#javi and helena

[kirsteng42]

This is my preferred scene of the 2, I love the whole scene in his apartment. They obviously meant something to each other. He just looks so god damn good here and she is beyond beautiful. I always hoped she would come back in S2, but it was that Gabbi and it was at her place…

Pedro post-Oberyn arm muscles appreciation post

[perotovar]

Come here. What? Give me a kiss. Give me a kiss.

NARCOS (2015-2017) 1.02 "The Sword of Simón Bolivar"

[fuegogiiirl]

Four walls

Pairing: Javier Peña x Helena Sotomayor

Word count: 5.4 k

Summary: Helena gets pregnant with Javi's baby and decides to keep it a secret. When he accidentally discovers it, their relationship takes an unexpected turn.

(The story is set before the narcos meeting at Las Margaritas in Medellín).

Tags: angst, slow burn, romance, hidden feelings, pregnancy, hidden pregnancy, mentions of sex, fluff

Author's note: This is my first time writing Javier Peña and my first time posting my writing, so it really is a speacial piece to me. I've always loved Javi and Helena together and hoped we'd get to see more of them in Narcos, or at least get to read fics about the two of them. I see many people felt the same but still, there's so little about them. I'm here to change that, enjoy! xx

P.S.: English in not my native language, so pls be kind.

It's not possible. That was her first thought when she found out the week before.

This can’t be real. They had been careful. She was on the pill.

And yet, it was true, and it was the last thing Helena needed in her life: she was pregnant with Javier Peña's baby.

She knew from the start that it was different with Javier, unlike anything she had experienced before. She was used to being objectified, being tossed around and used by men, something she had learned to endure in order to survive. But with Javier, it had always been different. From the very beginning, he treated her as an equal. Everything felt so easy and before she realized it, she was in too deep.

She knew it was a dangerous game, letting herself get lost in the daydream that she might have something real with him. She knew how he was with women; his reputation echoed through the brothels of Bogotá. She was also aware that their relationship was rooted in two things: her role as his informant, and sex. Still, it had been going on for several months, which was unusual for both of them, and over time, their dynamic had shifted. She began refusing his money and staying over for the night; he started coming to her place during the day and even picking her up and giving her rides from time to time. No doubt, the sex was amazing. But there had to be more to it. Over time, he involuntarily let her see more of him – a side that contrasted with the cold, grumpy exterior the world saw - and she liked what she saw. He could be tender, holding her in his arms and stroking her back with his calloused fingers. He could be genuinely interested, asking about her life and telling her bits about his own. He could be caring, always making sure she felt good with him. He could even be worried, and although he tried to hide it, it didn’t get past her. It was there in his deep brown eyes, in the way he scanned her from head to toe whenever he saw her, searching for any sign of discomfort or injury.

She wondered if he was like this with all his girls. She had been tempted to ask Vanessa but she never did, afraid that the answer would shatter something inside her. Without knowing the truth, she could hold onto this little fantasy, keeping it alive in her heart as days in Colombia were getting harder and harder. She knew she did mean something to him, that he cared for her in his own way and even enjoyed her company.

So she shut the alarming voice in her head and locked it away in the back of her mind, letting herself enjoy this state somewhere between reality and fiction, where she gave all of herself to this man and forced herself to not think of the fact that she was most likely just another fling to him, one of a hundred others. She even went so far as to hand in a fake medical report to the brothel about a made-up chlamydia infection and disappeared for weeks. To Javier's bed. She knew it was very selfish, that she should be thinking of her son and "working" for the visa to get them out, in hopes of a better and safer life, but she couldn't help herself. She was craving to be in his arms. He always made her feel so good. He touched her in a way that was always reverent, even when he was treating her a bit rough, never causing her any pain, only delicious pleasure. He always kept her close to him, having an arm around her waist or on the small of her back, pressing soft kisses to her lips, cheeks, jaw, neck or gently stroking her hair as she fell asleep on him. It was as if he always wanted her close to him, close enough to feel her, to touch and breathe her in, something she was not familiar with from the other men she encountered during her "job". But then again, Javier was different from any other men she'd met her whole life. He made her feel like nobody else. He almost made her feel... loved.

It was a silly thing to think, anyway. And holding the medical report confirming she was pregnant, it not only felt silly, but overly irresponsible, too. She was about two months along, which aligned perfectly with the time of the faked sick leave, meaning there could possibly be only one person who could be the baby’s father: Javier Peña.

She had already been suspicious, but the ultrasound left no room for guessing: she was pregnant. She had never felt so alone, so scared, standing in front of the old hospital building, clutching the papers to her chest and letting the tears stream down her cheeks.

She knew he wouldn't want this. She knew very well he wasn't a relationship-kind-of-a-man, let alone a family man. He had told her about Lorraine, about how he left her at the altar and deep down she knew that someone who left his own fiancée on their almost wedding day would not commit to his informant, and the thought hurt her more than she was willing to admit. Plus, she already had her son, Mateo. If she couldn't imagine Javier with one kid, she sure as hell couldn't with two.

She also knew that while Javi wasn't one to do relationships, he was a man who took responsibility. She knew he was a man with a good heart who would see it as his obligation to help her in a situation that they had hurled themselves into together. She knew he would push the right buttons to get her a visa without a second thought. Had she wanted to abort the baby, he would look for a clinic where it was safe and would pay for the process. Had she wanted to keep it, he would provide financial support and make sure to get her safely to the U.S. He would make sure to take responsibility and do his obligation.

But she didn't want to be an obligation to him. She wanted to keep this baby, that she was sure about. But she couldn't bear the thought of finding a check from Javi in her mailbox every month, a sour reminder of how she and their baby were nothing but an obligation to him, something he didn't plan or want but felt the need to take care of, in his own way. She didn't want his money. She wanted all or nothing with Javier Peña, she’d realized. She wanted to be his all or his nothing.

And as her heart broke at the realization that she would never be his everything, she chose to be his nothing instead.

She decided it was best she didn't say anything about the baby. This way, at least, she would save herself from seeing his cold expression when she tells him she is pregnant with his child, from the painful conversation about how he doesn't do commitment and from whatever unexpected reaction comes out of this man at an announcement like that.

It took her a few days to compose herself, she canceled her plans and even refused to see Javier, telling him she was sick. She only went to meet up with Vanessa after she’d called her that they were going to need her the next weekend in Medellín. Helena said nothing about her pregnancy and agreed to join them for the weekend.

This was her chance. Whatever this meeting in Medellín was about, it seemed to be important. If she could get useful intel for Javier, she would demand the visa she had been long waiting for and get out of this country with her son for good. What she would do after that and where she would go, she had no idea. But it was an issue she didn't have to face right now.

Right now, she had one thing to do. She needed to see Javier for the last time before Medellín, to talk through the plan. She knew he wasn't exactly fond of sending her in and she postponed telling him about it as long as she could. Merely living in Colombia was like skating on thin ice, let alone mingling with cartel members and spying for the DEA. Javi knew this better than anyone, and while he expressed his concern, he didn't do a thing to speed up the process for her visa at the embassy. Helena knew she was good at her job, and that Javier most likely wanted her to gather more intel for him before letting her go.

Helena sighed and looked into the mirror. She had no energy to dress up and get herself pretty for him, the pregnancy giving her a hard day today, making her sick with nausea and feeling weak... not that it mattered. Not that there was a point in trying to impress him.

She grabbed her bag and her keys and brushed away a single drop of tear rolling down her cheek. She could do this. Just for one more night, she needed to pretend that everything was just as it had been before. Then she would go to Medelleín and do what she had been doing for the past couple of years for the last time, so she could get that visa. Then she would leave Colombia with Mateo and the baby... Javier's baby.

Don't. She told herself, the thought making her heart drop.

Javier's baby.

She felt another tear roll down her cheek, followed by another and another. She sank down with her back against the wall and let the tears flow.

She was gonna be late, but she couldn't care less.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Javier stood by the window in the living room of his apartment, the scent of whiskey, burnt coffee from the morning and smoke heavy in the air. He took a drag of his cigarette, attempting to let the stress of the day wear off with each inhale and exhale, and glanced at the clock.

Helena was supposed to be at his place by eight. It was already a few minutes past eight, and he caught himself starting to worry about where she might be. It was unusual of her to be late.

Lately, she had been spending most of her nights in his apartment, a habit Javier had gotten used to way too easily. There was no amount of whiskey and smoking that could ease his stress and anxiety as much as being with her - losing himself in her scent, in her beauty, burying his face in the crook of her neck and feeling the soft skin there while he moved inside her… There was nothing that could compare to this. The thought of her being with him and not getting in bed with all those disgusting men at the brothel also made him feel better. He obviously worried about her and wanted to protect her from the horrors she already knew very well. And as a man, he couldn't bear the thought of sharing her with anyone else. He didn't want to share this woman with anyone else, even though she wasn't his.

Yet, the next weekend he would have to share her with the most evil, most sickening men of this whole country and the mere thought of it made his stomach turn. His mind replayed their conversation from last night, over and over, how she reminded him that she needed that visa and how she reluctantly told him that she was going to Medellín during the weekend with all the other girls. And no matter how much he hated the thought of sending her in, he knew this could be their golden ticket and they could both get what they wanted. She would get the visa and he would get intel that could give them a few steps ahead of the narcos. All he had to do was settle every detail with her tonight.

If he wanted to be honest with himself - which Javier wasn't often - he did it on purpose, delaying Helena's visa. She had given him intel during the months they had been seeing each other, though less and less as she started spending more of her time with him. Still, what she had provided could have been enough that, if he wanted to, he could have pulled some strings and knocked on the door of the right people at the embassy. He knew the day would eventually come when he would have to follow through with his promise to her, and he had no doubt that once she had the visa, she would do everything in her power to get herself and her son out of Colombia in the blink of an eye. And for some reason that Javier didn’t fully understand – and maybe didn’t even want to -, the thought of never seeing her again made him feel cold and empty.

It was a strange feeling for him, and an instinct rooted deep within him told him that this wasn’t how things were supposed to be... that him and Helena were never supposed to become more than transactional. That they were heading into dangerous waters where his only response should be to cut things off and run. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to tear away from her and simply never see her again. He wanted to selfishly keep her all to himself and pretend that he didn’t acknowledge how his heart beat faster whenever he saw her, how he felt faint and calm all at once when he fell asleep with her in his arms, or how she was the first thing that came to his mind as he woke from his sleep at the early hours of the morning. He pretended none of this existed in his heart, though with each passing day, it was more and more difficult. He wanted to pretend she was just another woman he was sleeping with and liked enough to spend time with, just another informant in his bed.

Except there were no other informants in his bed anymore. How could there be, when he spent all of his free evenings tangled in the sheets with her. How could there be, when she was the one he called when he felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of his job weighing down on him during the days. How could there be, when all of those other girls in Bogotá sparked no interest in him anymore, not even the slightest.

Sometimes, when he was drinking alone in his apartment, he dared to wander into those dangerous waters and absentmindedly lose himself in wondering if she felt something, too. She had to, he thought, picturing the way her deep chocolate eyes gazed at him with so much longing, adoration and vulnerability. Or the way she would curl up at his side and lay her head on his chest after they finished. Or when she held him in her arms and ran her fingers through his dark locks, listening to him complain about what an asshole everyone at the fucking embassy was. Javier was aware he possessed a charm that made women practically drool over him, but this felt different. This couldn't be just about sex. But then again, he always seemed to find an excuse to convince himself that this couldn't be real, that it would never work between them, that they weren't meant to be, that the circumstances weren’t right, that he wasn't a man made for relationships... he was a DEA agent living a dangerous life, and she was a prostitute, his informant, who was determined to leave Colombia. And that was all there was to it.

He downed his whiskey and poured himself another glass, his eyes flickering to the clock. It was quarter past eight. He was already starting to beat himself up for not offering to pick her up from her apartment as the streets were not particularly safe to walk in Bogotá, especially after dark, when there was a soft knock on the door. He let out a breath of relief and went to answer it.

Opening the door, he wasted no time pulling her into his arms, swiftly closing the door behind her and backing her up against it, his mouth on hers in an instant. This was the moment he’d been waiting for all day, this was what kept him sane amidst all the chaos. Now, he swore not even God could stop him from having her. Unless…

„Javi” she pulled away just enough to look up at him, gently but firmly pushing him away. „Not tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow at her but loosened his grip around her, giving her some space. It was unlikely of her to decline him, but now that he took his time looking her up and down, he could tell something was off. She looked pale, her eyes were glassy and the usual sass and confidence she carried were gone.

„What’s wrong?” he asked, concern evidient in his voice. He reached up with one hand to gently cup her cheek, coaxing her to meet his gaze. Sometimes even he himself was surprised by how soft he could be with her. But he couldn’t help it.

„I…I’m not feeling well. Just a bit under the weather.” she murmured, looking away from him briefly before returning her gaze, seeming nervous, as if debating whether she should say more or not.

„Just sick… like what I had last week.” she finally added. He didn’t say anything just nodded, however, the concern didn’t fade from his eyes.

„At least let me get you something” he offered as he walked her over to his brown leather couch.

„What can you get me from a kitchen that’s always empty?” she replied, her tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. He grunted, turning away to hide the smirk forming on his face. She knew him too well. The fridge was indeed empty except for a few bottles of beer, but he managed to find some old teabags at the back of a cupboard. He didn’t bother boiling water – hell, he didn’t even know where or if he had a kettle - , so he run hot water from the tap, filled a mug and tossed a teabag in it.

„Javier Peña making me tea? Who would have thought I’d see the day…” she teased, her mood lifting just a little as she took the mug from his hands with a small smile.

He looked at her, still feeling a bit helpless, wishing he could make her feel better and take away whatever was bothering her. He couldn’t explain it, but there was an unease in her that hadn’t been there before - a hidden anxiety that she had either hidden very well from him or that had only recently appeared. She didn’t look like someone with the flu or a virus. She looked… uncharacteristically nervous.

He wanted to ask her if something had happened that scared her or made her feel unsafe. Maybe someone had been following her around, or even worse, threathened her. Things like that weren’t uncommon in Bogotá. Or she was nervous about going to Medellín. He just wished he knew how to ask her, how to offer her comfort, but shame on him, he didn’t know any method that didn’t involve getting her in his bed and burying himself between her legs. And she clearly wasn’t in the mood for that.

„So you gonna tell me what your plan is for me?” she had caught him eyeing her and broke the silence, pulling him from his thoughts.

„Sure. Right.” he sighed and sat down next to her on the couch. As he started explaining why this weekend was important for them, he reached for a cigarette and lit it. He took a drag and exhaled, the scent slowly filling the space between them as he talked.

Helena had never been bothered by the smoke; they’d even shared cigarettes quite often on evenings like this. But now, she wrinkled her nose at the smell and was about to make a comment on his chainsmoking habits when suddenly clutched at her stomach with one hand while the other flew to cover her mouth. She forced herself to collect herself long enough to stand up and make it to his bathroom.

Now Javier was even more puzzled than before. He stood up from the couch, helplessness taking over him once again. He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table and decided to wait a little, giving her privacy to take care of herself. He heard her moving around in the bathroom and flushing the toilet, but when a few more minutes passed and she still hadn’t come out, he decided he just couldn’t bear to stand there helplessly, without at least trying to help her.

„Helena?” Javier knocked softly on the bathroom door. „Do you need anything?”

For a moment there was only silence, but then he heard her speak in a weak, low voice.

„Can you get me my meds? It’s in my bag, I left it on the couch.”

He quickly walked back to the couch, grabbed the black leather bag and opened it, rummaging through its contents, but he couldn’t find what she asked for. Frustrated, he spilled the contents of her bag on the couch; keys, wallet, a lipstick, earrings, drawings from Mateo, checks to pay, a medical report…

A medical report. He hadn’t meant to pry. He was just spilling everything out of that goddamn bag to get the medication for her as quickly as he could, but now he had seen it, and his eyes were glued to it. Glued to the medical report, with „pregnancy confirmation” reading at the top of the piece of paper that had crumbled at the corners.

Javier lifted it up and just stared, a knot forming in his stomach. It was as if his world – that was already filled the consistent presence of danger, stress and chaos, and wasn’t in need of a new layer of complication – froze. She was pregnant. His Helena was pregnant.

It can’t be. Not her. Not now.

He felt the blood drain from his face and the room started spinning around him. He didn’t register hearing her calling his name from the bathroom or walking to the living room to see what was taking him so long. When he came to, he saw her standing a few feet away, her beautiful face filled with horror, and a hand clasped over her mouth - not because of the nausea this time. She was looking at him and he knew she knew he discovered what she had been keeping from him.

„When were you going to tell me?” his voice was hoarse from the schock when he finally spoke, emotions chasing each other inside him; anger, fear, betrayal, helplessness…

„When?” he repeated more forcefully when she didn’t answer.

„I… I wasn’t.”

He couldn’t find the words to say, his expression cold as stone. He was frozen.

„It’s yours, Javi.” she whispered, her voice breaking.”The baby…it’s yours.”

He already knew. He didn’t know how, but he knew. He knew it the moment his eyes spotted the pregnancy confirmation she clearly hadn’t meant for him to see. He sanked down on the couch, burying his face in his palms, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He wasn’t prepared for this. A child. His child. Their child. What was he supposed to do with that?

He couldn’t believe she wanted to keep this from him. He knew he wasn’t the type of man to provide stability and a loving home for a family. He knew himself well enough to know he wasn’t cut out for that. Still, the thought of Helena hiding this from him, potentially for his whole life, made anger boil in him.

„Javi, please, say something…” she spoke in a low voice, desperately needing him to say whatever was on his mind, to end this heavy silence.

„How could you keep this from me?”

„I thought you wouldn’t want to know.” she replied, her eyes welling up.

„Wouldn’t want to know?” he jumped to his feet and started pacing the room that suddenly felt too so small, his voice rough with frustration. „You don’t get to decide that. Don’t you think I at least have the right to know?”

„And what would be the point of that?” she exclaimed, raising her voice and taking a step toward him. „You are all about your job and sleeping around. If you can’t commit to me, how could you commit to a baby? What do you know about raising a child? It’s not like you are part of their life when you feel like it, when you want to make time for them between your informants. It’s not like you can disappear when you get bored or scared or whatever the hell it is. You can’t suddenly change your mind and decide this is not the life you want to live, and then think you can just solve everything by sending me a fucking check every month.”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now and his heart broke at her desperate monologue, each word a knife to his chest. And it hurt even more because he knew he deserved everything she threw at him. He had given her every reason to think that way about him. He could have changed that, though. He could have admitted to himself what she meant to him and what he felt for her. And he could have told her. Had he been honest with himself - and with her -, maybe she would have felt she could trust him with this, even though she knew this was not the life he planned.

What life he planned for himself, he didn’t know anymore. He had become so caught up in chasing Escobar that it seemed to be the only purpose in his life. He’d never seriously considered fatherhood, not even with Lorraine. He never really thought about it. He wasn’t strictly opposed to the idea of having kids one day, but he never seriously considered starting a family with someone, either. But suddenly, the situation had presented itself, without him asking for it. And it was something both of them were responsible for.

And while he was still upset with her, his anger toward her began to fade, replaced by an even stronger anger at himself. For not being honest with her, for not making her feel like she could trust him. A wave of guilt washed over him as he imagined how lonely and terrified she must have felt, carrying this burden alone in a word filled with danger and cruelty. He thought about all the times she was there for him, letting him find comfort in not only her body, but in her company, too. She was always there to listen to him or just hold him in silence when words felt too heavy to say… And now he wanted to be there for her, too. He didn’t want her to face this alone… He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her that he would be there for her, that they would get through this together.

„You can’t go to Medellín.” he blurted out finally, his voice much calmer.

„Seriously, Javier? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

„Helena- „ he started, but she interrupted him.

„Well, let me enlighten you” she snapped. „Now I’ll need to take care of not one, but two children on my own. I need that fucking visa.”

„You aren’t on your own, Helena” he said softly, taking a few steps toward her until he was close enough to touch her.

Her breath hitched as his words took her by surprise and she looked up at him, eyes filled with disbelief and hesitance. This wasn’t the answer she was expecting to hear from him. But she was listening, waiting for him to continue.

This was his chance to make things right.

„I…I know I’m not the best person to do this with, but I want you to know that you are not alone in this.” he took a breath, taking a second to steady himself in this moment of intensity. „Fuck, I don’t know how to say this right, and I know you deserve better, but I just want you to know that you are all I think about. There is none else. And you are wrong if you believe I can’t commit to you.”

The words tumbled out of him, raw and uncomposed - but finally, honest. Javier watched her gaze soften and fill with more surprise, and a hint of relief and hope. She looked so vulnerable like this, and he wanted to tell her more, say the words that were trapped on his tongue, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, he raised a finger to lift her chin, his thumb gently stroking her cheek and she let him, seeking comfort in his touch and his confession. She stepped closer to him until she could feel the warmth of his breath. The air in the dimly lit room had shifted, the tension between them slowly beginning to dissolve. Javier tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist, as if to test the waters and she responded by placing one of her small hands on his arm, feeling the muscles under the thin material of shirt.

„I’m sorry I didn’t say anything” she said after a few minutes of silence, darting her eyes away from his face. „I didn’t want you to feel forced to be part of something you never wanted.”

„No” he traced her bottom lip with his thumb „I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like you could tell me anything.”

What he did next surprised both her and himself. Gently, he placed a hand on her stomach. It was still too early for anything to show, but his trembling fingers traced it knowing the little life they had created was already there, growing. The touch was tender, laced with fear and a newfound curioustiy, mirroring the overwhelming swirl of emotions inside him. But amidst it all, he also felt something new, something he couldn’t quite put a name to. And in that quiet, intimate moment a bond formed between them – not only between him and Helena, but between him and this child whose existence had just been revealed to him so very recently.

Helena watched him, completely moved. She almost had to force herself to pull her gaze back just enough to meet his, the final question lingering in her eyes.

„Javi…” she started. „If we are going to do this, I need you to be all in. I need all of you.”

He understood what she was asking for. She was asking for what they’d both been secretly yearning for, something Javier had been afraid to admit even to himself. He could barely believe he needed an unexpected twist of fate like this to muster up his courage to face his feelings. He never thought he would ever feel ready, he still didn’t. He was still afraid he would mess it up. But he knew that he didn’t want to let her down, he wanted to be there to protect her and make her happy. And he might not have been dreaming of becoming a father, but standing there with her in that moment, it was as if suddenly all the pieces they had created together over the past few months had fallen into place.

„I meant what I said about committing to you. I want to be there for you. I… I want to be with you.” he said, looking her in the eye.

„I want to be with you, too.” a smile formed on her face.

He responded by bringing his lips to hers, sealing his promise with a kiss that said more than words could. She kissed him back and in that moment, it felt as if nothing else in the world existed - no cartels to bring down, no danger to hide from, no fear, no pain - just the two of them in each other’s arms in his quiet apartment that, for the first time, felt more than just four walls.

[bobfloydsbabe]

PSA FOR TOP GUN WRITERS

Earlier this evening, someone reblogged my Mob Boss Bob masterlist. Happy about this, I checked the person's blog only to discover that they are a minor, aged 13, and are blatantly disregarding the 18+ and minors dni warnings on fics, including my own.

The blog is @topgunbb – they managed to reblog an additional three of my fics individually before I blocked them. The blog is also brand new, about an hour old when I last checked.

I'm asking that you block them. Please. They are disrespecting boundaries we have put in place to protect ourselves and others. I'm tagging a bunch of people below the cut, but please, reblog to spread the word. This is not okay.

TAGGING RELEVANT PEOPLE: @sebsxphia, @withahappyrefrain, @mothdruid, @yanna-banana, @rhettabbotts, @lewmagoo, @bradshawsbitch, @bradshawsbaby, @seresinsweetie, @wkndwlff, @sylviebell, @blue-aconite, @delopsia, @roosters-girl, @rooster-84, @thedroneranger, @cherrycola27, @desert-fern, @teacupsandtopgun, @rae-gar-targaryen, @joaquinwhorres, @veetlegeuse, @mxgyver, @wicked-remarks, @ryebecca, @writercole, @roosterbruiser, @roosterforme, @ohtobeleah, @callsign-magnolia, @topguncortez, @fanboygarcia

[folklorebyswift]

helena fumbled miss italy i fear this is the biggest fumble in sapphic history

[xmunsn]

just finished the main story of rdr2 and my heart is shattered. im gonna miss arthur so much, i love my outlaw and as much as i like john it’s not gonna be the same :’-(

also i’m so pissed we didn’t get to kill that nasty rat ass bitch micah and that arthur had to die that way. i hope dutch has a horrible life and lives in shame and pain and regret for the rest of his wretched life and that micah gets sick and has an excruciating and drawn out death because it’s what he deserves 🤭

[kirsteng42]

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}

[fuegogiiirl]

Bittersweet dreams

Pairing: Javier Peña x Helena Sotomayor

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Javier has to pay the price for his past mistakes - even in the dream that keeps haunting him.

Tags: lots of angst, guilt, regret, sadness, drinking

Author's note: I'm absolutely in my Javi era so I had to write another one... not a happy piece, but I hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless! xx

He wonders if it would feel the same to kiss her. If her lips would feel that soft, if her taste would be as intoxicating as it was years ago. And now she is right here, so close that her sweet scent fills his nostrils and makes him dizzy.

He hasn’t been here before, the place is not familiar. He stands by a window, the curtains drawn to the side, the grey light of early dawn allowing him to make out the silhouettes of the furniture and the woman in front of him.

And yet, he has been here a hundred times and more; this close to her, and even closer. He’s felt her body melt against his before, her hands wrap around his neck, her lips trail kisses along the scars on his skin. Years have passed, yet he remembers it all as if it was yesterday.

She is still breathtaking, after all these years — if not more. Her eyes are closed, her curly dark locks falling on her shoulders, framing her face that holds the peace of the sweetest dreams. He wants to gently trace his fingers across her cheeks, her jaw, her lips. He wants to wrap one of his arms around her waist and pull her close until there is no distance between them. He wants to lean in and softly press his lips against hers. He is yearning to know if it would feel the same to kiss her.

But he doesn’t move. He is afraid that his touch might destroy her peace, and he would hate himself if he stole one more good thing from her. Wait, he hates himself already. He hates himself for how he hid his feelings from her, and even from himself. He hates himself for how he treated her as if she meant nothing more than another woman in his bed. He hates himself for how recklessly he put her in harm’s way, and for every fucking thing that happened to her in Colombia.

Now all he wants to do is to kiss her and take her pain away. He imagines an alternate reality, where he would come home to her every evening. He would wrap her in his arms and kiss her. That would be the moment he would be waiting for all day, his favourite part of the day, coming home to his sweet girl and kissing her. Then she would ask him about his day, he would ask her about hers, they would talk about everything and nothing, just as they used to. He would then make love to her on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the bedroom, or in the shower… in every corner of their home. And every night, he would pull her into his arms and kiss her goodnight before they fell asleep.

He wishes he had realised sooner that this was what he truly needed in his life. Her.

Now, it feels like it might be too late.

He slowly leans in. His face is inches from hers and he could easily close the distance between them. And God, does he want to! But he knows he doesn’t deserve to… An invisible force locks him in place, holding him back. He hands all the power to her, letting her decide where she wants to take this and what she is willing to give him.

So he waits. He waits with the nerves of someone awaiting their sentence. It feels as if his fate is at stake.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there; it could be seconds, minutes, or hours. It’s still dark, but somehow he can see her face clearly. He wishes he had done things differently. The guilt of the past and the desire of the present burn through him, his chest aching with the weight of it.

Suddenly, the room with all its greyness begins to disappear and the only thing he sees is her as she lifts her head. He takes a moment to admire the way her long, dark lashes lift as she opens her eyes to look at him and he tries to brace himself for what’s about to come.

The very moment her eyes meet his, he is pulled under into an ocean of pain and sorrow. And he can feel himself starting to drown as her cold gaze pierces through him.

----

Javier shoots up in bed, his eyes popping open, chest heaving, breath uneven and wet locks of hair stuck to his forehead.

A few minutes pass until his breaths even out and he lets himself fall back onto the cool sheets, squeezing his eyes shut.

All he can feel is guilt and loneliness eating away at him, a cruelly bitter mix of emotions stabbing through his chest in the most painful way. He misses her, more than he ever imagined it was possible to miss someone. Regret washes over him once again, for everything that happened and everything that didn’t. He reaches toward the lamp on the bedside table, knocking over a glass as he tries to switch it on.

„Shit” he mumbles, squinting his eyes at the harsh intrusion of the yellow light, and he reaches for the bottle of whiskey he keeps on his bedside table. His head throbs from the amount he had before going to sleep, but he needs more.

Javier fills the glass and raises it to his his lips. The feel of the burning liquor is his only hope to silence the thoughts in his head; his thoughts of the horrors of Colombia, of all the mistakes he made, of all the people he let down, of the life, or lack thereof he has in Laredo. And thoughts of her. Of Helena.

He has dreamt of her again, the same dream that visits him almost every night. And every time, Javier hopes that it will be different, that maybe this time she will open her eyes and look at him with forgiveness, that maybe she will even give him a sweet kiss of hers, even though he doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t deserve it — not even in his dreams. This is what he deserves; lying alone in his bed, drunk and consumed by his guilt.

Slowly, he reaches for the bottle and pours himself another glass.

[bobfloydsbabe]

Please, for the love of the universe, read the rules the person behind the blog has set up before following or interacting with their content. I’m so sick of having to block minors and ageless blogs because they refuse to read and respect my boundaries.

Get a fucking grip.

[kirsteng42]

The sexiest scene with the sexiest couple ever!!!! It’s such a shame she isn’t in F4 with him instead on the actor he has been paired with !!! But he is with Joseph Quinn again who is my other fave man so there is that, I can try and block Susan Storm out lol…..

i was just about to make an edit and then i noticed this detail in THE javi scene…

the way he kisses her chin so needy🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

[folklorebyswift]

helena so clearly has such insane internalized homophobia she is projecting everything she feels onto zeudi

zeudi has declared her love (infatuation) for helena on live national television two times in the last 2 weeks and multiple other times to her face and helena still has the audacity to say “she’s young and needs to figure out what she wants” hello??? the call is coming from inside the house babe

alfonso sono stanca

[milla-frenchy]

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. 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 one of his informers and worked in a brothel, 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.

***********

@janaispunk thank you for the inspiring mood board 🙏

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring

[firsttarotreader]

Special Series - Pedro’s Characters as Tarot Cards

(Ongoing)

Major Arcana

Dieter Bravo - The Devil

Agent Whiskey - Judgement

Oberyn Martell - The Sun

Din Djarin - The Chariot

Joel Miller - The Hanged Man

Javier Peña - The Emperor

Dave York - The Moon

Javi Gutierrez - The Star

Silva - Temperance

Frankie Morales - Strength

Marcus Moreno - Justice

Pero Tovar - The Tower

Marcus Pike - The Lovers

Ezra - Death

Max Phillips - The Wheel of Fortune

Max Lord - The Magician

Mrs. Flores - The Empress

Zach Wellison - The Hermit

Lucien Flores - The Fool

Marcus Acacius - The Hierophant

Nico - The High Priestess

Charlie - The World

Minor Arcana

Reed Richards - King of Swords

Pedro Pascal - King of Wands (Special)

Fink - Page of Swords

Comandante Veracruz - 7 of Swords

Jay Castillo - Page of Cups

Shane “Dio” Morrissey - 5 of Swords

Omar Assarian - Page of Wands

Ricky Hauk - 3 of Swords

Clint - 10 of Wands

Claude - Knight of Wands

Unnamed Character (Fire Meet Gasoline) - Knight of Cups

Billy - 2 of Wands

Pedro - 7 of Pentacles

Mr. Ben - Knight of Pentacles

Pietro Alvarez - 6 of Swords

David - Ace of Cups

Steve - 2 of Cups

Ted Garcia - 5 of Wands

Eddie - 8 of Wands

“The Thief” - 9 of Pentacles

Paulino - Page of Pentacles

Tim Rockford - Ace of Swords

Edmund - Knight of Swords

Nathan Landry - 7 of Wands

Unnamed Character (Hope) - 4 of Cups

Ed Indelicato - 2 of Pentacles

Kevin “Kip” Green - 5 of Cups

Robert - 6 of Cups

The Wanderer - 7 of Cups

Mario - 9 of Wands

Dan Landry - 4 of Swords

Unnamed Character (Wing Pit) - 3 of Cups

Special Agent Ortega - 3 of Wands

Renaldo (Reynaldo) - 6 of Wands

Kermit - Ace of Pentacles

Charlie (Waking Up) - 2 of Swords

Harry Castillo - King of Pentacles

Unnamed Character (Someday) - 10 of Swords

Special Mini Series: Pedro’s Characters Meet The Four Queens

Ellaria Sand - Queen of Wands

Teresa Lisbon - Queen of Swords

Tess Servopoulos - Queen of Pentacles

Helena Sotomayor - Queen of Cups

More characters on the way!

All art made by my lovely friend who wants to stay anonymous EXCLUSIVELY for the blog.

[javierduffy]

I have been having... a very bad day. Any spare fluffy headcanons for the boys? (and maybe some nsfw ones if you're up to it-)

ohh no my dear helena !!! its unfortunate that you’re having a rough day today :( remember that everything is temporary and that this day, like every other hard day before (and all following after), will pass in its own time.

i can absolutely spare some fluff ! that’s all i’ve got !

• javier goes to bed at about the same time that kieran is waking up every morning, right before dawn, and it’s a common occurrence that he will forget to untie his hair before laying down for bed, especially after a long night of guard duty. kieran will notice every time, and knows himself how easily long hair can get matted, so he will beckon javier over so that he can untie his bow. usually, he’ll also take the time to run his fingers through javier’s hair to detangle it as well, so that he’s even less likely to wake up to knots. javier adores it, teetering with the weight of his head and leaning hard into kieran’s legs on each side of his shoulders- sometimes kieran will even indulge himself in giving javier a head massage. javier never sleeps better, and coincidentally, he began forgetting to take his hair down a lot more after moving out to clemen’s point ….

• javier snuck kieran his first bowl of pearson’s stew after ‘making a social call’. john kicked kieran off his horse at the entrance of camp and javier watched as the latter dredged himself through the brush to what would become his usual resting place behind the rock by the horses. he looked miserable, dead on his feet, and javier knew by then he’d been weeks without a meal. he was a dirty, disloyal, unholy traitor of an o’driscoll, but something about his sunken eyes, the shake in his hand as he lit his first cigarette as a free man again- likely to quell off the hunger- it urged javier to act in a way that he’d never felt before. javier could kill a man in cold blood easier than he could stand to watch fear starve a man even after his hands are free to reach for the bowl. the study for learned helplessness in psychology will come years later, but javier understands himself now through watching kieran’s instinctual desire to survive be beat out of him by the gang javier dedicates his life to. with a healthy amount of spite to himself, he scoops a heaping amount of fresh stew into the cleanest bowl he can find, and sets out to add a fresh layer of flesh to kieran’s prominent bones.

• following this, cooking for kieran is one of javier’s favourite things to do when they get together. javier will cook for him traditional mexican dishes from home (as best he can. both with his limited skills and also with his limited accessibility to the proper ingredients. (probably for the best that he can’t get authentic chili peppers from home and has to use a less spicy chili native to this northern climate. kieran does okay with spice but it isn’t in his genetics to truly have a high tolerance.)) and not only will it be an unknown love language from javier, to feed kieran and make sure he is full, but it will also be a love language from kieran, to let javi share a piece of home with him.

• ^ also applies to modern au javieran ! javier loves cooking, and especially for kieran. they would cook together, but kieran struggles to cook with other people in the room, and javier gets so absorbed in it that he’d likely be running into kieran or otherwise being unhelpful in aiding in making sure the dish is being cooked correctly because he’s too Locked In to guide kieran LOL but they’re more happy to simply keep each other company, anyway. kieran on the counter/table/floor, watching javier sing and dance to the music he’s blasting from their speaker. cue dancing in the kitchen when the love songs come on (here’s a good one (rip javier escuella you would have loved dannylux)). the parallel play and quality time with these two is off the charts

• come mid/late clemens point, the way javieran make most of their money for the camp is by going on days-long fishing dates, laughing and laying close to one another in the grass under a tree on the riverbank in the shroud of darkness. they come back to camp flushed as all get out but with stacks of cash in their hands wadded up so thick no one dares to ask where it came from. kieran will get excited at even the smallest of fish, perking up and sharing/asking javier for tidbits on the species. they never miss a bite, either. one time one of the bells on their bobber rods rang once and they both broke out of a very hot and heavy make-out sesh so fast that javier tripped on kieran and nearly broke both of their wrists. they laughed so hard about it, javier was certain that by the time he arrived to his rod, the fish had already successfully ripped the bait off of his hook. he reeled in a boot, at the end of it all. he never lives it down.

• kieran is ambidextrous, and javier is fascinated by it. javier stumbled upon kieran writing on one rare occasion, and noticed immediately that he was writing with his left. “left handed, huh ?” kieran cocks his head at him in thought. javier wonders why on earth he would have to stop and think about a question like that. “uhh, not really ?” well, now javier is simply confused. “right, then ? is something wrong with your dominant hand ?” “um … no, that’s not it either …” and at this point, javier is demanding kieran explain what the hell he’s talking about, and why he’s pulling a prank on him. cue kieran explaining and javier making him do all kinds of silly “tests” like writing, shooting, playing guitar (as if kieran is going to any better with either when neither of them can do it right to begin with) because he finds it so cool.

• modern au kieran gets overstimulated incredibly easily, so he’s got a pair of noise canceling over-ear headphones that he often wears to dampen sensory input and ground himself when there’s a lot going on. when it’s cleaning day, generally no matter what he’s doing, he HAS to wear his headphones. javier is left to dodge him the same way he has to dodge the cats when they’re weaving in and out of between his feet. it also leaves him to dance to his own tunes when kieran suddenly swoops or sways or dips him to the music only he can hear- though just as often, javier will catch kieran dancing by himself and he will simply be unable not to join him, even though he can’t hear what it is he’s dancing to. as overwhelming as they can be, cleaning days for javieran somehow always end up feeling more like a date than anything.

• on a similar note, kieran also wears his headphones to bed, and listens to asmr/white noise to sleep. the pressure helps him feel safe, and the silence of a room makes him anxious. he also has a terrible bedhead and rbf in the morning. both of these things javier finds incredibly charming, and if he ever does wake up when/before kieran does (incredibly rare), this is his pov (right before he tries to kiss kieran’s face off and gets shoved away with a sleepy giggle that only bolsters his aggression);

nsfw under the cut !

and how could i resist a chance to finally talk about this ;3€ ?? i’ll try to keep them fluffy !

(context, i hc both of them as tguys usually (though im content with writing javier as amab too), with both of them being absolute, unabashed switches. they have little preferences anywhere in terms of bottoming/topping, though kieran has a preference for subbing, and javier has no qualms with domming more frequently.)

• as much raunchy, animalistic sex that javieran have, they have double as much slow, loving, tender sex. and most times between, they’re having raunchy, loving, animalistic sex.

• javi loves to turn kieran’s brain off, he loves more than anything to make kieran feel so overwhelmingly pleasured that he forgets everything that ever has, ever could, or ever will happen to him. nothing gets javier off quite like seeing the face of bliss kieran makes when all he can think about is javier’s mouth/hands/cock working overtime just to make him feel good.

• both of them i think are quite vocal when they’re able to be, and kieran tends to be vocal whether he’s supposed to be or not. both of them often dissolve into whimpers and “i love you”s and praise like “you feel/sound/taste so good” by the end. their love for each other has a carnal grasp on every aspect of their sex lives as well <3 so they’re always speaking so sweetly to each other, even if the way they growl it seems violent

• javier LOVES love bites. he loves to mark kieran up and he especially loves to bite and lick and suck on his neck, not only because of the primal aspect of his jugular being so close (as well as the warmth of his pulse thrumming against his mouth), but also because it arouses kieran to the point of making him shiver nearly every time. javier has permission to bite him hard, but it’s pretty rare that he ever does, and it’s only late into their relationship does javier feel like it will be more pleasure for him than it would just be pain. sometimes he can’t help it though, he’ll get so worked up that he just latches on and the way that kieran tightens around him is mind-numbing.

• unironically i think kieran is a GREAT soft dom, and that is something that javier generally had never experienced prior to getting with kieran. javi thinks it’s hot to be man-handled and roughed up, and kieran can do his very best (despite the constant guilt and fear) if javier is really feeling it, but where he really excels is soft domming. once the nerves melt off, he’s so gentle with javier that it makes the latter’s skin hot all over. constantly praising him, cooing at him, asking him nicely, rewarding him for good behavior, all the while touching him oh-so-gently, it all makes javier feel so awkward but so, so good. kieran makes him feel so loved and worshipped that the world in which he has anything to question simply just fades away, and all he has to think about is doing what meager tasks kieran asks of him.

• they find so much peace in each other’s bodies. in every rib and wrinkle and sunspot, these two will spend hours simply exploring and enjoying the body of the other in whatever the closest form of “privacy” they can manage to acquire. turns out, kieran has sunspots all over him. turns out, javier has a keloid scar on the back of his bicep. turns out, kieran has a mole on his scalp right where his part is (this is canon btw i saw it once when i was studying him in photo mode like a specimen in a petri dish), and javier has back dimples, and kieran’s ribs stutter and dance beautifully when he laughs, and the flex of javier’s thighs warps his skin like a marble statue. javier escuella and kieran duffy love like artists, and they spend hours just learning and looking and studying each other, like a painter with his muse, like a writer with his words, like the last things they want to see while they’re dying are all the hours they spent learning the beauty of the other.

i could honestly come up with more but it would never leave my drafts, so i hope u like these that i came up with as quick as i could :’) ! i hope you’re feeling better and have gotten some good rest !! thank you for the ask !!!!!

[kirsteng42]

PP needs to revisit this look as this is him at his sexiest!!! Then him in the Din suit….but yep this side profile is epic…….

JAVIER PEÑA in every episode of NARCOS    ↺ S01E02 / THE SWORD OF SIMÓN BOLIVAR

[cherry-holmes]

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