Any Woman, Who Is Merciful Enough To Allow You Into Her Bed, Deserves Better Than To Be Insulted Behind

OMFG this is absolutely amazing, I love this so much!!! Thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

Peluda - Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: A snowstorm hits Bogotá and you bring back a surprise visitor. Javi is not amused. But, it leads to a realization about himself- and about you.

Relationships: Javier Peña x F!Reader WC: 1700 Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Emotional, Nicknames, Soft Javier Peña (Narcos), Sweet Javier Peña (Narcos), Healthy Relationships, Fights (blink and youll miss it), Snow, Blizzards & Snowstorms, This kitten is DEA Read on AO3

notes: okay listen i am AWARE that bogotá does not get snow like this but this is my fanfiction and what i say is law so there is snow now.

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Thick snowflakes swirl around you, the ice crunching under your feet as your gaze flies over the windows of the building down the street. As you get closer, you can see it clearly, light spilling out from the right window on the ground floor. He's home.

You slip twice before you reach the house, hurrying past the parked cars and up the small flight of stairs that is also glazed over with ice, keeping your head down and your coat wrapped tightly around your body. When you reach the front door, you fumble with your keys for a moment, your hands shaking from both the cold and the adrenaline.

A curse escapes your lips as the bundle of keys falls down and you lean forward to grab it before settling for the doorbell instead of giving it another try. It's mere seconds until the door buzzes open and you push yourself into the dimly lit hallway of the apartment building. The wind howls around you, even after the large door has fallen shut, seemingly finding a way through the cracks around it.

“Hermosa?”

His door is slightly ajar, brown hair and a pink shirt poking out at the side of it. You practically storm towards him and you can tell by the way he flexes his arm that he's holding his gun, carefully checking who is showing up on his doorstep this late at night.

“It's me, calm down,” you brush him off as you reach the door and all but push yourself inside. Javier steps back, staring at you for a moment. His voice is a little lower than usual, which in your experience means one of two things. He's horny or he's mad. Occasionally a bit of both.

“Are you crazy, going out in this weather? I was worried sick.”

Mad it is.

You barely look at him as you shake your head, “I just wanted to get some more bread, we were out again and I didn’t know if the stores might close-” His gaze is on your face for a moment, resting on your slightly reddened cheeks, the slowly melting snowflakes that decorate both your hair and your coat. 

But that is what he stumbles over- the coat. Your arms are wrapped around yourself and the thick fabric is drawn over a lump that definitely does not belong to your body.

“What did you get?” Javier tucks the front of the coat down just as you turn away, sending a glare into his direction, “Don't scare it.”

“It?” Javi asks and you can practically see his brain going haywire as he tries to figure out what you’re talking about. The agent is so goddamn smart when it comes to tracking down informants and exposing cartel members but the most normal conclusions sometimes seem like a mystery to him.

His furrowed brows relax slightly when you peel the coat off yourself carefully and he is left staring at a trembling ball of fur in your arms. Very dirty, brown fur.

“Oh hermosa-” He starts but you shake your head before he even has the chance to complain. Bogotá has more than a few stray cats and dogs but so far, he has managed to keep you from taking any of them home.

“She was all alone, Javi, in the snow. She would’ve frozen to death,” you mumble. As if to confirm your story, the kitten gives a small, strangled noise and you hum quietly. Javier follows you into the bathroom, watching with crossed arms as you place the animal in the bathtub and begin to run the water, adjusting the temperature with one hand. The cat trashes around slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the cold porcelain below her and the attention of not one but two humans. Her claws strike your hand, making you curse as a thin trail of blood runs down your fingers.

“What are you doing?” Javier asks in a low voice, clearly exasperated. But you're not exactly calm either, your own hands still cold from the snow and now stinging slightly from where the cat has struck you. 

“I’m taking a bath,” you say with a roll of your eyes, voice dripping with irony. “I’m cleaning the fucking cat, Javi, what does it look like?!”

You don't need to see his face to know you're not the only one in the bathroom who looks like they've been struck. There's a small shuffle next to you as Javi closes the door behind himself and then kneels down beside you with a low groan, “Okay, how do we do this?”

A weak smile spreads over your face as you bring both hands back to the cat that has by now joined in on the conversation, audibly meowing up at both of you as you gently stroke its back, “I'll hold her, you run the water and get some soap.”

He does as told, filling the tub up just a bit so that the small animal can still stand. To your surprise, she doesn't seem to mind the water as much as a cat should. In fact, she almost seems to enjoy the warmth of it around her small paws. 

Javier seems to pick up on it too, “I thought cats don't like baths.”

“I guess not all of them?” You offer as he hands you the bar of soap and you begin to gently run it over the matted fur below your hands.

“Are we sure it's a cat?”

His voice is so serious that you can't help but laugh as you elbow his side, “Javi-”

“I'm just saying, hermosa. It could be a- an oddly shaped, brown raccoon.”

It does not turn out to be an oddly shaped raccoon. As the dirt comes off, layer after layer, staining the once white tub a gentle brown, it doesn't even turn out to be a brown cat.

The orange fur is dripping wet, making the small thing look even more pitiful than it had when you had spotted it hiding from the snow below a bench. At least the attempts to further scratch you have died down, the cat seemingly content to be warmed up and cared for.

“Hold on, I'll get a bigger towel,” you mumble and head to the small cabinet in the hallway. As you grab a well-worn one and pull it out, you hear a low voice coming from the bathroom, one that makes your head turn and hold still as you peek past the door frame.

“You're still shaking, peluda,” Javi whispers, crouched over the tub to gently brush his fingers through the dripping fur, no doubt not realizing you can hear him, “We’ll get you nice and warm, don't you worry.” A tiny meow comes as reply and he tuts softly, “Todavía no estoy seguro si eres un gato. You may fool her but not me. I'm an agent, you know? I can see right-” He punctuates his words with a soft, gentle pat on the cat's head, “- through - you.”

Your heart feels like it's about to jump out of your chest. You've never heard Javi talk to anyone so gently, anyone except yourself. And even then, it's usually reserved for when you're alone, tucked away in bed in the dark, tracing the skin of the person beside you.

A few minutes later you're seated in the living room, the tiny cat wrapped in a big towel on your lap as Javier hands you a baby bottle filled with some milk - both borrowed from the Murphy’s upstairs, who had both been equally confused when Javi had shown up on their doorstep to ask for both.

“Come on, peluda,” you reassure the kitten gently, repeating the nickname Javi used for her earlier, and very carefully, she begins to drink. The taste of the lukewarm milk seems to agree with her because after a few moments, the small sucks on the bottle becomes more eager and silence falls over the apartment, only interrupted by the small noises of the furball on your lap.

Javier is still standing in the open kitchen, watching as you feed the animal, occasionally reassuring her with a gentle pat or a different angle of the bottle.

He swallows, trying to get the realization that his head is producing back down into his stomach, the scenarios running in front of his eyes away from the surface. But there is no un-knowing the things he knows, no way to get rid of them.

He wants children.

It's not a possibility, not in Colombia, not with the cartel so close. Maybe it won't be one for a few years to come, until things are more quiet, until he has fixed everything he needs to fix. Including himself.

But as he watches you, the ever-growing wish settles in his throat, placing itself dangerously close to his mouth. Javi swallows again. He doesn't want it to slip out. Not yet, anyway.

He stands there, content to just watch as the cat eagerly takes one sip after another until the bottle is empty and the ball of orange fur purrs gently as it settles onto your knees, eyes already drooping.

Your voice is quiet as you urge him to come closer and with a small sigh, Javi settles down next to you, his arm automatically wrapping around your shoulder. He doesn't realize how close the picture of the three of you is to what he might have in a few years, minus a round stomach or a non-furry little companion on your lap. It's okay. He can wait.

“Can she stay?” You almost beg, your eyes finally leaving the kitten in front of you to wander to Javi instead. He sighs softly, both of you looking at each other. Then, his gaze leaves your face.

Brown puppy eyes meet green kitten eyes. They look at each other for a moment. Then Javi nods, “Yeah. She can stay.”

notes: shoutout to the person on my discord who said "funny, normally javi is happy to see a pussy" (i love you) also: do not give kittens cow milk (unless theyre starving and theres a snowstorm i guess?) idk this is no vetinary advice, google that shit if you ever bring home a kitten to your dea agent husband.

i love how neither boyd nor raylan walk normal. always slinking about like they have 5 inches of space to put their feet. tightrope kinda gait for no reason. caltwalk. cunt. posture of a lazy feline. body language 80% leaning. shaped like a skinny tree branch. joints? hips and knees - end of list. gay asses.

There he go

gummy lamas

GOD, I love these fools!

JUSTIFIED 3.08 | Watching the Detectives

April 2, 1975 ♥

how come the cooper fuckers aren't talking about the way he stands up on his horse !?

I think our moans would sound great together