Just Watched Wakanda Forever And OOHWEE Why Was The Whole Cast So Goddamn Sexy-

First off, don’t you dare say that about your English, because it is perfect. You speak English very well. :) 

Second off, I really hope you like and I am so sorry that I am posting it so late, but to be honest, I’ve barely written anything that hasn’t had to do with school since the summer. But I really hope that I will be able to write more frequently now. :)

Your POV:

It’s one thing being a teenage girl. But being a time-travelling teenage girl is hard and complicated on a whole different level. Normal girls go out with their friends on Friday nights. I get transported to The Middle Ages. Normal girls talk about their crushes to their friends. I got to talk about mine to the Fourth King of the Fourth King, Prince Ahkmenrah, in Ancient Egypt. Normal girls go on dates in restaurants with the boys they like. I got to have King Arthur teach me how to fight with a sword.

That having been said, I wasn’t really all that surprised when I ended up under a tree in a thick forest with no memory of how I had gotten there. In some ways I guess I shouldn’t be complaining. I’m living a fictional life. Something you would either see in movies or books. But hey, it’s not all that fine and dandy to find yourself stranded in unknown places in an unknown part of the timeline with no memory of how long you’d been there or how you’d gotten there.

I stood up and dusted myself off. It was time to check out where I was. And when.

After a brief walk forward I started hearing the sound of voices from the direction in which I was headed. I slowed down my pace just in case. It had taken one too many encounters for me to realize that not everyone in my escapades would be friendly. I peaked over the edge of the bushes that were hiding me from view, awaiting what I would see. To my surprise, it wasn’t what I had been expecting. There was a big building in front of me with a baseball field to the side of it. It was a… high school.

I mentally breathed out a sigh of relief. It was definitely a step up from my last adventure when I’d ended up squat in the middle of the Boston Tea Party and had gotten thrown overboard along with the tea. Long story short, I’d had a bit of explaining to do about the fact that I had materialized out of thin air and the fact that I was wearing ‘funny clothes’ after the incident.

Just as I was making sure that the coast was clear and that it was safe to emerge from my hiding place I saw something at the corner of my eye. I turned to see a small white circle getting bigger. At the time I didn’t know what it was, but then it hit me. Well, almost. I ducked just in time, but not without uttering a pretty loud, “What the hell?!”

“Are you okay?” I heard a voice from behind the bushes.

“Why the hell would you do that? Can’t you watch where you’re throwing your baseballs? Some of us think that the bushes are a safe place to be, but then people like you come and make us think otherw-” I stopped mid-sentence as the figure emerged from the bushes and into full view.

He was gorgeous. Absolutely unforgivably this-should-be-illegal gorgeous.

He had the most stunning chocolate brown eyes that I had ever seen in my entire life. I could absolutely melt in them just like the chocolate-y color that they were. His hair was slightly disheveled, but it was the kind of disheveled that looks really good on boys and makes you want to run your hands through it. My eyes traveled down his shirt to what I assumed to be a pretty toned body. I wondered what he would look like shirtless. Probably pretty good and-

Stop it, (Y/N). He could probably be your grandfather.

“I’m sorry?”

Oops! I had said it out loud.

“Who could be your grandfather?” he asked, suddenly flashing me a blinding ten-million-karat grin. Whoa! Suddenly that made him ten times more attractive. As if I wasn’t already looking at him with a jaw-hits-floor type of face expression.

Suddenly the smile faltered. He puckered his lips in a worried manner. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe the ball hit you on the head or something? You’re kind of not making any sense. Do you want to go to the nurse’s office?”

I shook my head vigorously. There was no reason to attract more attention than was absolutely necessary. Especially not if there was someone who could question me about my life and where I had come from and all that. There was no way I could know how long I would be staying. It was always different. I didn’t want to spend my time, however much I had, here in jail or in a court or something. Exaggerations aside, I didn’t want any trouble.

“No, no. I’m fine. Don’t worry.” I tried to smile as convincingly as possible.

He still didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let me have my way. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m James. Do you go to this school?” He motioned to the school behind us.

The gears in my brain started working. I was used to this. Quick. Create a story. Simple, but not too simple. Nothing with holes in it that could produce questions you would not be able to answer without telling them the truth. The truth was most definitely not an option. It had never been. I had tried it once. I almost got burned at the stake. True, that was probably the wrong time frame to pick for that. Thankfully, life seems to love me and got me out of there before they proclaimed that I was a witch or something.

“I’m (Y/N). Technically, I don’t go to this school yet. I’m new in town. This is the school I’ll be going to, so I thought I’d come check it out before I get enrolled sometime this week.” Hmm… Pretty good, (Y/N).

“From behind the bushes?” Shoot. Hole.

“Well, I’m not that good at social conduct.” Social conduct? What?

Surprisingly, he laughed. “Social conduct. Interesting way to put it. But I get what you mean.” Phew. “It’s not always easy to talk to people. They can be judgmental sometimes. Especially to, uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand nervously, looking me over. “Different people.” he said lightly.

I looked down at my outfit. Black leggings. Combat boots. Olive green jacket that I had decorated to kind of resemble armor. I touched my hair with my hand. Yup, the braid. And of course, the bow and arrow safely secured to my back. The memory had already flashed back by then. The moment I had gotten transported back in time I had been at a costume party. Dressed as Katniss Everdeen.

I looked over his outfit. Flannel shirt over white T-Shirt. High-waisted jeans. 90’s. I was in the 90’s. The Hunger Games hadn’t even been written yet let alone filmed. I probably looked like a weirdo.

“Let’s get you some new clothes, huh?” he asked, a careful lilt to his voice. He was probably trying not to offend what seemed to be my strange fashion taste.

I smiled to reassure him. “Sure.”

He seemed to relax. “Alright, come on.”

“Don’t you have class or something?” I asked after a while of us walking and chatting to each other.

He smirked. “Technically. But it’s my last period. Sometimes you have to make a choice. Do you hang out with a pretty stranger you’ve never met in your life or do you go to your Home Ec class?”

I blushed at his words. I was the pretty stranger.

I could certainly see his logic, though. It’s not like I hadn’t ditched class before too. True, my reasons tended to be of the “Excuse me for being 30 minutes late to your Algebra class, but I got transported to Victorian times.” type, but still. It sort of counts. Also, I probably would have picked to hang out with a pretty stranger too. I kind of had in this case. Him. He was my pretty stranger. Even though I usually tried to lay low on all of my time-related adventures most of the time it didn’t end up that way. Somehow I always ended up making friends with someone from a different era or getting involved in something one way or another.

“You take Home Ec?” I asked, hiding a smile.

“Extra credit.” He shrugged. “Plus it’s not that bad. It can be pretty fun too. Also, it’s ditchable.” He smirked.

“How are you going to get your extra credit if you keep ditching the class?” I laughed.

“I’ll figure that out later.” he said with a grin. “Now it’s time to get you… in style!” he said dramatically, leading me to the clothing store that was just looming into view.

In Style was the name of the store. Smooth. Sort of.

I walked into the store and the fresh-clothing smell that every boutique hit my nostrils, sending a wave of pleasant emotions through me. I think that would be mostly every girl’s reaction. Unfortunately, that was always the only wave of pleasantness for me when it came to shopping. When it came to the looking for and trying on and all that stuff, well, let’s just say I wasn’t a very big fan. I tended to go into a store, grab whatever it was that I needed or whatever I had previously decided I wanted to own, and get the hell out of there.

Walking up to the first rack, I picked out a simple longer black T-shirt to go with my black leggings and turned toward James.

He just raised his eyebrows at me and asked, “That?”

I looked down at the T-shirt and pouted slightly. “Yeah?”

He gave me a smug smile. “Wait here.”

After five minutes he had come back with a pile of clothes in his arms and placed it in mine, ushering me into the dressing room.

“I thought boys weren’t supposed to know about fashion.” I said with a laugh as I tried on a black high-waisted skirt paired with a white dress shirt that he had picked out for me.

“Such outdated thoughts.” he tutted. “I am a man of many talents.” he laughed.

I chuckled and rolled my eyes as I threw the curtain open. He looked me over and nodded.

“It looks great. But try some more on. This should also be a fun experience.”

I groaned. “Can’t I just get this one? I hate shopping.”

James looked back at me with what seemed to be a genuine look of bafflement. “I thought girls were supposed to love shopping.”

“Such outdated thoughts.” I tutted, repeating his previous remark. I heard him laugh as I closed the curtain behind me, and I couldn’t help but think about how melodic his laugh sounded.

“Come on. If you do this I’ll treat you to some ice cream. It’s an adventure. It’s good for you.”

Oh, if he only knew of the type of adventures I had on a daily basis.

Four outfits later and I was strutting around the store like I was on some sort of catwalk with some of the most ridiculous combinations that were available in the store. James watched me showing off the colorful high socks ridiculously paired with a high-waisted leather skirt and bright orange T-shirt and laughed again. “See? I told you this could be fun. Plus you’re a natural born model.” he said teasingly as I almost tripped over my own feet.

I stuck my tongue out at him and giggled, walking back into the dressing room. I picked up what was my last outfit to try on. A pair of high-waisted jeans, a plain black T-shirt and a jean vest. To be honest, I quite liked the combination. It suited my style. I shimmied into the jeans and put the shirt on. I put the vest on top of it and walked out of the dressing room.

James gave me the once-over and smiled approvingly.

“I think we have a winner.” I commented enthusiastically.

“It’s ice-cream time!” he replied, matching my enthusiastic tone. I rolled my eyes and he laughed again. I couldn’t help but notice how much fun I was having with him. In all honesty, I didn’t want this day to end and I’d only met him about 2 hours ago. But I knew that eventually I’d have to leave without a trace, possibly never to return. I dreaded the feeling of regret the thought left as residue. That wasn’t good news. It’s hard maintaining friendships as it is let alone ones that are from different time-frames. Pushing the thought to the farthest part of my mind, I walked with him to the counter. As long as I was here I could enjoy it.

“We’ll be buying everything she’s currently wearing.” James told the lady behind the counter, pointing to me. “And if you could put these,” he said, handing her the clothes I’d been wearing beforehand, “in a bag that would be lovely.”

The cashier nodded and gave him a little smile. She placed the clothes in a bag and handed them to me. “That will be $30,75.”

The smile faded from my face. There was one little important detail that I hadn’t considered. I didn’t have any money. Apparently I hadn’t thought this through.

“Uh, um, I just realized…” I started, my cheeks flushing to a pink color. “I, um, don’t-”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got it. It’s my treat.” James said, handing the cashier the money and quickly ushering me out of the store before I could protest anymore apart from the “But-” I’d managed to utter during the whole exchange.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I said, looking at the pavement as we walked down the street, my cheeks still flushed from embarrassment.

“It’s no big deal.” he said simply as if he had bought me gum and not a whole outfit.

“You just wasted $30 on me.”

“Pretty strangers get special treatment.”

I sneaked a glance up at him then, and I saw him smiling at me. Our eyes locked and we spent a moment just looking at each other before I looked away. I suddenly felt awkward. And I knew exactly why even though I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

“Hey, what do you say we ditch the ice-cream and go see a movie?” he asked after a few moments of silent walking.

“Really? You’d like to spend more money on me?” I laughed.

“Hey, you’ll treat me next time.” he shrugged, giving me a smile. “Let’s go see a movie? I really want to see a movie.” he said, fake-pouting and trying to look cute.

Spending 2 hours in a dark theater right next to him? Sign me up.

“Fine.” I said, hiding a content smile under my brow. “What movie are we going to see?”

“Clueless.”

“Oh, awesome! An old classic. I love those.” I accidentally blurted out.

“An old classic? What are you talking about? It just came out this year.” He looked at me quizzically.

“Uh, I meant, it’s an old classic because, uh…” Think, (Y/N), think! “It’s based on Jane Austen’s Emma?” I answered unconvincingly, biting my lower lip nervously.

“Uh-huh.” he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, but he didn’t push it. Instead he changed the subject. “So, what’s your favorite movie?”

I was about to say The Matrix and go into my usual narrative about how and why it was my favorite and about the possibility of the actual world we live in being our “matrix” and the general Tumblr approved material, but I stopped myself in the exact right moment, remembering that The Matrix wouldn’t be out for four more years.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” I said, thinking quick. “I just… really like Audrey Hepburn.” I added lamely. “She was great in Roman Holiday as well.” I rambled on.

“Oh, nice. You like the classics.”

You have no idea.

“Yours?” I asked, reciprocating the question.

“Jaws. Steven Spielberg is amazing.”

“I liked Back to the Future a lot better. I loved the-” I abruptly stopped myself before I said the words 'special they did with Michael J. Fox and Christopher Lloyd on The Jimmy Kimmel Show.’ “hover boards.” I replaced quickly.

I scolded myself for forgetting when and where I was. I didn’t like this. I was so comfortable with him that I kept forgetting that he was not, in fact, one of my friends at home and that I had to be careful when talking to him. But what was it about him that made me lose my cool? Was it the dark ebony hair? The sparkling brown eyes? The smile that made your heart race? Oh, Jeez! What was happening? This wasn’t supposed to happen.

We chatted along the way to the cinema and I couldn’t help but smiling a little too much at all his little quirky comments and laughing a bit too much at all his little jokes and anecdotes. He told me about his friends and about the time when they’d gotten locked in a classroom at the end of the school day and had to spend the night at school. I told him about all the things about myself that wouldn’t give away too much about which timeline I was from even though it was strictly against my rules to reveal too much about myself to any of my 'time comrades’ as I liked to call them. But by the time we sat down in our seats at the cinema James knew about my dislike toward anything Math-related if I didn’t understand it and was laughing about the time I accidentally set the toaster on fire anyway. And instead of worrying about the repercussions as I probably should have done, I just smiled widely and slightly enjoyed the feeling of my heart beating a few paces too fast.

I doubt that we would have quieted down if the rest of the audience hadn’t shushed us when the movie was beginning. We managed to spend 20 minutes in mute silence, but then came the nudges and secret smiles and giggles shared between us as if we’d been friends for a lifetime. And somehow that’s how it felt. I’d only known him for a day and this was by no chance a permanent friendship - or a permanent anything, really - but something was blossoming and I still wasn’t sure if I should just enjoy it or if I should be worried about it.

In a moment of silence I felt James’s hand slide over the arm rest slightly and cover my own hand. I felt my heart pick up speed due to the tingling feeling his touch left on my skin and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Ah, screw worrying.

He suddenly leaned toward me. “Remember when I bought you that outfit and you told me I was wasting money on you?” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my skin. I could smell his cologne and to be frank, it was giving me butterflies. But the good kind. The kind I liked. The kind that lifted you up on their wings and made you feel like you were floating.

I nodded slowly, not trusting myself to speak right at that moment.

“Well, I just wanted to tell you that whatever I give you is never going to be something I will consider to be wasted.” He paused for a moment. Our eyes met in the dim lighting and I could see a twinkle in his. “I’m hoping that you’ll let me kiss you now.”

Even though it was strictly against my personal time-travelling rules, I found myself nodding. The next thing I knew I could feel the touch of his lips against my own. I smiled mid-kiss, feeling a rush of ecstasy and euphoria along with the movement of our lips.

“I hope you know that I will never regret giving that kiss away.” he said, as we slowly pulled away from each other.

I chuckled slightly, but the lingering feeling of euphoria was cut short by a different feeling. There it was. The sudden feeling that something was shifting, that something was changing… I knew that I had approximately ten more seconds left and then I would be gone. Gone far away, maybe never to return. But I couldn’t accept that.

I turned to James quickly, a determined look on my face. “We will see each other again some day.”

He looked confused, but I didn’t let him say anything. I didn’t have much time.

“Promise me that you will remember me until then. Promise that you won’t forget about this. About us.”

I wasn’t seeing clearly anymore. His figure was distorted in front of me and the sounds of the cinema were starting to fade.

“Wh-”

“Just promise me!”

He looked genuinely puzzled, but nodded vigorously anyway. “I promise.”

I leaned in, using my last second to give him a quick peck on the lips. And then as fast it had come, the kiss was gone. And so was the cinema. And so was he. But I knew. I knew I’d see him again someday.

So, that was that! I have ideas for a part two of this, so if you want one feel free to request it. ^_^

Or if you have any other requests, my ask box is always open! :)

P.S. I know that Akhmenrah didn’t actually exist, but I just couldn’t resist. I love Night at the Museum, okay? xD Also, King Arthur technically did exist, but not in the same time frame as the actual legend, so yeah… That sort of makes sense. :D

Tenoch Huerta and Iliana Fox in Las Aparicio (2015) dir. Moisés Ortiz Urquidi

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Tenoch Huerta habla en exclusiva sobre Black Panther en Don Cheto Al Aire | La historia de como llegó Tenoch Huerta a la nueva película de M

21K views, 226 likes, 74 loves, 11 comments, 35 shares, Facebook Watch Videos from ESTRELLA TV: La historia de como llegó Tenoch Huerta a la

Namor is in love

Just watching old interviews of Tenoch and in this one he says “ asi es namor esta enamorado el güey” meaning “That’s namor he’s in love, that guy”.

He is saying it as a joke with word play but we can dream right

Polynesian Kiss - A Max Phillips One Shot

Summary: It’s that time of the month, and your period cramps force you to call in sick at work, but Max is only too keen to help you feel better. Isn’t he such a nice boss? And vampires get a bad rep, tsk, tsk…

Pairing: Max Phillips x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 4.8k-ish

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.” 

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.  

Warnings/Triggers: - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/blood/menstration kink/sex whilst menstrating/oral F receiving/fingering/anal play/general vampire noms/Max is just a bloodsucking bastard and we love him for it.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.  

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: After rewatching Bloodsucking Bastards again, this abomination came to me. I make no apologies for it. If you’re currently suffering through your monthly woes, I feel you. Hold strong, besties. 

MAIN MASTERLIST | MAX PHILLPS MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

“Hey, hotshot. How’s my best PA?” 

“Max. I’m your only PA. You ate the others.” You titter with a wry smirk to him with the phone pressed to your ear.

“Guilty, as charged.” He chuckles down the phone, and it’s like you can see that razor sharp gleam as it spreads across his lips reflecting at you here, like a dazzling mirror shard that blinds as deep as it lacerates.

“Are you in the office?” You query knowing he’s a stickler for early starts, seeing as he doesn't sleep himself, but there’s a foreign commotion you can hear around him in the background. 

“En route. Getting my caffeine fix. You want me to pick you up a ‘chino? Extra cream, right? My treat.” He grins down the line and it leaves prickles flooding over your skin. “Ooh, they’ve got those cinnamon swirls I like. Scandalous.” He snorts deliciously around a moan and you feel it steam between your thighs.

“No. Uh, thank you. Listen. I’m not coming in today,” you begin intrepidly.

“Oh no. We’ve got the final audit to prepare for, was counting on ya slugger… Six shots please, and a cinnamon swirl. No, make it two swirls. Fuck it. I’ll go to Pilates this week.” He merges fluidly in between conversations with you and the drive-thru window.

“Although, I already know we’ve smashed it.” Max snickers with a husky breath to you. "The stats are off the fucking wall!" He sounds as excited as a little boy who has just discovered his penis for the first time.

“So modest.” You smirk.

“Hey, my management is style is highly effective. You’ve seen the results.”  

You smile faintly. “Mmhm. Nothing like the constant threat of imminent death to drive success...”

“You better believe it, honey. No, you have a nice day, champ.” You hear the sound of his electric window winding up and can imagine those hands of his bound tightly in his black leather gloves, so the sun doesn't penetrate his skin, as he reaches out through the dark window just rolled down enough for him to take his coffee order.

Driving with Max is like driving in the pitch dark constantly. Blacked out windows and the air conditioning blasting ferociously in the summer heat making his Mustang feel like an unrelenting ice box.

“What’s up, beautiful? You’re sounding verklempt.” His tone is serious now, concerned even over the masculine power roar of his engine, and it makes you melt.

“I’m uh… Not feeling too great.” You sigh, wrapping your arm around your stomach as another cramp rips through your womb. 

“Oh.” You can almost hear him pout. “You got the flu or something?”

“No.” You state toneless.

“Has it happened?” His voice is lower and it sends shivers down your spine alerting your nipples to wake up into stiff, aching peaks in subjugation. 

You nod even though he can’t see. “Yeah.” You whisper.

“You’re early this month.” his voice is but a low din, a growl even.

“I am?” You question, perplexed.

“Yeah. By two days.” You hear him suck in a deep breath and then click his lips. He keeps track of it better than you do. “Okay then. Get prepared. Rest. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

"Max, your meetings-" You don't have time to finish your limp protest.

"I said, I'll be there as soon as I can." He snarls darkly before making a kissy noise down the line. 

You hear the phone hang up before you can argue again at how his diary today is simply too full, but he’s gone and you put yours down on the table in front of you. 

You sit back, folding your arms tightly over your abdomen and sigh out waiting, your heels thudding against the floor occasionally; some automatic anxious reaction that originated from somewhere in your childhood no doubt.

A bit like biting your nails down to the skin until they're sore and tight, or shaking your knee incessantly without realising until someone yells at you to stop fucking doing that!

The first few times it had happened, it had been unpredictable - he was unpredictable.

A volatile mess that scared you the first time he was alone with you in his office; his voice leaving gnarly claws to protrude through the walls to come and get you.

Max Phillips was unlike any other man - any other boss - you’d ever known, although he wasn’t a man, not really.

There was a haunting aura about him, a distinct eeriness that hung off of his Peter Pan-esque shadow that laughed on its own, and you scoffed at first when he’d suggested it. Like it was a joke of some kind; a disgusting, unhygienic joke.

Max didn't laugh, however. He was deadly serious. Emphasis on the deadly.

But then he’d tapped into your curiosity with those wandering brown eyes and hypnotic smirks around pearly canines that had a knack of making you feel like you could walk on cotton candy clouds.

He had mutated any trepidation you'd had until you’d agreed, nodding like a puppet, and you were certain at that point there probably wasn’t anything you wouldn’t agree to where Max was concerned.

He was fucking beautiful and yet under it all, somewhat inherently terrifying.

And it turned you on so much. God, it was fucking unrelenting the way the tops of your thights now constantly stuck themselves together with your slick.

You had sensed it about him, unsure exactly what it was - what he was entirely. That dominant, toxic swagger about him, amped up on fuckboi steroids, that would cause carnage in the office, and you could never put your finger on it. The unusually high turnover of staff, the lingering stench of copper on his breath. The fact the blinds were always drawn and the air conditioning was always on, to the point you could see your breath.

You never spoke about it, none of you. Until the time he tore up the office and replaced all the bone idle employees with the walking undead and then it made perfect sense; he was a vampire, d’uh.

He said you could trust him though. He said he wouldn’t turn you, unless you wanted it - you didn't - and you believed him. He had been true to his word; he hadn’t hurt you at all - not without your express consent for him to take a little nibble on your jugular now and again anyway.

He liked it when you repelled him, made him work harder for it. Fuck, it made him so hard in his tight suit pants when you did that. Strutting around the office in your short skirts and barely-there blouses just to make him see red and chew on his tie.

He’d promoted you, although it was more of a candid expectation seeing as he’d picked his teeth clean with your predecessors.

You did in fact trust him enough to invite him into your home and let him roam unbidden and free inside it and do all those things to you that made your toes curl in the deliciously right way.

Fuck buddies with your boss. Or was it blood brothers now?

You couldn’t help but become enthralled by his spooky enthrall somewhat more and more, and was now resorting to adding this monthly rendezvous to your clandestine proclivities with him as though you had completely lost your sanity, and perhaps you had.

Max was always sharp and concise, straight to the point and no funny nonsense, ma’am. Unless you count him fucking you, bent over his desk, whilst you attempt to type up the meeting minutes as anything but serious.

He could talk his way into anything, including your cunt on a regular turn.

Somewhere inside, it made you shiver. Like something wicked and disgusting was unfurling and leaving those sharp nails to rake down your spine that make you feel sick and giddy in wanton anticipation.

It had to be something that was shameful, immoral; taboo, and yet you willingly engaged in it. You wanted it, craved it as much as he did it seemed.

You just craved him.

You take in a deep breath, the cramping that was present since it had begun in the early hours is deep and twisting in your gut, seeming to increase in its ferocity - it’s like it knows and is getting itself into an excitable tizz. 

You get up and make your way upstairs ready to prepare, clutching your stomach as you go. 

You run the shower in the bathroom; he likes you to be clean. Or as clean as you can be at this time of the month anyway before he dirties you up again.

Day one is always the worst - the heaviest and most painful - but the absolute best time for Max; the most important day where the blood is fresh and plentiful - when you are incredibly ripe for the plucking sweetheart, as he once put it.  

You climb into the shower, washing your hair and body with fruity scents that would make his mouth salivate, and the hot, inviting water starts to soothe the incessant pang pulling inside your uterus. 

There was no pain killer; Max had said it made the blood taste weird so you refrained from taking any. It would barely scrape the sides anyhow. No, the only thing that could tame it completely was him. 

But at this point, after the hot water subsides, the cramps increase in their veracity. A period is the equivalent of a heavy kick in the balls to a man.

No, make that several hundred kicks in the balls, then stamping on them relentlessly.

Or, imagine someone has taken a sledge hammer to them instead; just whacking the shit out of them tirelessly.

Yeah? Well, period pain is fucking worse, buddy.

Feels like someone is twisting your insides without a let up, and then pulling them apart slowly just to spite you. Some women would tell you that child labour hurts less than menstrual cramps.

They would be fucking right about that. 

I think my vagina hates me. I’m not sure what I did to piss her off…

You groan out as another cramp thunders through your core. You look down to see red spots making marble spirals around your feet in the suds, like inkblots being diluted in the water as they swill down the drain. It’s kinda pretty in an abstract way, as you’re mesmerised by those budding tulips for a while. 

You clench internally at what is to come and once out of the shower, dried and dressed in a robe and a clean pair of white cotton panties - without a tampon or towel as instructed by Max, thems the rules, baby - you brush through your hair after blow drying it and wait for him to come to you.

The waiting is the worst part.

You’re sure he’ll be there in the office frantically rearranging his diary, cancelling meetings for you as he gulps desperately at his strong coffee. It curbs the cravings, he'd said after you’d queried his collection of empty six-shot espresso cups collecting in a temple on his desk with a raised eyebrow.  

You gear yourself up to the point your pussy is already sopping and you're desperate to appease yourself with some release. But you never can bring yourself to, knowing that if you save it - save it all for him to have - it would be so much more sweeter. 

Thinking of Max makes your clit swell and throb, that tingle that teeters on the edge of pain and makes it uncomfortable and heavy inside your panties, but the moment he would touch you, it would be worth all the edging and gnawing pressure.

You can feel yourself getting wetter down there and knowing it isn’t just all the blood makes you smile sinisterly. 

When he finally arrives, he lets himself in. 

You could hear him pull up in his red Mustang and the creaky squeak of the door slamming shut after that deep roar of his engine was reduced to a dying purr.

Those quick scraping footsteps of his polished leather shoes against the gravel as he plays hopscotch with the shadows out of the direct sun.

The sound of him using the key you gave him to let himself into your apartment. Inviting the monster in to come and play with your guts and offals. 

You had to invite him in the first time. Laughing as he physically couldn't cross the threshold of your door without verbal invitation. Like there was an actual barrier there. Now, he comes and goes as he pleases.

Sometimes, in the dead of the night, you would wake to find him pawing at you; fangs and cock bared. He takes from you whenever he wants, and you always let him.

Goose bumps flood all over your body and tingles run tightly across your scalp in suspense. 

As he rounds the stairs up to your door, Max can smell you already and his gut rumbles as does his loins inside his tight, navy suit pants.

Once in your apartment, he pushes the door open to your bedroom to see you lying on the duvet with a towel spread underneath you, and you're wrapped up in a fluffy robe looking a little worn and tired despite flashing your effervescent smile for him. 

“Hey,” you beam at him and he shuts the bedroom door behind him with a gentle click.

He’s holding a small posy of flowers and it makes you smile that the vampire is a little bit of a sentimental doof under it all. 

He stands there watching you and keeps his distance for a few moments as you shuffle upright; a hot water bottle is revealed to him that's tucked inside the folds of your gown resting against your stomach to quell the pain.

“Are those for me?” You ask, as he puts them in the vase on your dresser, discarding the old ones that are slightly withered now into the trash can.

They are pink and bulbous and always a token of affection in thanks for what he is about to do to you. But you don’t see it as a quid pro quo at all. You want this just as much as he does. The peonies are just a pretty bonus.

Max nods at you and smiles thinly through his pink lips. 

“How you feeling, baby?” He queries. He loosens his tie and then slides it out from under the shirt collar completely and tucks it into his back pants pocket. 

“I’ve been better.” You say. 

“I can smell it.” He sighs, smirking. "Pungent. Mmm."

You nod slowly. “I know.”

“Show me.” He instructs, removing his suit jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves to reveal tan arms. An unusual trait for a vampire, you think. 

You remove the hot water bottle and plonk it on the floor by the bed and untie your gown, slipping it off over your shoulders. Puffy nipples that were embedded asleep inside your warm areolas greet him and he stares like a letch at them, licking his lips. 

You rest back on your elbows with your knees drawn up and he zones in on the damp, bloody patch that has seeped through your cotton panties peeking back at him between your ankles.

Incredibly exposed before him - the most intimate you could ever be with him - you're spread vulnerable and showing him exactly what he's after as you part your legs. The red patch is soaking into your panties like a flower slowly blooming and opening up just for him.

You pull your panties up by the waist band, using them as reins as you rub them against yourself, smearing it in further. He watches with a thick smirk as you moan and pant at the feel of them grazing against your engorged clit.

It feels fucking delicious.

“Take them off,” Max directs with a hiss between his teeth, lying his jacket down on the chair by your dresser after folding it neatly. 

You shimmy them down slowly and hold them out to him. His long, thick fingers snatch them from your hands and immediately they go to his nose.

He sniffs in deep and his eyes roll into the back of his head leaving just the whites, before he puts the crotch of them inside his mouth and sucks deeply against the damp, stained cotton. 

A desperate catch in the back of his throat he can all but choke on, sounds out of him like a wolf howling at the moon as he growls out in satisfaction.

The taste of your syrupy fluids and blood dancing over his tongue in a delightfully salty-chrome tango, is firing his synapses and setting his whole body alight.

He’s barely holding it together as you notice him visibly shaking.

“O-open your legs,” he growls menacingly through his mouthful, peering down at you and fighting to stave off his other face from making an appearance - his true face that he knows unnerves you. You do as he instructs, desperate to please your marauding boss.

You watch as he shudders more and sucks greedily at your panties, arousing you further as he stares at your glistening, ruby soaked cunt with eyes turning more jet by the second.

Max clocks the sanguine vision of you spread before him on the bed, making his mouth salivate and his fangs ache to protrude fully. He blinks away the red mist descending upon him and swallows through a now tightly constricted throat.

He puts the panties inside his jacket pocket for safekeeping and kneels on the end of the bed, crawling up it like an ominous spider creeping towards you.

"All for me," he purrs with a devilish grin.  

He runs his lips against your knee and up your thigh as he descends upon you. His teeth catch on your nipple making you gasp before his tongue soothes it with a wet pop out of his mouth.

He takes your wrists and pulls you down towards him, positioning you just right so you are lying fully supine now; the towel is still spread out underneath you, not that you’ll need it.

He’ll make sure to get every last drop of you.

“Come here, you.” He growls and cold mist is pouring out of his mouth onto your body. "Going to eat you the fuck up."

Max can smell it; see the glistening claret shine around your pussy lips sparkling at him, and that plumpy clit growing and swelling out of the hood of your skin desperate for a good lick.

Droplets of crimson fluid bead at your entrance and a couple had rolled down your skin towards your ass leaving a delicious track for him to devour.

It’s darker in colour around your sodden hole and the iron rich smell is driving him crazy, his jaw twitching and cracking. “There’s so much,” he says with keen appraisal. “Does it hurt?” 

Max runs his hand up your leg and rests it on your abdomen; his palm splayed across it like a giant starfish swamping your navel, and feeling the coolness emanate from it as it's absorbed into your skin makes you whine with need. 

His healing hand soothing you as he presses onto you a little with his weight and it's those small gestures like this from him that make it all better to endure through the pain somehow.

That make you believe you could mean something more to him than just being a walking, talking bloodbag.

You nod and bite your lip as his fingertips feel like they throb and burn on your skin’s surface despite their cold. 

“I’ll make it all better, baby.” Max assures. And you know he will - he always does. 

His dark, now almost fully black eyes, flick down to your sopping slit as he shifts, and he cranes his head forward a little, licking up the length of your seam slowly with a flat, pressed tongue.

The taste of you floods his taste buds and senses immediately like he’s just shot up.

You throw your head back taking in a deep, heavy hit of oxygen. The feel of his cool breath against you and the slither of his serpent tongue leave electric sparks flooding through your veins. 

"Mmm, Max..." You shiver and grin.

His hand is still on your stomach, thumb stoking in little circles below your belly button; his other reaching towards your centre where his long fingers are sliding and probing against the edges of your sodden slit.

Max runs his index finger along the fleshy ribbons of your folds that are dyed a deep, entrancing scarlet. He would go to push it inside your tasty well and then pull away, teasing you.

“Mmm,” you moan, your body squirming and flinching under him.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Max simmers, smirking.

He knows what he's doing when he winds your body up like this. With that darned smile he can get away with anything and you both fucking know it as it slithers across his face like a snake about to attack its prey ferociously. 

“Please,” you whine. "Don't tease me, not today."

“You’re so fucking cute when you’re needy.” He soothes and plants a little kiss just above your clit making you groan further in frustration. He pouts and makes his voice a little squeaky. "You like that, baby? Hmm? Like it when I tease your little, needy pussy like this?"

"Max, please!" You growl this time. "Just fucking eat me."

He snickers and pats onto your pussy before rubbing his fingers all in it, knocking against your hard clit through the squelches, and running the pads all over those fleshy, swollen lips. Finger painting inside the rich red that coats them making them shiny like latex, before putting them inside his gluttonous mouth.

Max groans out as he sucks and licks each of them clean, savouring the metallic taste and dipping in again and again before he presses his lips to your sex finally to feast. 

"Oh shit!" You simper.

You feel his tongue dart in and out in quick succession and the flesh on your legs dissolve. He removes his hand from your stomach and spreads your lips with his thumbs, opening you up for him and running his tongue in your wet slick, flicking back and forth across the hard nub of your spongy clit. 

“Fuck,” you whine seeing stars and feeling the heat simmering in your lower abdomen start to boil.

He sucks and gnaws on it; slurping loudly around it and pulling it between his pert lips before letting it go, sending your body erratic and writhing under his expert touch. 

“Max...” You groan out utterly beside yourself.

“Say my name, baby. Let me hear you.” Max coerces with a mirthy chuckle and suckles on it again, pinching his teeth around it and watching you lose your shit every time. 

“Oh fuck, Max!” You wail as your back arches and your pussy spasms. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Tastes so good,” he confirms. "Want to devour you," he grunts darkly at you. The skin on his face darken a little, his muscles and features changing shape; shadows becoming more prominent.

"Eat me all up?" You squeak, your fingers gripping tight around the duvet.

"Until there's nothing left of you." His voice changes; it's deeper, more throatier and you know the vampire within is awake and stirring now. "Gonna rip this cunt open!"

Your right thigh judders uncontrollably as he polishes that pearl with his tongue; flicking back and forth with acute speed and bringing your first come session of the day so easily.

Growling and grunting loudly as he feasts on you with unhurried abandon. His grip on your skin is harder and you can see the strain whitening his knuckles as he fights to hold back from fully vamping out.

"Oh fuck!" You keen, shaking and tensing.

He watches, his dark eyes flicking up as his mouth stays firmly clamped to your slit, as your breasts jiggle and your nipples are as hard as diamonds.

Your whole body jolts and jerks hard before you flatline under him when you can take no more. 

You’re stunned, smashed around the head with gold stars, and panting as your focus shifts back to his creeping shadow between your legs after being blind and boneless.

Your face is all red; nipples swollen as you come wildly in his plundering mouth.

You watch him with blown out pupils mouthing all over your pussy; clit pulsing under his thrashing tongue and ready for more as you feel it start to tighten and cinch again.

"Mm-maax!" You groan. It's so senitive, so plump and swollen. So... delicious.

Smirking, Max curls his middle two fingers into your soaked, scarlet entrance and laps up his reward; your blood, your come, smearing around his lips messily, like trying to apply lipstick on a rollercoaster.

He fucking loves it.

"You wanna come again?" He taunts darkly through a raspy smirk.

He hums out in satisfaction as he drinks more from you greedily, sticking his tongue in further and further to get more from that sodden inkpot that feels like it’s gushing constantly for him now.

He pushes your legs up by the backs of your thighs, opening you up and licking down your gooch towards that puckered urchin of your ass hole, where a lusty mix of his saliva, the blood and your pussy slick had dripped down it creating a wonderful cocktail that he would get drunk on happily, all day. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m having a reeeally good time.” He slurps menacingly. “So glad I cancelled that meeting with the Bordstein Group. Mmm, fuck.”

Your neck cricks up at him. "Wait. You cancelled it? They were hard bastards to pin down..." You whine as he laps against your ass hole and pushes the tip through your rim. "Oh, that's so good, Max. Oh Jesus..."

"You can re-arrange it. It's cool." He shrugs, his mouth full of you.

"You make it sound easy. Pete is a - oh fuck, yeessss - a-a busy man."

"Look, if he wants a collaboration, he'll make time." Max snorts. "You can sweet talk him, baby. Now shut up and give me another one." He smooshes you further into his mouth with a quick yank of your hips upward.

You yelp and chortle waspily as he dives back in. He runs his tongue around the sticky rim of your ass and slathers around it before sliding his index finger in as he works his mouth back towards your bloodied snatch, clamping around it once more as he drinks you down. 

He finger fucks your tight hole as he eats out your trembling cunt, and he can feel you clench around his finger as he invades your butt deeper. 

“Relax,” Max soothes you, his teeth stained pink and clamps right back onto that messy muff.

He slips in another wet finger and fills up your ass to the knuckles, sucking on your clit again.

“Oh fuck!” You flop down onto the pillow, getting a neck ache from craning to look at him and just succumb to the blooming feeling inside your ass, completely distracting you now from the cramps altogether. A wonderful placebo to occupy you as Max fucks you up sideways with that dangerous hot mouth of his. 

He smears his tongue around, mopping you up and getting as much of you as he can; sucking you dry and clean before he would dart into your pussy hole and tease out more that you had to offer. 

All the while he keeps his fingers inside your ass, curling and pumping as he watches your thighs tremble and pulsate around the sides of his head.

He marvels at how your body reacts to him without him having to use his enthrall; you submit to him wholly and he loves it.

With a gooey, slick smile, Max laps at your pussy hungrily again and again like a rabid dog as you start to come apart at the seams once more. 

“Oh God!” You call out, gripping hold of the duvet and pulling at it tightly as your body contorts and bucks against his face. You can feel another orgasm building and twisting your spine out of shape.

“God isn’t going to help you, sweetheart,” Max confirms before he chews on your clit once more and lets you explode again. "The Devil on the other hand..."

“Oh, I can’t, I can’t-” You’re quaking now, the pleasure doing an absolute number on you and he keeps his tongue on your sensitive clit. You can see flashes behind your eyelids; feel your body contort and pulse. “Maa-hax!”

“You can,” he encourages as he flicks across your nub hard with a fast, busy tongue. “Come in my mouth, baby. Give it all to me.”

And you do.

"AaaahhhohGodpleasepleaseMax!”

You arch your back, trying to get away from his mouth, the wonderful feeling becoming too much; you’re drowning, unable to breathe and so fucking dizzy, but he presses down on your stomach again holding you in place so you can’t scarper away.

"Oh fuuucck!"

He forces you to confront it, to accept it and drown in that tidal wave as it crashes over your head and pulls you under. Your ears are ringing and your toes are breaking.

“Fuck me, Max...” You plead, gasping and burning at him as you resurface. “I want you to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you hard?” He replies, teasing you.

“Please, just cover your cock in me.” You gasp as he draws up and unzips his pants.

He pulls himself out, thick and hard and leaking pre-cum as he pumps a few times before lining himself up against you. He wastes no time in giving you what you crave. 

You grip onto him, his shirt twisting in your vice-like grip as he sinks his cock inside you and begins thrusting, hard, just like you want it.

He feels you squeezing around him almost immediately as he rips through you, sending you erratic and spiralling and coming so forcefully around his dick quickly, that your body goes rigid and shakes as though possessed.

“Yeah, like that!” He coos at you, growling. He bears his teeth, grunting as he power fucks into you. "There you go, baby. Love it when I destroy this pretty cunt, don't you?"

“Maa-hax, fu-uu-ck!” You cry out; your voice being battered out of your throat, releasing uncontrollably and panting wildly.

It’s so wet between your legs that every thrust squelches obscenely.

“What huh, you want me to stop? I don’t think you want that.” He growls. Once more his face shifts, his fangs are out fully now.

You shake your head, gasping hard through a dry throat. You grip onto him as his face lwers closer to yours, the vampire breaking through.

You whimper and squeak through your pants.

“You want me to stop?” Max prompts again as he eases his grip, slows his pace with smooth, deep strokes; another tempo just as easily fucking you up again.

You can feel him so deeply inside you as he drives his hips forward; his body crushing yours like a hydraulic press into the mattress.

You can see he's fighting to stay fully in control as his human face reappears from under the dark lines and brow ridges.

“No, don’t stop,” you choke as your body fizzes like fireworks. “Please… More.” You whine, losing your breath as he fucks it right out of your lungs until you can no longer form coherent words around your tongue and you’re left babbling.

“That’s right; you don’t want it to stop, do you? Such a fucking slut for my cock. Letting me fuck you whilst you're bleeding all over it." Max croons into your neck and you can feel his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin there. "So fucking nasty, baby."

Fisting through his hair, you grip him tight as his hips snap into yours with vigour. “Not even breaking out into a sweat.” Max taunts inside your ear. “I can keep this up all day. In fact, I think I just might.” 

“Oh God, fuck.” You mewl.

"Want to drink you again. Let me?" Max presses his tongue over that juicy vein in your neck.

"Yeah," you pant as he gathers your hair away from the side of your neck. "Not too much-"

"I know," he croons. "Just a drop or two. You can take it."

Sharp stings are felt on your throat as he tastes you there too, puncturing the skin and swallowing you down.

It’s a heady feeling as he drinks; the niggly pain soon dissipating and making you see bokeh stars behind your eyelids.

The pull is sumptuous, dreamy. Comforting as your eyes flutter shut and you sink into the serene peace his immortal kiss offers.

“Fucking delicious,” he smirks as he runs his mouth up the side of your cheek; his hot, blood stained breath left to condensate inside your ear canal.

Growling and rabid, Max pulls out and slides down your body and licks up your oozy slit again, tasting you and smearing the bloody and sticky pulp across his lips.

"You’re such a good little PA for me. You take it so well every time.” He praises, pushing his fingers into your pussy once more and rooting around inside of you. "Going to give you more, baby. I know you've got more for me. And I'm nowhere near full yet."

He strokes your cushiony insides that are sodden and plump and allow him to slide in and out with ease. You still feel tight and bound from your orgasms, but he's able to bring about another one that leaves you caterwauling for him again.

He’s the conductor and you his orchestra, making sweet music to his ears whilst he faps and eats you out and then some for hours, until the day is bleached away into the encroaching twilight outside.

His stamina destroys you, bruises your bones as he fucks you over and over until you think you’ll never be able to walk again. 

And when he eventually comes, with a deep throaty howl that seems to vibrate through the whole building and cracks your neighbour's window panes, spilling himself wholly inside of you, he sucks it all out with the blood and swallows it down, remaining rock hard until he does it all over again. And again. 

And a-fucking-gain. 

“Hmm... love this pussy,” Max confirms, suckling gently at your over-sensitive bud and you’re beside yourself with the intense rapture of it all. 

Boneless mush. A drooling mess. Crying and wailing for more, pumped full of sequinned delirium.

By the time he’s finished feasting on you, you’re utterly exhausted and barely able to keep your eyes open. 

Max spends time cleaning you up. Licking around your inner thighs and filling up on all the spots he might’ve missed.

Fawning, delicate. The vampire is fully satiated for now.

He walks over to your dresser, running his thumb around his lips to get the crust of the dried blood over them, and his once crisp, white shirt is now a pink stained mess, like an artist who has gone berserk with his paint pots.

He pulls out a pair of clean underwear and slides them up your legs and taps your ass gently, rousing your sleepy focus back to him. 

"B-12," he finger shoots at you and you nod over to the supplements on your dresser. He brings them, and a band-aid that he sticks over the bite marks on your neck, and gives it a gentle press in place.

"There, all better." He smirks darkly.

He then leans forward and kisses you on the lips. Max pushes those plumpy, blood stained lips of his onto your own and kisses you deeply, slowly.

He slides his tongue into your mouth and massages it delicately. You can taste the metallic remnants of yourself on him, taste your salty-sweet cunt all around his gums. 

“See why I can’t get enough of your taste, hmm?” He murmurs around your lips as you sample yourself on him with mounting fervour.

He’s right, you do taste good.

Max groans into your mouth as you clutch at the back of his head hungrily and wanting more, despite your battered body yelling at you to rest. He falters again, sliding forward on the bed and gripping you tightly into his body.

You can feel the bulge of his still solid cock poking you in the gut, and you reach down to give him a rub and a gentle squeeze before he removes your hand and strokes your fingers inside of his stained ones.

God, he's like walking viagra. Constantly fucking hard. Well, he is dead. Technically the term is rigor-mortis... 

“The things I still want to do to you..." he utters with a low grunt. "But you need sleep.” He purrs gently, smoothing down your frayed hair.

“Stay,” you whimper as he pulls away.

“Can’t tonight, baby. Got lots to catch up on. You’ve kept me busy all day. Going to have to pull an all-nighter.”

“Oops.” You smile dreamily at him.

“Oops.” Max remarks with a dangerous grin. “You think you’ll be in tomorrow? Could really use your support with the audit.”

You nod. “I’m feeling better already.” 

“Good.” He smiles and kisses you once more. “Rest up. Tomorrow I’m going to fuck you in the supply closet from eleven til half-twelve. I'll send you a meeting invite.” He smirks as he pulls down and buttons his cuffs.

The noise that comes out of you in response makes him chuckle darkly.

Holy fuck… 

Max pulls away from you, slipping out of your grip, leaving you to settle on the bed as he gathers his jacket. He pulls your bloodied panties out and gives them a sniff as he winks at you.

You can only imagine what he's going to do with them later.

He leaves the bedroom and you hear him let himself out. 

You collapse back on the bed, somewhat bereft, hearing his car start up with that familiar deep roar.

It fades away down the street and takes any sense of conscious thought you have with him. 

Rolling over and reaching for the B-12, you sigh out with a satiated smile and close your eyes thinking about the supply closest.

And the amount of times your freakishly insatiable boss, Max, has fucked you up in there already.

I really hope you enjoyed reading this Max Phillips story of mine. Just love a bit of hungry, gnarly Max, don't you? If you enjoyed what you just read, please consider re-blogging. Thank you so much! 🖤🩸

MAIN MASTERLIST | MAX PHILLIPS MASTERLIST

The Lesson (Crush Drabble)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have something that you want Javi to teach you.

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older)

Content:  Explicit Smut (Risk of Getting Caught, Dirty Talk, Size Kink, Innocence Kink, Oral, Fingering, PinV sex, teacher/student dynamic), Age Gap (15 years), Yearning, Pining, Insecurity

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: Happy Crush Day, friends! Here we are again! This happens about a week after Part I. No spoilers for future parts.

Special thanks to @leylinefiction and @captainlexi94 for sending in asks about this topic in particular. 😘

Masterlist  | Series Masterlist

Javier Peña. Javier Peña. Javier Peña. If only your diary could see you now. 

In his room. In his bed. And not for the first time.

You smile as you turn over on your side, take a deep inhale of the scent that clings to his pillow. He smells so good. How does he always smell so good? The scent is not even one you can easily identify. He just…he smells like heat feels. The way it can make you burn even as you long to curl up against it. 

You turn onto your back again as you listen for the sound of the shower across the hall. Knowing he’s in there without a stitch of clothing and without you seems particularly unfair. You close your eyes and picture it. Wet hair and wet skin. The smell of his soap and his shampoo curling into the steam. Water running from the shower head to his broad shoulders and strong arms, a steady stream down the planes of his chest and stomach, lower to…You groan, grab the pillow from behind your head and press it to your face. 

It had been easier to think straight back before you knew what he looked like naked. The things you could have accomplished…back before your sex drive took over and flipped a switch in your brain as easily as he likes to flip you on his mattress. 

Yes, you had pined, you had fantasized–had you ever fantasized, but now you know. And God, did he have to be so pretty? Isn’t the real thing not supposed to ever be able to compare to what you've imagined?

Will that be the case for this, too?

You’re doing it. Tonight. You’ve decided. You can’t keep losing your nerve just because you’re not completely sure of what to do. After all, you’ve done it before, and your college boyfriend certainly hadn't complained so…But what if you do something wrong and Javier decides he’d prefer someone with a bit more experience?

No, you’re doing this. You want to do this. It has been on your mind every time you’ve been with him, every time you’ve seen him strip his clothes away, every time you’ve felt the thick width of him pushing into you. Not to mention every few hours in between.

You want to know what he would feel like in your mouth. What he tastes like. You want to make him feel good like he always does for you. Want to hear the sounds he makes, the words he says.

Just like that, bonita. Always so good for me.

You moan, remove the pillow from your face and open your eyes to stare up at the popcorn ceiling and the spinning wicker-blade fan. You should have just gone in there with him. You had been insane not to. The risk of getting caught pales in comparison to the reality of not getting pressed up between him and those shower tiles right now.

Sure, you’d never be able to look Chucho in the eyes again, and he’d probably tell your parents but is that really…

Bad. Very bad. Get a grip.

You take a deep breath and sit up, pushing up the bed until your back is against the headboard. This is better. Collected. Patient. Simply and calmly waiting for him to return as if your stomach isn’t in knots and you’re not already embarrassingly wet between your thighs from a few kisses and from just thinking of him.

Jesus Christ, you want him so bad it aches.

How long has it been since he helped you through the window? Can’t be more than a few minutes even though it feels more like hours.

You had come over as soon as you’d been sure your parents were asleep, had expected to find that Chucho already was as well but…Instead Javier had pulled you through the window with even more haste than the previous night, had kissed you before you could get out a single word. 

“Pop’s still awake,” he had whispered in your ear when he pulled away. “We just got done.”

“With what?” You had whispered back. You had been able to taste the hard work from the day in the salt on his lips, feel it in the way his dirt and dust-streaked white button-up shirt was damp with sweat beneath your palms. 

“We put in a new gate in the back pasture. Took way longer than it should have. Fuck, been thinking about this all day.” He had leaned down to kiss you again then, hungrier, more urgent, a tempo that you had instantly risen to meet as your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. 

He had groaned when your fingers hit bare skin, had slipped his hands into the back pockets of your jeans and tugged you against him. Not really necessary since you had already been trying to press up against him in any way you could.

“Bonita.” His voice had been low, insistent, drawing you even closer. “Come shower with me.” 

You had already been nodding, his mouth a teasing breath away from yours, when the first thing he’d said had started shouting at you from the last remnants of your self-control. 

“Wait.” Your head had jerked back as Javier made a low sound of disapproval at the loss of contact. “You just said Chucho was still awake.”

“He’s going to bed. We'll be quiet,” he had reassured you, sounding so very confident that could be the case that you had almost believed him, especially with the way he was nosing along your shoulder until—

The sound of a door opening and closing somewhere in the house had made you jump, and even Javier had done a quick turn to make sure the door hadn’t been his own. When his eyes returned to yours, the resignation that he would be showering alone had already been there. 

“Alright, fine.” Another deep kiss with just enough teeth to it to let you know he was anything but fine with it. “Five minutes.”

Five minutes. It has to have been five minutes by now. 

As if on cue, you hear the water shut off, the sound of metal curtain rings being dragged forcefully along the rod, a brief pause, the sound of one door opening and then another. 

You’re not sure you even register the sound of his bedroom door shutting again before everything zeros in on him. All he’s wearing is a towel, hung low across his waist, though he seems to have barely taken time to use it. His hair is just roughly dried, water droplets still on his skin. His eyes are already dark when they find you on his bed.

You collide somewhere in the middle, with you halfway off the bed and him halfway on. He barely pauses when he connects with you, his arm wrapping around your waist and carrying you through the rest of his trajectory to the center of the bed. Your shirt is already clinging to your skin before he gets the chance to tug it off, water from his bare chest absorbed into the soft fabric. Your jeans are next, the button popped loose with a flick of his fingers before he drags them down your legs. Then you’re on your back, his hands racing down your body. 

You arch into him with a quiet moan, your mouth seeking his. He smells so good. He always smells so good. His own scent now mixing with the smell of soap and the taste of mint. You can feel yourself getting lost in it, slipping happily into the sensation of being surrounded by him.

No, you said tonight. You want to do this tonight.

Your hands push at his shoulders once and then again a bit harder, and he rolls onto his back while rolling you on top of him. You straddle him, the towel now lost and only the thin fabric of your underwear separating you. You roll your hips against him, feeling him hard and ready beneath you before you bend down to cup his face in your hands. Your mouth presses against his, soft and sweet, as you try to settle yourself, and you feel his brow furrow against yours. His hands move to cradle your back as he sits up with you.

“You alright?” He murmurs against your mouth, and you nod, breathy and nervous again.

“Yeah, I just, um..” You tangle your fingers in his wet hair as your lips move from his mouth to his jaw. “There’s something I want to do.”

His shoulders release some of their tension, and he tips his head back to give you better access. “What do you want, bonita?”

You reach the crook of his neck and nuzzle in for just a moment before you place an open mouthed kiss along his shoulder and start to move lower. “I, um…” 

You’re halfway down his chest, your palms on his shoulders, before his hands wrap around your upper arms and pull you back up. His right hand releases you so he can cup your jaw and make your eyes meet his.

“What do you want?” he asks you, his eyes warm and searching. “Tell me.” He’s always so patient with you.

“I want you…” You answer him softly, your voice trailing off before you can get the rest out. His head tilts to the side, probably trying to understand what you could possibly mean when he had been halfway to having you before you had made him slow down.

Your eyes drop from his as you try to get the words out. Why does this have you so worked up? It’s like you’re tripping over yourself. 

His mouth meets yours, coaxing, his tongue lazily stroking the seam of your lips until you part for him. He captures your bottom lip then, nipping lightly, and the hand that’s still on your arm starts making soothing passes up and down. 

“Where do you want me, bonita? Is that the better question?” He murmurs to you. His hand is still on your jaw as you quietly nod, and your own hands grasp his and shift it higher. When his thumb brushes your lips, you open, your tongue tracing it before you wrap your lips around it and suck.

He hisses out a breath, his hips involuntarily jerking beneath you as he shifts you in his lap. “You want me in your mouth, cariño? That what you want?” He drags his thumb from your mouth, swiping the wet tip against your bottom lip. 

“I just, um, I don’t really know…” You confess. “Can you tell…teach me? What you like?”

His eyes squeeze shut, a ragged breath in and out. When his eyes open again, it’s only halfway as he studies you. “Fuck, you’re killing me.” He kisses you, hard, the hand that had been on your jaw edging back to bury itself in the hair at the nape of your neck as you grip his arm. “Yes, baby, I’ll teach you.”

You let out a soft whine as a shot of need spikes through you, almost like you had been waiting for confirmation that you would be getting what you want. You lean forward to kiss him again right above his pulse point, feeling the rapid beat.

You go slowly, Javier leaning back on his arms as you start to work your way down his chest. There are still drops of water on his skin that haven’t been wiped away by you or his sheets, and you lap them up with your tongue wherever you find them. When you capture one along his side, just beneath his ribs, his muscles tense and you see his fingers curl more firmly into his quilt. Your eyes flick up to meet his, and the want in them makes your breath catch.

You need to do this more. Take time studying every inch of him so you can commit it to memory.  Every rise and fall, every place that he’s sensitive, every piece that makes him…him. 

You shift again, crawling backward, and he adjusts so that you can settle into the open space between his legs. His hard length is lying flush against the soft swell of his stomach as you lower yourself, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding as you draw close. When you look up at him once more, his eyes are on you from beneath his dark lashes, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

There’s a bead of moisture on the tip, and you’re not sure if it’s still from the shower or from him before you reach out to lick it up just as you had the others. The salty taste that immediately hits your tongue and the way he moans tells you that it’s him, and you do it again, then again in hopes that he’ll give you more. 

“Fuck,” Javier murmurs as he groans and rolls his head back. “Cariño, you seem to be doing just fine on your own. That good?”

You nod, your mouth still close enough that your lips brush up and down the underside of his length. Since he seems to like it, you repeat the movement with your tongue, a broad and firm stripe up before you return to the sensitive head. You wrap your lips around him and suckle lightly.

“That’s it. Good girl, fuck, just like that.” His words zing through you and settle right between your thighs making you squeeze them together. You’re tempted to slip your hand between them to give yourself some relief but instead you wrap it around his base, your fingers not quite touching. 

Fuck, he’s so big. How will you even take him in your mouth?

“You can grip a little harder, baby,” he tells you softly, more of a suggestion than a demand. You’re quick to follow but hesitate when you worry you’ll hurt him. He sits up a little more, still bracing himself on one hand while his other reaches down to cover yours. He squeezes. “You feel that? How tight?”

You nod again, breaking your gaze away from the sight of his hand enveloping yours so you can see his face. 

“That’s how tight you squeeze me when I’m buried inside you, little thing.” His hand starts to move yours slowly up and down, and you swallow hard as you watch him. He lets out an uneven exhale. “Feels good, baby, just like that.”

You dip your head again to lick up the moisture leaking from the tip, and his hand tightens even harder over yours when you take the head of him back into your mouth. When you start to suck, he rotates his wrist slightly, guiding you to do the same as you continue to work him up and down. You don’t stop when he takes his hand away. 

“Fuck, bonita, so good. So good for me.” His breathing is coming in quick pants, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watches you.

You’re practically vibrating from the praise, the ache between your thighs nothing when you have the chance to hear more of it. Feeling bolder, you start to sink down on him, letting the smooth hard skin stroke your tongue before you pull back up. He moans, one of his hands burying itself in your hair, holding it back and away from your face. On the next dip down, you go lower.

Your progress is steady, taking him a little deeper each time. He keeps shifting slightly beneath you, low sounds escaping even when he manages to keep his movements restrained. Still every once in a while his hips roll, his hand tugs. Every once in a while his control slips. You like it when it does.

You’re breathing through your nose, taking in the spiced scent of him and the clean smell of soap as you press closer, your mouth almost brushing your still moving hand. You get so lost in the rhythm, the feeling of him overwhelming you, the taste of him on your tongue, that you slip a little farther down than you’d intended. You choke, cough as you hit your gag reflex and pull away. 

“Sorry,” you mutter as your cheeks flush suck in a breath.

“Sorry?” he croons to you. “I can barely keep it together, cariño.” He leans forward to cup the back of your head and pull you closer so he can kiss your forehead. “You’re perfect, baby, just go slow.”

You settle back between his legs and try again, going slower this time like he said. You move your hand away from the base to cup him lower, massaging gently and swallowing back the urge to gag again when you go as deep as you can. You swallow, your nose brushing the wiry hair at the base and your exhaled breath drifting through it as you hold and hold even as your jaw begins to ache.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pulls you off of him fast, rougher than you’re used to him handling you, and a thrill goes up your spine as he drags you back up into his lap. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask, your voice shaky.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me fucking come.” He reaches for the drawer of his nightstand, hand fumbling for a condom as you smile, wrap your arms around his neck, and nestle into his chest. Once he has one, you lift up, giving him space to roll it on, and you’re about to move to the side so you can slip off your panties when he pulls you back, tugs the fabric to the side with a quick efficiency and slips two fingers inside as you moan at the stretch.

“Stay right here. Going to fucking lose it.” His fingers start to thrust shallowly in and out. “Fuck you are dripping.” His free hand grabs your chin so that your face is an inch from his. “You’re perfect, you understand?” 

You lean in so he’ll kiss you, but instead he slips his fingers out. You panic, afraid he might leave you on this edge. “Wait, yes, I understand…”

“Good.” He lines himself up and starts pushing in. “Look at you. Already ready to take me. You get this turned on sucking my cock, cariño?” 

You whimper as you start to move with him, making slow progress as you sink down that reminds you of the way you took him in your mouth. You groan.

“Going to have to get you to learn to use those words as your next lesson, bonita.” He thrusts into you, deep and to the hilt, and you gasp as he hits the spot deep inside that makes you see stars, but then he stops moving again.

“Javi,” you plead with him, “move.” 

He does, but it’s a slow rock into you that’s not nearly enough. “You need something more, cariño? Tell me.”

“Please,” you murmur, trying to rotate your hips on your own. “Harder.” The change is immediate, his thrusts punching into you as your head falls back. “Yes, just like that. Fuck, Javi.”

“There you go, bonita. Taking it so well.” He nips his way down the side of your neck. “What else will you tell me if I keep letting you ride my cock, hm? That what it takes to get you to use your words?”

“Mm.” You can feel it dragging you under, that climax that had been building since you’d climbed in through his window. Maybe before. “What do you—” He rewards you again with a snap of his hips. “What do you want to hear?”

“I want to hear you ask for what you wanted earlier. I want to hear you say it.” His hands move to your back, undoing the clasp of your bra before helping you slip it off and toss it to the side. His wide palms support you as he leans you back, your hands returning to their favorite place in his hair as his mouth finds you. Teeth graze your nipple, before he wraps his lips around the hardened peak, and you keen.

“I—I wanted…” His movements start to slow, and you get the rest out in a rush. “I wanted your cock in my mouth. I wanted to taste you, wanted to make you feel good, and…” One of his hands drifts down to hover over your clit. “And I wanted you to fuck me.”

He grins against your skin. You can feel it. “Good girl.”

His fingers rub your clit as his mouth captures your other breast and his pace quickens just slightly, and it’s enough…more than enough. You come, clinging to him, and biting your lip to keep from crying out from the force of it. 

He’s not far behind you, seemed to only be holding on as long as you did. He grips you tight as he lets go, moving until the height of it passes, then he slowly falls back with you so that you’re once again lying on top of him.

Several long minutes pass before you’ve caught your breath. When you have, you fold your arms across his chest, raise up and peer down at him. He looks sleepy but satisfied, eyes drifting closed and the corner of his mouth turned up.  

“What are you thinking about, bonita?” He asks, his hand starting to draw lazy circles on your bare back.

You press your mouth against his chest, a mischievous smile playing at your lips. “I was thinking about what other things you might like to teach me.”

His eyes open wider, and he raises his head enough that his gaze locks with yours. “Bonita, I will teach you anything you want to learn. All you have to do is ask.”

he snuggle 🥺

zoomed in because it’s too cute:

THE MANDALORIAN | Ch 24: The Return (of pedro’s slutty little knee)

So is everyone suddenly watching Community or does this quarantine just bring out the Abed Nadir in all of us?

Corrupt Idol, Dinah Harper