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gothcsz · 2 months ago

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part nine of the neighbors series. i just had to write this... it was too good of a thought to keep just in my head! javier going back to helena after you rightfully tell him to get lost for standing you up. he's not into it but decides to fuck her anyways?! this man and his unhealthy coping mechanism: sex. smh. this takes place after part seven 🖤

javier peña x f!reader. ~1.5k word count. spanish heavy (translated), s m u t, honestly javi just comes with his own warning at this point, angst (as always)

Javier winces as the door to your apartment shuts in his face, the sound echoing louder than it should in the quiet hallway. He stands there for a long moment, his heart lodged firmly in his throat as guilt churns in his stomach.

He’d known, from the moment you opened the door in that beautiful dress, that he’d made a colossal mistake. He’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to make things right between you.

He sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. The way you masked the hurt he caused with dismissiveness and a sharp, cutting comment before turning him away somehow stung worse than if you’d just yelled at him.

His feet feel heavy as he trudges back to his apartment, the guilt following him like a shadow.

When he opens the door, Helena is there, sprawled comfortably on his couch with her legs crossed and a glass of whiskey in hand. She looks up, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she watches him close the door behind him with a slow, almost reluctant motion.

“Eso fue rápido,” (That was fast) she comments, “¿Todo bien?” (Everything okay?) she tilts her head slightly, her gaze curious but not overly concerned.

Javier stands at the threshold of his sunken living room, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his thoughts. He doesn’t answer immediately, too busy replaying the image of you in his mind.

She sets the glass down and stands, closing the distance between them.“Puedo ver el conflicto en tus ojos, Javi. ¿Tu vecina te gritó o que?” (I can see the conflict in your eyes, Javi. Did your neighbor bitch at you or something?) she teases, resting her hands on his shoulders before letting her fingers curl into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

Her touch pulls him out of his thoughts momentarily. “No,” he replies, his tone low, “Pero me porte como un culero y me siento mal por como la trate.” (But I acted like an asshole and I feel bad about how I treated her)

She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an amused smile. “You’re an asshole to everyone,” she says lightly, brushing a kiss along his jaw.

He scoffs, his frown deepening. “¿Qué? No hagas ese ruido—sabes que tengo razón.” (What? Don’t make that noise—you know I’m right) she chimes in as she continues with her affectionate touches.

Normally, he’d lean into it, let her distract him the way she always does. But tonight, it feels hollow, like a cheap salve for a wound cut too deep.

She notices his hesitance, pausing as she cups his face in her hands. “Nunca he visto a nadie tan interesado en lo que hace su vecina. Should I be worried about her?” (I’ve never seen anyone so into what his neighbor is doing) she’s half-teasing as her gaze searches his face for an answer, but Javier avoids it, the hesitation clear in his brown eyes even as he tries to shrug it off.

“No,” he attempts to be nonchalant with his reply, “Solamente tengo ojos para ti, hermosa.” (I only have eyes for you, beautiful) His hand slips down to grip her ass, trying to redirect the moment, trying to bury the ache of guilt beneath something physical.

She narrows her eyes slightly, skeptical but willing to let it slide. “No mientas, Javier,” (Don’t lie) she murmurs. “Tengo suficiente de eso con todos los hombres en mi vida.” (I get enough of that from all the other men in my life)

Instead of responding, he leans in and kisses her, rough and insistent. She doesn’t push for more answers, letting him take what he needs, but she doesn’t miss the edge of hindrance in his touch.

“Si necesitas hablar de algo, sabes que aquí estoy,” (If you need to talk about something, you know I’m here) she says softly, more serious now as their lips brush together.

“Me ayudas más cuando no hablas,” (You help me more when you don't talk) he mutters before pulling her closer. She nips at his bottom lip, and it’s enough to spark the familiar lust between them.

Urgent touches, clothes discarded in a trail to the couch, and soon they’re a tangled mess with a throw blanket lazily thrown over their bodies.

She sinks down onto him, her lips on his neck as she whispers dirty encouragements against his skin.

It feels good—sex with Helena always does—but it’s different tonight.

No matter how tightly he shuts his eyes, no matter how hard he digs his fingers into her hips to ground himself, his mind keeps drifting back to you. To the way your lips trembled just slightly before you masked it, to the look in your eyes when you told him to ‘have fun vetting his lead.’

“Javi…” Helena’s airy moan pulls him back briefly, the clench of her around him sending a spark up his spine. He leans in to kiss her, messy and urgent, but it’s not to deepen their connection—it’s to keep her quiet.

The last thing he wants is for you to hear this, for you to know just how badly he’s handled things tonight.

Large hands move around to knead at her ass, guiding her movements, but his touch lacks its usual fervor.

The thought of you fills every corner of his mind even as he tries to lose himself in her. Your excitement that day by the fountain, the shy smile as you invited him out, and the way that smile disappeared the moment you saw him walk in with Helena.

And when her orgasm begins to crest and she’s shuddering around him, he barely notices, too consumed by the ache in his chest that no amount of physical release can fix.

She notices. She always does. Her rhythm falters slightly as she leans closer, her lips skimming his ear. “Pareces distraído.” (You seem distracted)

“Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he growls, “Sigue moviéndote así.” (Just keep moving like that)

For the sake of not ruining this moment, she says nothing else, though he can feel the slight hesitation in her movements before she settles back into the pace he’s been guiding her toward.

Her breath hitches, her fingers tangling in his hair as she rides him, and he leans his head back against the couch, letting his eyes fall shut again.

It still doesn’t help.

Helena’s nails rake lightly down his chest, and he shivers, but it’s not desire that ripples through him—it’s frustration. With himself. With this situation. With the way he’s here, with a beautiful woman in his lap, and all he can think about is how badly he’s screwed things up with you.

Even as he drives her to her peak, there’s no satisfaction in it for him. His body is moving on autopilot, chasing a release that feels more like an obligation than a need.

When he finally comes, her name is the last thing on his mind. Yours, however, lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to lash out.

He bites it back, swallowing hard as she digs her nails into the skin of his shoulders, a guttural groan muffled against her neck, his hands clutching her ass like she’s the only thing tethering him to this moment of fleeting pleasure.

The instant it’s over, he feels heavier than before, the guilt settling back over him like a dense fog that refuses to lift.

Helena collapses against his chest, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. She’s still for a few seconds, and then she lifts her head, her dark eyes searching his face.

“¿Seguro que estás bien?” (Are you sure you’re okay?) she asks softly, concern threading through her voice.

Javier exhales sharply, avoiding her gaze as he gently shifts her off of him. “Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he repeats for what feels like the millionth time, his words clipped. He stands, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor and pulling them on hastily.

She watches him in silence, wrapping the blanket around her naked form, unspoken questions hanging in the air. He can feel her studying him, trying to piece together the puzzle of his distraction, but he doesn’t have the energy to reassure her. Not tonight.

He grabs the carton of cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table, his movements practiced, almost automatic. The flick of the lighter illuminates his face briefly before the glow fades, the cigarette catching with a faint crackle. He takes a deep drag, smoke filling his lungs before he exhales, watching it swirl toward the ceiling.

“¿Te vas a quedar?” (Are you staying?)

She doesn’t answer right away, licking her lips. “No. Tengo otros planes.” (No. I have other plans)

Relief floods through him, and for the first time since they started hooking up, he’s okay with her walking out the door. He nods, tapping ash into the tray on the table.

“Bueno entonces, cuidate. Here,” (Well then, take care) holding the cigarette between his lips, he fishes his leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a wad of cash, walking over and holding it out to her.

Her eyes drop to the money, her expression tightening. “Javi, ya te he dicho como me siento con esto.” (Javi, I’ve already told you how I feel about this)

“¿Qué?” He shrugs, speaking around the cigarette between his teeth. “Te estoy pagando como lo hacen todos los demás.” (What? I’m paying you like everyone else does)

“No eres como los demás.” (You’re not like the others)

They lock eyes, the tension between them heavy and tangible. His exasperation simmers, then bubbles over. He tosses the money onto the coffee table with a thud.

“Entonces no lo tomes. Me vale madre.” (Then don’t take it. I don’t give a damn)

Helena stands, redressing and stepping into her heels. Javier finishes his cigarette with slow drags as she collects her things. She swipes the cash on her way out, crumpling it in her fist.

“¿Ves lo que te dije? Eres un culero con todos.” (See what I told you? You’re an asshole to everyone)

He doesn’t flinch but his jaw flexes, a muscle ticking as he watches her brush past him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

She stops at the door, one hand resting on the knob as she glances back at him. “No sé qué está pasando entre tú y tu vecina, pero necesitas arreglarlo porque odio cuando actúas así.” (I don’t know what's going on between you and your neighbor, but you need to straighten it out because I hate it when you act like this)

With that, she unlocks the door and leaves, leaving him standing there in his living room, now feeling worse than he did before and he has no one to blame but himself.

He stares at the spot where she stood, the remnants of her perfume lingering faintly in the air. He doesn’t move for a long moment, caught in the crossroads of her parting words.

Finally, he curses under his breath and heads to the bathroom. The cool tile beneath his feet as he flips on the light, the hum of the fluorescent bulb filling the room. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edges so tightly—his knuckles go white.

The faucet sputters to life with a twist of his wrist, and he splashes cold water onto his face, droplets streaking down his cheeks and dripping onto his bare chest. It does nothing to clear the haze in his head.

When he looks up into the mirror, the man staring back at him looks just as wrecked as he feels.

This isn’t sustainable and he knows it. He can’t keep making a mess of every little thing in his life, can’t keep masking his despair with sex, whiskey, and cigarettes.

But knowing is one thing. Doing is another.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @almostfoxglove . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @phry-k . @larascorneroftheworld . @marisemonteiroo . @samanthajonees . @yellowbrickyeti . @bambisweethearts . @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack . @picketniffler . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @94namkooksworld . @prose-before-hoes . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

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probablyreadinsmut · 25 days ago

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Javier Peña X Afab!Reader one shot

Maneater

What if it were the other way around? You were the insatiable menace who fucked her way through Colombia and Javier Peña was the one who pined after you, but you never gave him the time of day, until now.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Onlyyyy. Alcohol consumption, language, Public groping, fingering, Oral (F receiving), PIV Sex (Unprotected, birth control discussed, wrap it before you tap it ppl). Couple of dick taps. Liiiiiitle bit 'o fluff and angst. Spanish nicknames. Overuse of 'Cariño and hermosa'. Bi reader. Time period relevant sexism and homophobia mentioned. Big 'ol praise kink. There was going to be more but I chickened out since it was my first time writing a full on sex scene.

A/N: This is purely self indulgent, Reader is Javiers DEA partner of several years. She's a little emotionally unavailable and knows how much Javi thirsts after her. Writing this bc it's that time of the month where I get the urge to howl at the moon like a bitch in heat so I have to channel it somehow.

Word Count: 4.3k

The vibes for this fic⬇️ I love imagining Javi to 80s music <3

Blog masterlist here

Bogata, Colombia. 1991.

The cigarette smoke hangs like a thick fog under the dim light above your booth. The jukebox is playing a song with a slow and sensual beat.

Everyone else had gone home for the evening, Steve had said Olivia was teething and he didn't want to leave Connie to deal with that alone. The rest of the guys had various excuses themselves but honestly you didn't give a shit, too busy scanning the bar over the rim of your glass for your next conquest. All the while Javier sits opposite, taking long, slow drags of his cigarette, just watching you. Like it was his favourite thing to do.

It was clear he had a thing for you, he wasn't exactly secretive about it. But you never gave him the time of day. Sure he was handsome and you'd bet your bottom dollar that he was a good fuck. However, you'd made it a rule to not shit where you eat.

So like a puppy waiting for scraps, he sits silently as your eyes flit from one man to another. He didn't blame you, the job you were both doing was stressful. Everyone has to have their outlets otherwise you'd go insane. Sometimes he wondered though, if there was more to it. If you needed a different body in your bed every night because it was a distraction from more than just the job. If only he knew.

"Slim pickins' tonight" It came as a mumble into the glass, finishing off the last of your vodka cranberry. "Maybe I'll go pay Helena a visit instead." You'd smirked as you said it. Helena was one of your informants, who much to your initial surprise and then sheer delight, had one day said to you that she'd always wanted to try being with a woman. You were more than happy to oblige.

And so your agreement was born, she gives you information in exchange for orgasm better than any of her clients could ever give her and you were working on getting her visa paperwork expidited.

You hadn't expected that when you came down to Colombia, but fuck if you didn't love the way she sounded when she came apart on your tongue.

Colombia wasn't exactly progressive when it came to same sex relations, so you didn't tell many people about it, for fear it could hurt her somehow. Her job. Her reputation and perhaps yours. Not that the states was much better either.

The thought of you being with anyone else always sparked this possessive jealousy in his chest, Javier knew he had no right. You'd made it clear long ago that it wasn't going to happen, but even so. He was conflicted, the idea of you being with another woman made his cock twitch in his jeans, of course it did, he was a simple man. But he was also a man who wanted you all to himself.

Exhaling a large plume of smoke above his head as he stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray, Javier decides enough is enough. It's now or never, feeling emboldened by the three glasses of Whiskey under his belt tonight.

"Cariño..." He starts as he gets up from his side to come sit beside you, blocking your view of anyone else in the bar, forcing you to just see him. "What do I have to do for you to see what's right in front of you? What do I have to do to get you to see me?" His voice is low and seductive but the way he's looking at you... Big soft brown eyes that portray the vulnerability he's been trying to hide. It's not just about sex for him, this runs deeper.

A small sigh leaves you, seeing the way he's gazing at you, like he wants to give you the whole world when you can't even give him a tiny fraction of space in your hesrt.

You had thought about it, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't. He's probably one of the most handsome men you've ever seen, a jawline that would make most women weep, eyes that under any other circumstances you would picture yourself getting lost in and those jeans. He knew what he was doing wearing jeans as tight as that.

But it's unethical. Against protocol. If Ambassador Noonan found out she'd reassign you for sure. Not him though, he's the guy, he'd just get a slap on the wrist and told to keep it in his pants in future. That's the way this environment worked. That's the way the world worked, women suffer the harsher consequences, while men get let off.

And then there was the part of you that didn't want to lead him on, to drop breadcrumbs for him leading him along a path he was hoping would bring him to a hot out of the oven loaf of bread, only to be greeted with something stale and inedible.

But right now, as his large hand has found its way to your knee under the table, alcohol clouding your judgement, your horny mind is saying 'One night won't hurt, right?'.

"Javi.. You know I can't give you what you want, right?" His fingers, trailing further up the inside of your thigh are distracting and that's what he's aiming for, to seduce you and deep down, he hopes it would change your mind.

"Hermosa, I don't know what you think I'm 'looking for' here. I just think..." He scooches closer, bringing his lips to your ear, fingers gently kneading at the fleshy part of your thigh "... That we both need some stress relief tonight, let me help you, hm?" He finishes his whispered offer by pressing a barely there kiss just below your ear, hips plush lips barely grazing your skin, sending heat flooding south in your body.

"Javi" The way you breathe his name has his dick getting hard already.

"Yes Cariño? C'mon use your words.." He purrs in your ear as his hand moves to cup your pussy over your jeans, applying enough pressure against your clit to make you bite down on your lip, stopping the moan that's threatening to spill from your mouth.

You're not stopping him, infact you're parting your legs for him wider under the table. You do want this. You do want him.

Turing your head to nuzzle your lips against his jaw, nipping lightly at the shaved skin there, your words a breathless plea "Javi please... I-I-I need... Just tonight. That's it..."

He pulls back enough to look into your eyes, seeing them heavily lidded with desire, he's barely touched you and you're falling apart for him already. It's everything he's dreamed of.

"Just tonight" He echoes before he goes for it, slanting his lips over yours, keeping himself restrained for now being in a public place, definitely not looking to be arrested for indecent exposure and thrown into a Colombian jail, at least the blood hadn't completely rushed to his cock just yet.

The kiss is electrifying, his hand leaving the space between your legs to cup your face, deepening the kiss as you melt into him, one hand slipping into his hair at the nape of his neck, the other finding its way to his thigh, sliding up, up, up.

With his body shielding you and the bar being as busy as it is, no one is taking any notice of the two of you, heavy petting getting more risque for being in public, the little gasp against his lips when you find him rock hard and straining against the thick denim, has his head spinning, pulling back to take a breather.

"We should-"

"Get out of here and go back to your place?" You're keen. It has him grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"It's like you read my fucking mind baby"

///

The moment you both step into his apartment, it's game over. A clash of teeth and tongues, slamming you into the wall without tearing his lips away from yours, his hands running all over your curves as your own hands grasp at his broad shoulders, pushing his leather jacket off him until it falls to the floor.

"I need you naked, right this fucking second" The growl in his tone has your pussy clenching around nothing, nodding eagerly as he starts to undress you. First it's your shirt, ripping it open, sending buttons flying, scattering in the entryway, leaving it hanging off you, a useless scrap of material. He'd feel bad but the thought of you having to wear one of his shirts to go home in, is too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

"Look at these... Perfect tits. Fuck me" He groans as he leans down, sucking on the swell of your breast, thumb rubbing over the lace, coaxing your nipple to harden. Your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his face, a hand tangled in his raven hair, holding him in place, a silent plea to keep going. God those fucking moans of yours are beautiful, all rational thought going straight to his dick.

"Javiii" It's a whiney little beg, as you're kicking your shoes off, feeling the dampness between your legs spreading by the second. "I- need-"

"I know... I've got you hermosa" Slowly, achingly so, he sinks to his knees in front of you, dragging his lips downwards, his breath hot against your skin, sucking and nibbling as he goes. Your head is tipped back agaisnt the wall, you don't dare look down at him, not yet. You can feel that fucker grinning against your stomach, knowing he's about to get the prize he covets most in this world.

"Look at me hermosa, I want you to watch everything I'm about to do you you. I want you to see what you've been missing this whole time."

He's quick to rid you of your jeans, Javier likes to tease and prolong the experience with women most of the time, but right now, when the object of all his desires is standing right in front of him, he can't do that. Not now he has you where he wants you, where he's wanted you since the first day you met.

And against your better judgement, you do as he says, looking down at him, his eyes are practically black with desire now, staring up at you through his lashes, looking sinful as fuck as he sits on his knees. All for you. Ready to worship at his altar. His religion? Pussy. His goddess? You.

"Fuuuck. You always wear skimpy little panties like this in the office? Dirty girl." He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your thong, tugging them down your thighs, all the while keeping steady eye contact with you, the smug satisfied smirk on his face has him so sure of himself, so sure that after tonight you'll be coming back for more.

Once they're off, he tucks them into the pocket of his jeans as a memento of this night and he wastes no time, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, diving in mouth first. Not rushing, but not taking his time either. There's a hint of desperation behind everything he's done so far tonight, a testament to how much he wants this.

You gasp and arch your back off the wall as the flat of his tongue slides between your soaked lips, one hand braced on the wall above your head while the other curls into his hair, gripping and tugging at it, urging him on. The low muffled groan that leaves him vibrates through you, he's getting drunk off the taste of you, the way you're gasping and moaning for him. All for him.

Skillfully working your clit with his tongue, you feel his free hand snaking up the inside of your thigh until he reaches his destination. Wet and slippery with the combination of his saliva and your juices, he teases your entrance with one thick finger, circling it slowly before he pushes inside. "Oh fuck" he hisses against your pussy "So fucking tight, knew you would be" And then without warning, a second finger breeches you, making you cry out his name.

"I know baby... I know, I've got you. You gonna cum for me hermosa, hmm? Gonna cum all over my fingers for me?" it's taunting, it's blinding pleasure, it's ecstasy. He finds that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes, pumping his fingers in a deep slow rhythm as you writhe above him already teetering on the brink when he suctions his lips against your clit and sucks. It's like an out of body experience. Like you're floating above yourself watching this all happen. Trembling as he holds you steady, working you through your orgasm with his fingers, but he's detached his lips from your clit, looking up at you from his knees, just admiring the way you shatter for him. Like a work of art. Jaw slack in a silent scream, breasts heaving beneath your lacy bra.

Right now, as your cum drips down his knuckles, he can't believe his fucking luck honestly.

Once you're lucid and you're no longer trembling, he removes his fingers, you whine at the loss of him. Gently setting your leg down, he rises in front of you and brings the sticky fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, moaning in approval as you watch on with renewed arousal.

"It's really not fair you know."

His lip curls into a mocking grin as he drops the now clean fingers from his lips, placing his hand beside your head against the wall, leaning in close enough for you to catch the heady scent of your arousal on his moustache. "What's not fair princesa? Was that not enough for you?" Smug bastard. Smug, proud bastard.

The way you suck your teeth and narrow your eyes at him, tells him he's winning. Slowly wearing you down just like he wanted. You're charmed by this. Not just because he eats pussy like it was his day job but by him.

"What's not fair... Is that I'm practically naked and you're still fully dressed."

"So I am. Maybe we should do something about that hm?"

Before you can even answer his hands are on your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist, lips finding yours in a heated kiss, tongue pushing past your teeth to entangle with yours, ensuring you taste yourself on him. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk you into the main living space towards his leather couch.

"You taste how fucking sweet you are? I could eat that pretty little pussy all day." Filthy. Absolute filth is coming out of his mouth right now and you feel yourself dripping onto him I return. You'd had a hunch he'd be like this but honestly? It's surpassing every expectation you did have.

You squeel as he tosses you down onto the couch and he admires the way it makes your tits bounce even in the confines of your bra, but he needs to see more, just like you do.

"Take it off. Or I will." Hottest fucking threat you've ever heard.

Sitting up slightly, you remove the remains of your shirt and bring your hands to your back to undo the clasp, all the while he's standing over you, watching you like a hawk.

"I'm not taking this off until you start getting undressed too Javier. It's a two way street." Now it's your turn to smirk, two can play that game, you both know what's about to happen so why the fuck is he not naked right now?

"Hm... Fairs fair I s'pose." With deft fingers, he starts to unbutton his shirt revealing a new patch of golden skin as he goes, toned chest that you've only ever caught slivers of when he decides he's going to get a little slutty with it in the office and doesn't quite button his shirt up all the way that day. You'd always wondered if it was for you.

The subtle lick of your lips and the way your pupils blow when his shirt falls open is something he'll be playing on repeat in his mind for years to come, on nights when it's just him and his hand, abusing his cock as he thinks about you and this moment right now.

Once that's off and on the floor, he's toeing off his shoes and unbuttoning those deliciously tight jeans. God bless this man and his inability wear anything that doesn't show off what he's got. Rightfully so.

Your eyes start at the dark happy trail of hair leading downwards, following his fingers as one button is undone, then the second and it then becomes ubundantly clear, he's not wearing boxers today. Seems you're not the only one who likes to push the boundaries of what you wear to the office. Or don't wear, in his case.

Now he does tease, now he has you wanting more, he's taking his sweet time, tugging the zipper unhurriedly, with a shit eating grin as he sees you clenching your thighs together, no doubt making a mess on his couch under you.

"What's the matter princesa? Impatient for something?" He knows what he's doing. You're not rising to it, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much you just want to yank those goddamn jeans down and jump his bones. Instead you play your ace card, undoing your bra just as slowly, the clasp pinging open, but you hold it against you, not letting it fall away just yet. Like a horny exchange of hostages. A challenge, waiting to see who will give in first.

It was him. Unable to hold himself back anymore, he shoves his jeans down his thighs, freeing his cock.

Your mouth waters at the sight, thick, around 8 inches and slightly curved. A little darker than the rest of him, veins protuding that you could practically feel on your tongue right now. Dark curls trimmed neatly around the base and balls. Beautiful. You wondered where the hell he was hiding that thjng in those jeans of his.

"Fairs fair, I s'pose" You parrot his words from earlier and pull away your bra, tossing it over the back of his couch with abandon. Exposing every inch of yourself to him now.

Before you can even process it, he's on you, pinning you into the couch cushions as he roughly palms your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers making you whimper and gasp under him, his lips attach to your neck, panting heavily against your skin as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between them.

By some miracle he remembers that birth control is a thing, removing his lips from your neck, looming over you, taut as a bow string, ready to snap any second.

"Do I need to go run and grab a condom or-?" Thank god he'd asked because you were so lost in the moment it wouldn't have occurred to you.

"I'm on the pill. We're good." With anyone else, random encounters, you'd been insisting on using condoms, but you trusted Javier and he trusted you.

"Thank fuck for that" the little giggle you let out is fucking adorable but he's not about to delay things further by telling you that, or god forbid, ruin the moment altogether.

Pushing your thighs apart with one hand, he strokes himself with the other, spreading the glossy pre-cum from tip to base.

"Ready for me hermosa?"

With an eager nod of consent, he notches himself at your entrance and slowly started to feed himself inside. Inch by inch. The delicious sting and stretch of him making you both groan in unison.

"Fuuuuuuck she's so tight"

And then all at once you're full of him, legs wrapping around his waist as he gives you a second to adjust, Stroking your cheek almost tenderly as he checks if you're okay before he starts to move.

The leather creaks under you as he saws in and out of your tight heat, almost all the way before he's plunging back in again, setting a deliberate slow, unchanging rhythm as he listens to your moans and sighs as cues of what you like. Steadily picking up his pace as he fucks you into the cushions, holding one of your legs in place around his waist as his other hand shoots out to grip the arm of the couch, tipping his head back as he's getting lost in his own pleasure. Your nails raking down his back is sending him for a loop, theres no way he's going to let himself cum yet, not this soon and not before you cum again.

Slipping his hands under your back for support, he sits up right, pulling you up with him, pulling a gasp from you.

Quickly you catch on, slipping your arms around his neck as you start to bounce on his dick, aided by him guiding your hip movements.

"Good girl, riding my fat cock so well. Look at you, bet you could make yourself cum like this huh?"

The praise alone has you circling the drain, desperate to hold off until you've ridden him a little longer.

"Javi!" You sob, crushing your lips against his as he thrusts up to meet your hips over and over again, swallowing your moans. Then he goes and slips his hand between the both of you, inching back slightly to give himself space to work, circling the pad of his thumb against your aching clit with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge, kissing him desperately as you meet your climax again, your moans drowned out by the sound of blood rushing to your ears.

It's like music to his fucking ears.

Quicker than you can register, he pulls out and flips you over onto your knees, a hand splayed out on the middle of your back gently pushing you down until you arch your ass into the air.

He slaps his dick against your ass cheek a few times before teasing it through your sopping folds, making you whine and wiggle your hips back begging him to sink back into you.

A low chuckle leaves him before he speaks, feeding his girth back into you at the same time. "You thought.. oh fuck... I was done with you? Not even close."

Sliding his hand up your spine until he's at the base of your neck, holding you down as the other hand tightly grips your hip for leverage, not giving you any time to come down from your release before he starts to fuck you again at a punishing pace. Your cheek is pressed against the leather, jaw slack, mouth hanging open dumbly, all you can do is grip at the couch cushions and get out garbled noises of pleasure.

He's ruining you in the best way possible.

"Jaaaaviiiiii!"

He's panting and groaning behind you, watching his cock disappearing into you over and over again, feeling his balls tightening, getting closer to his own release.

"Cum for me hermosa... I.. Oh fuck yes... Know you have another one in you. Cum. For. Me." He punctuates his words with hard, deep thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside you that has you screaming, pussy clenching around him. Seconds later he follows after you, spilling thick ropes of hot cum inside your abused cunt, lowering himself to lean over your back, groaning into your ear. That sound alone has your pussy pulsing, milking him for every last drop.

///

Javier was actually very attentive afterwards, checking you were okay, you felt completely boneless, slumped flat against the couch, sweaty chest sticking to the leather, completely fucked out but you were fine.

He'd gone to the bathroom to grab a warm wash cloth, cleaning you up between your thighs as you just lay there letting him take care of you.

He'd handed you his shirt, pulling back on his jeans before wandering into the kitchen to get you some water, somehow you managed to sit yourself up and pull it on, buttoning it up most of the way. Your hair was an absolute mess and the throbbing between your legs would be a reminder of him for hours to come.

"Here you go Cariño" His voice is soft now, a stark contrast from how he was when he was fucking you stupid.

You take the glass from him as he sits back on the couch, reaching for his cigarette, leaning back as he lights up and takes his first drag. Of course he's a 'cigarette after sex' kind of guy.

Your throat is so dry from how your long mouth had been hanging open for, he can still hear your screams of pleasure ringing in his ears even now.

Dropping your gaze to the glass in your hands, feeling like a piece of shit with what you're about to say to him. You didn't regret giving into him, but you regretted that you were now going to have to break his heart. You couldn't be the person he wanted you to be for him.

"Javi, I-"

He knows. He always knew. And that's what hurts the most. That he let himself think that this would change your mind. Not that he thought he could fuck you into it, but that you'd suddenly realise that he was what you were missing. "Don't. Don't say it. I already know." He sets the cigarette down in the ashtray on the coffee table before he turns to face you, reaching out to cup his hands over yours, with the saddest of smiles on his handsome face.

"I'm sorry Javi."

"Don't be. It's my fault for letting myself dream. You are my fucking dream Cariño. I'd wait as long as it takes for you to want me back, years If I had to."

He'd wait for you. He doesn't need to explain how he feels about you because his words and the way he's looking at you right now says it all and it's just too much.

"I know you would Javier and that's what scares me."

///

Tqglist for my mutuals, tysm if you take time to read this, lmk your thoughts <3

@almostempty @cheekychaos28 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @lovely-vamp-princess @morallyinept

#javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #narcos #narcos netflix #pedro pascal characters

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kirsteng42 · 11 months ago

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This when I officially fell in love with Javi P!!!! I always wanted Helena to come back at some point as they were just so good and gorgeous together, but no we got frigging Elisa and Gabby of which I didn’t like him with either. I love when Helena asks him for a kiss, they were so natural together and of course sexy as all hell!!!

JAVIER PEÑA’S HOTTEST MOMENTS

43. 50/139 votes → the tenderness Javi shows toward Helena in The Sword of Simón Bolivar

{+ bonus}

#javier peña #javi x helena #adria arjona #pedro pascal characters #the love of my lif #I wish I could watch Narcos for the first time

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milla-frenchy · 7 months ago

Text

And all that could have been

1k4 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: the memories of you don’t leave Javi, reminding him of his past mistakes

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Angst, piv, creampie, mentions of SA (not by Javi), no age specified. Pics for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions. Writer chose not to use all warnings

a/n: this is for @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge 🥳 Prompt was "last kiss/Javi p"

Thank you @toxicanonymity for the spanish translation 🖤 @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @morallyinept for your amazing Javi character database and dialogue 🌻 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

The title and some sentences said by Javi are from And all that could have been by Nine inch nails

Javi was at his apartment with Helena. She was a hooker and one of his informers, but she meant more than that. He cared about her, and they saw each other regularly at his place.

“¿Qué harás este fin de semana?” (what are you doing this weekend?), he asked her.

“Iré a Medellín” (I’m going to Medellin)

“Bueno, tendré que buscarme otra” (I guess I’ll have to find another girl)

“Buena suerte con eso. Todas nos vamos a Medellín” (good luck with that. We’re all going to Medellin)

His heart sank and worry crept into him. Sensing a very familiar feeling, which had never left him since last year.

“¿Helena? ¿De quién es esta fiesta?” (whose party is it?)

Anxiety took over him, past events playing over and over in his head. Haunting him. And he thought about what happened a year ago. What happened to you.

You didn't plan for any of that. Neither Javi nor you did.

At first, he was a client almost like the others, except that he worked for the DEA, and bit by bit he asked you for information on the sicarios. He always treated you right, never made you feel uncomfortable. You had other clients and you weren’t the only hooker he used to fuck.

You got to know him and trust him as the weeks passed, as he also seemed to, until you realized that he was no longer fucking anyone but you. You used to see him in his apartment more and more often, and less and less at the brothel. When his cock was buried in your core and his eyes looked with yours, his gaze was different. Soft and caring.

One night at his place he lit a cigarette and was smoking it by the window. Looking thoughtfully at the city lights as you were lying in bed, naked, admiring all of him. The muscles of his back, his shoulders, his tanned skin.

When he sat on the bed, his thigh against yours, his hand caressed your stomach which was gradually returning to normal breathing.

“¿Por qué no paras?” (Why don’t you stop?), he asked.

It wasn't exactly jealousy or possessiveness, more of a concern. You both knew what that implied. You had always been careful not to talk about those feelings you both felt. Scared that it would complicate everything.

He used to try to make you stay at his apartment longer and longer, but of course you always had to return to the brothel. To make some money. To have sex with the men you hated and who disgusted you. Trying to make it bearable you were thinking of something else. You were thinking of Javi.

“Renuncia a tu trabajo” (quit your job),” he finally asked one day.

“No puedo, Javi” (I can’t, Javi)

The more weeks and months with Javi passed, the less you could bear to go back to the brothel. But what other choices did you have? Tears threatened to roll down your cheeks and you batted your eyelashes to try to hold them back.

“You could stay here, with me. You don’t need to go back.”

“You know I can’t. They would find me, and God knows what they would do to me.”

“I’ll protect you. You know I would never let anything happen to you.”

You hugged him as the tears fell, unable to hold them back any longer. You wanted to quit your job and stay with him, but it was impossible. They made sure to let you know what happened to the girls who tried to leave.

“Necesito sentirte dentro. Porfa, Javi.” (I need to feel you inside me, Javi. Please.)

He caressed your cheek and wiped your tears like only he knew how to do. He kissed you with his warm, luscious, caring lips. Soft and delicate. When he lay between your legs you wrapped them around his waist to feel him deeper. His nose brushed against yours, and he kissed your forehead. Your hips were leading a perfect slow dance. He rubbed himself against you in the way he was sure would make you cum. His eyes fixed on yours. The eyes of a man in love, and you started to cry again.

“Don’t cry, hermosa (beautiful). I’ll take care of you and you’ll never have to go back there. Do you trust me?”

You trusted him. With all your heart. You wiped your tears and took his cheeks in your hands.

“I do, Javi.”

He leaned towards you and kissed you, until you came on his shaft, your pussy squeezing him perfectly and making him moan, and you felt his jolts at each rope of cum, painting your walls.

You didn't go back, he took you to a safe house. He exfiltrated you.

And for several days, you only saw Javi.

That evening you laughed and the atmosphere was as light as a summer breeze. You looked at each other smiling like teenagers, and he kissed your hands. Then he held you tight against him. You felt safe and free.

Later that night, as your hips rolled while riding him, you leaned into him and said, “dame un beso” (give me a kiss).

He caressed your cheek as your hands ran through his hair and you kissed. You needed to feel him more. Deeper. You moved away from him and got on all fours, looking over your shoulder as his hands caressed your hips. He slipped into you, in one slow, deep thrust. No one had ever brushed your walls the way he did. Without brutality, without clumsiness, without impatience, without hurting you. Just in a perfect way, like he always knew what to do. Stroking your clit when you needed it, until you came on his cock. His torso enveloped your back and he kissed your skin, before quickly thrusting in to claim you, grunting.

You just knew that you belonged to each other, in the healthiest, most beautiful way.

In the early morning, he kissed your forehead and lightly stroked your cheek to not wake you up, and left for the office.

In the afternoon, you heard a knock on the door, and thought Javi had forgotten his keys. Your hand grabbed the handle of the white door and you opened it without taking the time to think.

It wasn't Javi.

In the late afternoon, his colleagues told him that a hooker had been killed by sicarios. His heart sank and he almost puked, as if his gut instinctively knew who he would find there. When they lifted the sheet, he fell to his knees on the ground.

Your mutilated and bruised body lying on its back left no doubt about what you had suffered. What they had done to you.

He went back to his apartment and drank until he couldn't remember his name.

A few days later, he visited your grave and placed white flowers on it.

He thought about how he had kissed your forehead that morning. Not knowing that it would have been the last kiss he had ever given you.

“In my nothing, you meant everything to me”, he murmured.

When the memories finally faded, he realized Helena had already left his apartment.

During the following days he had been organizing surveillance in Medellin, with Carillo and Steve. Taking photos, watching the Sicarios arriving one by one at the hotel.

Hours passed without news of Helena, and worry tightened his heart. He couldn't relive that. He was consumed with anxiety.

When he finally found her, he shot the man who was abusing her. Rushed to cover her bruised body. He failed once again, even though he arrived in time for Helena, he wasn’t able to prevent what had happened to her.

He thought of you, not a day he had not. He thought of all that could have been.

When he visited your grave, and saw that only his last faded bouquet was there, he couldn't hold back his tears.

“I can still feel you, even so far away” he breathed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry…”

And he chose to let his anger consume him, rather than letting the tears flow. On his knees in the cemetery, he screamed. He was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were white.

He would dedicate his life to bringing them all down. Even if it meant falling with them. But one thing was sure: Gacha would fall before him.

***********

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

@janaispunk thank you for the inspiring mood board 🙏

Thank you for reading 🙏

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #narcos #angst #javier peña angst #javier peña smut #friends of juice collective

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cherry-holmes · 1 year ago

Text

Glimpse of a life with Javier Peña (series)

Chapter 10

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Javier is desperate to save what he had built with you. Could you trust him again?

SERIES MASTERLIST

Previous chapter

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Lots of angst. Sad!Reader & Sad!Javi. Mentions of pregnancy (but not what you’re thinking). Mentions of oral sex female receiving. Mentions of violence typical of the series.

A/N: So, Halloween Hangover is REAL🤕 but I managed to survive the weekend. However, I couldn’t managed to get to the university today😅 Anyway! WELCOME TO CHAPTER 10!❤️✨ I hope you like it🙏🏻🙈

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You didn't want to get out of bed. All you desired was to stay there all day, curled up in the cocoon of your misery.

The pain in your heart felt suffocating, and your eyes were swollen from hours of crying. You cried until exhaustion pulled you into a deep sleep.

As the sun's rays gradually pierced through your blinds, there was no escaping the relentless march of time. When you finally found the strength to get out of bed, you made your way to the bathroom for a cold shower.

It was Sunday, and you had the day off from work. Instead of going to the embassy, you stayed alone in your apartment, replaying the painful conversation with Javier in your mind. The hurtful words still weighed on your heart, and you couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal.

You tried to watch TV or read a book, but nothing seemed to distract you from the image of Javier. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Was it that difficult for him to stop seeing her? A tear fell onto the page of your book, one that hadn't turned since you opened it.

What if he slept with her while he was "waiting" for you? Maybe he was infatuated with her, maybe he cheated on you...

Your stomach turned just thinking about it. The uncertainty and pain had made a hole on your chest.

You went to the kitchen, but the fridge was empty. During the shower, you searched for a bottle of shampoo and soap, realizing that, little by little, your life had become intertwined with Javier's.

The absence of Poncho's bowl in the corner of your kitchen counter was a stark reminder the everything you needed and had was now at his apartment – even your heart.

You returned to your bed, hoping to get at least a couple of hours of sleep to avoid the hurt.

Javier, on the other side, couldn't stop thinking about the terrible things he had said yesterday. He felt like a complete asshole. He had spent the entire night thinking about you, the unfortunate words that came out of his mouth, and your tears. Your eyes were full of hurt and disappointment, and he couldn't forgive himself for causing you that pain.

He cared more about making it up to you than the threats of Diego Ibarra. He believed they were just empty promises from a drunk man. However, he knew he had to address the situation and eliminate the threat. Helena had information, but Javier thought that it would be just drunken ramblings.

He knew he had to rebuild your trust and repair the damage he had done to your relationship. He thought about ways to make it right, not just by avoiding Helena but by showing you how much you meant to him. He needed to convince you that you were his priority and that he would choose you over anything or anyone else.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The persistent knocking on your door woke you up. Judging by the time displayed on the alarm clock beside your bed, you'd only managed to sleep for an hour and a half. You climbed out of bed with caution, your bare feet barely making a sound on the floor.

Moving towards the door in silence, you paused for a moment before discreetly peering through the peephole. On the other side, Javier stood, his ear pressed against the door. When he knocked again, you instinctively pulled back.

He called your name softly, his tone gentle. "Please open the door; we have to talk," he urged. However, you remained immobile. "I know you're right there; I can smell your perfume," he added, causing your cheeks to flush.

"I don't want to see you," your voice still carried the traces of sleep.

A lingering silence followed, stretching into what felt like minutes, yet you knew he hadn't moved.

"I'm sorry," he finally pleaded, his voice tinged with remorse. "I'm an idiot, I know."

Javier's apology lingered in the hallway between you two. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and you were torn between letting him in and keeping him away from you.

You decided to speak, your voice soft but tinged with a mix of emotions. "You hurt me," you finally said. "I don't know if you can understand how deeply."

There was a pause on the other side of the door before he responded, "I know, bonita. I can't bear the thought of you being hurt because of me."

You found yourself torn. On one hand, you still cared for him deeply, but on the other, the hurt from the night before was very fresh. You leaned against the door and let out a sigh. "What do you want, Javier?"

His voice was earnest as he replied, "I want to make things right. I don't want to lose you."

You considered his words, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. After a moment, you hesitated but eventually opened the door to let him in.

Javier's expression was a mixture of relief and gratitude. His big, brown, puppy eyes staring at you with hurt and regret.

"May I come in?" He asked.

You nodded, and he stepped inside as you closed the door behind him. The atmosphere in your apartment was thick with tension, and you found it hard to meet his gaze.

He broke the silence. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said what I said. It was wrong, and I didn't mean it. Please, forgive me."

You sighed, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. "What you said really hurt me. It made me doubt everything between us."

He approached you, reaching out to gently touch your cheek. "I know, I know." He sounded desperate, his voice thick with emotion. "But you must know that you mean everything to me."

"Then why didn't you choose me over her?" Your eyes welled up with tears again, "I'm your girlfriend, Javier. I just don't understand why you would risk us for this."

"I choose you over anything and anyone, mi amor." He took your head between his hands, lifting it up so you could see right into his desperate gaze. "I know it doesn't justify me, but between what she said about Diego and the frustration of finding a solution it made me talk shit that I don't really mean." Your eyes were full of tears and hurt, it broke his heart. When he talked again, you could perceive the fear in his voice, "I-I don't want to lose you. Te amo como no tienes idea, preciosa. Por favor, ¿qué tengo que hacer para que me perdones?"

Your hands went to his wrists. You weren't sure if you wanted them off your skin or closer. However, you didn't allow your emotions took over your brain.

"I..." you needed to ask, but you were so afraid of his response. But you have to, you have to... "Did you ever cheat on me?" The words came out of your mouth in a shaking whisper, "I mean, not just with her, but with anyone."

"What? No, of course not, baby," he looked panicked, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes and the firmness of his voice. "I would never do such a thing to you." He hesitated but then added, "I've never paid for sex, I want you to know that. You well know I would never force anyone to be with me; I'm not that kind of person."

For Javier, the seconds you spent looking into his eyes, hesitating about your next move, felt like an eternity. He would beg on his knees for your forgiveness if necessary. He knew he wouldn't die of love, but he didn't want live a life without yours. So when you finally spoke, his heart shattered at his feet.

"I think we should take a break."

"Are you breaking up with me?" the question came out of his mouth in a shaking breath.

You didn't want to say it, but you didn't want to give him hope either. "I just need space to think about this. I can't be in a relationship where I'm not a priority."

"You're my number one priority, bonita. I'm fully committed to what we have," he said, his voice full of emotion.

"Please, just leave," you pleaded, tired. He attempted to add something else, anything, but you cut him off. "Goodbye, Javier."

He let his arms fall to his sides, his fists clenching as anxiety crept up his body. But he nodded, defeated.

You followed him to the door, and when he was out, he turned to you again and said, "Probably this wouldn't be in my favor, but you should know that I'll call Helena today," he said, but it didn't surprise you. "I have to ask her about Diego, it's just that. I swear I won't call her again," he promised.

You shrugged, as if you didn't care, as you said, "Haz lo que quieras, Javier."

The hurt on his eyes was evident. His heart sank on his chest as a lump formed in his throat. He couldn't believe he was losing you.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The first few days, Javier offered take you home after work so you don't have to be alone at night.

"First of all, I don't need you to protect me," you had told him, "Secondly, Martha offered to take me," you let him know.

You did your best to avoid him, even when you inevitably crossed paths in the office's kitchen or in the hallways, and he attempted to talk to you. He was doing his best to be patient, but he missed you so damn much. He felt a constant pang in his chest, especially when he saw you or when he longed for your company at night. You missed him too, feeling a hole in your chest.

When you were a child, you used to be always sick. Your grandmother used to say it was because you had a weak immune system due to always being sad about your family's problems. However, your mother always said you faked the symptoms because you were too spoiled and didn't want to go to school.

When your father left, you were seriously ill for weeks, and you even had to be hospitalized for a stomach bug. The doctor said it was related to your anxiety and your immune system responding to your sadness.

Being separated from Javier had taken a toll on your physical well-being. You had been experiencing nausea for a couple of days, which you initially attributed to stress. However, one of those days, you called in sick at work. You had been throwing up since the afternoon before, and in the morning, you felt terrible.

At first you panicked at the intrusive thought that you might be pregnant. Even though you convinced yourself it couldn't be, you took a pregnancy test.

It was negative, of course. You thought that being pregnant would be the worst thing that could happen to you at that moment. Becoming a mother was something you always wanted, but not like this, not at this stage of your life.

You sighed in relief when you saw the result, but still couldn't shake off the fact that you felt so unwell. In the midst of the sickness, you found yourself missing Javier even more. Despite your best efforts to push him away, there was a hole in your life that only he seemed to fill.

••••••••••

It was like a deja vú, when you were sleeping on your couch and you heard a knock on your door. You decided to ignore whoever was at the other side, you just wanted to sleep. Then, you heard his voice calling your name. It was Javi and, honestly, you were too weak to fight back.

''C'mon in,'' you mumbled, not even making an attempt to get out the couch.

Javier entered, concern etched across his face. He noticed you lying there, pale and unwell. The apartment was dim, and he moved cautiously, trying not to disturb you.

"You don't look well," he said softly.

"Thank you?" You couldn't help but smile a little.

"I heard you called in sick at work. I wanted to check on you," he said, kneeling beside you, his hand caressing your hair and your forehead. ''You have a fever,'' he sounded concerned.

''I know,'' you said, your eyes closed, absorbing his touch and his presence. ''Connie came and prescribed some medicine. It worked, actually. I was worse.''

''Connie? She didn't even call me,'' he furrowed. ''Why didn't you call me?''

''I am not your responsibility, Javier. And I asked her not to,'' you answered.

''Don't call me like that,'' he whispered, clearly hurt.

''Why not? It's your name,'' you forrowed, but your eyes were still close.

'''Cause it sounds like you don't love me,'' he whispered, hurt lingering in his voice.

You opened your tired eyes, finding him close to you, and you gave him a weak smile, ''Siempre te voy a amar,'' you confessed. It was true, and you were too tired to pretend otherwise.

Javier's eyes softened, and he moved a little closer. "También te amo, mucho más de lo que imaginas," he admitted with a hint of vulnerability.

You couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions as you looked into his eyes. There was still so much love between you, but it was buried under the weight of recent events. You reached out and touched his cheek gently, and Javier leaned into your touch.

"I miss you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to make things right, but I understand if you need more space."

You thought for a moment, your feelings a swirling mess. Finally, you said, "I don't want to lose what we had."

Javier nodded, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Me neither."

He allowed you to sleep throughout the afternoon, and when you woke up again, he had prepared dinner for the two of you. Honestly, you thought that probably he would return to work or his apartment, but you were glad he didn't.

You were feeling slightly improved, enough to stand up and join him in the kitchen.

"I did my best," he said, presenting to you his attempt of caldito de pollo.

You were indeed very hungry but still felt a bit weak in the stomach. Despite that, you made an effort to eat.

"It's not bad, actually," you admitted, making him smile with pride. "I didn't know you could actually cook."

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve," he winked playfully, and you blushed at his charming response. His hand reached for yours, caressing the tip of your fingers, his playful demeanor gradually shifted into a more serious one. He gently squeezed your hand, his eyes searching yours for a moment of sincerity.

"Listen, there's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice soft but uncertain. "I hope you don't mind, I use your bathroom."

You looked at him, a mix of curiosity and amusement due to his peculiar confession. "It's not a crime to use someone's bathroom, Javier."

He smirk as his gaze dropped to the table, and he continued, "I found the box of the pregnancy test on the sink."

Your heart raced as his words sank in. You had forgotten to throw away the box; you had only discarded the test stick. You hadn't expected him to find it.

"I'm here for you, no matter what," he reassured you, his eyes filled with sincerity. "You won't face this alone."

You shook your head in surprise. "Wait, what?"

"I mean it," he answered, determination in his eyes. "I know I messed things up, but I want to fix it up with you." His hands captured yours, and you could see a sparkle in his eyes. Oh, no. "I'm not saying this just because of the baby, but if this is going to happen right now, I want to do it with you."

"Javier, I..." you tried to say, but he was so eager to share his plans.

"I'm serious," he gently interrupted you. "After I finish my work here, we'll go to Laredo. I have a house, and I can work on my father's ranch, and..."

"Javi, I'm not pregnant," you finally said it, and he seemed taken aback.

Javier blinked in surprise. "You're not pregnant?" His voice carried a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

You shook your head. "No, I'm not. I just got sick, and for a moment, I thought it might be something else, but the test was negative."

"Oh," you noticed that the sparkle had disappeared, but he also appeared somewhat relieved. "I'm sorry; I made the connection between your symptoms and the tests, and I..."

"It's okay, I also thought I was pregnant due to my symptoms. I've been feeling nauseous the whole week," you explained.

"And why didn't you tell me?" He asked, sounding a bit hurt. "We see each other every day at work. Even if we're apart, you can always talk to me, especially about something as significant as you thinking you're carrying my child."

The statement made you flush at the mere thought of actually having a child with him. You couldn't help but wonder if everything he was saying when he still thought you were pregnant was real for him. Did Javier have the capacity for such commitment? Hadn't he been scared of marriage, as you had heard?

Of course, you had thought about what it would be like to marry Javier Peña, but you never wanted to rush anything. If it was meant to happen between you, it would happen in its own time.

"It's not that I didn't want to tell you. I just thought it was a false alarm, and I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily."

He nodded, understanding your perspective. "I appreciate that, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, and I want to be a part of your life, no matter what."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Javier spent the entire weekend at your apartment, taking exceptional care of you. Nausea still lingered, but the vomiting had subsided, and your color began to return to your face. He made sure you ate well, stayed hydrated, took your medicines on time, and rested as much as you needed.

He even brought Poncho back to your place so he could feed him without leaving you. You also noticed that he'd bought a larger bowl and more food for the fish, showing how well he'd been looking after your little aquatic companion.

Despite his attentiveness, you and Javier hadn't progressed beyond some innocent caressing. There were no kisses, and he hadn't tried to invite himself into your bed. You had set boundaries, which he respected, understanding that you were still hurt from the past.

You knew it might be best to create some space between the two of you, not to give him false hope, but at the same time, you couldn't resist having him by your side. His presence made you feel like you were floating over the moon. You craved his warmth, his touch, and his brown eyes, just as much as he yearned for the same from you.

You wished you had more self-control over your heart in matters of Javier Peña, because you knew he could easily be the total ruin of you if you allowed him. You found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His presence wrapped around you like a warm, comforting blanket, and despite your attempts to keep a safe distance, you couldn't help but crave his touch, his smile, his everything.

Yes, you still felt angry and upset about everything that had happened, but you couldn't deny how much you wanted to be with him, to give him every single piece of you and claim every piece of him as your own.

So, you had to decide if you were willing to risk it all to be with him again or spend the rest of your life wondering what would it be.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was Monday, and you were in your room getting ready to head back to work. Javier, who had heard you showering so early, knocked on your bedroom door.

"Are you sure you're ready for work?" he asked, concern for your health still visible on his features.

You saw him through your vanity mirror as you put on your earrings. "I don't survive on air, Javi," you said, adding a touch of humor to your comment.

"Don't worry about that. I can cover the expenses for the days you need to recover," he sincerely offered.

You stood up and approached him. When he looked at you, he was mesmerized by your beauty, and one look from you was enough to weaken his knees. You made him crave every morsel of your love, and he knew he had to earn it. So when your delicate hands cupped his face, with your thumbs brushing his cheeks, he closed his eyes to savor your touch, feeling like a man who had stumbled upon an oasis in the middle of a desert.

"That's so sweet, Javi," you whispered. Then you leaned in to reach his lips.

Your kiss conveyed warmth and tenderness, a silent promise that you still cared deeply for him, despite the complications between you. Javier's eyes opened slowly as you pulled away, and he felt a mix of emotions swirling within him. "You've done so much for me, Javi. I'm really grateful for your help."

His lips curved into a warm, gentle smile. "I'll always be here for you," he said, caressing your face. The sincerity in his eyes was undeniable, and it touched your heart.

"No more secrets, Javi." As you said that, Javi's eyes lighted up with hope and relief. "If we're going to be together, we have to trust each other."

He nodded like a child, a smile adorning his feature, "No more secrets, I promise."

"And you're not going to see Helena, ever." You waited for another round of stubbornness, but instead, he nodded immediately, looking into your eyes with determination.

"Yes, of course, baby," he said finally, his thumb softly caressing your cheek..

"I'm going to trust you, and I would let you meet with other informants," you continued, and he could see the determination and seriousness in your reddened eyes. "But if you ever, ever, betray me – we're done and you won't see me again."

Javier swallowed hard, his eyes softened as he looked at you like a scolded puppy.

"I don't usually give second chances, but this is your third one," you warned, "so review your priorities."

"You're my priority," he promised, drawing closer as his hands encircled your waist as he leaned in to gently kiss your lips, your cheeks, and then he focused on the space between your jawline and your shoulders, planting sweet pecks on your delicate skin. You smelled delicious, delicate and femenine. Javier was starving for your body, your warm, your kiss.

"We're gonna be late," you warned, but he didn't stopped tracing your neck with his lips.

"I've missed you," his hands clenched around your hips, pushing your body back to your bed.

"Javi..." you tried to insist, but he knew exactly how to make you feel good.

"Shhh, I know you missed me as much as I did," his hands lifted you enough to get you over the bed, where you laid down as his hands started working on lift your pencil skirt.

Quickly, he get rid of your tights, along with your panties and your heels. "Fuck," he said as he finally saw your already wet folds, "you don't have idea how much I missed your pussy," he groaned.

Before you could say anything, his face hide between your legs, making you gasp and get lost on a wave of pleasure.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The end of September arrived, and your relationship with Javier had evolved in ways you both had never anticipated. The love between you two was undeniable, and you found yourselves deeply entwined in each other's lives. Every day with him was filled with love and laughter, and the nights were passionate and intimate.

Javier was a passionate and caring boyfriend, always attentive to your wishes and needs, taking you on romantic dates and cherishing the time you spent together. The sex was awesome, more than you could ever imagine. He introduced you to his father, albeit through a phone call, and you did the same with your sisters and your grandfather.

Your bond seemed to be heading toward a serious commitment, and you couldn't help but think about what he said when he thought you were pregnant.

Suddenly, you found yourself pondering the idea of marriage more and more. What would it be like to build a future with Javier? A family. Your heart told you it was what you wanted, but your mind was cautious, telling you that you should take things slow. You knew that you should be out of Colombia before forming a family, when both of you were safe and have time to talk about it. For now, you decided to enjoy the present with him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Javier was driving to work with you. His right hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road.

"Ay, no," you murmured, and he looked at you.

"What's the matter, bonita?" He asked, his brow a little bit forrowed.

"I forgot my coffee," you pout, "I left it on the table."

"Want me to buy you one?" He offered, making you smiled.

"You're the best, you know that?" You said as your hand reached the back of his head and scratched his scalp, causing a pleasant sensation run down his spine.

Javi pull over on the first coffee shop he saw and crossed the street to buy coffee for the two of you.

He only last about ten minutes ordering, and when he was about to pay, hell broke loose.

The sound of gunfire and people screaming filled the air. His instincts kicked in, and his hand reached for the gun tucked in his back. Panic spread like wildfire as people scattered in all directions, searching for a place to hide. All he could think about was you. He had left you in his truck...

Javier stepped out of the restaurant and witnessed chaos unfolding. A car sped down the street, disappearing around a corner. His heart sank as he noticed the damage: bullet holes riddled his truck, shattered windows littered the street, and dust hung in the air. But you were nowhere to be seen.

Fear gnawed at him as he realized you were alone in the midst of this chaos. Without a second thought, he raced towards his truck, not knowing if you were safe, injured, or worse.

Javier's ears buzzed, and the echo of his own racing heart pounded inside his head as he approached the truck. He was terrified, hesitant to confirm what he feared most. The thought of your injured body overwhelmed him, but he had to know.

As he neared, he noticed the passenger door was wide open. His heart sank as he first saw your feet, and then he spotted you, lying face down on the hard ground, surrounded by shattered glass.

Panic seized him; you weren't moving.

NEXT CHAPTER

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