Normality Optional

30 something who has seen Tumblr rise and fall many times. Now, I'm just trying to trick you with smut to read my little PPCU Dynasty.

[vodkaandpizza]

Fic Masterlist (of Master Lists)

Javier Peña X Helena Sotomayor

Ghosts of Bogotá Masterlist

Frankie Morales x OFC

The Devil's Pilot Masterlist

Clint Flood x OFC

The Man and The Moon Masterlist

One Shots

With Somebody Who Loves You

5K - Javier X Helena - Javier and his wife drop their daughter off at College.

[exhuastedpigeon]

The first rule of fandom is have fun. The second rule of fandom is find an enabler and become an enabler. Yes you should write that fic. What if it was even hornier? What if it was angstier? What if you wrote it just for me?

[vodkaandpizza]

The only way most fics get finished, especially in quieter fandoms.

@awkwardpaws👀

[vodkaandpizza]

Microsoft word using an internal ai predictive text to try and predict what your going to type is so funny to me. Especially because I would describe my typing style when writing the first draft of a fic as "cat walking across the key board"

[vodkaandpizza]

Speed Demons

Chapter 3 of The Devil's Pilot

See Masterlist : See AO3 : See Prologue : See Previous Chapter : Next Chapter: Too Much But Too Little

See Prequel Fic - The Ghosts of Bogota (With Javier Pena)

Summary: After winning her bet Esie takes Frankie on a date she knows he'll love since she figures the single father might not do a lot for himself.

Speed Demons

“How’d it go?” Frankie asked Santi when he got home.

“Great! We watched the Frozen sing alone twice. I was Elsa, Lilly was Anna. She said I was a better Elsa than the actual Elsa.” Santi bragged.

“Rough way to find out my daughter is tone deaf, man.”

“How dare you! I have a beautiful voice.”

“She probably just said it to trick you into letting her stay up late with a second watch.”

“No, she said it because it’s true and because she wanted to be Anna. And she wouldn’t let me be Kristoff because apparently that’s your part.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t really sing. What time did she go to bed?”

“Like 10?”

“Pope! Her sleep schedule is going to be all fucked up!”

“Well, I don’t get her to myself very often. One night won’t kill her.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you aren’t going to have to fight with her tomorrow night when she doesn’t want to go down.”

“I’ll be here. So, how’d it go?”

“Fine.”

“Fine like you’re going to see her again?”

“Yeah, fine like that.”

“Ooh, did you kiss?”

“None of your business.”

“You're blushing, you totally made out. Good for you, I was worried you’d forgotten how.”

“It hasn’t been that long and I don't blush.”

“Two years.”

“Shut up Pope.”

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Frankie picked Esie up the following Saturday afternoon after being kicked out of the house by Santi and Lilly. Apparently, he wasn’t invited to tea time. Which was a little hurtful.

He still didn’t know where they were going. The concession to their little pet argument earlier.

“I’ll drive.” Frankie said on the phone that morning as they finalized their plans.

“Awful lot of demands for a man who lost a bet.” Esie teased.

“I’m driving.”

“Do you think I’m a bad driver?” Esie took mock offence, she didn't give a shit, she just liked getting the quiet man going a little. .

“I think I’m a better driver.” Frankie insisted tactfully.

“We’ll see. Fine, have it your way, if that’s what your fragile male ego demands. But I’m not telling you where we’re going.”

“That’s fine, you can be on nav.”

“On Nav?” She laughed, “You’re kind of a nerd about this stuff aren’t you.”

“I’ll see you at 1, Es.”

As they edged farther out of town and neighbourhoods had given way to industrial parks Frankie began to doubt her navigation abilities.

“Are you sure we’re headed in the right direction?”

“Yes, of course, how dare you doubt me.” Esie didn’t look up from her phone which was open to maps, “Turn left up here… no right, no... yeah left, definitely.”

“You aren’t inspiring confidence.”

“I’m not used to you being so chatty,” she joked, it was probably the first time Frankie had spoken in ten minutes, “it’s distracting.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere…”

“Sometimes that’s exactly where you need to be.”

Frankie scoffed “Wow.”

“What?”

“Is that the writing of a Pulitzer?”

“Oh yeah, people eat that profound shit up! Shakespeare wrote ‘to be or not to be’ and no one has shut up about it since.”

And because Frankie wanted to impress her a little he said, “I’m more of a Dostoevsky man myself.”

“You preferer your characters to be victims of circumstance rather than victims of their own stupidity?”

“I think some of his are both. But no, he can show you an entire characters life in one chapter, even if you don’t agree with their choices, or even like them, you understand them. Shakespeare’s characters are also victims of circumstance, but usually they’re status makes them… vapid, their choices are unearned, it bothers me. But I guess those are plays, so different mediums.”

“Wow, flyboy is also smart boy.” But she looked a little impressed. Or at least intrigued. A win by Frankie's estimation.

But to drive the point home he added, “You know I went to college right?”

“Oh really? Here I thought you just wanted to make plane go up and car go forward.” Esie said sarcastically.

“I did also want to 'make plane go up' but you have to go to college to be an officer in the Airforce.”

“An officer? Sounds fancy, what was your star sign?”

He thought he saw what she was doing, he rolled his eyes, “My call sign, I know you know that. And you know it already.”

“Ahhh and we almost have an answer to the 'fish' of it all, I really meant your ranking though.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why not!”

“It’s a secret.”

“What good is a ranking if it’s a secret?”

“I can tell you that I was an operator.”

“What the fuck does that mean? That’s more vague than ‘pilot’!”

Frankie smiled, he’d finally figured out a way to wind her up a little too. And he didn’t care anymore if they were just driving around lost on the outskirts of San Antonio, he was having fun anyway. Except…“Where are we going? We hit a dead end.” They were in a parking lot. That was mostly empty.

“Oh yah, we’re here.”

Frankie looked around a little more. “Is this… a racetrack?”

“Yeah, I figure if you like plane go up, you’d also like car go vroom.”

“I need you to stop talking like that.” He said but he was still grinning a little.

“Fine… My friend used to be a race car driver, like a professional one. I met him through my mother, at her practice, he was in a big crash, my ma’s specialty is in PTSD, usually she works with veterans and stuff but, she helped him get over his crash. Now he’s got this business where you can drive all his fancy race cars. Do you like it?"

It had never occurred to Frankie that she would pick something for their date because she thought it was something he’d enjoy. He wasn’t sure anyone had ever really done that before. “Esie, this is great.”

And without really thinking about it he leaned over and kissed her. When he pulled away she was smiling triumphantly.

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Esie’s friend Devon had closed down for a couple hours for her. Happy to see his old friend. He’d greeted them and showed them to the cars. Which Frankie gravitated to like a moth to a flame, while Devon and Esie stood back and chatted.

“He’s cute, I used to fuck a mechanic that he reminds me of… I think it’s the messy hair and the hat?” Devon said as they watched Frankie inspect the cars like a kid at Christmas. Ana had helped Devon figure out his PTSD, Esie had helped him figure out some other stuff. She had a knack for that kind of thing. “And its like he’s fit, but also has a dad bod?”

“Hey! Do you mind if I pop the hood!?” Frankie called from a car, oblivious to their conversation.

“Knock yourself out!” Devon shouted back. To Esie he said in a lower voice, “How’s the D, it deliver on the promises of those hands and that nose?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“You brought him here, on a straight man’s dream date, and you didn’t even fuck him yet? Girl!”

“Yeah well, remember that story about the MANPADS in the jungle?”

“Yeah why?”

“That’s the pilot.”

“No shit.”

“Yep, just showed up on the ranch one day, like a lost puppy. Plus, he’s got a little girl at home, single dad, so I don’t think he gets out much.”

“Saint Esie.”

“Absolutely not. I’m going to do things with that man that will make the devil blush.”

“That’s my girl.”

“I think I’ll take that McLaren if that’s alright?” Frankie said when he joined them again.

“Good eye, she’s my favourite too,” Devon told Frankie, “I’ll walk you through her,” he said walking him over to the car.

When they were out of ear shot Frankie murmured “Do me a favour and put her in your safest car?”

Devon chuckled, “Way ahead you Top Gun, only thing I trust that girl on is a horse.”

“Good.”

When he went back to Esie, he said, “Make you a deal, whoever wins gets to plan the next date.”

Esie shook on it. For safety they could only race each others time, not head to head. It didn't really matter though, Frankie beat her easily. And just for fun Esie argued, “Not fair! Your car was definitely faster!”

“I’ll beat you in yours too then…” he looked at Devon, “if that’s OK?”

“Have at it.”

Frankie nearly skipped back to the track.

“I don’t understand you creatures and your fascination with these things.” Esie mused. As Frankie sped away again.

“Its like horses.”

“But with no soul riding with you, what’s the point?”

“Dear god, you’re in one of those moods, I hope he fucks the philosophical attitude right out of you.”

“Rude!”

Frankie beat her easily again. Not that she thought it was going to go another way. And as he walked her up to the yellow house that night after an early dinner Esie floated her final plan for the evening. “No one else is home, everybody is at the Ranch this weekend if you want to come in…”

It would be so easy, so good to just follow her through the door. But Frankie was never easy on himself. And he wanted to do this right. He didn’t want her to think she just some girl. She was… well ...she was Esie. Esie who was a smart ass, Esie who frustrated him, Esie who knew he'd love racing cars and hate clubs. “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” She hadn’t seen that coming.

“I’d like to do this properly.”

“Properly?” She looked confused.

“You know…” He wasn’t sure how to explain.

He looked adorable, and frustrated as he pulled his emotional security cap down lower, so Esie decided to save him the only way she knew how. “Frankie …its okay if you’re a virgin...”

Frankie scoffed, “I have a whole ass daughter, Esie.”

She ignored that, “We can take it as slow as you need, it’s a little intimidating actually, I don’t think I’ve popped a guy’s cherry since college.”

“Esie…”

“It’s a big step…”

“Esie!” She stopped when she saw his face coloured with frustration.

“…will you please just do this my way?”

Esie nodded, “Ok Frankie, we’ll do it your way. Sorry, I was just kidding.”

“I know.”

“I’m not used to guys like you.” Esie said softly, sincerely.

“Guys like me?” He asked confused at her meaning.

“Yeah, you know sweet, good guys…who are also hot.” She threw that in hoping he’d crack a cute little smile.

No luck.

Frankie wasn’t sure he qualified as a good guy. But he hated the idea that she’d been with a bunch of dicks, “You’ve never dated any good guys?”

Esie thought for a moment. “My high school boyfriend was a good guy, but… I also think it helped that he was a little afraid of Javier.”

Success, a small smile threatened the side of Frankie’s mouth.

“You’re not… afraid of my pops are you Frankie?” He noticed she used her father's name as well as called him 'pops'. And she’d said his father was only 'sort of like' her grandfather. He wondered if there was something about that. But maybe it was just one of her quirks. So he ignored it.

“Esie, I’ve been to actual war. I’m not scared of your father.” That was almost true. He worked for the DEA now, and he did know he was an important man there.

“Sure…”

And because Esie piqued his curiosity he asked. “Was he hot?”

“My father? No, he’s always been old and looks like Burt Reynold’s cousin… what a weird thing to ask.”

“No! Your high school boyfriend!” In his frustration he wondered if maybe he could go back on being a good guy and just fuck her up against that wall. Feel her body pinned between yellow wood siding and his body. Make the only thing coming out of her mouth a moan of his name. He shook his head and re-adjusted his cap as if to banish the thought. Where did that come from anyway? Santi was right, two years was way too long.

She thought for a moment oblivious to Frankie's momentary inner turmoil. “Kind of, for high school, he was a drummer…very cool.”

“Aren’t drummers supposed to be freaks?”

“Like in bed, in my experience that’s base players actually…” She mocked playing base “…the fingers you know?”

Frankie groaned ,“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Probably, but you’ll enjoy it. La petite mort, Frankie. The…”

“I know what that means, get inside before I change my mind.”

“Not a very good threat.”

“Good night Esie.”

She gave him a cheeky mock salute, “Good night… sir.”

He shook his head as he walked away but he was smiling ear to ear as he got in his truck.

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The next time Frankie flew to the Peña Ranch he sent Esie a Text, not trusting Chris's understanding of ranch operations.

“I think Javier said the east field? I ‘m not sure, you can just put it down where you don’t see any cows or horses.” Chris had said that morning when Frankie asked.

Esie’s text rang through: “Northwest field, about 4 miles from the barn as the crow flies."

“Right sir.” Frankie said. He’d put it down in the northwest field, though he imagined that his boss would hate the walk.

Esie: “What time?”

Flyboy: “11:00”

Esie: “10-4 …captain.”

Flyboy: “I was a Master Sergeant”

Esie: “Ha! Gotcha! Sounds fancy, kinda hot …you bossy Master Sergeant?”

Trust Esie to make it dirty. She’d made it her mission to make Frankie being a good man as hard as humanly possible. He wanted to be fucking bossy alright.

“Hey!” Chris said, “You ready Morales?”

Frankie turned his phone off quick.

“You alright bud, you look a little…”

“I’m fine was just checking wind speeds. Should be ready to be off the ground in 15.”

 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You sure this is the right spot, feels kind of far.” Chris complained predicably.

But Frankie was used to route marches with 40lb packs. And he’d rather that than piss off the Peña’s again.

But like clockwork Esie trotted over the ridge three, 3 horses in tow.

“Hey Kid!” Chris said pleased to see her. Pleased he didn’t have to walk either.

“Brought you our nicest horse, for your city slicker ass.” She hopped off and handed Chris the reigns to a palomino. Buttercup, if Frankie wasn’t mistaken.

“I appreciate it.”

“Hughes, you’re on the dark brown one, he’s sweet too.” Hawke.

“And Sarg, brought you our Star Lilly, figured you might have a soft spot for her.”

“Sarg?” Hughes asked.

“Yeah,” Esie flashed Frankie a smart-ass grin “don’t cha know, your pilot was a super secret super special army guy before he was carting your sorry asses around.”

His colleges seemed unfazed by Esie, they knew her well it seemed. “If it’s super secret, how do you know?” Hughes said.

“She’s Esie, that’s how.” Chris said as he climbed on Buttercup. Frankie had to grab the reigns quickly, so Buttercup didn’t wander in a circle, confused by his sloppy mount.

“You boys are just in time for lunch.” Esie said as she turned the young grey stallion in the direction of the ranch house.

Notes:

Next Chapter: Too Much But Too Little

[vodkaandpizza]

With Somebody Who Loves You

Older!Javier Peña One Shot

Javier and his wife drop their youngest daughter off at college then spend a few days in San Francisco on a little vacation. Inspired by the photo shoot Pedro did for Fantastic Man, there are a couple of pictures he took that look a lot like how I picture an older Javier Peña. 5K

AN: Hello! This can be read as a standalone but it is a part of the Ghosts, Devils and Cowboys universe. It takes place almost 20 years after the events of The Ghosts of Bogotá. Timeline wise it's after the sequel The Devil's Pilot Chapter 23: Eldest daughter, but this is a Javier and Ana fic. Ana for those uninitiated is actually Helena Sotomayor from S1E2 of Narcos. But now she goes by Ana for fleeing from the cartel reasons...

Warnings: for explicit sexual content; very light Dom/Sub dynamics; Oral sex; Penetrative sex; Light spanking; a very brief illusion to past assault (not graphic, but a Narcos canon event)

Late August 2017

Berkley, California

“Javier Peña! What the hell are you doing up there?” His wife Ana called up from the ground. She and their youngest daughter were standing in the courtyard of the Berkey dorm staring up at Javier. Their expressions a mix of bemusement and exasperation.  

Javier looked down over the edge of the fire escape, arm hooked around the iron ladder for balance. He could see his wife and daughter staring up at him through his new aviators. A present from Ana for his birthday last week. He’d been grouchy about getting older. Or at least that’s what his beautiful wife had accused him of. It was no secret that he was older now. They hadn’t had their daughter Hels, as everyone affectionally called her, until he was in his forties. But it had felt like just yesterday he was cradling her in his arms as a baby. Up with her in the middle of the night when they both couldn’t sleep.

 Now they were in California for the week getting his little baby settled in her dorm room. She was still only 17, she’d skipped a grade. Javier had always said she’d gotten her mother’s brains. But she had his drive too, and his baby had big plans for her future. She was going to be a doctor. Which made Javier happy, not because he cared about the prestige, but because he figured it should be a safe enough occupation. That and she’d have even less time for moronic frat boys. His baby girl was an old soul in many ways. He still wasn’t quite sure where that had come from. He and her mother had both been much wilder in their youth, back when they both ran the streets of Bogotá.

He smiled down at his girls. “I’m just checking the security, the windows only open from inside. But maybe I should buy a cover just in case someone tries to break the window.”

“Pops! Can you please not look into the girl’s dorm windows my first day of college!” Hels groaned. She’d done pretty well tolerating his antics so far, she’d gotten lucky, her older sister warned there was no small chance that he might buy some university mech at the store, a shirt and start wearing it around. But she’d lucked out, maybe he was exhausted from the Ikea trip the day before for her dorm room furniture. But whatever the reason he’d stayed in his white button up.

“Relax, mi alma, no one’s moved in here yet, the next one up is your dorm, I checked the blueprint before we came.” He called down. Mi alma. My soul, he’d called her that often. Javier Peña in his lowest moment had once believed that he’d sold his soul and wouldn’t be aloud to ask for it back. For a long time he didn’t. Then one day in a San Antonio hospital he figured it had come back to him anyway. In the form of the pretty girl that now stood mortified below him.

“Mama!” Hels pleaded, “He’s ruining any shot I have at fitting in.”

“Javier get down!” Ana called to Javier. “I should have known this would happen when I saw the blueprints in the office.” She told her youngest daughter with an eye roll as Javier climbed down.

“I can look at your window after we get your furniture moved in.” He said as he headed to the U-Haul.

 Hels groaned. “Just humour him. You moved three states away. I had to talk him out of buying a condo near the campus.” Her mother told her.

“I’m lucky he didn’t try to move into the dorms.” Hels joked.

“I wouldn’t give him any ideas.”

Hels’ focus landed on her father once more fixing him with a scathing teenage glare. “Pops, can you please do up another button? You look like a pirate and people are staring.”

“It’s hot in California,” he grumbled.

“Sure is.” Ana smirked her eyes falling to her husband’s neck at he, unfortunately did up another button.

“Not hotter than Texas.” Hels said ignoring her parents’ flirtation.

Ana smirked, “Come on Fabio, it’s a miracle you didn’t get any rust stains on that shirt up there.” It was the nice white one he’d packed for dinner that night, He and Ana were heading to San Franciso that night for a little vacation before heading back to Texas. They’d moved all the furniture that morning then gone to their hotel in Berkley to check out and change. Technically they should have been going for a grocery shop and putting up posters. Clearly, Javier had a couple more security checks he hadn’t brought up with them.

“That’s why I normally wear colours never had to worry about that when I was running though the comunas.”

Hels sighed, turned on her heel and headed to her dorm, not interested in her parents reliving their glory days in Columbia. Once Hels was settled in her dorm room with the window now secure to Javier’s standards. Ana had to practically drag him down the hall. “Do you think she will be alright?” he asked looking over his shoulder.

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

They sat in the beautiful, trendy, well reviewed restaurant in the Castro district later that night. They’d only just ordered their drinks, but Javier anxiously checked his phone for the fifth time since they’d sat down, just in case Hels had needed anything.

“Baby we are on vacation now. You’ve got to relax a little. She’s all moved in and she knows she can get a hold of us.”

Vacations had always been a hard concept for Javier. His mind was rarely quiet. Relaxing didn’t come naturally either. He’d never taken many when he worked with the DEA and the ones he did take were usually forced on him by a superior who was a little tired of dealing with the dogged agent. The first time he’d ever taken a real vacation had been with Ana and her oldest daughter. Even then he approached the planning and execution of such things in a similar fashion to how he would execute an operation with the DEA.

 The restaurant they were sitting right now had been a meticulously chosen. It wasn’t that he was beyond spontaneity. He’d left that even after diner open, he figured they could walk around the Castro district a little, take in the sights, see where they ended up. His planning now was about wanting the best for his family. Ana had worked hard, she’d been a single mother to her oldest daughter, then she’d gotten her doctorate in psychology when she and Javier got back together in Texas. Now his diligence, the drive that had hunted down drug lords, was all focused on making sure his family had the best he could give them. And making up for lost time. “I’m just worried about her. She’s never been this far from home and she’s so young.”

“Which is why we decided to take our vacation here this week remember? So we could be close enough if she really needed something.”

“I know.”

“She’s going to be fine. She’s worked for this for years and she’s probably excited to be at her first night in college. No more hovering Javi.” She said as the waiter dropped off their drinks. She raised her glass, “To being empty nesters.”

“I don’t want to cheers to that.” He said sullenly. Ana studied him for a moment. It wasn’t right, that a man could looked so handsome even when he was pouting. She knew he’d struggle with this. He’d been fine until she’d announced she was going to take premed out of state. Then he’d gone into a quiet tailspin of worry. There were too many variables, things that could go wrong, things he couldn’t fix if he needed to. But she didn’t want to spend their entire holiday with him dwelling on the evitable. She pivoted changed her approach. “To your birthday then.”

“That was last week.” His big sad eye snapped up, he knew what she was up to, he decided to play along anyway. “I thought you forgot.” He teased

“I never forget! And I gave you those sunglasses on your birthday.”

“That was a gift for you, you know I was happy with the old ones.” He was just being cheeky and they both knew it. He rarely got to wind her up anymore. He took every occasion where he thought he could.

“You know you needed prescription ones!”

The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to hide his smirk.  “You did forget once...”

Her nose crinkled with indignant annoyance. Success, he always adored the face she made when she was a tiny bit frustrated with him. “I didn’t forget, I just forgot to bring your gift from the house to the ranch.”

“You look so pretty when you're mad at me.”

“Javi…” She warned but she smiled back at him as she rolled her eyes.

“I still think you forgot...”

“Well, I made it up to you, and the result of that just started college. I haven’t forgotten since, so I’m not buying your sob story Pandejo.” She said as she lifted her glass meeting his big brown eyes that had shifted from sullen to sparkling with humour over the course of their banter.

“Salud Javi.”

“To my beautiful wife.”

“We were cheers-ing to your birthday.”

“Well, it’s been so crazy I’ve forgotten to cheers to you too lately.” She roll her eyes as she put the glass to her lips.

They had their dinner. Chatting and teasing throughout. When the topic of dessert came up Ana pulled something from her purse as she said, “I got you one more thing to celebrate.”Ana held out a cigarette.

“Really?”

“Just one, for your birthday. Unless you don’t want …”

He snatched it from her fingers. Standing up he planted a kiss on her cheek, “Thank-you mi amour, order whatever you want. I’ll be right back.”

Javier Peña had quit smoking in his 40s after he left the DEA. Not for heath reasons, at not entirely. Javier was a man who like to control, when he felt in control things felt safe things usually were safe. Not for him but the people around him. It was a fact he wasn’t to this day completely aware of, but he knew on some deep level that when he wasn’t in control bad things happened.

So he hadn’t quit smoking because of any thought of living longer, truth be told when he was a young man he’d have scoffed at the very idea of living this long. That his dark locks would be lightened with strands of grey. That thought it even less likely that he’d be happy to see them. That he could one day be a content old man. One who wanted as many day on this planet as possible. But he did now. Now that he had a dazzling intelligent beautiful wife and two clever daughters he wanted every moment he had with them.  So he didn’t smoke anymore, except on very rare occasions.

And he’d be lying if he didn’t miss the burn of his lungs and the taste of tobacco on his lips. Which was why he didn’t ever trust himself to buy a pack. It was in a terrible fight with Ana that she’s first become the warden of the cigarettes, not to nag him just a small loophole in his iron clad resistance, so now she doled them out sparingly on special occasions. He usually got one on his actual birthday. In the chaos that had surrounded the late summer, moving looking after the ranch, their eldest with her surgery and splitting time between the Ranch in Laredo and the house and her clinic in San Antonio he’d assumed she’d just forgot. Now he realized she knew he’d want one after the stress of moving their baby three states away for college. So she’d saved it. And she had been right to.

As he stood outside, he realized he’d forgotten one kept component to smoke. Fire. He didn’t have a lighter.

“Need a light handsome?” A sultry voice asked coming up beside him. A beautiful tall dark-haired woman about 20 years younger than him asked. She held out a hand and causally flicked on a sliver zippo. Javier hadn’t been expecting that. He nodded cigarette already between his lips.

Javier was a happily married man,  but he was still Javier Peña. So he still knew when he was being checked out. And had no problem playing along with some casual flirting over a cigarette. His dark eyes crinkled as he leaned down towards the flame. He didn’t have to lean far down she was rather tall in her heels

“I’m singing tonight just down the street. At a bar called Bellow the Castro, its all covers of the great old hits, Nicks, Parton, Houston, the holy trinity.  Then here’s Latin band coming on later for more dancing, you look like somebody who can move…”

Javier shot her his most devastating smile, “So do you sweetheart. I’ll see if my wife wants to. She loves to dance, but… well let’s just say we left our club days in Bogotá.”

“You’re not from around here.”

“Texas.”

“You don’t strike me as much of a cowboy.”

“Only when I have to be.”

“Mhmm. Well who’s your favourite? Of the old music queens? Texas. I’ll sing one for you and your wife if you two come see.”

“Dolly then, my wife tells me Islands in the Stream is our song, it was a hit the year we fell in love.”

“1983? In Columbia?” Javier nodded while he ashed his cigarette. “Dios mios, mi abeula was from there, the 80’s in Columbia must have been a hell of a time.”

“It was.”

“Islands in the Stream.” She said committing the song to that night’s playlist. “What are your names?”

“Javier and Ana.” She repeated, committing it to memory. “I’ll sing it for you if I see you.”

Javier gave a non-committal-nod. “Maybe we’ll see you there, thanks for the light.”

“No problem, papi.” She said with a wink of long false eyelashes. Then she pushed away from the wall of the restaurant and sauntered off.

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

“I’m pretty sure this is the place.” Javier said looking at the little bar entrance as he pulled out his wallet to pay the man at the door cover.

“I don’t know if this is going to be alright Javi.” Ana warned as he led her down the steps of music club. “I doubt this is going to be like the senior’s salsa night.”

When they were young, they’d danced in the salsa clubs in Bogotá. Ana was an amazing dancer, and she loved to do it. Then after Ana had been attacked in Medellin, she’d hated the clubs, crowded spaces, anywhere where someone might feel entitled to touch her. A touch could send her overboard, a stranger innocently placing their hand on her should made her skin crawl, and sometimes even all these years later sent her body into an immediate response of fear and pain. In a single moment undoing, if temporarily, the work she’s done for years in therapy. Then Javier had reappeared in her life. At 40 they’d gone slower than they had the first time around, in many ways. He’d eventually worked up to her body trusting his again too. Then one Valentine’s Day he’d given her the best gift she could have imagined. He’d given her back dancing.

Javier had found a little bar outside San Antonio that did a senior’s salsa nigh on Thursdays. They’d been the youngest couple there by 30 years. It had seemed silly, but Javier figured it would be a place to start. A way to go dancing again. Now they almost looked like they belonged to the crowd, they still went once a month nearly 20 years later.

He turned to kiss her, his dark eyes sparkling. “I know, but I’ll be right here. And if you want to go we can go… si mi renia?”

She took a breath. Javier had never once - in their almost 20 years of marriage - put her in a place where she would be uncomfortable or unsafe. He’d made that mistake once in Columbia, one Ana would still argue wasn’t his fault. It was one of his biggest regrets. Since then, Javier had gotten older and wiser. She’d been surprised he’d mentioned going in the first place, he almost never took her any where he hadn’t vetted prior. But he seemed oddly confident about this one.

When they entered the dark bar, it was crowded. People where dancing, but it did indeed look different than the salsa clubs in Bogotá and the senior salsa night they’d been going to for nearly 20 years, long enough they no longer looked so out of place there amongst the other patrons. There where lots of men in close quarters, an issue usually except…

Ana grinned after a quick survey of the stage and the early bar crowd, “Javier did you know this was a drag bar?”

Javier gave her a big grin, crinkled eyes dancing with amusement, “I had an idea when the woman who invited me had an Adams apple and was well over 6 feet tall. So, do you think you’ll be okay here? If not we can go, walk to the harbour or something, get a cocktail that costs way more than it should.”

“No, I think this will be fun, as long as I have you.”

“Always.”

So, they danced, their bodies moving together. And they sang along to some of the old power hits. True to her word Javier’s new friend sang Islands in the Stream with her lead guitar players and pointed to them in the crowd as she introduced the duet. They crowed cheered for them too, at her shout out and Javier gave a little wave, never one to shy away from the right kind of attention.  

Ana laughed as she whispered in his ear her hand around his neck as Javier’s new smoking buddy crooned a wonderfully sultry version of I Want to Dance with Somebody. “In Bogotá, only had to look out for the girls trying to steal your attention, here its both.” She laughed.

“You are rewriting history… it was me who had to worry about you getting stolen away those nights.”

“Well you didn’t really, you were paying then.”

“Not always and there were perros with far deeper pockets than me.”

“But not anymore, hermoso.”

“…or better dancers.”

“No,” She teased as her drew her to the dance floor. “You still dance like a gringo.”

He tugged her in closer, a large hand covering the entire small of her back. Then slipped a denim clad thigh between hers rocked so he knew it rubbed just the right spot. Then step back and spun her before pulling her body back against his. Then in a low voice he told her ear “you always liked my gringo dancing.”

“Si, and you liked when I teased you, you liked feeling like you won me.”

“Not now.”

“Not then either, there was never any competition.  Not really.”

They danced a few more songs. The bar was dark on the dance floor and got more crowded, so Javier kept them to the back close to the door. He kept her in his arms so she wouldn’t panic. And just because he enjoyed having her there. When the salsa band came on, she stopped being so coy with her teasing. Her lips found the spot they both loved at the base of his neck. Then she ran a hand down his half-unbuttoned shirt then kept going low until…

“You keep that up Doc, and I’ll fuck you right here.” He growled, threading a large hand in her dark hair holding it back as he talked to her ear over the music of the band.

She looked up at him innocently despite what she was about to say, “Oh, I would have thought you had it planned out already, how you wanted to fuck me. You usually do…”

That was the last straw as he pulled her to the exit. He had her pressed up against the brick wall kissing her neck then her lips. Breaking briefly to order an uber.

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

They were starting another sort of dance as they fell into their hotel room laughing and kissing. His large hands guided his wife of nearly twenty years, and his lover of many more. They were just enjoying the easy the feel of being together. The gentle practiced love they shared. He marvelled at her as he slipped her dress off. He’d assumed as a young man that the lust the attraction would fade as one aged with their partner. That you would commit to them and even though you remained attracted to the same bodies and faces you had been in your prime. Javier would tell you many times over that he been an idiot in his youth.

Indeed, as he slipped his wife out of her dress, he found her even more intoxicating than he did when she had been in her twenties, when her very look and her job had been to seem alluring to him, to all men. But now, now that she had been his for so long. And he had been hers, his eyes adored the imperfections, the wrinkles they created together from laughing, the sunspots that graced her beautiful skin from their moments shared on sandy shores and as she turned to him her eyes sparkled with confidence, with knowing the power she still had over him. The spell she cast as she reached for the buttons on his shit pulling her with him as she backed up towards the bed and murmured “Come, mi amour, I want to feel you, you’ve been teasing me all night now I want you to deliver.”

“So demanding.” He laughed reaching an arm around her as he guided them both to the mattress. Shirt artfully tossed aside her hand were on his pants now, quickly undone the buttons and freeing him and his length from the denim. When his hands were off he hovered over her caging her in before finding her lips for a deep kiss. A moan escaping from him when her hand wrapped around his thick length. She made no moved to pump, she did nothing more than caress the soft hard weight of it in her palm. “I want you slow tonight. Okay cariño? I need to taste you first.”

“Okay, Javi,” her eyes crinkling in a soft smile, “if you need to.” Her tone was playful as if he’d asked for some grand imposition. The humour left her though, giving way to little gasps as he kissed his way down her body, taking only a small detour to kiss her inner thighs. Then landing in a greedy consuming kiss on her lower lips, his tongue swiping then plunging into her centre, a tease of what would follow. Her hands were gasping his think salt and pepper locked when his mouth came to suck on her clit. True to his world he took it slow, in no rush as he eased her to her first gentle orgasm with his lips.

She was basking of the warm glow of his work when his eyes found hers again. His dark eyes swimming with a cocky pride. “Are you ready? Tell me.”

“Si, I need to feel you baby.” He pushed in slowly. Not to torment, this time but to savour. To savour the feel of him taking him in, and the blown-out look of pleasure in her eyes as she did. “Javi, you feel so good.”

“You’re so beautiful” He said as he set a rhythm sure t bring them to a sensual peak. Her fingers dug into his back as he rocked into her, relentless until finally they both reached their peak together. She felt his chest rumbled with a groan and he came above her. He waited as they caught their breath savouring the last few moments as their bodies surrounded one another. He kissed her forehead as he pulled out and whispering. “I missed you.”

“I haven’t been anywhere but with you Javi.” She told him slightly confused.

“Today, but it’s been a busy summer. Between the ranch and your clinic and our crazy girls.”

“It’s been a busy life.” She laughed settling in her favourite spot on his chest. “But it was your idea to have another kid in our 40s.”

“My idea?” Javier laughed incredulously. “You brought it up!”

“No, I was just saying that I might not be able to have another one at that age.”

“Because you wanted one.”

“For you! I already had one kid.”

“Excuse me, we already had one.” He argued playfully, Javier had long ago laid claim to being the father of their oldest daughter, it didn’t matter they bore no blood relation.  

“You know what I mean, you’d yet to experience the pleasures of sleep deprivation, the terrible twos, potty training, endless recitals, school bake sales…”

“The crooked PTA.” He grumbled.

Ana snorted a laugh. “Christmases, quinceañera, prom…”

“Thank-you, cariño. It was a good idea.”

“Yeah, it was.”

Javier smirked, “Ha, so you admit; your idea.”

She rolled her eyes and slapped his chest lightly. “Using your bullshit interrogation techniques on me?”

“I never got to be good cop.” He whined jokingly.

“You still aren’t, you’re a pandejo cop.”

“I’m not a cop, haven’t been for a long time.”

“Right now you’re…” she paused. She had her clinic, she’d done this before with her oldest daughter, but Javier had been Hels’ primary caregiver. He’d retired from the DEA then turned fatherhood into his new life’s work. She knew he’d quietly been struggling with the change. So she feel back onto an old joke of theirs not wanting to sour the mood. “A stay-at-home sex god.”

“Finally, I can just be a kept man.” He joked playing lightly with her wavy dark hair.

Their conversation died for a moment, but they remained cuddled together. The glass French balcony doors to their beautiful hotel suite allowing the city lights to cast patterns on their skin. She played with the long thin silver chain he sometimes wore around his neck. It had been a gift from their oldest daughter many years ago, at the bottom was a round silver dog tag with the word ‘Honcho’ engraved in it. Finally, she broke the silence with a question Javier had been asking all week. One she’d assured him of relentlessly, one that now that the day was here hard worried the edges of her mind. “She’s going to be okay right Javi? She’s so far from home.”

 “She will, cariño, she's strong and clever like her mama.” He said planting a light kiss on the top of her head. And uttering lightly, “It will be ok. I promise.” They held each other as they fell asleep.

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

The California sun flooded the hotel room the next morning.   She slipped out of bed, Javier wasn’t there, but that didn’t worry her. Yesterday he’s deemed the in-room coffee unacceptable. She was sure he was downstairs getting them coffees from the little café across the street from the hotel. She wondered if she’d be able to see him darting across the intersection from the balcony. She grabbed the first piece of clothing she could find, his white button-up shirt from last night. It covered her like a short dress. She quickly closed a couple button and stepped out onto the balcony, her eyes were searching the street below for his thick salt and pepper locks when she heard the hotel open and door close behind her.

Javier met her on the balcony his eyes raking very slowly over her barley clad figure as he handed her a coffee cup. “Mi Renia. You out here in that… it reminds me of our time in Key West.”’

She smiled at her sweet Javier as she took the cup from him. Biting her lip playfully. “Remind me? What happened, I can’t recall…”

His hand caressed down her back when it found her ass he pulled back, giving it a quick firm slap. “Bad girl, mi amour. That was the top floor of a beach resort not downtown San Francisco.”

“If you squint, I think you can see the ocean that way.” She squeaked in surprise as he took her cup setting it on the little balcony table before picking her up throwing her over his shoulder in one swift motion. He was fireman carrying her back to the bed. “Careful old man, I don’t want you to hurt your back.” She teased.

“You’re asking for it you know?” His voice deep and commanding as he tossed her on the bed.

“No…” she said, tossing her hair back coyly, as if this hadn’t been exactly what she wanted. Then she let out a yelp as his hand found her lightly exposed butt.

Then Javier pushed her over pinning her arms above her head. Then he attacked her with his lip kissing her mouth then her neck and finally to her breast punctuating their playful tussle with a light bite to her nipple. “Careful, then mi amour.”

“Why?” She taunted “What are you going to do, you are retired remember, you can’t even arrest me.” He couldn’t technically in Columbia either but that wasn’t the point.

“Citizen’s arrest. Disturbing the peace.” His eyes glanced at the two untouched coffee cups on the balcony. “Wasting a very nice americano.”

“Oh no.” She said without remorse, her hands already unbuttoning his shirt. Her mouth at the base of his neck again. When her hand found the bulge in his pants smirked up at him. “Maybe there’s something I could do to get off with just a warning?”

He grabbed her wrists pinning her to the bed once more. “We’ll add bribery to that.”

“Is that a no?” He thought for a moment. Usually, he liked to have an idea before they played their kinky games. But his wife had caught him off guard this morning. And he did have actual plans for their day. Ones that involved sightseeing and a great dinner. A show. But Javier Peña was still Javier Peña, which meant he always could make time for a little sex. And if he could turn their entire day into a long game of teasing, secret touches and foreplay well…

He picked up a pillow threw it on the floor beside the bed and pointed to it. “Get on your knees now, take my cock out and we’ll see how well you do. Then we can discuss your punishment for tonight...”

“Si, Javi.” Was the last thing she said before the lips found his cock. He tossed his head back with a groan of pleasure. Javier Peña was finally a man who enjoyed his vacations.

Read their story from the beginning : The Ghosts of Bogotá

Taglist: @awkwardpaws @bardot49 @midnights-temptation

[midnights-temptation]

Ideal partner traits

Dark brown eyes with a puppy dog look

A broad back

Intelligent

Competent

Kind

Loyal, especially to friends prone to poor decision-making

Supportive

The PEK™

Passionate

Dark curls peeking out from underneath a standard cap

A broad back

Tactical genius

Skilled sniper

Expert pilot

Thick fingers

Tummy view from underneath a tac vest

BDE (Accurate)

A healthy supply of zip ties

Thick, pouty lips

A broad back

Tight khakis

Goes by the call sign 'Catfish'

Full government name is Francisco Morales

[kokoluwie]

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ᪥

Act I : Guarding Her Secret

4.9k | Pero Tovar x archer!ofc

summary: Deciding to stay at The Great Wall of China might just be the best decision Pero Tovar has ever made. Peace after annihilating the Tao Tei? Maybe. In love with a comrade? Absolutely. Retirement plan? Secured.

tags: rated T. established friendship. enemies to friends to lovers. forced proximity. pining. hurt/comfort. Pero is soft for her. traditional family. language barrier. humor. fluff. comfort. Pero understands Mandarin to an extend. historical and cultural inaccuracies are mine. not beta-ed. (tags will be updated as the story progresses)

a/n: this is a whole comfort c-drama at this point lol. watched both mulan animations, who rules the world and tgw while writing this. hopefully I did the characters and Chinese culture justice. enjoy!

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The walls blur past as he traverses the long corridor of the fortress. The shining black metal plates hanging onto his armour clank with rich sound of war, filling the silence of the morning.

Up the set of stairs, he slips through and blends in with his comrades; the ones proudly wearing a bear emblem on their chests.

The belly of the fortress rumbles under the feet of hundreds of soldiers, marching with purpose to the top of the wall for the daily drill formation routine. Pero Tovar’s least favourite part of the day.

Deliberately slowing down to let others through, he stops at a corner and waits for the coast to clear before going the opposite direction. A smirk tugs at his lips as he walks down the dimly-lit passage like it was built for him.

Making a sharp turn at the end of the corridor, Pero abruptly stops in his track as he comes face-to-face with a figure in red, standing no taller than his chin. The Eagle Troop’s most valuable soldier—now staring up at him with her piercing eyes. He chuckles.

“Mi amiga, what brought you to my quarters?”

“Running off again.” She stands firmly on her feet, arms folded across her chest—commanding, and unyielding, as if she holds authority over him; which in some ways the man in black knows she does.

“Me? Running off?” He huffs, as if the mere thought of it hurts his pride. “No, no no. You got it wrong. I’m..” His eyes wanders over to the cobblestone walls, the molds looking incredibly interesting at the moment. “I’m..”

When his eyes land on her again, he takes in her serious demeanor. Such a fiery small thing. Pero puff his cheeks and widen his eyes in exaggeration; the only way he knew to make her laugh. The amused scoff followed by the soft giggle has the corner of his lips tugging upwards in satisfaction.

He loves it—that gentle voice and sweet smile of hers, hiding behind the face of a strong warrior. How lucky he was. To be the only man inside the fortress blessed with this sight. A spectacle that could make the Tao Tei themselves explode from the radiance.

“You know me too well.” He chuckles unapologetically. Leaning closer with a smug grin, he makes it obvious that he towers over her—though that says nothing on who holds actual power over the other. “Why? Will you tell on me, amiga?”

His self-assured sultry drawl has her rolling her eyes in annoyance. “There’s no point in doing that. But you’re coming with me.”

Heat creeps up his neck when she took his hand, letting himself being dragged around. He can act all confident and sly; but the moment a little Spaniard skin of his touches hers… the man is a goner.

“Where are you taking me?” He stares at the back of her striking red bascinet, the smug smile reflecting on the iron plate showing he doesn’t give a damn.

Hell, he’d let her lead him to his demise.

The soft splash from their boots hitting the puddles of water echoes through the space. The air is damp and smells of fresh mold from poor ventilation. It’s a place the soldiers call the ‘reward house’. For none ever has time to visit it more than once a week.

The smirk on Pero’s face only widen as he takes in the sight before him, connecting the dots and letting his imaginations run wild. “The lads’ bathhouse, amiga?”

Their steps halt before they could slip inside the pool of water at the center of the room. Pero notes their still intertwined fingers, her hand in his bigger one, both rough and scarred; a testament to their physically demanding job.

He decides to keep his mouth shut for the first time, not wanting to give her any reason to pull away. He likes it this way.

“Remember that night?” She asks, her voice a note higher than the one she uses to present herself in public. Her real voice. The one reserved for her closest friends within the Nameless Order—those aware of her real self.

His gaze shifts onto her, the dim lighting allowing him to admire the silhouette of her profile. The shape of her eyes, her lashes, the bridge of her nose.

Jia Li.

Zhang Jia Li.

That’s her name. A perfect name, he reckons.

Beautiful.

Skilled.

And the best archer he’s ever known.

Something fluttered in his chest then. Pero’s gaze immediately snaps back to her eyes, not daring to go any lower.

“You mean some months ago?” He chuckles as he recalls the event, swallowing down the rush of emotions threatening to spill. “Every detail, amiga. One wouldn’t forget such a sight.”

Midnight. Last day of the week. A soldier in fiery red armour, sneaked inside the bathhouse with practiced ease. Every other soldier had gone to sleep, except the ones staying on guard. The hygiene haven was quiet except for the sound of crickets chirping in the forest outside the walls.

Not wasting a second, the figure discarded her helmet and armour, placing them neatly by the pool. A safe distance; close enough to reach if things go wrong, but not too close to risk it falling.

The water lapped against her legs as she unwrapped the bandage around her chest; each layer unveiled providing less and less tension against the area. And finally, she could breathe—her lungs filled to their full capacity for the first time in days.

She lowered her body into the pool, letting water engulf her whole. The contrast of temperatures were extreme, but her will to get rid of the built-up odor was greater than the chill running down her spine.

Her jet black hair that fell right above her shoulders stayed afloat, spreading like ink on the surface before following her down into the warm, relaxing bath. The greatest form of luxury in these walls.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she scrubbed her skin and scalp, the gentle ripples of water washing away the week’s worth of soil and grime. She could feel the tension in her muscles loosening, thanks to the heat—providing her much relief after days of hardwork.

She pushed herself up to the surface as she was done; when her ears alerted her of a loud splash from the other side of the pool. The new weight submerging caused a wave of water to push her back against the stone wall.

‘Oh no.’

Eyes wide open in alarm, she was met with the sight of a male’s body sitting across the pool, busily scrubbing with a rag. His head above the surface and the dim lighting protected her from his view. At least for a moment.

With her survival instinct running high, she dived towards a corner at the farther end, legs frantically kicking the water; careful to not hit the surface. She prayed he wouldn’t find her.

He couldn’t find her.

By the time she reached a safe spot and stayed underwater, her lungs were already screaming for air.

‘Hold it. Hold it!’

With ribs squeezing the life out of her, bubbles began escaping her nose. She hit her chest repeatedly with her fist, containing the coughing fit threatening to erupt.

Water splashes filled the terrifying silence, and before she knew it, a pair of big strong hands grabbed her arms, forcing her up.

“Hermano. How long have you held your breath?”

Her chest rapidly expanded and contracted as she finally breathed. Caught or not, it didn’t matter when she almost met Yanluo Wang himself.

“Dios, you could have died down there.”

Her vision cleared, and before her stood a man with a gaze so sharp it could penetrate through her. He was bigger. Broader. Tanned skin. With short wet slick hair that falls above his eyebrows; and a vertical scar that goes down his left eye. The exact opposite of the Chinese men she came to know.

His eyes roamed over her face, both of concern and admiration. He took in her dark brown eyes, slanting just right at the corners. Then her nose that seemed like it was begging to be tapped. And finally, those parted lips gasping for air.

“Chinos are pretty.” He smirked before letting her free from his grasp and taking a step back.

She registered his words, mentally thanking Sir Ballard for having taught her English. It seemed the man hadn’t realised how out of place she was to be in the men’s bathhouse. That made her heart rate even out a little.

But just as she thought she was safe, his eyes trailed down and lingered on the surface of the pool; where her bust line was. The pounding of her heart roared in her ears yet again, heating them up from sheer panic.

As their eyes locked again, she noticed the lines in between his eyebrows deepening. Her breath hitched; body going rigid and still. The once relaxing warm bath was now a pool of heated stones stinging her skin. A retribution for her sins.

Lies. Deceptions. Dishonour.

“Are you really a man..?” His low breathy voice sounded like a viper’s hiss to her ears.

“Of course I’m a man.” The words came out defensive—a practiced lie. One she’s been telling since the day she received her calling, at nine. But at that moment, her chest voice did so little to back her argument.

“Well…” His gaze dropped again. Pero glanced at his chest—then at hers beneath the water. His rough, calloused, fingertips traced his toned pecs like he’s discovering human anatomy for the first time. “Mine don’t look quite like that.” He concluded, tone curious more than accusing.

She wondered then, if he was dense, or just plain stupid.

“You remember everything?” She turns to him with a look of horror.

The grin on his face only grows wider. “As I’ve said. Every detail.” He whispers. “You have a strange talent for leaving impressions, amiga. From saving a man trying to drown himself, to seeing a beautiful face, and discovering a chest that didn’t match that of a man’s.

Before his eyes could land on her chest bound under the iron plates, her knee sends him flying straight into the pool first.

“Hey!”

Pero struggles to find his footings with the heavy armour pulling him down into the water.

“I brought you here because I thought you could use a bath. Since you know…” She swats the air away from her nose. “It’s been months.”

With a grin, the menace in red waltz out of the bathhouse; leaving the grumbling European wet and soaked like a cat inside the warm tub—muttering things she doesn’t understand.

She marches down the endless corridor, passing by companies of soldiers as they head the opposite way. The heels of her boots hit the floor with purpose. The playful victorious smile gracing her lips gradually fading as her mind is redirected to her main task for the day.

Despite her unwavering discipline, memories of her days inside the walls resurfaced like an unwelcomed guest. A distraction on an eventful day. The ones witnessed by the millions of stones holding the fortress together—now watching with silent judgement as she pass them by.

Her memories with him.

It was the year of the rabbits, and clearly, the rabbits were not on her side.

Days after the incident at the bathhouse, the elite soldier, also the pride of the Zhang family, was convinced she wouldn’t lock eyes with the man who had seen her in her state of nature ever again. Not within the sea of soldiers flooding every corner of the fortress.

How wrong she was.

For each time she told herself it was the very last time, his disturbingly handsome face would then make an appearance.

Again and again, like the blisters in her hands.

It started off with curious and skeptical glances exchanged whenever they shared a path. Neither would utter a word. Both pretending to be strangers. And, frankly, they were.

Then, during meals. He would sit with the Bear Troops, breathing in the food like they were his last. If anything, it was the only session he never skipped.

No matter where she turned, that brooding soldier with a trademark scar would happen to be there as well.

At some point, Jia Li tried to convince herself that it was all in her head—the reason her eyes kept finding him; that him orbiting her was due to the fact that he was a foreigner. A rare sight within the walls that was used to seeing people who shared her features.

Though all hopes were broken when they were assigned to be partners—training a new batch of soldiers and preparing for possible Tao Tei threats in 60 years to come.

Yes. Partners.

What are the odds?

If she believed being in different troops would lower the chance of seeing him, well, the fate deities clearly had other plans to conduct this play called life—and she was their reluctant puppet.

Both of them worked efficiently early on. Never speaking much unless necessary. Just getting their jobs done; with a silent mutual agreement that whatever had happened between them should be buried deep under the Yellow Sea.

Thus, the two started from square one.

As rivals.

Instead of two fully-grown warriors working together with utmost professionalism.

They were responsible for providing the new recruits with the basics of combatting; teaching the fundamentals of each troop before they are assigned to their own colour and life-long comrades.

It was simple, in the beginning. All they had to do was follow the teaching curriculum set by the general.

It all changed, when their apprentice progressed so quickly. They mastered everything taught to them within a few months.

Hence, the two instructors had to think of other things to teach—and they were not always in agreement with each other.

Especially when Pero kept insisting that they should learn to throw around axes as decoy. Jia Li, on the other hand, believed it was too early for a stunt of that level; taking into account the young recruits’ safety above all else.

Despite being known as an elite warrior, she was not ruthless when it comes to training her students—much to the Spaniard’s disappointment.

“What’s a little danger? The Tao Tei will not go easy on them. They will bite their heads off, if anything.” He argued.

“They’ve only trained for a couple of months. They could barely shoot arrows while riding a horse.” She said, glancing at their students now patiently waiting for the next order.

“Do you have any idea how we Spaniards train?”

“Not any worse than how I did to get to where I am now, I’m sure.”

“Right. You’re an elite soldier.” He scoffed, jaw flexing in irritation. “Then why are you going against your own rules and traditions?” His finger tapped mockingly against her chest plate.

Grabbing his wrist with her equally strong hand, she stopped him before he could place another spot of dirt on her polished armour.

“When have we not?” She stared into his eyes. Both equally dark and menacing. “They’re 15. They’ll be 75 in 60 years. They might never meet the Tao Tei.”

Harshly letting go of his wrist, she turned back to face their students, taking in their young faces, untouched by war and the brutality of it.

“Let this generation rest.” She said under her breath, loud enough for his ears.

“Class dismissed.”

A few yards away, General Lin was watching them; sighing at their never-ending quarrels.

Pero stepped closer after the students left, glaring down at his partner. “I’m not letting any of our soldiers die out there because their teachers decided to go easy on them.” He spat, voice sounding like venom.

“If you can’t handle how I do my job, then I suggest you ask the general herself for a different partner.” He warned with a dangerous tone before walking past her.

And so..

They stayed as teaching partners until now.

“Laoshi! How do we strangle a taller opponent?” A recruit asked one day. The younger among his peers.

Jia Li grins, cracking her knuckles. “Oh, that’s easy.” She winked at the recruit. “Watch and learn, son.”

Before Pero could react, the woman jumped, somersaulting in the air before kicking against the stone barrier as a boost. One wrong move, and she’d be boneless 20 feet to the ground. Her arm looped around his neck, but her co-instructor was faster to grab her waist and pull her against his chest.

Her eyes grew wide—so did his. She could feel his chest heaving through their heavy armours, panting as if his life had just flashed before his eyes.

The man was frozen before exploding in anger and anxiety, squeezing her tighter in his arms. “Can you stop trying to kill yourself??”

With her arms around his neck, their faces were barely inches away—but none making any effort to pull away.

Her gaze fell onto the deep furrow of his eyebrows, noting the way his eyes frantically roamed over her face. It was the same look her mother had given her when she first fell off from a ladder trying to pick a peach from its tree; or when she came home with scratches after going for a hunt with her father.

A strange feeling welled-up in her chest. One she immediately pushed away.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I was trying to kill you.” She argued. Hotheaded as always.

Pero huffed and placed her down onto her feet. A little too gently for a soldier who could ‘take care of herself’. “Congrats. Another one of these and you’ll actually kill me.” He mumbled begrudgingly.

His eyes didn’t leave her, wondering how this tiny woman could have him on edge with a snap of a finger.

There was no use of worrying over someone as skilled as her. She knew what she was doing. And he’s aware of her capabilities—better than anyone else.

But somehow, he couldn’t help but care.

A little too much.

Walking down the corridor towards his quarters after class, Pero’s steps were brisk, determined to claim his dinner and call it a day. That was, until he turned at a corner, only to hear his name being mentioned in a conversation. A gossip, in other words.

“They’re always at each other’s necks. It’s a surprise they haven’t killed each other.” Said Recruit Hua—ever the big-mouth.

‘Tch. This kid.’ Pero shook his head, still remaining unseen. His footsteps had turned as light as a shadow, interested to know where this was going.

“Did you see how worried he was just now? I think he’s into Zhang Laoshi.” Said another; Recruit Yao—speaking mostly with his face. The teenagers giggled as if they had just made the biggest discovery of the dynasty.

Pero’s face scrunched up in surprise—but not exactly grossed out. With a sigh, he crept up behind the two and smacked the backs of their heads simultaneously with quick flicks of his wrists.

Hua and Yao yelped and rubbed the spot on their heads—both gasping when they turn their heads to find the ex-mercenary standing behind them. Their eyes were wide, mouths agape as if seeing a ghost.

Pero clutched his waist, standing in the middle of the hallway like a disapproving father. What they didn’t know, was the fact that the man was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing and break his stern persona. He relished it—scaring the kids.

“Tovar Laoshi!” They stood straight, eyes wide in fear as if they’d be executed on the spot.

Deciding to scare them a little more, Pero glowered down at them and took a few steps closer. “Who am I into, hm?” He asked, voice dangerously low. It triggered a memory in the kids’ heads.

“Uh..”

He shook his head, feigning disappointment as he walked past them. “You should be training. Not starting gossips.” They frantically nodded.

However, the kids, being nosy as always, spoke before they could think; breaking their own promise within ten seconds. “Is it true, Laoshi??”

“Do you like Zhang Laoshi??”

But the man had disappeared down the hallway before they could catch the tiny grin on his face.

A small smile tugs at her lips from the distant memory; the latter having been told by her best friend, General Lin herself. She had been lurking around as usual—keeping the soldiers in check—and happened to witness this little encounter. One that never fails to send a flutter in the archer’s chest.

Reaching the back exit of the fortress, Jia Li silently nods to a group of female soldiers already set on their horses—now focused on the mission at hand.

She fetches her own beloved horse, Lí. He was big and strong with a beautiful jet black coat. “Hey, big boy.” She coos, affectionately scratching his neck. Lí nickers and nudges her other hand, making her chuckle.

“Here.” She feeds him a date; a little treat before they start their journey, knowing he was already fed with his usual diet.

Leading the small group of female soldiers, she clutches the rein of her horse and navigates through the thick forest—getting further away from the Hebei section of the fortress and towards Beijing before ultimately arriving in Tianjin.

Pero is done cleaning up after a while, still grumbling under his breath as he heads out of the bathhouse. He’s already late for the scheduled training with their students—not that he minded. He would skip it in a heartbeat if he could.

But when he reaches the training ground, his teaching partner is nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” He asks first thing—not forgetting the fact that she was a man to everyone else.

The recruits put their hands together and bow their heads in respect before one of them raises his head to answer.

“Zhang Laoshi said you’re taking over today’s class. So we trained like he told us to while waiting for you.”

“What? Where did he go?” Pero frowns. She was just there with him earlier.

“He didn’t tell us.” Says another.

Unaware of the inner turmoil brewing inside their teacher, the recruits immediately shifts their focus on the training. “Tovar Laoshi. Can you show us the axe spinning stunt again?” The man could only nod and fulfill his duty.

The whole session, Pero was distracted, his mind running miles per second. Physically, he’s there with his students; but mentally, he’s running down the corridors in search of the archer.

Except that she is no longer inside the fortress. And he has no idea.

Where did she go?

She never skipped her classes.

Only I did.

Is it a mission?

Did I upset her?

Or is she angry at me for admitting that I’d seen her in her most vulnerable?’

He can’t help but care. And frankly, he has made it his business to know if something is going on with her.

She’s his friend. That much is clear now—at least to him.

And so after dismissing his class, Pero chases down the only other woman inside the fortress that he had spoken to since arriving in the Land of the Dragon. The person who has eyes on every corner of The Great Wall.

“General Lin. I need help. It’s urgent.” He calls, sounding like a man who just brought home an injured comrade from war.

“What can I help you with?” She turns to face him—voice steady, shoulders relaxed, with her hands resting behind her back. The General in electric blue stands tall with authority and command, her elegance and grace never lost on her.

Her eyes observes the Spanish soldier’s restless and troubled demeanour, taking in the sweat covering his face and his uneven breathing. “Is everything alright?”

Pero looks at her whilst catching his breath. She is ever-captivating; at least according to his old friend, William—who had gone home months ago to fight alongside a new flag. Though not as captivating as his Jia— ehem, Captain Zhang.

He takes a deep breath before finally speaking, “Is it possible for someone to be angry if you remind them of an old memory?”

“Depends on the memory itself, I believe. Why?” Her eyebrows cock up in amusement.

“I think I’ve upset someone.” He says, voice lowering.

“Are you talking about Captain Zhang?” She asks, holding back a smirk.

His eyes widens a fraction. How the hell did she catch on so quickly? “I—maybe… Yes.”

“What about this memory?”

“It’s.. It’s not for you to know.” He says; voice level but with a hint of defensiveness laying underneath. He’s not about to repeat his mistakes.

“Perhaps you should be more careful with your words around women.” Lin advises.

Pero nods, agreeing with her before his body stills. Snapping his head up to look at her again, his voice comes out as hushed panic.

“You knew that Captain Zhang’s a woman??”

That brings a chuckle out of her. “Every commander knows. Including some female soldiers. She was supposed to be a part of the Cranes since she’s a woman. But even as a fresh recruit, we all saw far greater potential in her as part of the Eagle troop. Her skills in archery is second to none. Truly living up to her name.”

Pero nods, knowing how she meant.

Zhang.

To draw a bow. An archer.

There was not a more fitting troop for her other than the Eagles; inflicting death and sufferings from high above.

Pero lets out a soft huff. He had been worried about keeping her identity a secret for nothing. Just when he thought it was their secret.

Seeing the man’s growing irritation, General Lin interrupts his inner monologue. “We asked her to keep it a secret for her own safety. Being the only woman in the Eagle Troop is not exactly ideal.”

A surge of protectiveness swells in his chest. It was a punch straight to his gut—being reminded of the fact that she’s surrounded by thousands of men for the past couple of decades; each one with different characters and intentions—both good and bad.

His nose flares, taking another deep breath to push the thought away. Jia Li’s whereabouts is his utmost priority at the moment.

“So you know where she is?” He asks again, pressing her for a straight answer.

General Lin nods her head. “Yes, but it is a confidential matter.” The scowl on his face shows his irritation on the secrecy. “She’s safe. I promise.”

“She better be. That woman is a magnet for trouble” He mutters under his breath. Knowing he won’t get the response he wanted from the General, Pero turns to leave, already thinking of another way to find his friend.

Her voice echoes down the empty hall as she calls for him. Pero turns, hoping she isn’t trying to stop him from finding Jia Li—or he will definitely break a rule today.

“Will you be joining the Lunar New Year Eve festival, tonight?”

“What’s that?” His frustration from earlier is replaced with confusion.

“Most of the soldiers are leaving for Tianjin this afternoon. You should come along. It will be quite enjoyable.”

“Huh… I’ll think about it.” He says before disappearing down the corridor. He’s curious about this celebration, sure.

But it doesn’t seem right to go without her.

“Tovar Laoshi!!”

The man stops in his track as a flood of stinky, unbathed teens race over to him from the other end of the corridor. Eyes bulging in terror, Pero scrambles down the other way—only to be met with a dead end.

“Mierda.”

He frantically turns around in search for another escape route when the yelling for his name grow louder with every passing second. The broken pieces of stones rumble under his feet as twenty little goblins head over his way.

The stench—a mix of the dampness of the fortress, as well as twenty different body odours of boys hitting puberty—starts to pollute his sense of smell.

“Dios…”

Face scrunching up in disgust, Pero put his hands up in front of him as he backs up against the wall, not letting the kids get any closer to him. Not when he just bathed this morning.

“Tovar Laoshi!!”

“I’m right in front of you. No need to shout.” He sighs.

“Tovar Laoshi. Come to Tianjin with us!” One of them says excitedly.

“No.” He rejects with a deadpanned look, not even considering it.

“Please! You have to celebrate new year with us!” They all nod, staring up at him with hopeful glints in their eyes.

“And why should I, hm?”

“Because we can’t find Zhang Laoshi so you’re our only option. Plus, it’s only once a year!”

“Then I’ll go next year.”

They look at each other, whispering in Mandarin. Too soft for his ears to catch and understand the words. ‘What are they up to, now?’ He eyes them.

“But,” Pero’s gaze averts to Hua who speaks up. “Every other instructors are going with their students. Our villages are too far away to reach by tonight. So we can’t celebrate new year eve with our families.”

“Yeah.” The others agree in unison, backing up their comrade.

When Pero turns to look at all his students again, they’re already looking at him with pitiful eyes, some going as far as batting their eyelashes and putting their hands together.

“Are you serious—” He scoffs in disbelief. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he questions his luck before glaring at them.

“Fine.” He points at the lads, noting their dirty faces and uniforms from hours of training. “But in one condition.”

That’s how Pero Tovar ends up in Tianjin for the Spring Festival.

Thank you so much for reading! Feedbacks are greatly appreciated. Let me know what you think <3

🏷️.⋆˚࿔ : @shadowqueen2024 @cherrycokeispunk @milla-frenchy @titabel @604to647 @halfbloodprincesthings @brittmb115 @lotusbxtch @patternedlantern @holacia3 @sawymredfox (thank you for your support on the preview! It really motivated me to write. just let me know if anyone wants to be added or removed from the list <3)

[vodkaandpizza]

Now where has this little Pero Fic been hiding! It's great. With Mulan vibes and a really well written Pero. What more could you ask for?

[bardot49]

Fight or Flight

Chapter 1

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC (Jackson era)

Warnings: Themes of anxiety, PTSD, blood, gore, death, illness, injury, canon violence, cursing, eventual smut, explicit

Tags: Jackson!era Joel, Soft Joel Miller, Moody Joel Miller, Joel miller x AFAB reader, joel x female reader, Joel Miller x OC, Joel Miller slow burn

See note for more information at the end of this chapter

Masterlist here

Chapter 1

Chapter summary

Flora is rescued by Joel after being taken hostage by raiders. They get to know one another better in the immediate aftermath

Flora screws her eyes shut, trying to block out what is happening around her. She tries but fails to think of other things. She had been on a routine patrol with Hamish, a kind man with a twinkly smile in his late sixties. Joel Miller was following behind, he normally isn't on their patrol but was due to help Hamish with fixing some fences near the dam. Joel was busy doing other repairs in the town that morning so he said he'd catch up to them after lunch. She must admit she was intimidated by Joel, he commanded such respect around Jackson. She wasn't sure if he even knew who she was before this morning but he said her name and she thought she saw a hint of a smile when greeting them in the stables earlier.

After a couple of hours of riding, Hamish and her were ambushed by two raiders when taking a break near a forest. She had wanted to stop to pick some wild garlic and mushrooms. She liked foraging when she had a chance as she could normally trade with the kitchen staff or the school teacher in exchange for art supplies. They were completely blindsided, both getting whacked on the head from behind and were currently tied up with their hands bound in front of them, the friction from the ropes making her wrists increasingly sore and red. A groan to her right brings her back to what is happening. She glances at Hamish and is horrified to see he is bleeding heavily from his temple. She steals a look at the two raiders. They are emaciated and filthy and she could see that their hair was matted and clothes soiled. They hungrily shove her and Hamish's lunches in their mouths, chewing loudly and gulping down their water.

She closes her eyes again, but she knows it is only a matter of time before they focus their attention on her. As if they could read her mind, she feels one of them grab her braid roughly, prompting her to open her eyes reluctantly. She could feel the horrendous stench of him as she tries not to breathe in. The raider says to the other "Look what we have here, we're going to have fun with this one" and traces his jagged fingernail down the side of her face. She feels the scratch stinging on her skin. "Quiet aren't you" he says in a creepy way, grabbing her chin, trying to make eye contact with her. The smell from his breath is putrid and half his teeth are missing, the ones he does have are yellow. The other raider smirks back "We've no need for the old man, might as well put him out of his misery". The raider stays right in front of her, breathing heavily and ogling her. She keeps her eyes on the ground, she feels so repulsed she wants to move but is stuck, she desperately prays for someone to come find them.

The other raider has a knife and is taunting Hamish, viciously hurting him where he is injured. A gunshot startles her, the raider who had been standing in front of her slumps on top of her. She couldn't see anything but she hears Hamish howl in agony. There is another gunshot and the second raider falls on the ground with a thud. There's silence for a moment, her own breath the only thing she hears. She dares not open her eyes until she feels the weight of the raider pulled off of her and looks up to see Joel's deep brown eyes looking at her in concern. She didn't hear what he said so just looks at him in a daze. "Flora, are you ok?" he repeats. "Hamish…" is all she can say. She glances over and sees a puddle of blood in front of him - so much blood. He had been stabbed by the raider. Joel had been untying her and she kneels down on the ground trying to help Hamish. She pulls off her jacket, trying to stop the blood gushing out of his abdomen. She franticly holds her jacket over the wound. Joel crouches beside her and lays his hand on hers gently, saying "He's gone". She slowly stands up and her hands start trembling, "No, that can't be, he can't…". He guides her away towards the horses, gently holding her arm, "Stay here a while, I'll clear up". She gives one more look at Hamish lying there and nods. Joel told her not to look so she stays away. Her heart starts to thump loudly and she vomits up the contents of her breakfast. There's blood everywhere, in her hair, her hands, her clothes. She has to get away from here she thinks and stumbles away and starts to run. She couldn't get the images out of her head but she thought it shouldn't bother her as much after all these years. She was always very sensitive and things affected her. Hamish was a mainstay in Jackson, he even dressed up as Santa for the kids each Christmas Eve and was a father figure to many people there. Her anxious thoughts take over and she doesn't look where she's going and keeps running over the fields. Her only thought is to escape from the situation until she ends up getting drenched in a sudden thunder shower. She is frozen on the spot in complete shock, the rain drenching her. Eventually, she looks back and sees Joel in the distance sheltering under the trees but she is stuck. When the rain stops he rushes over to her, darkness in his eyes. He berates her "Why the fuck did you do that? You'll catch your death if you're not careful, stupid reckless girl" he says in frustration. "What if there were others around? They would have killed you and it would only be your fault" he pauses, immediately regretting what he said. She keeps her head up and misses Hamish and his kindness all the more at that moment. "Sorry for saying that" he says gently, trying to reach out to her, his eyes softening. He is genuinely remorseful but she is still hurt. She couldn't look at him and tries to keep the tears in. She is in complete shock at what had happened, she knows she had been reckless with how she reacted. He tentatively puts his arms around her and holds her for a moment. Despite his outburst, she immediately feels safer in his arms. He releases her, resting his two hands on her shoulders and gently asks "Are you able to ride home? She nods and tries to be strong in front of him. Her clothes are soaking wet and she doesn't even have her jacket. She sees Joel had placed it over Hamish's face. He takes off his own jacket and puts it over her shoulders without saying any more. She feels the weight of his jacket and is grateful for the comfort it gives her. She has no idea what he did with the raider's corpses and she doesn't want to know. "We better head back to Jackson, I'll ask the others to bring back the body". She sees there are more dark clouds on the horizon and nods dumbly, climbing on her horse and starts riding.

As they continue to ride along she hears him say "You ok?" She is so lost in her thoughts of Hamish's death. Her head is pounding and she had noticed her chest had began to feel tight and sore. She takes a deep breath and tries to snap out of it, answering "Yep". "Look, its ok not to be ok" He looks at her with a crease on his brow. She nods, as her tears threaten to rise up again. "Its just so unfair, he didn't deserve to die". He nods this time, "Hamish knew the risks like that rest of us but we have to keep patrolling to keep everyone in Jackson safe". A single tear rolls down her cheek but she quickly brushes it away and clears her throat. He studies her in concern and regrets being insensitive towards her. But the moment has passed so he just says "Do you want a drink?" She takes a swig of the whiskey gladly, sighing as the golden liquid warms her throat. Absentmindedly she says whiskey is her favourite, it soothes her. They continue to ride along side each other in companionable silence until they see the walls of Jackson down in the valley below. She feels a sense of relief as they go through the gates. 'Its good to be home' she thinks to herself.

Joel jumps down from his horse and Flora's taken aback when he rushes to her side to help her in getting down from her horse. Before yesterday she had never been alone with him or even spoke to him so they weren't even friends, why should he give her a wreck? He asks the people keeping guard above the entrance if they'd seen Tommy and they said he could be at the stables. She knows he's eager to find Tommy so she puts on a brave face, saying she's fine, he should go find him. He gives her one more look of concern and turns on his heel, striding quickly in search of his brother, who he finds with a group of others in the stables. "Brother, you're back! What happened?" Tommy exclaims. "Where are the others?" Joel tells them about Hamish. They walk back towards the entrance and she suddenly feels faint, her breathing getting more and more difficult. Tommy notices her wheezing and Joel agrees that she should go to the nurse to be checked out as soon as possible. They were both so tall compared to her and she was feeling weaker by the minute. She tries to explain in a croakily way, "Asthma… need medicine". Both men look at her in alarm, "You take her to see Nurse Sam and I'll bring the horses back to the stables. We'll have to head back out to bring back Hamish before long" Tommy says to Joel. Joel quickly points out where to go in the map. Tommy gives her a pat on the shoulder and walks off with the horses. That was how she ends up walking with Joel with his strong arms around her, holding her up. A few people give them curious looks but Joel is focused, there wasn't any time to explain. They arrive at the medical building and when Joel sees the stairs he doesn't hesitate to scoop her up in his arms. Even with her breathing difficult, she couldn't help but notice the masculine earthy scent of him, whiskey and musk.

Nurse Sam checks Flora's temperature and Joel fills her in what had happened. Joel turns away as Sam removes her outer layers of clothing. Sam was aware she has asthma and fetches the Nebuliser to help her ragged breathing. She puts some antibacterial cream on her scratches and checks the bump on her head and places the mask over her face, the machine pumping in mist gently. "Flora will need to rest here for the next few hours, could you go to her house to bring in some things like a change of clothes?". Joel says of course whatever she needs, he gives one final glance at her and Sam gives a knowing smile. He makes his way to her house, he knows she lives next door to Dina and her grandmother Sally. He heard Ellie speak of her when they would call around to her house sometimes. It is a pretty house with flower pots at the front filled with geraniums and dahlias. He knocks on Dina's door and Ellie answers, "Fuck man, what happened?". Dina peers out the door and says "Is something wrong?" He explains the situation and Dina and Ellie try to find the spare key to her house. They look everywhere and Joel grows impatient. He finds a large rock and was just about to break the glass on the front door when he hears an excited squeal, "Got it!" He grabs the key and opens the door. He is surprised to see a selection of paintings on the wall. She is a talented artist. He had no idea but of course he didn't really ever have a proper conversation with her after all. Dina bounds down the stairs with a bag packed for her. "Make sure to tell her I'll visit her in a couple of hours, we're babysitting baby Joey at the moment". Joel smiles at the mention of his little nephew, with his mischievous smile and headful of dark curly hair.

Joel hurries back to the medical centre and is glad to see Flora has some colour back in her cheeks. She gives him a shy smile as he pulls up a chair next to the bed. "I'm sorry for leaving you on your own at the gates, I didn't realise you were so sick". She reaches out to hold his hand and says "I was trying to be brave". He tries not to notice how her blanket was draped over her body, how her skin on her shoulders and arms was so smooth and without imperfections. He thinks to himself 'Why are you thinking about her in that way, she would never be interested in you, old man. She's too good for you, too pure'. He looks deep into her eyes and said "glad you're here now, rest up". Nurse Sam comes back, taking out the pyjamas out of the bag. "Can you stay a while please? I need you here" she looks up at him pleadingly. "I'm here, don't worry". He leaves the room for a moment, to give her privacy. "She's all yours now" Sam says with a smile. He sits down on the chair again and clasps her hand in his own once more. "Sorry for being stupid" She says sleepily, the medicine had made her slightly lightheaded. "I'm sorry for saying that, I should have been more understanding". When there was no response, he gently called her name and her eyes were closed. Joel tries to get comfortable in the hard chair but he doesn't leave her hand go. Her hand is so soft and fits his own perfectly. The events of the day take their toll on him and he finds his eyes closing. For once he seems to have nice dreams. He suddenly opens his eyes again and its getting dark outside. He looks over at Flora and she is sleeping peacefully. He lets go of her hand as Ellie and Dina walk in and start smirking. He rolls his eyes at them as he leaves the medical centre.

The next morning Joel goes straight to the medical centre but nurse Sam tells him Flora went home late the previous evening, "A few days rest and she should be good as new" she says kindly. Noticing the concern on his face, despite his reputation of being a tough and grumpy man, Sam wondered if somehow this girl may come to mean something more to him than just another patrol partner. He feels strange about going to her house so early so he resolves to go there at lunchtime. He can't get her out of his mind. He's fifty six after all, has he developed a crush on her? Of course he had noticed her before the patrol, she was very attractive but he didn't know that much about her as she seemed to keep to herself a lot. He didn't ever remember seeing her in the bar or any other social gathering. After a hard morning's work of reinforcing timber rafters inside one of Jackson's more run down houses, Tommy and the others head off for lunch. Joel was just going to say it to Tommy when he asks if he going to check on her. Tommy encourages him to go and reminds him to bring a gift. Joel was so out of doing normal things like that, he didn't know what to get but Tommy suggested getting her some flowers.

Joel goes to the greenhouse and asks Sally if she could trade any flowers for something he could help with. Sally agreed, saying she needs help with putting up hooks for hanging baskets and Joel said he'd do it that evening. He was aware she works with Sally in the vegetable garden and greenhouse most days as well as being next door neighbours. Sally cheerily tells him Flora was feeling a little improved when she visited her earlier that morning and she knows exactly what she would like, showing him some pretty pink flowers in a pot called Cosmos.

He is apprehensive knocking on her door, he doesn't want to frighten her but when Flora answers she has a surprised yet warm smile for him. She loves the flowers, she knows their name and said they remind her of her grandmothers garden. She looks much better but is still coughing. She looks so much at ease in her own home, other times when he saw her before or after patrols she seemed jittery and timid. He tells her to sit down and he makes them both a cup of coffee. "Your paintings are great" he says in admiration as he hands her a cup and she thanks him shyly. He sits down on the other armchair and he notices there are some colourful balls of wool in a wooden basket near her and something partially finished on top. "Are you knitting something?" he enquires. "Oh, yes, a hat. I'm not very good at it I'm afraid, it's not turning out how I want it to" she says in embarrassment. "It looks good to me" he says. "I'm able to knit scarves but they're easier" she replies. She suddenly feels awkward and her mind goes blank. First he complemented her art, then her knitting, she's not used to be attention like this, especially from a man and handsome man at that. She remembers the first time she saw him, he was walking with Tommy and she thought he looked distinguished. Most of the women in the town admired him. He reminds her of the rugged, heroic men in old movies she used to watch as a kid on a Sunday with her dad. She couldn't believe he is in her house, it made the room quite small with him in it. He can't think of anything to say at that moment either but they start to talk about the weather, the thunder storms from the day before had gone away. Joel wanted to say something about Hamish but there's a knock at the door and she jumps up to answer it. Maria is holding baby Joey so they come in, Maria finding it hard to hide her surprise at seeing Joel there. The baby puts his chubby arms out for his uncle as he gurgles happily and Joel lifts him up. The two women go into the kitchen and Maria gives her a hug and checks if she wanted to talk about anything, about Hamish and the shock the whole experience was for her. Maria insists that she should take some time off patrolling. Flora tries to be brave, but doesn't disagree with needing some time out, at least for a few weeks. Maria mentions that they are going to bury Hamish that afternoon. She knows she isn't well enough to go to the funeral which makes it more difficult. Flora gives Maria homemade lavender tea, telling her to put a spoonful of the tea in Joey's milk and it should help him to sleep during the night. Maria is grateful, saying she can't remember when she last had a proper night's sleep herself so might drink it herself as well. Maria was about to mention Joel when he walks in with the baby who has started to whimper, getting cranky as it's time for his nap. Maria says she would call on her another time soon and Joel says he should go too.

Maria and Joel walk back together in the direction of the hall. She says "Be careful not to hurt her feelings, she's not tough like you and I". Joel answers, "I wouldn't hurt her, that's the last thing I'd do". He stops himself saying any more. He realises it's the opposite, he almost finds himself admitting to her that he has developed feelings for her. He's aware it happened fast but he knows in his heart that it's real. Maria smiles to herself. She could read between the lines, she has a talent of getting the truth out of people. It probably goes back to her days of being a lawyer. While Joel and Maria don't always see eye to eye, especially when he and Ellie had just arrived in Jackson but she trusts her husband completely and he idolises his older brother, so in recent months they had begun to trust each other more.

Next Chapter

Authors Note:

The fight-or-flight response defined is a complex physiological reaction that happens when an individual faces a perceived threat. This natural response prepares the body either to confront the danger head-on or to flee from it.

The main character, Flora has anxiety and PTSD and her instinct normally is flight. Joel saves her from a distressing situation and this story shows how their relationship develops over the following months.

The story is written in the third person, I found it easier to write it this way. Flora is a gardener and is very creative. She is friends with Ellie and Dina. It is Jackson era Joel, where nothing bad happens to him. It is slow burn with lots of yearning on both sides. Flora is in her mid to late thirties so there's approx 20 year age gap with Joel being late fifties. She is a virgin. There's no use of y/n. There's no physical descriptions of Flora, other than she's shorter than Joel, has long hair that's usually braided. It's my first ever fanfic. It's taking a lot of courage to upload this story and I hope someone will enjoy reading it. Thanks, B

[sin-djarin]

in fiction

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader

Rating: M. MDNI. This blog and its contents are 18+.

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Dieter comes to bed.

Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of self doubt, no physical description of reader, no dialogue, no use of y/n.

A/N: I wrote about Joel coming home and wanted to do something similar for Dieter. To me, Dieter is soft and deserves some fluff. Thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for looking over this and getting me out of my own head about it!

You left him at the other end of the couch hours ago. His hands held a script and yours held a novel. When morning comes, a car will roll up the gravelled drive to collect him for a shoot. You hoped that maybe your exit would have prompted him to follow but instead he stayed seated, one leg tucked underneath him, whispering words from the dog-eared pages to himself and the soon to be empty living room.

You carried yourself to bed but continued to read, sliding further down the mountain of cushions that are propped up against the velvet headboard. The words became increasingly difficult to absorb and you reread the same paragraph over and over until you eventually drifted off, book still in hand.

Some hours later, you’re woken from the light slumber by the familiar bumping on the other side of the wall – he’s finally coming to bed. He never walks or runs up the staircase. He trudges or bounces over the plush carpeted steps depending on what the day has thrown at him. A squeak of rubber across the hardwood floor tells you he's finished his climb.

The doorknob turns and he peeks around the frame before crossing the threshold. He wants to see if you’re still awake. After closing it quietly, he offers you a soft smile – trying hard to balance it out with sorrow and glee. He’s sorry he’s late to bed and that he’ll be forced to leave again but joyful that he can squeeze in some time together.

But before you can both indulge, he heads for the ensuite bathroom. You know the sounds and the order you’ll hear them. It begins with the tune he hums over the buzz of his toothbrush echoing off the bright white tiles. You never could figure out how he managed to get splatters of toothpaste that high up on the bathroom mirror.

The humming is halted by a crash. Stainless steel against ceramic. If you could see through the wall dividing you, you’d place a bet that the sleeve of his too-big robe got caught on the nozzle of the soap dispenser and sent it careening into the sink. Again. A hissed self deprating fuck follows it.

Whether Dieter is two feet away, or two thousand miles always, he always finds a way to bring a welcomed noise into your life. In the silence of the early morning hours, separated by timezones, your phone would vibrate over the wooden nightstand. Sometimes it’s an I wish you were here with a picture of the inside of a hotel suite. Other times, it’s a picture of a pigeon with no context other than the word Look!

You're drawn to his bedlam as much as he’s drawn to your peace.

He shucks off his champagne-coloured corduroy robe and throws it over the end of the bed, revealing his worn lavender t-shirt underneath. It’s a perfect picture before he slips out of his crocs and reaches over to flick the switch on the lamp on the nightstand, turning the room the same shade of black as the tattoo on his arm.

When he exits and turns off the light, he tiptoes around to your side of the bed. The bed that’s too big for both of you when you share it and will feel gigantic come sunrise. He takes the book from your hand and places it on your nightstand, pages down so you don’t lose your place.

Every time he comes back from travelling, he curses himself for not remembering to buy you a bookmark. Though he’ll still tell you about all the funny ones he saw through his sunglasses in airport stores.

You’ve come to learn he’s predictably unpredictable. You never know if he’s going to ask the most thought-provoking question about how the planets aligned themselves or if he’s about to tell you about the meatball sub he ate two years ago, describing down its last garlicky notes and the texture of the bread.

And just like that, you don’t foresee him climbing into bed from the bottom of the mattress, but he does. Clambering over the puffy duck feather duvet, he drapes his upper body over your legs, splaying himself across you, and rests his scruffy cheek on your stomach. Almost in unison, you both sigh at the sensation.

For a few seconds, he’s still in the new darkness that’s drowned the bedroom. Still enough that you can feel the slowing pulse in his neck beating against your bare skin and the steady jets of warm air that leave his nostrils pour over your lower belly.

Calm enough because everything about this is just that – enough. His signature smell of amber combined with the crisp mint on his breath is rapidly becoming your own personal sleep tonic as your eyelids threaten to become heavy again.  

It doesn’t last long. His hand is quick to search for yours, now unburdened by your book and when he finds it, he places it on the crown of his head.

What he wants is simple – just move your fingers through his disobedient curls.

You grant his wish; your fingertips glide gently over his scalp in lazy and uncoordinated motions. Tonight, leftover residue from his hair gel coats your fingers as you massage his head. Other nights, they catch on hardened flecks of oil paint that have fallen from his paintbrush and knotted his hair. Sorry, sorry, you’d whisper when you’d feel his lips twist against your flesh, wincing at the tug. His own knuckles find a slow rhythm, swiping back and forth across your waist.

The tiny groans of pleasure that your fingers cause him to illicit as they brush through his dark strands soon switch to soft contented snores. It's tempting to turn and check the time but doing so would turn the clock into a timer that would count down the minutes until his inevitable departure.

Sleep has found him. It’ll find you shortly too. Safe in the knowledge that he’s not persecuting himself about a performance that’s yet to happen, or whatever other pressure is weighing him down. For now.

Both of you will sleep through the alarm that’s set far too early and he'll wake with a jolt of panic. There won’t be time for breakfast or a shower. You’ll be left with a lingering kiss and that everlasting promise of a new bookmark.

He’ll return home again in one form or another, much like the creatures written in the chapters of your fantasy novel. In time, you’ll be a chapter in his autobiography.

[kokoluwie]

Awh my goshh this was such a cozy read!! Today had been a particularly sleepy day for me, and this story was just perfect for the mood 🫠❤️

Clambering over the puffy duck feather duvet, he drapes his upper body over your legs, splaying himself across you, and rests his scruffy cheek on your stomach. Almost in unison, you both sigh at the sensation.

awww that's so comfyy

His hand is quick to search for yours, now unburdened by your book and when he finds it, he places it on the crown of his head. What he wants is simple – just move your fingers through his disobedient curls.

Goshh I NEED to run my fingers through those locks

Thank you for writing this beautiful scene!! It's so soft and fluffy you're making me yearn for a sleepy and cuddly Dieter <33

[vodkaandpizza]

With Somebody Who Loves You

Older!Javier Peña One Shot

Javier and his wife drop their youngest daughter off at college then spend a few days in San Francisco on a little vacation. Inspired by the photo shoot Pedro did for Fantastic Man, there are a couple of pictures he took that look a lot like how I picture an older Javier Peña. 5K

AN: Hello! This can be read as a standalone but it is a part of the Ghosts, Devils and Cowboys universe. It takes place almost 20 years after the events of The Ghosts of Bogotá. Timeline wise it's after the sequel The Devil's Pilot Chapter 23: Eldest daughter, but this is a Javier and Ana fic. Ana for those uninitiated is actually Helena Sotomayor from S1E2 of Narcos. But now she goes by Ana for fleeing from the cartel reasons...

Warnings: for explicit sexual content; very light Dom/Sub dynamics; Oral sex; Penetrative sex; Light spanking; a very brief illusion to past assault (not graphic, but a Narcos canon event)

Late August 2017

Berkley, California

“Javier Peña! What the hell are you doing up there?” His wife Ana called up from the ground. She and their youngest daughter were standing in the courtyard of the Berkey dorm staring up at Javier. Their expressions a mix of bemusement and exasperation.  

Javier looked down over the edge of the fire escape, arm hooked around the iron ladder for balance. He could see his wife and daughter staring up at him through his new aviators. A present from Ana for his birthday last week. He’d been grouchy about getting older. Or at least that’s what his beautiful wife had accused him of. It was no secret that he was older now. They hadn’t had their daughter Hels, as everyone affectionally called her, until he was in his forties. But it had felt like just yesterday he was cradling her in his arms as a baby. Up with her in the middle of the night when they both couldn’t sleep.

 Now they were in California for the week getting his little baby settled in her dorm room. She was still only 17, she’d skipped a grade. Javier had always said she’d gotten her mother’s brains. But she had his drive too, and his baby had big plans for her future. She was going to be a doctor. Which made Javier happy, not because he cared about the prestige, but because he figured it should be a safe enough occupation. That and she’d have even less time for moronic frat boys. His baby girl was an old soul in many ways. He still wasn’t quite sure where that had come from. He and her mother had both been much wilder in their youth, back when they both ran the streets of Bogotá.

He smiled down at his girls. “I’m just checking the security, the windows only open from inside. But maybe I should buy a cover just in case someone tries to break the window.”

“Pops! Can you please not look into the girl’s dorm windows my first day of college!” Hels groaned. She’d done pretty well tolerating his antics so far, she’d gotten lucky, her older sister warned there was no small chance that he might buy some university mech at the store, a shirt and start wearing it around. But she’d lucked out, maybe he was exhausted from the Ikea trip the day before for her dorm room furniture. But whatever the reason he’d stayed in his white button up.

“Relax, mi alma, no one’s moved in here yet, the next one up is your dorm, I checked the blueprint before we came.” He called down. Mi alma. My soul, he’d called her that often. Javier Peña in his lowest moment had once believed that he’d sold his soul and wouldn’t be aloud to ask for it back. For a long time he didn’t. Then one day in a San Antonio hospital he figured it had come back to him anyway. In the form of the pretty girl that now stood mortified below him.

“Mama!” Hels pleaded, “He’s ruining any shot I have at fitting in.”

“Javier get down!” Ana called to Javier. “I should have known this would happen when I saw the blueprints in the office.” She told her youngest daughter with an eye roll as Javier climbed down.

“I can look at your window after we get your furniture moved in.” He said as he headed to the U-Haul.

 Hels groaned. “Just humour him. You moved three states away. I had to talk him out of buying a condo near the campus.” Her mother told her.

“I’m lucky he didn’t try to move into the dorms.” Hels joked.

“I wouldn’t give him any ideas.”

Hels’ focus landed on her father once more fixing him with a scathing teenage glare. “Pops, can you please do up another button? You look like a pirate and people are staring.”

“It’s hot in California,” he grumbled.

“Sure is.” Ana smirked her eyes falling to her husband’s neck at he, unfortunately did up another button.

“Not hotter than Texas.” Hels said ignoring her parents’ flirtation.

Ana smirked, “Come on Fabio, it’s a miracle you didn’t get any rust stains on that shirt up there.” It was the nice white one he’d packed for dinner that night, He and Ana were heading to San Franciso that night for a little vacation before heading back to Texas. They’d moved all the furniture that morning then gone to their hotel in Berkley to check out and change. Technically they should have been going for a grocery shop and putting up posters. Clearly, Javier had a couple more security checks he hadn’t brought up with them.

“That’s why I normally wear colours never had to worry about that when I was running though the comunas.”

Hels sighed, turned on her heel and headed to her dorm, not interested in her parents reliving their glory days in Columbia. Once Hels was settled in her dorm room with the window now secure to Javier’s standards. Ana had to practically drag him down the hall. “Do you think she will be alright?” he asked looking over his shoulder.

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

They sat in the beautiful, trendy, well reviewed restaurant in the Castro district later that night. They’d only just ordered their drinks, but Javier anxiously checked his phone for the fifth time since they’d sat down, just in case Hels had needed anything.

“Baby we are on vacation now. You’ve got to relax a little. She’s all moved in and she knows she can get a hold of us.”

Vacations had always been a hard concept for Javier. His mind was rarely quiet. Relaxing didn’t come naturally either. He’d never taken many when he worked with the DEA and the ones he did take were usually forced on him by a superior who was a little tired of dealing with the dogged agent. The first time he’d ever taken a real vacation had been with Ana and her oldest daughter. Even then he approached the planning and execution of such things in a similar fashion to how he would execute an operation with the DEA.

 The restaurant they were sitting right now had been a meticulously chosen. It wasn’t that he was beyond spontaneity. He’d left that even after diner open, he figured they could walk around the Castro district a little, take in the sights, see where they ended up. His planning now was about wanting the best for his family. Ana had worked hard, she’d been a single mother to her oldest daughter, then she’d gotten her doctorate in psychology when she and Javier got back together in Texas. Now his diligence, the drive that had hunted down drug lords, was all focused on making sure his family had the best he could give them. And making up for lost time. “I’m just worried about her. She’s never been this far from home and she’s so young.”

“Which is why we decided to take our vacation here this week remember? So we could be close enough if she really needed something.”

“I know.”

“She’s going to be fine. She’s worked for this for years and she’s probably excited to be at her first night in college. No more hovering Javi.” She said as the waiter dropped off their drinks. She raised her glass, “To being empty nesters.”

“I don’t want to cheers to that.” He said sullenly. Ana studied him for a moment. It wasn’t right, that a man could looked so handsome even when he was pouting. She knew he’d struggle with this. He’d been fine until she’d announced she was going to take premed out of state. Then he’d gone into a quiet tailspin of worry. There were too many variables, things that could go wrong, things he couldn’t fix if he needed to. But she didn’t want to spend their entire holiday with him dwelling on the evitable. She pivoted changed her approach. “To your birthday then.”

“That was last week.” His big sad eye snapped up, he knew what she was up to, he decided to play along anyway. “I thought you forgot.” He teased

“I never forget! And I gave you those sunglasses on your birthday.”

“That was a gift for you, you know I was happy with the old ones.” He was just being cheeky and they both knew it. He rarely got to wind her up anymore. He took every occasion where he thought he could.

“You know you needed prescription ones!”

The corner of his mouth twitched as he tried to hide his smirk.  “You did forget once...”

Her nose crinkled with indignant annoyance. Success, he always adored the face she made when she was a tiny bit frustrated with him. “I didn’t forget, I just forgot to bring your gift from the house to the ranch.”

“You look so pretty when you're mad at me.”

“Javi…” She warned but she smiled back at him as she rolled her eyes.

“I still think you forgot...”

“Well, I made it up to you, and the result of that just started college. I haven’t forgotten since, so I’m not buying your sob story Pandejo.” She said as she lifted her glass meeting his big brown eyes that had shifted from sullen to sparkling with humour over the course of their banter.

“Salud Javi.”

“To my beautiful wife.”

“We were cheers-ing to your birthday.”

“Well, it’s been so crazy I’ve forgotten to cheers to you too lately.” She roll her eyes as she put the glass to her lips.

They had their dinner. Chatting and teasing throughout. When the topic of dessert came up Ana pulled something from her purse as she said, “I got you one more thing to celebrate.”Ana held out a cigarette.

“Really?”

“Just one, for your birthday. Unless you don’t want …”

He snatched it from her fingers. Standing up he planted a kiss on her cheek, “Thank-you mi amour, order whatever you want. I’ll be right back.”

Javier Peña had quit smoking in his 40s after he left the DEA. Not for heath reasons, at not entirely. Javier was a man who like to control, when he felt in control things felt safe things usually were safe. Not for him but the people around him. It was a fact he wasn’t to this day completely aware of, but he knew on some deep level that when he wasn’t in control bad things happened.

So he hadn’t quit smoking because of any thought of living longer, truth be told when he was a young man he’d have scoffed at the very idea of living this long. That his dark locks would be lightened with strands of grey. That thought it even less likely that he’d be happy to see them. That he could one day be a content old man. One who wanted as many day on this planet as possible. But he did now. Now that he had a dazzling intelligent beautiful wife and two clever daughters he wanted every moment he had with them.  So he didn’t smoke anymore, except on very rare occasions.

And he’d be lying if he didn’t miss the burn of his lungs and the taste of tobacco on his lips. Which was why he didn’t ever trust himself to buy a pack. It was in a terrible fight with Ana that she’s first become the warden of the cigarettes, not to nag him just a small loophole in his iron clad resistance, so now she doled them out sparingly on special occasions. He usually got one on his actual birthday. In the chaos that had surrounded the late summer, moving looking after the ranch, their eldest with her surgery and splitting time between the Ranch in Laredo and the house and her clinic in San Antonio he’d assumed she’d just forgot. Now he realized she knew he’d want one after the stress of moving their baby three states away for college. So she’d saved it. And she had been right to.

As he stood outside, he realized he’d forgotten one kept component to smoke. Fire. He didn’t have a lighter.

“Need a light handsome?” A sultry voice asked coming up beside him. A beautiful tall dark-haired woman about 20 years younger than him asked. She held out a hand and causally flicked on a sliver zippo. Javier hadn’t been expecting that. He nodded cigarette already between his lips.

Javier was a happily married man,  but he was still Javier Peña. So he still knew when he was being checked out. And had no problem playing along with some casual flirting over a cigarette. His dark eyes crinkled as he leaned down towards the flame. He didn’t have to lean far down she was rather tall in her heels

“I’m singing tonight just down the street. At a bar called Bellow the Castro, its all covers of the great old hits, Nicks, Parton, Houston, the holy trinity.  Then here’s Latin band coming on later for more dancing, you look like somebody who can move…”

Javier shot her his most devastating smile, “So do you sweetheart. I’ll see if my wife wants to. She loves to dance, but… well let’s just say we left our club days in Bogotá.”

“You’re not from around here.”

“Texas.”

“You don’t strike me as much of a cowboy.”

“Only when I have to be.”

“Mhmm. Well who’s your favourite? Of the old music queens? Texas. I’ll sing one for you and your wife if you two come see.”

“Dolly then, my wife tells me Islands in the Stream is our song, it was a hit the year we fell in love.”

“1983? In Columbia?” Javier nodded while he ashed his cigarette. “Dios mios, mi abeula was from there, the 80’s in Columbia must have been a hell of a time.”

“It was.”

“Islands in the Stream.” She said committing the song to that night’s playlist. “What are your names?”

“Javier and Ana.” She repeated, committing it to memory. “I’ll sing it for you if I see you.”

Javier gave a non-committal-nod. “Maybe we’ll see you there, thanks for the light.”

“No problem, papi.” She said with a wink of long false eyelashes. Then she pushed away from the wall of the restaurant and sauntered off.

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

“I’m pretty sure this is the place.” Javier said looking at the little bar entrance as he pulled out his wallet to pay the man at the door cover.

“I don’t know if this is going to be alright Javi.” Ana warned as he led her down the steps of music club. “I doubt this is going to be like the senior’s salsa night.”

When they were young, they’d danced in the salsa clubs in Bogotá. Ana was an amazing dancer, and she loved to do it. Then after Ana had been attacked in Medellin, she’d hated the clubs, crowded spaces, anywhere where someone might feel entitled to touch her. A touch could send her overboard, a stranger innocently placing their hand on her should made her skin crawl, and sometimes even all these years later sent her body into an immediate response of fear and pain. In a single moment undoing, if temporarily, the work she’s done for years in therapy. Then Javier had reappeared in her life. At 40 they’d gone slower than they had the first time around, in many ways. He’d eventually worked up to her body trusting his again too. Then one Valentine’s Day he’d given her the best gift she could have imagined. He’d given her back dancing.

Javier had found a little bar outside San Antonio that did a senior’s salsa nigh on Thursdays. They’d been the youngest couple there by 30 years. It had seemed silly, but Javier figured it would be a place to start. A way to go dancing again. Now they almost looked like they belonged to the crowd, they still went once a month nearly 20 years later.

He turned to kiss her, his dark eyes sparkling. “I know, but I’ll be right here. And if you want to go we can go… si mi renia?”

She took a breath. Javier had never once - in their almost 20 years of marriage - put her in a place where she would be uncomfortable or unsafe. He’d made that mistake once in Columbia, one Ana would still argue wasn’t his fault. It was one of his biggest regrets. Since then, Javier had gotten older and wiser. She’d been surprised he’d mentioned going in the first place, he almost never took her any where he hadn’t vetted prior. But he seemed oddly confident about this one.

When they entered the dark bar, it was crowded. People where dancing, but it did indeed look different than the salsa clubs in Bogotá and the senior salsa night they’d been going to for nearly 20 years, long enough they no longer looked so out of place there amongst the other patrons. There where lots of men in close quarters, an issue usually except…

Ana grinned after a quick survey of the stage and the early bar crowd, “Javier did you know this was a drag bar?”

Javier gave her a big grin, crinkled eyes dancing with amusement, “I had an idea when the woman who invited me had an Adams apple and was well over 6 feet tall. So, do you think you’ll be okay here? If not we can go, walk to the harbour or something, get a cocktail that costs way more than it should.”

“No, I think this will be fun, as long as I have you.”

“Always.”

So, they danced, their bodies moving together. And they sang along to some of the old power hits. True to her word Javier’s new friend sang Islands in the Stream with her lead guitar players and pointed to them in the crowd as she introduced the duet. They crowed cheered for them too, at her shout out and Javier gave a little wave, never one to shy away from the right kind of attention.  

Ana laughed as she whispered in his ear her hand around his neck as Javier’s new smoking buddy crooned a wonderfully sultry version of I Want to Dance with Somebody. “In Bogotá, only had to look out for the girls trying to steal your attention, here its both.” She laughed.

“You are rewriting history… it was me who had to worry about you getting stolen away those nights.”

“Well you didn’t really, you were paying then.”

“Not always and there were perros with far deeper pockets than me.”

“But not anymore, hermoso.”

“…or better dancers.”

“No,” She teased as her drew her to the dance floor. “You still dance like a gringo.”

He tugged her in closer, a large hand covering the entire small of her back. Then slipped a denim clad thigh between hers rocked so he knew it rubbed just the right spot. Then step back and spun her before pulling her body back against his. Then in a low voice he told her ear “you always liked my gringo dancing.”

“Si, and you liked when I teased you, you liked feeling like you won me.”

“Not now.”

“Not then either, there was never any competition.  Not really.”

They danced a few more songs. The bar was dark on the dance floor and got more crowded, so Javier kept them to the back close to the door. He kept her in his arms so she wouldn’t panic. And just because he enjoyed having her there. When the salsa band came on, she stopped being so coy with her teasing. Her lips found the spot they both loved at the base of his neck. Then she ran a hand down his half-unbuttoned shirt then kept going low until…

“You keep that up Doc, and I’ll fuck you right here.” He growled, threading a large hand in her dark hair holding it back as he talked to her ear over the music of the band.

She looked up at him innocently despite what she was about to say, “Oh, I would have thought you had it planned out already, how you wanted to fuck me. You usually do…”

That was the last straw as he pulled her to the exit. He had her pressed up against the brick wall kissing her neck then her lips. Breaking briefly to order an uber.

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

They were starting another sort of dance as they fell into their hotel room laughing and kissing. His large hands guided his wife of nearly twenty years, and his lover of many more. They were just enjoying the easy the feel of being together. The gentle practiced love they shared. He marvelled at her as he slipped her dress off. He’d assumed as a young man that the lust the attraction would fade as one aged with their partner. That you would commit to them and even though you remained attracted to the same bodies and faces you had been in your prime. Javier would tell you many times over that he been an idiot in his youth.

Indeed, as he slipped his wife out of her dress, he found her even more intoxicating than he did when she had been in her twenties, when her very look and her job had been to seem alluring to him, to all men. But now, now that she had been his for so long. And he had been hers, his eyes adored the imperfections, the wrinkles they created together from laughing, the sunspots that graced her beautiful skin from their moments shared on sandy shores and as she turned to him her eyes sparkled with confidence, with knowing the power she still had over him. The spell she cast as she reached for the buttons on his shit pulling her with him as she backed up towards the bed and murmured “Come, mi amour, I want to feel you, you’ve been teasing me all night now I want you to deliver.”

“So demanding.” He laughed reaching an arm around her as he guided them both to the mattress. Shirt artfully tossed aside her hand were on his pants now, quickly undone the buttons and freeing him and his length from the denim. When his hands were off he hovered over her caging her in before finding her lips for a deep kiss. A moan escaping from him when her hand wrapped around his thick length. She made no moved to pump, she did nothing more than caress the soft hard weight of it in her palm. “I want you slow tonight. Okay cariño? I need to taste you first.”

“Okay, Javi,” her eyes crinkling in a soft smile, “if you need to.” Her tone was playful as if he’d asked for some grand imposition. The humour left her though, giving way to little gasps as he kissed his way down her body, taking only a small detour to kiss her inner thighs. Then landing in a greedy consuming kiss on her lower lips, his tongue swiping then plunging into her centre, a tease of what would follow. Her hands were gasping his think salt and pepper locked when his mouth came to suck on her clit. True to his world he took it slow, in no rush as he eased her to her first gentle orgasm with his lips.

She was basking of the warm glow of his work when his eyes found hers again. His dark eyes swimming with a cocky pride. “Are you ready? Tell me.”

“Si, I need to feel you baby.” He pushed in slowly. Not to torment, this time but to savour. To savour the feel of him taking him in, and the blown-out look of pleasure in her eyes as she did. “Javi, you feel so good.”

“You’re so beautiful” He said as he set a rhythm sure t bring them to a sensual peak. Her fingers dug into his back as he rocked into her, relentless until finally they both reached their peak together. She felt his chest rumbled with a groan and he came above her. He waited as they caught their breath savouring the last few moments as their bodies surrounded one another. He kissed her forehead as he pulled out and whispering. “I missed you.”

“I haven’t been anywhere but with you Javi.” She told him slightly confused.

“Today, but it’s been a busy summer. Between the ranch and your clinic and our crazy girls.”

“It’s been a busy life.” She laughed settling in her favourite spot on his chest. “But it was your idea to have another kid in our 40s.”

“My idea?” Javier laughed incredulously. “You brought it up!”

“No, I was just saying that I might not be able to have another one at that age.”

“Because you wanted one.”

“For you! I already had one kid.”

“Excuse me, we already had one.” He argued playfully, Javier had long ago laid claim to being the father of their oldest daughter, it didn’t matter they bore no blood relation.  

“You know what I mean, you’d yet to experience the pleasures of sleep deprivation, the terrible twos, potty training, endless recitals, school bake sales…”

“The crooked PTA.” He grumbled.

Ana snorted a laugh. “Christmases, quinceañera, prom…”

“Thank-you, cariño. It was a good idea.”

“Yeah, it was.”

Javier smirked, “Ha, so you admit; your idea.”

She rolled her eyes and slapped his chest lightly. “Using your bullshit interrogation techniques on me?”

“I never got to be good cop.” He whined jokingly.

“You still aren’t, you’re a pandejo cop.”

“I’m not a cop, haven’t been for a long time.”

“Right now you’re…” she paused. She had her clinic, she’d done this before with her oldest daughter, but Javier had been Hels’ primary caregiver. He’d retired from the DEA then turned fatherhood into his new life’s work. She knew he’d quietly been struggling with the change. So she feel back onto an old joke of theirs not wanting to sour the mood. “A stay-at-home sex god.”

“Finally, I can just be a kept man.” He joked playing lightly with her wavy dark hair.

Their conversation died for a moment, but they remained cuddled together. The glass French balcony doors to their beautiful hotel suite allowing the city lights to cast patterns on their skin. She played with the long thin silver chain he sometimes wore around his neck. It had been a gift from their oldest daughter many years ago, at the bottom was a round silver dog tag with the word ‘Honcho’ engraved in it. Finally, she broke the silence with a question Javier had been asking all week. One she’d assured him of relentlessly, one that now that the day was here hard worried the edges of her mind. “She’s going to be okay right Javi? She’s so far from home.”

 “She will, cariño, she's strong and clever like her mama.” He said planting a light kiss on the top of her head. And uttering lightly, “It will be ok. I promise.” They held each other as they fell asleep.

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

The California sun flooded the hotel room the next morning.   She slipped out of bed, Javier wasn’t there, but that didn’t worry her. Yesterday he’s deemed the in-room coffee unacceptable. She was sure he was downstairs getting them coffees from the little café across the street from the hotel. She wondered if she’d be able to see him darting across the intersection from the balcony. She grabbed the first piece of clothing she could find, his white button-up shirt from last night. It covered her like a short dress. She quickly closed a couple button and stepped out onto the balcony, her eyes were searching the street below for his thick salt and pepper locks when she heard the hotel open and door close behind her.

Javier met her on the balcony his eyes raking very slowly over her barley clad figure as he handed her a coffee cup. “Mi Renia. You out here in that… it reminds me of our time in Key West.”’

She smiled at her sweet Javier as she took the cup from him. Biting her lip playfully. “Remind me? What happened, I can’t recall…”

His hand caressed down her back when it found her ass he pulled back, giving it a quick firm slap. “Bad girl, mi amour. That was the top floor of a beach resort not downtown San Francisco.”

“If you squint, I think you can see the ocean that way.” She squeaked in surprise as he took her cup setting it on the little balcony table before picking her up throwing her over his shoulder in one swift motion. He was fireman carrying her back to the bed. “Careful old man, I don’t want you to hurt your back.” She teased.

“You’re asking for it you know?” His voice deep and commanding as he tossed her on the bed.

“No…” she said, tossing her hair back coyly, as if this hadn’t been exactly what she wanted. Then she let out a yelp as his hand found her lightly exposed butt.

Then Javier pushed her over pinning her arms above her head. Then he attacked her with his lip kissing her mouth then her neck and finally to her breast punctuating their playful tussle with a light bite to her nipple. “Careful, then mi amour.”

“Why?” She taunted “What are you going to do, you are retired remember, you can’t even arrest me.” He couldn’t technically in Columbia either but that wasn’t the point.

“Citizen’s arrest. Disturbing the peace.” His eyes glanced at the two untouched coffee cups on the balcony. “Wasting a very nice americano.”

“Oh no.” She said without remorse, her hands already unbuttoning his shirt. Her mouth at the base of his neck again. When her hand found the bulge in his pants smirked up at him. “Maybe there’s something I could do to get off with just a warning?”

He grabbed her wrists pinning her to the bed once more. “We’ll add bribery to that.”

“Is that a no?” He thought for a moment. Usually, he liked to have an idea before they played their kinky games. But his wife had caught him off guard this morning. And he did have actual plans for their day. Ones that involved sightseeing and a great dinner. A show. But Javier Peña was still Javier Peña, which meant he always could make time for a little sex. And if he could turn their entire day into a long game of teasing, secret touches and foreplay well…

He picked up a pillow threw it on the floor beside the bed and pointed to it. “Get on your knees now, take my cock out and we’ll see how well you do. Then we can discuss your punishment for tonight...”

“Si, Javi.” Was the last thing she said before the lips found his cock. He tossed his head back with a groan of pleasure. Javier Peña was finally a man who enjoyed his vacations.

Read their story from the beginning : The Ghosts of Bogotá

Taglist: @awkwardpaws @bardot49 @midnights-temptation

[tieflingkisser]

[vodkaandpizza]

*Sighs and opens Windows settings* Its fucking everywhere

[welcometogrumblr-blog]

Makes my day. Triggerwarning would be....language? LOL

Need this as ringtone, notification and alarm in the morning asap 😂

[vodkaandpizza]

10 Favourites Poll

Rules: make a poll with 10 of your favorite shows (they can just be 10 shows you loved watching or your top shows of all time) then tag 10 people.

Thanks-you for the tags @awkwardpaws @kokoluwie @bardot49 and @hanahleah!

I'm a little late. when ever one of these comes along suddenly my brain goes "we've never watched or heard of such a thing as TV" So I to ✨Ruminate✨ for a bit.

But all of these were once my top show:

Favourite TV Show

Community

Scrubs

The Good Place

Justified

Narcos

Peaky Blinders

Doctor Who (10, but I fw 11 too)

Due South 🍁

Charmed

Ted Lasso

Remaining time: 11 hours 36 minutes

NPT: @midnights-temptation @pedroscurls @bergamote-catsandbooks @baronessvonglitter @sawymredfox @capuccinodoll @thoughtfullypinkgiver @pedrit0-pascalit0

Sorry, if you already did it and I missed it! I'm behind the 8 ball on this one.

[brainstreams]

[vodkaandpizza]

I found a colour predictor for my ranch fic that has cut down significantly on my writing time for introducing a new horse. Something I'm sure no one reading has ever thought about. But in my head my readers are going "how the hell did a grey and a solid black horse have a Red Roan? That's not possible."

[midnights-temptation]

Collateral Damage - Chapter Two

ao3

previous chapter

Pairing: Frankie x Reader

Chapter summary: Frankie comes over and the two of you have a talk about last night.

wc: 3.9k

an: Thank you so much for reading; I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Chapter Two: About last night...

You take a deep, steadying breath in desperation to clear the remnants of the gasps that came along with your heavy sobs. After composing yourself to the best of your ability, you bring the phone up to your ear and clear your throat.

“Hey, Biscuit,” Frankie's voice filters through the speaker, coming in lower and raspier than usual. Normally the sound of his voice is soothing and calming, but right now? It feels torturous, a painful reminder of the betrayal you have caused that he is completely unaware of.

“Hi, Frankie,” you say quietly and carefully, hoping he can't tell you've been crying. But in the seven years you have been best friends, he knows you better than anyone else ever has. Frankie is acutely aware of the slightest downward shift in your tone, the way your breathing pattern quickens, and the nervous speed at which you speak, all of which are indicators that something is wrong.

“What is going on? Are you okay?” He asks, the concern palpable in each syllable.

There it is- one of the worst feelings, when you are desperately trying to hold yourself together with the thinnest, frayed thread, and those three simple words instantly tear the stitching open like a wound. Hot tears suddenly spring back to life, pricking at the corners of your eyes. Once the dam fully breaks, you are completely powerless to stop it.

A raw sob tears painfully through your throat. You desperately try to hold it back and swallow it down, muffling the sound with your palm closed over your mouth, but you can’t. You thought the tears you had cried before answering the phone would have left you empty and unable to shed any more. You thought they were enough to keep you steady, at least through this call, but you were painfully wrong. That one question, born out of pure worry and concern, just broke you completely in a way you can no longer hide.

“I’m coming over, okay? Right now. Just breathe. Breathe for me. Everything is okay,” Frankie says, his voice shifting into a calm and soothing cadence. With a grunt of effort, you can hear his heavy boots thudding rapidly across the floor of his living room. “I’m staying right here on the phone until I get there.”

Soon the faint sound of keys jingling echoes through the receiver, immediately followed by the heavy creak of his truck door opening. He slides onto the worn leather seat and slams the door closed with a resounding thud.

“Did something happen last night?” Frankie asks worriedly as he roughly shoves the key into the ignition and turns it. The engine loudly roars to life and nearly drowns his voice out. “After I left, did someone bother you?”

“No, no,” you answer quickly- a little too quickly. “No one bothered me.”

“Good, that’s good,” Frankie lets out a sigh of relief, barely audible over the sound of the engine, as he puts you on speaker and snaps his phone into the dash mount with a small click. He throws the truck into reverse, resting his right hand on the back of the passenger seat headrest as he looks over his shoulder and quickly backs out of his driveway. He roughly puts the truck into drive as he makes his way to your apartment, driving faster than he should. "But something did happen…?”

You hesitate from your spot sitting cross-legged on the floor. Your fingertips trace nervous, frantic paths along the denim of your jeans as you remain silent.

“Biscuit?” Frankie presses gently as his eyes scan the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, the leather groaning underneath the tight grip of his thick fingers. “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Can you? Can you really tell him anything?

What would Frankie think if you blurt out, right in this very moment, that you..his best friend…hooked up with Santiago, the man he considers his brother?

Would he be shocked? Left speechless? Would he be furious at the betrayal, knowing that the perfectly balanced dynamic between you and the rest of the guys will now surely tip the scales into an awkward, irreparable mess of things?

Would he be indifferent? Possibly laughing it off and saying it’s nothing? Or…could it lead to the one scenario you don’t dare to let yourself dream about…Could Frankie maybe…just maybe…feel the same way you do?

Hope immediately blooms to life in your chest but you quickly extinguish it, refusing to let it grow and take root in your heart. You can’t let yourself have that hope, and even thinking about it makes you feel guilty after what you’ve done.

“I’m almost there. See you in a minute,” he interrupts your thoughts, his voice tight with tension. He takes the next curve slightly too fast and sharp, his tires squealing in protest.

“Okay, see you soon.”

He ends the call.

As you pull the phone away from your ear and hold it in your hand, you look down at his contact picture on the illuminating screen; the photo you took of him three years ago at Ben’s birthday, when the party had gotten too raucous and over-stimulating and you went inside and sat on the couch for a reprieve, with Frankie joining you. The photo soon disappears, and as your phone turns back to black you are met with your broken reflection staring back at you. The memory of that day suddenly replays vividly in your mind.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You okay, Biscuit?” Frankie had asked as he sat next to you on the couch. He leaned back into the cushions as he rested one arm along the back of the couch behind your shoulders.

“Yeah. I just needed a break for a minute. Some quiet. It’s just so loud out there,” you exhaled, letting out a slight chuckle.

“It is a lot,” Frankie nodded in agreement as his dark eyes locked onto yours. “But I can keep you company, if you want.”

“Always,” you grinned as you pulled your legs underneath you and crossed them.

He smiled, that same easy-going smile that always made your stomach flip and your heart leap into your throat since the first day you met him.Your phone suddenly chimed with a text notification. You pulled it out of your pocket, eyes quickly scanning the message.

“Sorry; it’s Mom updating me on Dad,” you explained as you opened the text to reply. Frankie instantly moved closer to you, his relaxed posture turning rigid.

“How is he, since coming back home?” He asked quietly. He dropped his head closer to yours as he studied you with a look of concern that you could see from your peripheral vision.

“Better, but he wants to get right back to work. He doesn’t want to just lay in bed while he recovers,” you sighed in frustration as your brows furrowed. Your fingers deftly tapped across the glass as you typed a message back.

“That sounds about right,” Frankie said with a chuckle. He removed his signature black hat and ran a hand through his tousled brown locks. “He’s never been the type to just relax.”

“Never,” you agreed as you turned your phone off and put it back in your pocket, then shifted to face him. “And he’s so stubborn."

A wide grin broke across Frankie’s face. He placed his hat back on his head and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “That must be where you get it from.”

You had let out a scoff in mock offense as you pressed a hand against your chest. “Excuse me, Frankie?! What is that supposed to mean?!”

“That you inherited your dad’s stubbornness,” he stated simply as he bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold back a stifled laugh and looked out the window.

“You think I’m stubborn??” you asked, eyebrows raised, before you crossed your arms defensively over your chest.

Frankie let out a snort as he looked back down at you in amusement. “You aren't serious, are you? I’ve never met a more stubborn person in my life.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Frankie immediately held a finger up to stop you.

“You being stubborn isn’t a bad thing; it’s not a negative trait. In fact, it’s the complete opposite. You are one of the strongest people I have ever known. You don’t give up, you don’t back down. And most importantly…you don’t take shit from anyone.”

“Including you?”

“Especially not me,” he murmured as his voice turned uncharacteristically soft. He looked at you with something heavy, something unspoken, that simmered in his gaze. It was something you couldn’t quite identify but refused to think too deeply over. Wistfulness wouldn’t get you anywhere, after all.

The atmosphere suddenly shifted, growing heavy and thick. Frankie, in his usual style, had to crack a joke to ease the weight of it.

“And I know that isn’t easy to deal with….I’m not easy to deal with. But you keep me in line. No one could handle my shit, that’s for sure,” he laughed, that self-deprecation he used so often bled into his tone.

You looked at him, brows knitted tightly together. “Why would you say something like that?”

He answered with a simple shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Stop,” you said, a gentle reprimand. “I’m very particular with my best friends, you know. And you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“God, your standards are low…” He teased with a tsk of his tongue as he shook his head.

“Cat!!” You smacked his chest playfully. He immediately grabbed the spot your hand touched as he sucked in a sharp gasp.

“You’ve wounded me,” he declared dramatically as he collapsed back and sank deep into the couch cushions. Frankie let his arms fall limply to his sides, eyes closed. You stared at him in disbelief for a moment.

“Jesus,” you laughed as you pulled your phone back out and opened the camera. You held it out in front of you as you framed him on the screen. “I’m taking a picture of this...”

“A picture of the moment you mortally wounded me??” he asked, his eyes remaining closed.

“It will be my contact photo forever,” you laughed so hard your hands shook. You tried to steady your phone to ensure the photo wouldn’t blur.

Frankie posed perfectly still as he let his head loll to the side. He dramatically slumped over more, but could only keep up the act for a moment before he lost it. A wide smile suddenly broke across his face as laughter poured out from between his lips like music right as you snapped the photo.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘God, he was so beautiful that day…’ you think as you drag yourself back to the present, sniffling. You wipe fresh tears off your face with the back of your hand before you drop your phone back into your purse. You are so distracted, so entirely consumed by the memory of that day, that you don’t even hear his truck pull into the parking spot outside of your apartment.

Soon there is a knocking on the opposite side of your door- three soft, familiar raps right in the center of the wood.You stand up, legs shaking, before turning around to grab the metal handle and twisting it open.

“Frankie…”

His name barely leaves your lips before he surges forward. He envelops you in a hug, one arm wrapping firmly around your back and the other cradling the back of your head as he holds you tight against the taut, muscled plane of his chest, steeping you in his warmth.

“Tell me you’re okay…” he whispers softly against your hair right above your ear. You can feel his body trembling. “I didn’t hear from you last night or this morning, and you always text me when you get home on Fridays. Then you were crying so hard when I called….”

Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as you bury your face into his shoulder and breathe in the familiar and comforting scent of cedarwood and vetiver, as well as something else that is uniquely Frankie. You nod.

“I’m okay. Really. I don’t know why I’m so emotional. Just…it was a weird night. I drank too much, and don’t really remember what even happened…” you murmur into the soft cotton of his light gray henley shirt. He quickly pulls back. The abrupt loss of his warmth makes your chest ache in the worst way, but he keeps his large hands firmly anchored on your shoulders.

“That’s not like you,” he says as he looks down at you….not with judgment, but a deep concern. “You don’t remember last night? At all?”

“No. Well, nothing after seeing you at the bar with…” You trail off, tensing slightly. An awkward and suffocating tension suddenly settles in the air and you swallow hard. It is clear, in the unspoken space between both of you, exactly what you’re thinking. You look up into his eyes, searching for an answer you hope to find without having to ask the question out loud.

Frankie shifts slightly. His hands drop from your shoulders down to his sides, his expression turning unreadable as you reluctantly let go of him.

“I guess your night got better,” you say quietly. You wince the moment the words leave your mouth-words that you fully meant to keep locked inside of your mind but instead let fall clumsily from behind your lips.

“What do you mean?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You and the blonde. You took her home,” you state, a poor attempt to appear nonchalant before your gaze drops to the floor. You find yourself unable to endure the look in his eyes for another second.

“What…?” his tone morphs into one of genuine confusion as he shifts his weight again from one foot to the other.

“Come on, Frankie,” you scoff lightly as you wrap your arms around yourself like a shield. “You thought I didn’t see you flirting with the blonde at the bar right before you disappeared?”

He lets out a small, incredulous laugh. “I didn’t take her home, actually. But why would it matter if I did?”

You freeze.

“I…j-just don’t want you to get hurt,” you stutter, the lie pathetically transparent even to yourself. You look back up at him just in time to see Frankie’s eyes narrow fractionally.

“I’m a grown man. I can make my own decisions and take care of myself.”

“I know.”

“So it doesn’t matter if I decide to go home with someone from the bar.”

“That isn’t like you,” you point out, turning defensive.

“No, I don’t usually do that,” he agrees carefully. “But if I want to, I can.”

“Yes. You can,” you concede, the fight draining from you as your voice drops to a barely audible whisper.

Frankie lets out a heavy exhale as he looks down at you. His eyes search your face for a truth you refuse to speak. “I’m more concerned about you drinking so much you don’t remember anything. How did you get home?”

“I took an Uber,” you blurt out, the lie tasting like a bitter acid resting on your tongue. You feel your stomach turn.He simply nods, his unfocused gaze drifting off as if he is suddenly plunged deep into thought.

Before he can interrogate you any further, you turn and motion for him to follow you into the living room. You sit on one end of the couch and he follows suit, sitting on the opposite side from you.

“So what was going on with you last night? I mean…you apologized for being an asshole, but…do you want to talk about it…?” you ask carefully. You try to tread lightly on what feels like a delicate topic to introduce into an already fragile discussion.

“I was just in a bad mood. That’s all.” He sits rigidly, his posture stiff and guarded- a far cry from the usual relaxed stance he has when he comes over to your place, sinking into the couch cushions like he belongs there.

“Did something happen?”

“Not exactly.”

You watch him for a moment, waiting for his elaboration, before realizing he was being intentionally vague and keeping a wall up between you. He clearly does not want to go further into any details, and you don’t want to press it.

“But you’re okay now, right? Everything is okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

Frankie's hands rest on his thick thighs, his fingers tapping over the khaki covering his knees in an anxious, unnerved rhythm.

“You can relax, you know. The couch doesn’t bite,” you say in the same teasing and playful tone you always use with him.

He doesn’t laugh or smile. He doesn’t even look over at you.

“Frankie…?”

“What?”

“Talk to me. Please,” you plead, your chest suddenly tight from the cold and clinical distance between you- something you’ve never experienced with him before.

Frankie finally snaps his attention back to you, and you immediately see the pure exhaustion filling his dark brown eyes before his gaze drops down to his hands.“I just….have a lot on my mind.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything, too,” you remind him softly, echoing his words on the phone back to him. You scoot over, slightly closer to his side of the couch.

“I know,” he rasps. A strange energy you’ve never felt around Frankie clings in the air. He clears his throat roughly.

“Did you drink so much because of me?” he asks suddenly. His head snaps up as he looks at you with a sharp and piercing intensity that is entirely foreign, leaving you taken aback.

“W…what? No, of course not!” Another lie. Fuck, you hate lying to him. You feel sick, completely disgusted with yourself for your cowardice and poor choices, but you are far too afraid to tell him the truth.

“I only ask because I know last night was kind of…weird and I wasn’t myself. We’ve been doing these Friday night hang-outs for seven years, and you’ve always been careful to not drink too much. So hearing you say you drank so much you don’t remember last night scares me. And it makes me angry at myself.”

“Angry at yourself…?” You tilt your head in confusion as you see a look of guilt wash over his face.

“You’re my best friend. If I had just stayed last night, seen that you had drank too much…I could have driven you home….”

“That isn’t your responsibility….I’m not your responsibility. I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and take care of myself.”

He lets out a short, humorless huff at that- the way you took his own defensive words and threw them right back at him. “That’s different,” he says gruffly, his voice sharper with a frustration sitting right under the surface. “And you know it.”

“Not really,” you challenge, leaning all the way back into the cushions as you watch him.

He looks away again and stares intensely at the floor. He swallows hard, the sound audible in the tense stillness of the room. “You really think me taking someone home from the bar is the same as you drinking so much you don’t even remember the night, or coming home?”

“It’s….comparable,” you argue, though you are unable to even convince yourself. And you must certainly don’t convince Frankie, either.

“No. It’s not. And I went home alone anyway. You always talk about being careful to not drink too much, but you drank way more than you usually do….”

“Nothing happened,” you quickly interrupt, causing Frankie to sigh deeply in irritation.

“But it could have,” he replies, his voice rising louder.

“But it didn’t,” you argue back.

“But it could have,” he repeats, turning his body to fully face you. “And something apparently did happen last night.”

You carefully school your features, forcing your face to remain neutral, as you know that Frankie can read even your smallest micro-expressions.

“No,” you lie yet again, letting the word slowly roll off your tongue smoothly even though it makes bile rise up into your throat. “Nothing happened, except for being extremely hungover.”

Frankie studies you for what feels like an agonizingly long time before exhaling heavily, the tension in his shoulders finally relaxing a bit. You hold back a sigh of relief as he buys the lie and you push the guilty feelings deep down to address them at a later time.

“Do you want me to stay? I could make you something to eat,” he offers as the last remaining tension and frustration bleeds out of him.

“Do you want to stay?”

“Yes, I do,” he answers instantly.

“Good...because I don’t want you to leave.”

Frankie pushes himself up, standing with a slight grunt. “Let me at least make you some tea to make up for how I acted last night. I figure coffee is probably not appetizing right now.”

“Sounds good, thank you.” You give him a small smile as he heads into the kitchen.

You listen as he fills the tea kettle with water, moving deftly through your apartment with that practiced ease stemming from years of comfortable stays. The domestic, blissful nature of it is physically painful and you forcefully swallow your thoughts down before they can shatter you further.

As you hear Frankie open the cabinet next to the sink to grab a mug- no doubt your favorite one, the speckled clay mug with the emerald glaze- you get up, grabbing the purse you left haphazardly on the floor, and pull your phone back out to text Santiago as you promised.

You open your text thread with Santiago and stare at the screen for a moment as you sit back down.The last message was from yesterday morning, before everything permanently derailed in one single, blurred night of too many shots and decisions born from unspoken feelings.

Santi: Wanted to let you know we are going to meet up at 7 instead of 8 tonight. Can’t wait to see you!

A quiet hiss escapes from your parted lips as you read it again. A strange feeling of mourning overwhelms you as you sit in the knowledge that things will inevitably change forever. Your next texts are crafted with nervous, bated breath.

I’m doing okay. Thank you again for everything.

You stare blankly at the screen for a few moments until you see the ‘read’ receipt appear, soon followed by the typing text bubbles. You feel your stomach twist violently into knots.

Santi: Good. No need to thank me. What are friends for?

A second passes. Another text pops up.

Santi: Fish there?

Yeah.

Santi: I know he will help. Text me if you need anything. Always.

Here it comes. The knot in your stomach pulls agonizingly tight and your hands start to shake as you type your next message.

I still don’t remember last night…but I wanted to let you know I’m not on the pill.

You hit send.

Swallowing hard, you quickly lock your phone and set it down face-first on the end table just as Frankie comes back into the living room. In his hand is your tea, in the speckled mug with the emerald glaze, with steam curling up into the air from around the rim.

You reach out and take the mug, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and hope he assumes it is just the hangover.

[vodkaandpizza]

Just in case you thought I forgot about my hot Older!Javier Peña one shot from the Ghosts of Bogotá universe. I did not. But in typical me (or typical Javier and Ana) fashion I've turned it into a weekend long bang session that'll probably be 10k so it's going to take a minute to finish.

Any way here's a sneak peak.... No context needed really (cause it's mostly just smut.)

WIP

She slipped out of bed the next morning. Javier wasn’t there, but that didn’t worry her. Yesterday he’d deemed the in-room coffee unacceptable. She was sure he was downstairs getting them coffees from the little café across the street from their hotel. She wondered if she’d be able to see him darting across the intersection from the balcony. She grabbed the first piece of clothing she could find, his white button-up shirt from last night. It covered her like a short dress. She quickly closed a couple button and stepped out onto the balcony, her eyes were searching the street below for his thick salt and pepper locks when she heard the hotel open and door close behind her.

Javier met her on the balcony his eyes raking very slowly over her barley clad figure as he handed her a coffee cup. “Mi Renia. You out here in that… it reminds me of our time in Key West.”’

She smiled at her sweet Javier as she took the cup from him. Biting her lip playfully. “Remind me? What happened, I can’t recall…”

His hand caressed down her back when it found her ass he pulled back, giving it a quick firm slap. “Bad girl, mi amour. That was the top floor of a beach resort not downtown San Francisco.”

“If you squint, I think you can see the ocean that way.” She squeaked in surprise as he took her cup setting it on the little balcony table before picking her up throwing her over his shoulder in one swift motion. He was fireman carrying her back to the bed. “Careful old man, I don’t want you to hurt your back.” She teased.

“You’re asking for it you know?” His voice deep and commanding as he tossed her on the bed.

“No…” she said, tossing her hair back coyly, as if this hadn’t been exactly what she wanted.

[vodkaandpizza]

Coming this weekend

[sodaneko]

something so special about someone who takes their time to make you come. not edging you, but showing you patience and eagerness in learning how to unravel you. mumbled sweet words to coax your attention back on them when you're getting into your head about 'taking too long'. if anything they just scoff, maybe getting angry on your behalf for whoever made you feel this way in the past. as if getting to taste and feel and worship you for hours isn't the best thing that ever happened to them. their intention is not to push you over the edge in record time but to get to know you inside out, no matter how long it takes. they rather come untouched in their pants than to stop giving you everything you deserve and more. your pleasure is their pleasure.

[berryispunk]

It’s him.

[vodkaandpizza]

Yes! This is absolutely how I write Frankie. I think we all heard that "Come on baby" and immediately knew he would do that 😂.