lesson that I see has passed by all three of them.”

“Con, I made a promise to a friend. And I intend to keep it. Besides, she’s really not my type, so neither one of you has to worry.”

You shift closer to Javier. “Oh, you mean you don’t find me available and with no standards?”

“See?” Javier smiles, though evidently a little riled up. “We’re fine.”

“O-kay.”

“I should go. Thanks for dinner, Con, it was very nice. The food, cause what followed was…”

“Yeah. Let me walk you out.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see myself out.”

You watch Javier disappear out the frame, your eyes lingering in the doorway one second too long. You’re very appreciative of the way he came in to comfort you, even if he did so rather clumsily. Maybe he’s not good with words. Or maybe he’s not used to comforting women.

Not in this way, at least.

Then you feel Connie’s gaze on you, burning you alive with questions she doesn’t dare ask, and you feel defensive. “What?”

“All the teasing? Him immediately coming to check on you? Comforting you? Plus, the eyes at the table…”

“What eyes? We’re neighbors, barely acquaintances. You’re reading way into it, Connie.”

She raises her arms in defense. “I’m just saying, for a moment there it seemed like you were interested in each other.”

You tsk disapprovingly. “You heard the man, I am definitely not his type.”

“What about him? Is he your type?”

“Connie. Sweetheart. He’s the walking poster for a bad boy. Inconspicuous past, questionable morals and definitely traumatized. While this was exactly what sixteen year old me would’ve swooned over, as sexy as all of that sounds and as attractive as I’d find him, because I’d be lying if I’d say I don’t… no, thank you. Grown me is more mindful of what—or whom—she puts inside her body.”

“Look, I’m not sure what Steve told you about him, but they’re friends for a reason. Not just cause they were partners in the DEA but Javi’s a really good guy. He might’ve done some questionable things back in Colombia, but so did Steve. They did what they had to do to survive and do their jobs, and Javi is actually a very caring person. He just doesn’t like showing it often.”

You rummage through Connie’s words, breaking down each and every single one of them so as to construct a better image of the man that is Javier Peña: a good, honorable man and friend, charming devil to the ladies, but always honest and upfront despite the wall of solitude and grumpiness he puts forth.

Yep. A walking poster for bad boys.

Even worse.

A former bad boy who’s learned from his mistakes and now wants to do better.

“I understand what you’re saying, but you don’t have to sell Javier’s reputation to me. I am not interested,” you reply absentmindedly.

“Alright, suit yourself. But it’s too bad. I think this could be something great for both of you.”

Again you tsk, this time more stubbornly, and you agree to return to the living room and have another glass of wine while you think of how comforted you felt in the presence of whom you could only describe as the most attractive stranger you have ever seen.

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