february thursdays |
jpxreader
Pairing: javier peña x afab!reader
When Javier comes home to see you passed out from exhaustion, he takes care of you. After all, you always took care of him.
WC: 4.1k
Warnings: fluff, angst (hurt/comfort?), mentions of burnout, mentions of weight loss due to stress (weight/size not mentioned), reader has hair (no specifics), mentions of reader’s breasts, soft!javi, nudity (implied sexually and nonsexually), IMPLIED smut (minors dni), no use of y/n. Overall, nothing too explicit, just some soft and loving moments (and a little self indulgence)
Today was long. Most days were, but today, for some reason, it was even more tiring than usual. It was a Thursday, one of the longer days of the week for you. Mondays started late, and Wednesdays and Fridays were usually reserved for your work hours at the local daycare. Tuesdays and Thursdays, though, you would wake up and leave before the sun rose, returning home only after it set.
You loved going to classes; it was just the fact that you were trapped in a tiny, windowless lecture hall all day for almost eight hours, only to go outside and be greeted by the cold, harsh February wind that bothered you. And with the darkened clouds always looming in the sky during the winter months, it was just…bleak. You yearned for the sun and for warmth—anything to pull you out of the sluggish state you’d been stuck in the past few weeks.
You loved going to classes. You did. Truly, you loved learning about anything and everything.
What was strange, and particularly frustrating, was that this morning hadn’t started any differently than your usual mornings. At 5 AM, Javier kissed you on the cheek as he left for work, just like he always did during the weekdays. It was a welcome greeting, and despite the early hour, it was your favorite way to wake up. Your eyes fluttered open and shirt for a moment, listening to Javier’s footsteps in the kitchen while he grabbed his work bag and walked out the door. You listened to the start of his engine and to the soft crush of the gravel under his tires as his headlights faded from view. After a moment or two, you got up as well. Pushing back the covers and sliding your legs off the bed, you tucked your feet into your slippers to protect yourself from the icy hardwood floor. Most mornings, you would make scrambled eggs and toast, but sleep fogged your muddled brain, so you just poured a small cup of leftover coffee Javier had made and a bowl of some wheat cereal. While you ate, you read over your notes you had taken on Tuesday to prepare for your classes, which began at 8:30 AM.
And then you went through your day as usual—listening to lectures, completing assignments, studying material, etcétera. Most days, you minded your own education, but as the semester had progressed, you noticed your peers and their interactions with each other and the professors. They spoke to one another so…efficiently. They asked complex questions and received complex answers from the professors. You love learning. You loved going to class, even if it was sometimes harder to keep up with the fast-paced environment.
By the time you ended up driving home, it was seven at night and the sun had already sunk low into the sky, leaving hardly any light except for the sparse lampposts and the passing cars in town. You didn’t even have the energy to flip through the radio stations on your old, dusty blue Chevy truck—the one you and Javier had bought in Laredo. No, you just listened to the low grumble of the engine and the harsh wind battering against the windows.
In the silence of the truck, you couldn’t help but wonder about Javier. Did he ever feel this tired at the end of each day? The kind of tired that leaves on unable to articulate even the smallest of words. The kind of tired that leaves one unable to move more than what is barely even required. The kind of tired that is too exhausted to register one’s surroundings. Your brain felt like mush, your eyes were blurry, and all you could think of was how debilitatingly exhausted you were. You tried to focus more on the road and your frozen hands gripping the wheel, breathing in and out with increasing effort.
As you drove further and further from the center of town, your thoughts slowly drifted further and further from the present. After you and Javier decided to leave Bogotá together, your fear of Escobar and the narcos began to slowly subside, only to be replaced with the fear of the unknown. You had never left Colombia before; your world wasn’t much larger than the block you grew up on. Not only were you afraid, but you were worried—worried for Javier, specifically. He would never admit how hard it was for him to leave Bogotá, to leave his work that he had spent his life on, but you could see it. It was etched deep into his molten eyes and the crevices of his face. What you might have not entirely realized was that you had helped him out of the trench he found himself in during your time in Laredo. With you by his side, he found his groove once again and moved forward with his life. That’s why, when a group of law enforcement officials approached him with the opportunity to be director of defense tactics and investigations at a new policing academy in the flats of West Texas, he jumped at the chance.
Your train of thought was interrupted by the sound of your truck turning off the main road onto the old dirt path that led to you and Javier’s house. Flicking on your brights, you slowed down, watching for any critters that might scurry across the dirt road. A minute or two passed, and you pulled up to your small house, parking your Chevy in the driveway. You turned over the engine, and despite the cold leaking into the cabin of your vehicle, you signed and sat there. You listen to your breathing pick up from its slow, even pace to a more erratic pattern. A sting pricked behind your eyes, blurring your vision further as tears welled up. It felt like a rock sat in your throat, forcing you to think more actively about swallowing. You sat and stared for a long moment before you gather your items and wiped at your eyes.
Slowly, you trudged into he house, not caring to take off your shoes by the twisting coatrack in the corner of the entryway. The house creaked in the wind, settling into itself as it tried to make peace for the night. Normally, the lack of light filling the house would disturb you, and you would flip on almost every single light switch to scare away anything lurking in the dark—a habit that Javier wasn’t always the most appreciative of.
“You gonna pay the electric bill this month, baby?” He asked, flipping off the unnecessary lights. You tucked your feet under the blanket and pulled your knees to your chest as the living room grew dimmer.
“Only if you protect me from the ghosts,” you laughed, looking at him as he climbed back on the couch, pressing you to his chest. The scent of cigarettes and rosemary filled your nose. His cologne always smelled like rosemary and something else—something woodsy. It was euphoric, making you feel as though you were intoxicated.
“Ghosts? Of course, I’d protect you from the ghosts,” he said, grinning as he looked down at you. You giggled at his declaration. “The ghosts will never getcha. That’s my job!”
Before you could react, Javier tackled you onto your back, hovering over your body. His hands came up to attack your sensitive sides, eliciting a deep belly laugh from you.
“Stop, stop, stop, stop!” you tried to say through a fit of giggles. “Javi, Javi, Javi—”
His fingers slowed, finding rest by your sides, a smile stretching across his face. He laid on top of you, his weight pressing into you, anchoring you. You loved the feeling of him on you; it felt as though a blanket of his devotion had found you, protected you. In the warm yellow light, you basked in contentment.
You didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, you made a beeline for your bedroom, if only to prevent your body from collapsing and shutting down right then and there. You and Javier’s room wasn’t small, but it was a nice and comfortable space to live. Knick-knacks form your endeavors together were meticulously placed on shelves and desks and walls. Papers and sticky notes covered in your handwriting and Javier’s chicken scratch were scattered across the desk by the windowsill. Your bed, which was usually made up before you left for the day, had the covers hanging halfway on the floor, making you sigh in defeat.
Without another thought, you dropped your bag on the floor, undressed, and turned on the shower. Steam from the hot water filled the air, clouding your vision like some kind of hazy dream while you went through the motions…
A day’s work instructing at the police academy was long and exhausting. Not as exhausting as being int he field, though. The slicing cold of the West Texas wind only made it worse, as this type of weather was not exactly what Javier had been used to. But what got him through the day was the knowledge that his lover was waiting at home for him. Since meeting you in Bogotá, you had changed something in him. Once, he was a unsatisfied man, consumed in his work of taking down Escobar’s empire. But you gave him a purpose, a different kind of constant in his life. Going home to you left him feeling safe and tame—it made him feel loved. You were his peace.
When you and him decided to move to the States together, he became worried that once you got a taste of life outside of Colombia, you would decide that there was more to see and you would leave him. It was an uneasiness that struck him deep in his chest. When you arrived in Texas, you did get a taste of the world and of life, and you did decide that you wanted more. You hungered for more. Javier’s anxieties were quelled when you approached him with the idea of attending college. His fears were replaced with pride and joy as he smiled and helped you prepare for your exams, applications, and interviews.
By the time Javier got into his car and began to drive home, all he could think about was getting you in his lap and on the couch, holding you in his arms while the two of you talked softly into the night about each other’s day. Your voice, your face, your body—everything, every little thing about you filled his head. Holding you, dancing with you, sleeping with you…It took all his strength e not to speed through town to get to your home. Passing cars and rickety buildings int he dark of the night led him the way, eventually pulling into your driveway next to your truck.
Your truck was usually always in the driveway before his, so that was no surprise to him. What did surprise him, however, was the total darkness he stepped into upon crossing the threshold of the old house. He was used to being blinded by every single light that was turned on.
“Hermosa?” he called out, placing his work bag on the countertop in the kitchen. He flipped on the lights, grimacing as his eyes adjusted to the soft, almost orange lighting. He looked over to the living room in search of signs of you, but alas, there was nothing. Making his way into your bedroom, he almost tripped over your bag that lay on the floor. He looked toward your shared bed, where you were laying diagonally on top of crumpled sheets and a quilted cover, your hair wet and mop like. You were on your stomach, arms tucked under your breasts, with a towel wrapped around your torso. Obviously, you hadn’t been out of the shower very long, given the state of your hair and the steam still clinging to the mirror. In the bathroom, the soft, yellow light above the sink was still on, and a slow drip flowed from the shower head. Javier turned off the light and proceeded to shut off the water completely.
Striding over to your sleeping form, he leaned down on his knee next to you and placed a gentle hand on your cheek, rousing you from your sleep. You curled in on yourself and groaned, protesting his attempts to wake you up.
“Hermosa,” Javier whispered, “we need to get you in bed. Okay, baby?”
You simply grunted in response to Javier. He knew that your classes recently had been taking a toll on your energy. Almost every day now, you’d come home with a million new things you’d learned that you’d excitedly share with him over dinner, while you lay together, or during a late-night ride with him. But as much as you were learning, you were spending almost every moment of your day studying, or working, or completing whatever else needed to be done. Every day, you’d wake up with bags under your eyes, despite the greedy glint in your eye for more—more knowledge, more work, more anything.
Javier had asked you to slow down, to rest with him, to just press on the brakes once in a while.
“Why on Earth would I do that, mi amor?” you yawned. Your shoulders hunched over as you sat at the desk. Pencil residue clung to the side of your hand from your endless pages of writing you had been immersed in for the past several hours.
“Because it’s Friday, and I miss you,” he looked over to you from the bed. Your nose was just inches from a textbook as you furiously copied down the concepts. When you didn’t respond, Javier knew that you weren’t ignoring him—you were simply in your own world. “Hermosa, you’re going to overextend yourself. Gotta take a break.”
Javier rose from his spot and walked over to you. He leaned over to read what you were writing, resting an arm over your shoulder. He kissed your cheek and played with your hair.
“C’mon, baby, you need a break. You can finish in the morning.”
Finally pulling your head up, you turned to look at Javier. His concern was clearly written on his face. “I’m fine, Javi, just need to finish up this chapter real quick.”
In your relationship, you were always the strong one, his support beam. Not only did you take everything life threw at you in stride, but you would also make something else from it. You had this way of changing your perspective on things on the fly, something he greatly admired about you. Since you started the new program at the local college, though, he could see you slipping from the edge. You put all of your energy into your studies, leaving Javier in awe of your work ethic. The way you juggled everything in your life was something else. But. Just as he would never admit to struggling in Laredo, you would never admit that you were burning the candle at both ends.
Dark circles began to form beneath your eyes, and you had lost some of the plumpness from your face and body. Your hair had become strongly and brittle, unlike its usual volume and texture. Though you always walked around with the same happy-go-lucky demeanor you always presented, there were shadows in your eyes and an edge to your voice that suggested you were only a moment away from breaking down on the spot.
And as much as Javier would ask you about your day, your thoughts and your feelings, you would always reply with nothing but positive remarks. You would say you had a wonderful day. You would say that this has been the greatest experience of your life. You would say how much you loved the town. What you wouldn’t say was how much constant information was thrown at you during classes. What you wouldn’t say was how discouraged you felt when your peers spoke with such confidence and understood everything around them with ease. What you wouldn’t say was that, even though you loved your new town, you sometimes missed Bogotá.
Javier would never force you to talk about things you didn’t want to, but he wished that you would speak out your frustrations to him—or anyone, really. He wished you would stop holding everything in and pushing it down. He wished you would find a way to let everything out. Your brave face, though admirable at times, was becoming more of a mask to hide the obviously struggling person behind it. He just wished you would let him bear the stress on your shoulders, support you, ease your mind—just as you had done for him in Bogotá and Laredo.
Sighing, Javier rose from his spot in front of you, and walked over to the dresser where he knew you kept all of your garments. Top drawer for underwear, middle drawer for pajamas. ‘Pajamas.’ Your pjs were just old shirts o this that you would sneak from him. You started your collection only just a few days after you started seeing each other. Javier hadn’t even noticed you were slipping things form his apartment until he stayed over at yours for the first time and spent the whole night there.
“It’s that my shirt?” he asked, taking a drag from his cigarette as he watched you pull the old, tattered yellow shirt over your sweat lined, bare body.
“It is!” You grinned, spinning around, showing it off to him as you strode to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “It’s my favorite; it’s so comfortable.”
Javier let out a quiet laugh and exhaled, putting out his cigarette, “Looks better on you than it ever did on me.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and then your soft lips. The tender kiss quickly turned into a fervent, hungry kiss. A battle of dominance and power ensued between the two of you. Sliding your arms from your hold around him, you pushed him till his back ran into the wall, placing a hand on his chest.
“Wha’d’ya say? Round two?” You asked, looking at him with feigned innocence. His head leaned back against the wall as he tried to catch his breath.
“You’re gonna kill me, baby.”
Smiling at the memory, he pulled out some soft, dark blue panties and that old yellow t-shirt. Javier wandered back to where you lay. Carefully, he turned you over and leaned you against his chest as he pulled the dusty pink towel from your body, tossing it as best he could toward the bathroom. He slid the shirt and underwear onto you, savoring the fact that you were letting him take care of you for once. He could feel your slow breaths flowing in and out and was hyperaware of the warmth of your skin against his. He relished every moment of tranquility you gave him, but there was something different about this moment in particular. Something about the way you were half asleep, helping him maneuver your body into the clothes.
“Javi,” you mumbled, curling up into a ball with your head on his lap, arms tucked into your chest. “Javi, I am sleepy.”
“I know, c’mon, let’s get you into bed, mi amor,” Javier said with a smile, moving you off him so he could pick you up. With you in his arms, he adjusted the covers and gently laid you down, your head on your preferred pillow. He covered you with the cotton sheets and the patchwork quilt you had picked out together, then proceeded to get ready for bed himself, climbing in next to you.
He pulled you into his arms, your back to his chest, as he tucked his face into your hair. God, he thought to himself, you smelled so good—coconut and lavender, the combination that made him instantly think of you. It took every ounce of control not to kiss your neck, worshipping your very being. Groaning, he tugged you in closer, his grip on your waist tight, as though you might be taken from him.
“Javi, you’re gonna squeeze the life from me,” you chuckled softly, whispering over your shoulder. You moved your arm to try and create a little space between the two of you. He eased his grip but kept his arms around you. Shifting to get comfortable, you finally flipped over to face him, settling back down. “There,” you sighed.
You mustered up the strength to look into his eyes. His soft puppy-dog eyes gave you his undivided attention. He look content, something you hadn’t seen in him until recently. There was something else written on his face, though, in his furrowed brow—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
“What’s wrong, Javi?” you asked, bringing your hand to his jaw your thumb rubbing lightly against his mustache. He leaned into your touch, craving any physical contact you offered.
“Nothing, mi vida. I should be asking you that. Are you alright?”
You didn’t know what else to say to him that you hadn’t already said, “I’m fine.”
“No. You’re hangin’ by a thread. What’s goin’ on?” He wasn’t usually one to be pushy, but seeing you passed out from exhaustion, bare naked, on the bed…It made him more than just nervous.
“I’m just tired,” you looked down, avoiding his intense gaze. “It’s just a lot of work, and this next round of exams is going to take a lot. I might need tot take a day or two off from the daycare.”
“Have you found anyone to study with in your class? Maybe that would take some of the pressure-”
The rock was back, and the stinging in your eyes had returned as well.
“Hey? What’s-” He cut himself off, lifting your chin so he could look at you completely. “What’s wrong?”
You hesitated, upset with yourself for slipping up and letting something like this get to you. Upset that you weren’t able to pull yourself together enough to let it pass. How were you supposed to admit that you…you couldn’t do it all?
“Sometimes,” your voice wavers. “Sometimes, I just—I don’t always understand. You know? I just don’t…”
And just like that, Javier understood a little more why you were so exhausted. Why sometimes you wouldn’t speak for several hours.
You exhaled and whispered just loud enough for Javier to barely hear, the words tumbling from your mouth, “I understand everything, but sometimes, I just can’t keep up. They say things and I know what they’re saying, but I don’t think like them, and I have to spend so much time, and I can never keep up.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he pressed you against him, rubbing circles on your back with his palm. He knew that you loved your classes—that was almost all you talked about to him. He had never considered the fact that you would have more obstacles than the others. Javier held you and let you cry to him. Feeling more vulnerable than average before but never safer, you let the barriers you had built up so long ago crumble down.
A moment or two passed as you cried in Javier’s arms, sitting in his quiet affection. As your tears slowed, you inhaled deeply, trying to recover. Sleep beckoned to you once again, feeling heavier than before.
“I’m so sorry, I sh-” you tried to apologize to him, but he stopped you mid-sentence, shaking his head softly.
“In Bogotá, you cared for me, took the weight from me. In Laredo, you encouraged me, loved me. If you can sacrifice and support and be there for me in every waking moment, I can do this for you. You can cry to me, rant to me, anything. I’m worried about you. Let me bear this with you.”
You listened to his pleadings with open ears, taking his words to heart. “I know, mi amor. I am sorry. I am going to be better, I promise.”
A yawn escaped your lips, as he reached to wipe away the tears from your face.
“Go to sleep, hermosa. You need sleep, need rest,” he whispered to you. “Thank you for tellin’ me what been goin’ on. We can talk more tomorrow.” He moved to kiss the top of your head. “But you need rest.”
“M’not tired.”
“I beg to differ, baby,” he said in that tone of his he gets when he’s amused.
“No, I promise,” you yawn again, eyes fluttering closed from the weight of lack of sleep. “I promise.”
“Mhm, “ he threaded his hand through the hair on the nape of your neck, lulling you back into your dreams. “G’night, mi amor. I love you,” he kissed you again, drawing a soft sigh from you.
“Love you. Nigh’,” you breathed out, leaning further into the safety of him as sleep lovingly took you over.
