"Your pussy tastes so sweet." with Javi IM SORRY TYALOR
send me a character and a number for short fic!
this is rated m: for sexual themes etc
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xxx
Nails dig into skin. There’s sweat on your brow and his. Your lungs burn as you near the edge of your high, forgetting to breathe. Javi often takes your breath away. And he’s good at this. Really good. Really good at taking you apart.
It’s putting you back together again that he has trouble with.
You’re in love with him. Head over fucking heels.
You’re his friend, and you know he cares about you. But you’re his stress release. His relaxation technique. Part of his routine.
After he pulls away, he reaches for a cigarette. He might stay for a little bit, make light chit chat – but he never stays the night.
Every time you want to tell him you love him, he leaves. Every time you open your mouth to say something, your heart pounds so loud in your ears you can’t find the words.
This kind man, this broken man. He’s seen so much in his life, more than anyone should. You’ve picked up the pieces of his broken heart too many times, but he’s breaking yours. Every time he comes over, the worse the pain gets. Every mind numbing, searing passionate orgasm he gives you is just one more reminder it’s temporary. That he won’t stay. He’ll leave.
You want to be his emotional tether, not just his physical one. But you deserve to be taken care of emotionally too.
You’re afraid he knows.
When this started, it was agreed that no emotions would tie either of you down. But you just can’t, not when you’ve grown to love him like this.
You’re afraid he’ll find out you love him, and he’ll leave. He won’t know how to handle your emotions, and because he doesn’t want to break your heart, he’ll leave.
So, he can either fuck you boneless every other night and leave after, or you can tell him you love him, and he’ll leave forever.
You don’t know what to do, but right now you want him to stay.
But he won’t. And he doesn’t.
It was a particularly good night tonight in bed. His hips snapped into yours harder than they have before. You came three times, one of which caused you to scream so loud you were embarrassed by it. He was proud, but only for a moment. He groaned deliciously in your ear, but his bliss faded almost as soon as his body separated from yours. His sadness washing over his face as he lit the cigarette. His shoulders rigid once again.
You watched him get dressed, he mumbled a thanks, then he was out the door.
And you cry. You lay in your bed, thighs still sticky and you soak your pillow with your tears. You love him. You hate him. You love him.
And being friends with benefits means, the benefit is sex. You don’t know where he is half the time. You only know he’s safe when he comes knocking at your door. Sometimes you go days even weeks without seeing him. Which you suppose is good right? If he’s not sad or upset, he doesn’t need that comfort.
But you still worry.
It’s been almost a month since you’ve seen him. You feel a certain anxiety about it. So much so that you throw up. It happens a few days in a row, and you think you’ve caught a bug. Then you panic.
The pregnancy test sits on the counter and has been for an hour. You can’t bear to test it. You know the answer.
You take it anyway and you cry when you see it’s positive.
You’re pregnant with Javier Peña’s baby.
Someone out there has a sense of humor you think, because no sooner and you thrown the test away is there a knock on your door. And it can only be one person.
You wipe your tears from your eyes and do your best to look like you weren’t just crying your eyes out and answer the door.
Javi smiles when he sees you and lunges for you. His hands on your hips and his mouth finds yours quickly. His fingers dance and you get chills. His body already turning you on.
“Javi,” you gasp putting your hands on his chest. “Wait a second.”
An eyebrow lifts in question.
I’m in love with you.
I’m pregnant.
They all are on the tip of your tongue, but all you can manage is “are you okay? I missed you!”
Before you know it, you’re on your back with his mouth on your heat. His mustache tickling and his tongue delving into your folds.
“Your pussy tastes so sweet,” he purrs into your thigh. He’s in a good mood tonight. Which only hurts you more. This might be the last time. You have to tell him tonight. But… after.
His tongue feels too good for you to tell him now.
Then when his body moves on top of yours, you feel the tears start to fall. Being so close to him, and just knowing this is the last time. His chest is warm, his shoulders broad. You want to memorize it all. You grab his ass and then tug on his hair. You don’t want to forget the grunts in your ear, and the little bites he leaves on whatever skin he can reach.
You’ll tell your baby about him. Tell your baby how Javi is a good man. A good man with a heavy heart. How his shoulders carry the weight of the world.
When you come, you let out a sob. And he knows it’s not a pleasured one, even though you do feel good physically.
He thinks he hurt you. And well, he has. But not how he thinks.
“Did I hurt you?” he pulls back, “was I too rough?” his brow is heavy with concern.
“No Javi,” you sniffle. “I-“
“What?” his voice softens, and he hisses, he’s still hard inside you.
You grab his head and shove his face in your neck and jerk your hips, letting him know to come. He does with a gentle groan, but then he pulls back, looking at your face.
“What’s wrong?” he shudders a little from the aftershocks. His eyes are so soft in the lamplight. You can’t stop the tears from flowing.
“I have to tell you something,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave,” you grab his arm to make him look at you. He’s still.
Your heart is beating so loud in your chest and you don’t know which thing to tell him first. Which is easier to digest?
“Two. Two things.”
“I have something to tell you too,” he says sitting up. You wait for him to reach for the cigarette, but he doesn’t. “You first.”
“I- I’m in love with you Javi,” you tell him, tears spilling out and your throat hurts from trying to keep your sobs down.
“I know,” he whispers.
“You know?” you feel hurt. That he knew and continued to use you this way.
“It’s a shitty excuse. But, fuck. Fuck.” He runs his hand down his face. He’s trying to find the words. “I retired today.”
“I’m pregnant,” you blurt out, crying hard. You can’t keep it inside anymore. “I’m in love with you and I’m pregnant. If you want to leave, I understand. Just- please stay tonight. Please.”
His expression changes, and his eyes look down. He’s frozen in thought and your tears keep coming as you watch him. He’s going to leave you just know it.
His mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out. He reaches for his pants and tugs them on.
“Javi,” you cry sitting up, “please, I’m begging you don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“I’m going to walk around the block. I’ll be back.”
You don’t expect him to come back. You’re too upset to cry anymore. You clean up and get dressed and find something to eat in the kitchen that won’t make your stomach ache.
About ten minutes later though, you hear a knock on the door. It’s not like the others. It’s not urgent. It’s gentle. The knob creaks and Javi appears in your apartment.
When you see him, the tears fall again, and you can’t help but run to his arms. He’s ready for your touch, and he accepts the hug. His arms wrapped securely around you.
“Please don’t leave me tonight,” you sob into his chest.
“I’m not going to leave you at all,” his voice is a quiet whisper. “I retired today. I’m going back to the States. I think you should come with me.”
You pull back to look at him. He rubs the back of his neck, trying to avoid your gaze.
“I said it was a shitty excuse. But I think I’ve fallen for you too. I didn’t know how to- tell you.” He winces, he knows he’s hurt you. He’s made a lot of mistakes, and this is one of them. “I don’t deserve you or your forgiveness. But I won’t let you do this alone.” His kiss on your forehead is gentle.
That night you fall asleep with him next to you. Finally, you’re not alone.
