#the only reason to watch that awful film

[steponremix91]

Sally Kellerman in Lost Horizon (1973)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

( 🟦 🎞️ 🟦 )

AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?

I (27M) and my coworker (25M) usually have “movie nights” on our days off. We find time to sit down and watch a movie together. He’s usually agreeable on what movie I want to watch, but sometimes I do let him choose the movie, as long as I don’t find it too unbearable. (His taste in cinema is below average.)

Earlier today, he reminded me that neither of us were scheduled on Friday or Saturday, and he asked me if I wanted to do a movie night. I agreed, and asked him if he wanted to watch anything in particular. (This is more of a pleasantry. He usually never suggests anything specific when I ask this.)

Surprisingly, he said that he did have a movie in mind! Unfortunately, the movie he had in mind was the 2009 movie, Avatar. The one with the blue people.

After he said this to me, I laughed at him, because no one actually LIKES that movie. The best anyone can say is that it’s visually appealing! The plot is drawn out, bland, and not worth nearly three hours of my time. I asked him if he was serious about wanting to watch it, because I never took him for the type to enjoy something so dull.

He frowned at me and said that he'd watched it a few times with his ex-girlfriend when they were still dating, and that he’d really liked it… and not just for the visual aspect? He said that he wanted to watch it with me too. He continued to justify it by bringing up the fact that I like other sci-fi movies and shows, and that he didn’t see how this was any different from those.

I told him that it was different because there was no reason for a movie to go for so LONG and to give so LITTLE, and he started whining about the first Lord of the Rings movie (which we’d watched a few months ago) and how it was longer than Avatar.

I told him that there was a HUGE difference: LotR is actually good! This only seemed to upset him more. He scoffed at me, saying that I couldn’t see a good movie if it was right in front of me. He said this jokingly, but I could tell he was upset. I glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

After a few seconds of tense silence, he asked AGAIN if we could watch it on Friday, because I’m the one who always picks the movies, and that it was unfair that he never got to pick any. I told him no, because Avatar is an awful film, and that he was really stupid for liking it.

I don’t think I’m wrong for telling him that Avatar sucks, considering it’s common knowledge, but calling him stupid might’ve crossed the line for him. I’m pretty sure that this comment is what made him mad, because it sparked a bigger argument, which eventually led to him sleeping on the couch for the night. I’ve called him stupid in other situations before, so I’m not sure why he’s making such a big deal about it now.

I don’t think I’m the asshole… If I am, I’m definitely justified. The only reason I’m asking is because a close friend of mine (28X) said that I was too harsh about it, so now I'm second-guessing myself. AITA for telling my coworker that he’s stupid for liking an objectively TERRIBLE film?

[wonryllis]

★ ENHYPEN WHEN THEIR S/O DOES A MATURE DANCE COVER.

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝗎𝗍.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen hooked on the way you move. fem!r. fluff, tad bit suggestive. wordcount` 1427. requested. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

heeseung's on his phone, scrolling through tik tok trends when you walk out of the room all dressed like you're about to go out to the gym. high waist yoga pants and a crop top to match. heeseung so loves it when you wear them, they hug your curves just right and he can caress your tummy when he goes in for a hug.

"are you going to the—" his words die down in an instant as you set up your phone camera and ring light. she's filming something!, he thinks all excited to see which trend you decided to do. and it's all innocent with a little bit of sus moves here and there until there's a switch in the song and you get down to the floor for it. heeseung contemplates whether he should record it or he should just focus on taking the view all in.

though ultimately it's over before he even realizes it, so focused he didn't notice you're already done. immediately rushing to backhug you, unaware the camera's still recordeding and it's captured the sweet little moment where he nuzzles his head into your neck and mumbles out a soft,"why are you so hot?" in butterfly kisses that the viewers can't get enough of once you upload the video.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

it's just a normal day for jay. looking through the files on your computer to find your vacation videos from last year, the reason.. it's a secret. a little surprise he's preparing for your birthday. however this certain file with the familiar song name and you on the thumbnail in a rather compromising position gives him the surprise of his day.

can he see it? was he supposed to see it? is he allowed to? is he prepared to? oh man jay has no idea but what he knows for sure is, he is seeing it. and oh boy is he seeing it. the amount of times he replays it, he has lost count of it. each time finding a new move he thinks is way too hot. and wondering of where and how you learnt it and why the hell hasn't he been told about it already?

"jay babe, i'm back!" the moment he hears you walk through the door he's bombarding you with questions, the thought of his own surprise slipping out somewhere in the gutter. "do it again for me, please?" he begs, so wanting to see it real time and find out just much hotter you can be.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

if he's actually seeing it right or he's dreaming, jake doesn't know it but for sure he knows he's drooling. mouth slack open with occasional lip bites when you move your hips just the way he likes it. and he didn't know how much he liked it until he saw it today, and to be more precise until ten minutes ago.

he's in awe, like oh my god that is my girl? and then a few seconds later, only my girl can do it so well! and then a few seconds later, oh god how can my girl be so perfect? like he's literally so geniune and so in love, anything you do he's lovestruck. he's babbling in his mind the entire time he's watching you practice.

"shit princess, you looked so amazing," jake walks over to you in quick steps the moment he notices you taking a break. telling you about how you rocked certain moves and how he loved the way you moved your body to the music and how he was mesmerized to the point of being tongue-tied. so many over the top compliments but the way his eyes sparkled gave away just how sincere he was, he was fascinated both at how good and how hot you were.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

for sunghoon putting things away around the kitchen and pantry was the second best part about grocery shopping with you. so obviously he was crest fallen when you left him alone in the middle of it. wondering about what was so important for you to do that to him.

however you return in a few minutes and he forgets all about his sadness the moment you drag him to the couch to show him a little something you specially prepared for him. oh! for me? hehe, the grin on his face is wider than anything and everything watching you dance, eyes zeroing in on the way you move for him. for him, the most important part.

it's all well until you get down on your knees for a certain part and sunghoon feels all his senses kicking in as he immediately shoots up to pick you like a doll and get you into the bedroom,"my god baby! you can't just do that with the curtains open?!" so panicked over the fact that someone would see what's only for him to see. and wondering where you learnt all that from.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

you better believe he finds it first and then begs you to learn it, even going as far as learning it first and then teaching it to you himself. holding and caressing and taking advantage of the situation to feel you up. he's elated that you agreed to learn it and over the moon that you decided to learn it from him.

"mhm yes love go! that's right! love the way you move there!" he records it for you without even you having to ask him. and he's posting it the next day because like there's no way you do it so well and people don't know about it. sunoo is so happy to have you dance to it just how it makes it look fantastic and perfect.

"babe, everyone's loving it! too bad you're only mine," and he's so happy to share with everyone just how amazing you are. there are certain comments that make him regret it a tad bit though, thinking of gatekeeping all future videos like these.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

"baby baby baby, help me film this!" your cute little pouts melt jungwon and he folds without even asking of what you want him to help film. helping you is jungwon's favorite thing in the world, and no matter how many times he scolds you for pranking him with the said excuse, he just gives in when you give him the puppy eyes.

with your outfit and your makeup, just how pretty you're dolled up, jungwon knows it's not gonna be a prank and for that he heaves a sigh of relief. but it's not long before his stress comes back, hands immediately throwing away the phone to the couch when you get on the floor and start with that certain hip move that tingle his heart rates.

"babyy! w- what, you can't do that, no! i ain't letting you post that!" he scolds, all flustered when you whine at him for stopping. it takes a great deal of convincing to persuade him to continue recording and the condition is that you'll keep it in your drafts forever. him being the only one who knows of it.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

he has no idea how much he needed you to ask him to correct your moves until you do it. if there's a phrase that could describe how he feels right now, it would be in the clouds. the moment you come up to him and tell him to watch you and correct you if you do it wrong, it's the start of an episode riki will remember for forever.

"no baby, you do it this way," he touches your arms, legs, hands, thighs, neck, shoulder, and everywhere to put you in the correct form. having you go over it again and again, and you don't question it because he's experienced and he knows best, right?

"do it again," intentionally telling you to repeat any move he liked too much just to see you doing it repeatedly to fulfill his own desire. it's not like you'll know anyway and it's only gonna help you get better. that's what he keeps saying to himself. knowing it's not entirely true with how his eyes look at you. and how his hands stay on you a little longer than necessary.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @snoopypupp @kissestoenha

[chososdiscordkitten]

How jjk men peel your oranges!

Choso, Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Gojo nd Hiromi

tw: None! one link in hiromi's lol

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Choso Kamo

He would peel it for you without hesitation or question. Say you were watching a movie with him on the couch, seeing the main character munch on some delicious looking orange slices. Mouth watering by just looking at them.

All you had to mumble was a quiet, “God, I wish I had an orange right now.” to yourself as he tried to remember if there were any oranges in the kitchen before he stood up. Placing a napkin on the coffee table as he peeled it, trying his best to not make a mess. Plucking a slice from it and handing it to you, “Thank youu-” you hummed, earning a small ‘mhm’ from him.

Leaning your head on his shoulder before he continued to peel off the rest of it. When he finished peeling it, he'd try to pluck the little white bits off of it too. Just to make sure you had the best parts.

Not even asking if you wanted him to bring you one, or asking if you wanted him to peel it. He just did it for you. Choso, my beautiful, 'I show my love in acts of service' bf

Toji Zenin

Hesitatingly he would. Having lunch with him between his jobs, you were talking about something that had happened earlier that day.

Peeling the orange in your own hands, really just taking small pieces off one by one. His eyes kept flashing down to your hands, getting more and more irked by how poorly you were peeling it.

“And I told him-” you were interrupted, he took the sadly peeled orange from your hands with small grumbles.

“Just makin’ a mess-” he huffed, peeling it carefully in his calloused hands as you watched with furrowed eyebrows. He peeled it in the way to form a spiral, trying to avoid the places you had already peeled.

You tried to tell him it was fine- that you could do it. “The things I do for you.” he mumbled in a stern tone, almost cursing himself for what he was doing.

When the orange was bare, he parted the slices for you, placing them on the napkin you had laid out that did a poor job at containing the mess you were making. Taking one for himself to reward his efforts. 

Sukuna

No. “You're more than capable of peeling it yourself. You're not special.”

Kento Nanami

Would peel it flawlessly, no white parts left on it. You were sitting on his living room couch trying to finish a proposal for your job, legs taking up most of the couch, rubbing your forehead in frustration.

Nanami saw how upset you looked, and thought of a way to make you feel even a little better. Standing in the kitchen as he peeled two oranges for you, humming a small tune as he gathered all the rinds before tossing them in the trash.

Placing the perfect film-like slices into a small bowl and pouring a glass of water before walking back to the couch.

“Here.” he hummed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His heart clenched when you looked at him with tired eyes.

“Awe, thank you Kento-” you cooed, taking the bowl in your hands. Seeing him place the glass of water on the coffee table before lifting your legs from the couch, sitting down and placing them back on his lap.

One hand rubbing your shin lovingly as he picked up the book on the side table, prying it open before reading. 

Suguru Geto

Would ask you if you wanted him to peel it for you. Eating lunch with him, “I brought you something-” he smiled, his tone warm. Hearing a curious hum come from you, “Remember you told me you hadn't had an orange in a while?” before presenting the fruit to you.

A small gasp left you, smiling before reaching to take it. “Thank you Sugu-” you started, seeing him pull his hand back.

“You don't want me to peel it for you?” he asked, tone serious as though that was the only reason he brought it to you.

“If you want to-” you started, seeing him scoff before taking the small knife on the table and starting to peel it slowly. “So fancy.” you commented, seeing him focus on not tearing the spiral forming from the rind.

“I hate getting the rind under my nails.” he mumbled, focusing on the small fruit in his hands.

“And that's why I haven't eaten one in so long.” you laughed. He tried his best to cut off only the rind- but a few pieces of the orange ended up being taken off. He split it in half before handing you the bigger slices. 

Satoru Gojo

Would peel it in a way that made you regret even bringing up oranges. Walking around the school's campus, hearing him talk about how much potential his students had.

Seeing you fiddle with the small orange in your hands, “You gonna eat that or?” he smiled, pulling you out of your own thoughts. You furrowed your eyebrows looking at him, before you realized what he was talking about.

“Oh- I was waiting till I found a napkin. Don't wanna make a mess.” you hummed, his face lit up. Taking it from your hands and smiling/

“This is one of my best tricks-” he giggled, holding the orange between his palms.

“You should let other people tell you they're the best.” you joked, seeing him clap his palms together. Face falling when you realized he warped your orange.

You didn't speak to him till he presented you with a perfectly peeled one, “It doesn't even have the white stuff on it!” he defended, trying to convince you to forgive him.

Pouting as he watched you eat it. “I can’t even have one slice?” he whined, seeing you purposefully make the orange look like it was the most delicious thing you've ever eaten.

“You don't even deserve the rind.” You hummed, seeing him slump in his seat.

Hiromi Higuruma

Would peel it, but in an inconvenient way. Would be having breakfast with you, seeing an unsliced orange next to your plate. Taking it in his hands and looking at you with a stoic face.

“When I was a kid-” he started, peeling the orange tactfully. Watching his hands as you blinked at him. All ears, thinking this was going to be some kind of serious talk.

“I could never figure out how to peel an orange properly.” he scoffed, trying to hold in a hearty laugh. Seeing your eyebrows furrowed almost asking where this was going. “And one day, my father-” he smiled, looking at you with soft eyes.

“-taught me how to peel one, but he said I could only peel them this way for one person.” his fingers ripping the rind and placing the small bits on his plate. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the small peel in his hands.

“I didn't understand why-” placing the peeled orange on your plate, “Till he told me that the way into a person's heart- is through laughter.” he finished, looking at you with a strained expression trying not to let out a laugh.

There on your plate, a little orange man staring at you. You gave him a defeated laugh you tried to hold in. In the end he only made a mess, and made the orange warm from how much he molded it in his hands. But the gesture was sweet.

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I had so much fun writing this lol. sum short nd sweet. I keep seeing this topic all over twt so here's my two cents.

[gothcsz]

Body Language | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 2 to this bad boy right here | ~8.2k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Caught in a charged and unexpected moment with Javier Peña, you struggle between resisting his relentless seduction and giving in to the tension that has been building since the last shoot.

Tags: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, no use of Y/N, reader is shorter than javier but other than that no physical descriptions, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (we're in an elevator this time around), reader really doesn't like javi, steve being steve, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: this was supposed to be a short lil thing but then my ass had to drag it out just a little because their dynamic is very fun to write 😭 he's like whyyy don't you like me and she's like how much time do you have? lmfao. this is dedicated to @auteurdelabre 🖤 #1 pornstar javi stan, i almost submitted this for your trope off but decided to save that honor for my other story! anyways, i hope you guys enjoy javier begging to eat you out 🥂 let me know what you think 🖤 mandatory mutual tags: @almostempty / @miss-oranje-disco-dancer

You sit in the cramped waiting room outside of Robbie’s office, the stale air clinging to your skin as you shift uncomfortably in the worn-out chair. The place is too quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the city outdoors.

You glance at the clock on the wall, anxiety creeping up your spine. You have a shift at the bar in an hour, and time is slipping through your fingers. The laundry, the groceries, the endless list of errands— it all piled up today, and now you’re cutting it too close.

But you need this check. It’s the only reason you’re here, tapping your foot in impatience. If you don’t get it today, the money won’t hit your account in time to cover rent, and you really don’t want another lecture from your landlord. It’s bad enough you’re already behind— no need to give him more ammunition to chew you out.

You sigh and lean back, eyes closing as you try to drown out the frustration swirling in your head. That’s when you hear the unmistakable ding of the elevator down the hall and turn your head to see who’s joining.

Your stomach drops and you sit up straight. No. Not now. The air feels heavier, thick with that familiar irritation, as the slow, deliberate sound of boots against the tile grows louder. 

Javier Peña.

Just the thought of him sends a hot wave through your being, a mix of irritation and something else you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t want to think about that last shoot, the one where things shifted. Where shit got weird. You behind the camera, filming as always, while he was balls deep in another woman, claiming you were on his mind.

“Bet you’d look just as pretty like this, nena.”

“Did you like what you saw? Like watching the way I fucked her but was thinking of you the whole time?”

It was like he’d stripped you bare with just a few words, leaving you more exposed than them in the midst of their carnal fucking. And the worst part? You’d been affected by it. Skin on fire, pussy wet. It also didn’t help that Steve had heard it too. The mic catching the flirting, the hitch of your breath getting stuck in your throat, clear as day.

He’d asked you about it later at Lucky’s, as promised, all smug and drinking that God-awful beer. But you’d brushed him off, hoping he’d drop it. Thankfully, he had— for the most part— but you could still feel his restlessness, wanting to stir the pot.

Now, Javier is here, of course, because the universe just loves to mess with you. You roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning back against the chair in defiance. You refuse to look at him. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he gets under your skin. 

His footsteps stop just a few feet away, the weight of his presence impossible to ignore. You can feel him looking at you, feel the weight of his brown eyes like a physical thing as they rake over your body.

You keep your gaze glued to the wall, focusing on the ugly, generic painting hanging there like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You gonna act like you don’t see me?” His voice is deep, smooth, and frustratingly cocky, just like always. 

You grit your teeth, biting back a response. You won’t give him an inch. Not again. This motherfucker will take a mile.

“Okay, so that’s what we’re doing.” Before you can react, he plops down beside you. You stiffen immediately, moving your crossed knees to the side, angling yourself away from him, as if the few inches of space will protect you from the onslaught of whatever the hell he’s about to say next.

He spreads his thighs wide, his posture screaming obnoxious confidence. You just barely catch a glimpse of his bulge pressing up against his left thigh and how the fuck does it look so big even when he’s soft? “You know,” he says, voice dripping with that lazy, arrogant drawl, “you’re the only woman that treats me like this, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”

You snort, the sound sharp and humorless. You still don’t bother looking at him.

Javier frowns, flitting his tongue across the top row of his teeth. “Is it because I came off too strong the first time we met? ‘Cause if that’s the case; then I’m sorry. Can’t help myself from flirting with pretty little things like you.”

You roll your eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets. He doesn’t sound sincere at all.

Thing is, you didn’t mind the flirting. Even if he, like he’s so romantically put it, does flirt with pretty little things all the time; it did make you feel like just that. Pretty. It’s what came after that soured your Javier Peña experience.

He huffs, like a petulant child, frustrated by your silence. You don’t give him the satisfaction of even a glance. Instead, you shift in your seat, your mind racing, wondering what the hell is taking Robbie so damn long. He never works, barely lifts a finger unless there’s money or something else in it for him, and now, suddenly, he’s busy? Yeah, right. He’s probably in his office jerking it to one of his films, getting off on his own work. Typical.

You’re done waiting. With a sharp movement, you stand, startling Javier, though you still don’t give him the time of day. He’s used to women catering to his every whim, hanging on his every word. You aren’t going to be one of them. Not even if he did manage to get you all hot and bothered.

You stalk over to the door and knock harder than necessary. “I’m busy,” his voice grumbles through the wooden surface, and you resist the urge to scream.

“And I need my check. Just slide it under the door or something,” you snap, the urgency in your voice making it clear that you’re not in the mood to get fucked around with.

There’s a pause, followed by the sound of shuffling papers before the door cracks open just enough for Robbie to stick his hand out, an envelope clutched between his fingers. He practically shoves it into your hand before slamming the door shut again.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the envelope with your name scrawled across the front. Surrounded by imbeciles. Just one shift to get through tonight, and then maybe, just maybe, you can get some peace. Enjoy the first weekend off you’ve had in months.

Now that you have what you came for, you spin on your heel and stride down the hallway, ignoring the handsome pornstar still lounging in the chair behind you. From your peripheral, you can see him sitting there, skinny jean clad legs spread, looking all annoyingly sexy without even trying. It would be so much easier if he were ugly— or literally anyone else. But no, it’s Javier fucking Peña, with his ridiculous good looks and that cocky smirk that could probably charm the panties off half the city if he wanted to (it probably has, to be honest).

You mentally map out the next hour: hit the bank, dash home to change, then off to work. You could walk to the bank, maybe catch a taxi home if you’re lucky. But with traffic in this city, luck isn’t really on your side. You start considering your options— do you skip changing and just head to work as you are? Would your other boss even care if you showed up a little underdressed? You’re so lost in your thoughts, focused on cutting corners to save time, that you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you.

It’s not until the elevator dings and you step inside that you realize you’re not alone. Javier’s slipped in just before the doors close, sliding smoothly into the cramped space beside you. The sudden proximity makes your heart do this stupid little jump, and you curse yourself for it. You’re trapped now— stuck way too close to him in the tiny metal box.

The air feels charged, his presence impossible to ignore yet again. The smell of his aftershave hits you first— spicy, with a hint of something woodsy, layered under the scent of his leather jacket and the faint, lingering whiff of cigarette smoke. He tries to drown it out with minty gum, but it’s still there, clinging to him like an old habit. And damn it, your knees go a little weak, despite your best efforts to stay cool.

The height difference between you is glaringly obvious now. You’re eye level with the habitually open portion of his cream colored shirt, the buttons undone just enough to give a peek at his brown chest. It’s frustrating how effortlessly he pulls off the whole rugged look— like he doesn’t even try, but somehow manages to look better than most men who spend hours on it.

You swallow hard, trying to focus on anything but the fact that you can smell him, that you can feel the heat radiating off his body in the tight space. He’s just too close, and the damn elevator isn’t moving fast enough. You’ve got a million things to worry about right now—rent, work, your life— and the last thing you need is to be distracted by him.

But, like always, he’s right there, invading your space, making it impossible to think of anything else.

“What the fuck do you want?” You snap, breaking your vow of silence. You frown up at him, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface as you cross your arms defensively over your chest— a bad move, you realize too late, as the motion only pushes your braless tits together beneath the thin fabric of your tank top.

Predictably, his eyes drop immediately. You curse yourself for not wearing something more substantial. It’s not like I was planning to run into him today, you think to yourself.

“To understand why you hate me so much,” Javier says, his voice low, carrying that annoyingly casual tone, as if this whole conversation is nothing more than a mild inconvenience to him.

Your brows knit together, and a dry laugh slips from your lips before you can stop it. “Well, for starters,” you bite out, “you can’t even look me in the eyes when you ask.” 

His gaze snaps up so fast it’s almost comical, his dark eyes locking with yours, defiance flaring there. But there’s something else too— something that makes the air between you even more tense. You hold his stare, daring him to say something, to make this worse for himself. His expression tightens, but you continue before he has a chance to speak. “And I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you. You annoy the shit out of me.” 

He flinches, just barely, but you catch it. The smallest chink in his armor. You reach around him, your hand brushing against his side as you press the button for the main floor. The contact sends a ripple of awareness through you that you try to ignore. You don’t have time for this— for him.

Javier scowls, his mouth pulling into a frown that mirrors yours, and before you can react, he half-turns and punches a button for a different floor, effectively canceling your request. The elevator jolts, shifting direction. 

You groan audibly, exasperation washing over you. “And here you are, proving my point,” you mutter under your breath. Every second you waste in this shitty elevator with him is another second closer to being late for work. Another second closer to not getting everything done that you needed to today. He’s not just in your way—he’s deliberately in your way, and the worst part is, he knows it.

“You don’t like me,” he counters, turning back to face you fully, his tone edging into frustration, “but you never even gave me a chance.” His jaw is set now, his eyes searching yours as if he’s waiting for you to crack, to admit that there’s more to it than just annoyance. Like he wants you to say it’s something else, something deeper.

If you had the luxury of time, you’d lay it all out for him, explain in excruciating detail just why you’ve avoided giving him that chance. How his arrogance grates on you. How his charm, though admittedly effective, feels hollow. How the way he flirts isn’t even the problem—it’s the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t want to admit.

But you don’t have that kind of time.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. “As fun as it’d be to stand here and explain this shit to you like a child,” you say, your voice tight, “I have important things to do, and you’re keeping me from them.” You jab the elevator button again, hoping the damn thing will just go where you need it to without another unnecessary detour, but you already know it’s a losing battle. 

Javier shifts closer, just slightly, his presence looming. You can smell that damn aftershave again, all spice and leather and smoke, and it only pisses you off more because your body reacts to it before your brain can stop it. You feel your resolve slipping, just a little. His eyes are on you, unwavering, intense in a way that makes you want to both slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“I’m not trying to keep you from anything,” he replies, softer now, the edge in his voice gone. His tone is almost... apologetic? No. It can’t be. Javier Peña doesn’t apologize. At least not in any way that feels real.

You don’t even bother responding, just stare at the numbers above the door, willing them to move faster. The sooner you’re out of here, the better.

“Just—fuck, give me something. Anything,” he growls, frustrated as all hell. His eyes are wild, and you can see the cracks in his usual suave demeanor, like he’s barely holding it together. “Ever since that last shoot, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head, and I don’t know why. You think you’re exasperated? How the fuck do you think I’m feeling over here?”

You raise a brow, leaning into your disdain as you pout at him mockingly. “Oh, boohoo. Cry me a river. A girl doesn’t like me back, wahh.” You mimic the sound of a crying baby, bringing your fists up to rub against your cheeks in the most exaggerated way possible. Then you drop the act, face deadpanning. 

His eyes narrow, and you think you’ve finally hit a nerve. Good. Let him stew in it. But instead of backing down, he does something you don’t expect— he turns, reaches out, and slams his palm against the emergency stop button. The elevator lurches to a sudden halt, the hum of motion disappearing as the car freezes between floors.

Your eyes widen, a sharp spike of adrenaline shooting through you as the reality of the situation sets in. “What the hell, Javier?” You’re about to cuss him out, to let him know exactly what kind of shit he’s just gotten himself into, but before the words can leave your mouth, he takes two long, purposeful steps toward you.

Instinctively, you move back, the sudden intensity in his eyes sending warning signals through your brain. But there’s nowhere to go. You can’t escape the tight confines of the elevator, your back is pressed up against the cold metal railing. You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as his broad body looms over yours, trapping you in a way that leaves you feeling both furious and breathless.

He’s too close. His chest brushes against yours, and you can feel his gaze as it drags over your face, down your neck, and lower still, lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle.

Any insult you were ready to hurl at him gets stuck in your throat. You hate how your pulse quickens, how your breath catches. You can feel every inch of him— solid muscle, tense with whatever storm is brewing behind those dark eyes. 

For a brief, dizzying moment, you forget to be mad. You forget that you’re supposed to dislike him, that he’s the last person you should let get under your skin like this but somehow is the only one who’s able to. All you can focus on is the way his breath fans across your cheek, the way the small space between you crackles with tension, like a wire pulled too tight.

“You think this is some kind of joke?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, making your pussy tingle in ways you wish it didn’t. “You think it’s easy for me to just... shrug it off? Because it’s not. Not when I keep thinking about you, and I don’t even fucking understand why.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something that catches you off guard, making you pause to wonder if this really isn’t a game to him.

But you can’t let him see that. You can’t let him know how much he’s getting to you (even though he’s more than aware). So instead, you tilt your chin up defiantly, forcing your voice to stay steady. “And stopping the elevator? Trapping me in here with you? That’s your brilliant solution?”

“No,” he breathes, voice dropping to a near whisper as his face inches closer to yours. “But it’s the only way I could get you to stop running from me.” 

You hate how your stomach flips at his words. Hate how much you’re fighting against the instinct to lean into him instead of shoving him away. Every part of your body is screaming at you to tell him to fuck off and leave you the hell alone.

“Do you know what I think it is?” The words come out in a low, dangerous drawl, the kind that seems to wrap around your throat and squeeze. He leans in, crowding your space, eyes boring into you with an intensity that has your pulse skyrocketing. “I think you’re too fucking stubborn to let yourself have any fun. The idea of me fucking you is enticing, isn’t it?” His lips curl into a smirk, the kind that drips with arrogance and dark promises. “Could see it written all over your face that night at the hotel. That look in your eye while I was fucking Lexxie.”

His accusations slam into you, pulling up the exact moment you’ve been trying to bury. It should have been a professional gig, routine even, nothing personal… except that wasn’t the case. Not with the way he looked at you the entire time, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to react.

And, fuck, you had reacted. You felt the heat rise in your face, the way your body betrayed you as you stood behind the camera, mouth salivating, thighs pressing together.

“Javier…” You push at his chest, your hand meeting the hard wall of muscle beneath his shirt. The intent is to shove him back, to create some space between you. But the second your palm makes contact, it’s like the air shifts, and instead of moving him, it’s like you’ve anchored yourself to him.

Goddamn him. Goddamn you for your spineless ass, for not being able to follow through on resisting the temptation that he is.

He smirks wider, clearly reading the war going on behind your eyes. “You were shaking,” he continues, his voice a dark whisper that coils around your insides. “Damn near moaning while you watched me go down on her. Rubbing those thighs together while this pretty ass was in my face as she was sucking my cock.” 

His large hand snakes around you, catching you off guard, fingers gripping a handful of your ass and pulling you closer. Your body collides with his, and that’s when you feel it— his erection, hard and insistent, pressing into your stomach. The heat between you flares up to unbearable levels, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, every nerve ending in your body on high alert, buzzing with want.

“You’re delusional,” it’s breathless but you’re still determined to keep some semblance of control. You squirm in his grip, your body betraying your words, the friction making your mind tilt. “You just can’t stand the fact that, for once, a woman isn’t throwing herself at you. That I’m not kissing the ground you walk on or falling to my knees, ready to suck you off.”

His hold tightens briefly, pulling you even closer, and for a second, you wonder if you’ll be able to break free at all. It’s damn near impossible to ignore the ache building between your thighs at this point. But somehow, you manage to slip out of his grip, your body twisting away from his until you’ve backed yourself into the far corner of the elevator. 

You can’t breathe. Not properly, anyway. You’ve never felt so on edge, so exposed in such a small space. Every fiber of your being screams at you to keep your distance, to reassert control of the situation, but there’s a part of you— dangerous and impulsive— that wants to step right back into his arms.

Javier doesn’t move, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching your every movement like a predator stalking its prey. The elevator is still locked in place, a silent reminder that you’re trapped here with him until one of you decides to relent. His jaw clenches, and you think he’s going to say something cutting, something to tear you down. But instead, he surprises you.

“You’re right.” His voice is rough, but it carries a weight that’s different from the cocky arrogance he usually hides behind. “I can’t stand it.”

His words hang in the air between you, heavier than you expected. There’s no smirk this time, no sarcastic bite. Just honesty, and it’s a fucking curveball.

You weren’t prepared for him to actually admit it. For once, he’s not trying to fuck with you, not trying to win.

And somehow, that makes it worse.

You swallow hard, the weight of his confession making your heart leap out of your chest.

You don’t know what to say, so instead, you just stand there, staring at him, your body buzzing with a cocktail of adrenaline, lust, and confusion. Because as much as you want to dislike him, as much as you need to dislike him for your own sanity, you can’t deny the way your pussy responds to him. The way your mind keeps pulling you back to that night, to the way he made you feel without even touching you.

“Get over it,” you snap, cutting him off before he can sink any deeper into this conversation. You don’t need to entertain this further. It can’t happen, and it will never happen. The second you fall into bed with him, it’ll be game over. Javier Peña isn’t just a casual fuck— you know deep down he’d be the kind that wraps himself around your soul and doesn’t let go until he’s consumed every inch of you. 

The problem is, you’re terrified that you’ll let him. It’s why you’re so dead set on not giving in.

You cross your arms over your chest again, as if trying to shield yourself from the strength in his eyes, the way he seems to reach into your very core with just a look.

You try to focus on anything else— on the fact that you still need to get to the bank, then to your apartment, and finally to your bar shift. You don’t have time for this shit, for the endless back-and-forth with him.

But then he says your name.

The sound of it on his lips makes you close your eyes, every muscle in your body tensing. Damn him. It sounds so fucking sweet, almost reverent, and you know if you make the mistake of looking at him right now— if you see those beautiful, pleading brown eyes— you’ll fold.

He says your name again, softer this time, and the way his voice wraps around each syllable has your resolve teetering on the edge of collapse. “Please, just let me show you how good I can make you feel,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “Just one taste, nena, por favor.” 

And for the first time since you met Javier— he’s begging. You never imagined that he, of all people, would beg for anything. But here he is, his voice low and thick with desire, pleading with you to give him just one chance.

You blink your eyes open slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions that have been ignited by his words. The synapses in your brain light up like fucking fireworks, each one triggering a new thought, a new possibility. There’s a moment— a split second— where you picture it.

You imagine his hands on your body, his lips trailing fire down your skin, his mouth between your legs. The image flashes so vividly, so intensely in your mind, that it steals the breath from your lungs. 

You can practically feel the way he’d elicit things you’ve been trying to suppress. Your legs go weak just thinking about it, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to ground yourself, to remember who you are, what this is. 

But your cavewoman, horny brain betrays you— racing ahead, picturing every possible outcome. You can’t help but wonder how good it would feel to let him in, just once. How it would be to let him take control, to let him show you, like he’s promising, just how good he can make you feel. 

You’re already late getting to the bank. You should be focusing on that, on getting out of this damn elevator and away from him, but your body won’t cooperate. Every part of you is ablaze, screaming at you to just give in.

Javier’s standing there, staring at you with those chocolate eyes, his dark brows drawn together, pouty lips parted just slightly as he waits for you to say something. Anything. He’s laid it all out in front of you, leaving you to make the next move. And fuck, as much as you hate to admit it, you want to. You want to let him pull you into his world, even though you know it’ll consume you. You want to feel his hands on your skin, his mouth everywhere, his name slipping from your lips.

But you can’t. 

If you give in now, you’ll never be able to walk away from him, and you can’t afford to let yourself get tangled up in Javier Peña. He’s chaos wrapped in temptation, and once you let him in, there’s no turning back.

You swallow hard, your throat tight as you try to hold on to the last shred of control you have. “Javier,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. You feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, teetering between desire and self-preservation. The weight of his gaze presses down on you, and for a moment, you think you might just jump.

But then, with every ounce of willpower you have left, you take a shaky breath, shaking your head and breaking the spell he’s woven around you.

“No,” you say, the word barely above a whisper, but firm enough to anchor you back to reality.

His face falls, the fire in his eyes dimming just a little. You almost regret it, almost, but then you remember who he is. What he does. And you know you made the right choice, even if every part of you is berating otherwise.

You stand there, locked in a silent standoff, both of you doing a piss poor job of pretending like you don’t want to tear each other’s clothes off right here in the elevator. 

You’re hoping—no, praying— that he’ll finally let it go. That he’ll stop pushing, stop testing your resolve, and just leave you alone. You’re begging for him to go back to what he does best, to leave you to your job— both of them.

You break eye contact first, glancing down at your watch. You’re definitely not going to make it to your shift on time. Shit. You need to phone your boss and give him a heads up before this gets even worse. But right now, you can’t seem to focus, not with Javier standing there like a Roman statue, immovable and perfect, watching you with that infuriating intensity.

“Now, if you can get the elevator to take us down, I’d really appreciate it,” you say, but the words come out softer than you intended. You hate how small your voice sounds, like you’ve already lost the upper hand, and you mentally slap yourself for it. 

But he doesn’t budge. He just stands there, watching you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, and it makes you want to scream. His gaze is piercing, boring holes into your entire existence, and it’s taking everything you have not to crumble beneath it.

“Do you really mean that?” He asks as he brings a hand up to smooth down his mustache. There’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips, like he already knows the answer. “Because everything about your body language is screaming otherwise.” 

When the fuck did he get so close again? He’s right there, towering over you, and suddenly the air between you feels impossibly thin.

“It’s my fuckin’ job to read a woman’s body,” he continues, his voice growing huskier with each word. “And you know what yours is telling me right now?”

Your pulse quickens, your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you can’t find the words to respond. You don’t trust yourself to speak— not when his presence is drowning you in your own body. 

He leans in, lips so close to your ear that his breath almost has you fainting. “It’s telling me that you want it.”

Your stomach flips, every nerve ending in your body coming alive as his curved nose barely grazes your skin. The touch is featherlight, but it sends electricity straight to your cunt. You grip the railing behind you like a lifeline, your knuckles flushed as goosebumps ripple across your skin. 

Javier’s smirk deepens, the asshole clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. “Stop fighting it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, his hand sliding down the length of your figure in a way that feels too natural, too right. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel…”

You should stop him. You should. But you don’t. You can’t. His hands are on you now, moving with a confidence that’s impossible to resist. One large hand finds its way to your tit, groping it gently through the thin fabric of your tank top, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips before you can stop it. Your body fails you, head falling back against the elevator wall, your chest arching into his touch. 

The way his hand moves, so sure, so practiced, has your resistance crumbling, piece by piece. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your neck, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your sensitive skin. “Barely done a thing and you’re already gone.” 

Your mind is spinning, your resolve completely undone as you melt under his touch. Every kiss, every graze of his lips against your neck feels like it’s unraveling the last bit of control you have. His body is pressed up against yours, and you can feel his erection through his jeans again, the hard (pun intended) evidence of just how much he wants you.

God help you, it feels too good to resist.

You sigh, a low, breathy sound that’s equal parts surrender and relief. His lips trail lower, his hand still groping your breast, and you let him. You let him because you’ve been fighting this for too long, and right now, you just want to feel something. 

Javier grins against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he pulls you even closer, his voice hoarse in your ear. “Told you,” he says, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “I knew you wanted this.”

You don’t respond. There’s nothing left to say. You’ve given in, you’ll figure out how to pick up the pieces later, but right now? Right now, you’re letting yourself fall apart.

It’s like your whole body just deflates against his, sinking into the solid warmth of him as if all the fight has finally drained out of you. You’re giving him the green light, and he knows it. The grunt that escapes his throat is guttural, and you feel the weight of his palm pressing harder against your chest, his thumb and pointer finger expertly pinching your now hardened nipple through the fabric of your tank top.

“After this,” he murmurs, voice rough with restraint, “if you don’t want me anymore, I’ll leave you alone.” His words are punctuated by a sharp tug at your nipple that sends a surge of arousal straight between your legs. Then his hand moves, sliding up to cradle your jaw with a surprising gentleness. He tilts your head so that your eyes meet his, forcing you to look at him— forcing you to really see him. “You have my word.”

You search his eyes, not entirely sure what you’re looking for— honesty, maybe? A hint of something real beyond the heat of the moment? Whatever it is, you can’t find the words to respond, so you just nod weakly, your breath bated. 

Javier smiles at that, a slow, predatory grin, and he leans in as if to kiss you. But you stop him, your hand pressing against his sternum with just enough force to halt him in his tracks.

“No kissing,” you say, your voice more resolute than you feel. “You said one taste, so get to it.” You’re setting boundaries, trying to keep some semblance of control in this situation. No kissing, no fucking— just head. That’s all this will be. He’ll get a taste of you, and you’ll finally get a taste of what all the hype is about. Then it’ll be over, and you’ll go your separate ways. That’s the deal.

His frown deepens, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features, like he’s not used to anyone telling him no in any capacity. But it’s brief, because he’s not about to take the proverbial bone you’ve thrown him for granted. He agrees in his own way, pivoting without protest, his mouth returning to your neck like he’s already forgotten the attempt to kiss you.

Now that the rules are clear, you allow yourself to let your guard down— just a little. It’s not like your sex life has been riveting lately, and truth be told, you can’t even remember the last time a partner went down on you willingly. At least you’re getting something out of this fucked-up little arrangement, and for now, that’s enough. 

He kisses and licks a line down your throat, his stubble scraping deliciously against the sensitive flesh. You sigh, your breath hitching as you feel his hands roaming your body with a confidence that should piss you off but doesn’t. 

His rough palms map out your curves like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory. He’s groping, squeezing, learning you in a way that makes you feel like you’re his personal discovery. 

The warmth of his breath, the skill in his movements— it’s intoxicating. You can’t help but respond, your hips shifting, your body bending instinctively toward him when one hand slides up under your shirt, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast.

He’s good at this, you’ll give him that. Too damn good. It’s almost like he’s a fucking pornstar.

You hate that you’re enjoying it so much, hate that you’re already melting under his touch like some lovesick fool.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmurs against your skin, feeling the nerves radiating off of you. 

His touch lingers as he reaches the button on your denim shorts, undoing it with a flick of his fingers before pulling down the zipper, slow and deliberate.

“You and these damn shorts…” you hear him say, more to himself than to you. His voice is gruff, frustrated, like he’s been waging a silent battle against his own restraint. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down over your hips, watching as the fabric slides off your skin. You step out of them, standing there in nothing but your underwear, top and sneakers, exposed in ways you hadn’t intended to be when you walked into that office earlier today.

His brows shoot up, and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Of course, it’s laundry day. Of course, you’re left wearing your least practical pair of underwear— this skimpy, lacy purple number you hardly ever break out. The delicate string disappears between the cheeks of your ass, and the sheer front does little to conceal the soft tuft of hair just below your navel. 

And he’s drinking it all in.

“Fuckin’ hell, nena,” he breathes, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and lust. His eyes flick back up to yours, dark and hungry. “You always walkin’ around like this?” His hands grip your hips, and before you can even formulate a response, he’s sinking to his knees in front of you, taking his sweet ass time, like this is some kind of worship.

“No, I—” Your voice is breathy, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. “I had to do laundry today…” It’s all you can manage, barely coherent as his lips begin pressing soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your knee.

He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, steadying you, his fingers gripping your thigh with enough pressure to leave you keening. You brace yourself against the elevator railing, your body tense with anticipation, your mind a chaotic swirl of logic and lust. You barely notice as the check you came here for flutters to the floor beside you, forgotten.

Don’t forget to deposit that, the reasonable part of your brain chimes in, but you tell that bitch to shut up because Javier Peña is currently on his knees in font of you, about to take you on the ride of your fucking life, and you’re nowhere near strapped in.

His head is tilted up, lips brushing dangerously close to where you want him most, and all rational thought is slipping through your fingers like sand.

He looks up at you then, his dark eyes glinting with something wicked, and your breath catches again. You don’t know how to feel about any of this anymore. There’s a line you swore you wouldn’t cross, but now that he’s right there, so close to giving you what you’ve craved for longer than you care to admit, it’s hard to remember why you drew that line in the first place.

Javier’s lips graze the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and a quiet moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. He smirks against your skin, his fingers tracing a slow path up your leg, sending shivers coursing through you. “Relax, bonita,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “I’ll take care of you.”

You want to tell him to hurry up, to stop teasing, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale as his hands part your thighs wider, positioning you exactly how he wants you. His grip is firm, possessive, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ll survive whatever it is he’s about to do to you.

You don’t even have time to dwell on the thought before his mouth is on you, lips pressing a lingering kiss over the thin fabric of your panties. The sudden pressure sends a shockwave through your body, and your eyes fall closed, surrendering to the moment. His tongue teases the fabric, nudging against your already soaked cunt, and you can feel the wetness seeping through the lace. He hums low in his throat, savoring the first taste of you.

“These are so pretty. Don’t think I’ll take ’em off.”

He hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric and pulls it aside, exposing you to him completely. The cool air hits your slick folds, a contrast to the heat of his breath as he hovers just inches away. He’s staring, taking you in, and when he curses under his breath, it’s like he’s caught off guard by how badly he wants this. Wants you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, as he drags his nose up and down the length of your wet slit. The touch is maddeningly light, just enough to make you clench involuntarily, your body reacting without permission. More of your slick leaks out of your pussy, a response to the subtle stimulation, and you grip the elevator railing tighter to keep yourself from falling with how weak your knees get.

Javier flattens his tongue, delivering a slow, deliberate lick from your entrance to your clit, and it’s like your entire body ignites at once. You throw your head back, a ragged cry of his name ripping from your throat as your hips buck instinctively, searching for more of him, more of that friction that feels like pure electricity.

He’s not done, though. Not even close. One hand snakes around your thighs, strong and sure. His middle and pointer fingers spread you open, forming an upside-down V, and then he does something so filthy, so perfectly Javier— he spits directly onto your exposed pussy.

The sound alone could get you off, but the sensation is something else entirely. His saliva mixes with your slick, making everything wetter, hotter, and you feel like you’re unraveling before he’s even truly begun. A series of high-pitched moans spill from your lips as he latches his mouth onto your cunt, sucking and licking with a precision that has your entire being quaking.

Lips, tongue, teeth—he’s using everything he has, dragging you deeper into a haze of pleasure where nothing exists but the heat coiling in your belly, tightening with every flick. He’s devouring you, utterly relentless, and it’s too much but not enough, all at once. Every nerve ending is on fire, your thighs trembling as you fight to keep your balance. His grip on your leg tightens, keeping you locked in place, helpless to do anything but take what he’s giving.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, pulling back for just a moment, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh. His face is glistening, covered in your arousal, but his eyes are dark and hungry, never straying from your face. “With noises like that and a pussy this pretty— you’d be a fucking sight on camera.”

His words send another jolt through you, dirty and wrong and so fucking hot that you nearly forget how to breathe. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, leaving faint marks in his wake, before diving back in with that skilled tongue of his. He’s a man with something to prove, alternating between broad strokes and tight circles, zeroing in on your fleshy clit with a precision that makes your head spin.

It’s obscene, the way he’s working you over, all these years spent perfecting this art, but there’s a rawness to it too, a desperation like he can’t get enough of you. You’re soaked, dripping onto his face, and he laps it up like a man starved, the sounds of his mouth slurping against your wetness filling the small space around you. Your moans are louder now, more desperate, each one pushing you closer to that edge where you’re not sure if you’ll survive the fall.

His fingers tighten on your thigh again, and then he’s dragging them lower, inching toward your entrance as his tongue flicks mercilessly against your clit. When he slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you nearly scream. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is enough to send you spiraling, your legs trembling uncontrollably as you arch into him.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts when he pulls away to get a good look at your beautiful face and how you look when he’s making you feel like you’re on top of the world. It’s enough to get him to latch onto your clit, sucking on it harshly.

“God, Javier,” you gasp, your voice shaky, barely coherent. You can’t think, can’t form any rational thought, not with the way he’s pulling you apart, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the pleasure.

“Let go,” he growls against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves through your core. “I’ve got you, nena. Just let go.” 

And with that, the dam breaks. You’re coming hard, hips jerking wildly as waves of pleasure crash over you, your entire body shaking with the force of it. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up for a second, working you through it with that relentless mouth until you’re gasping for air, hands clenching at the railing so hard you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped. 

Your vision blurs, your mind goes blank, and all you can do is hold on as Javier takes you on the ride of your life, just like you knew he would.

You don’t know how long it takes you to come back into your body after letting him take the reins for a little. You’re trembling, legs weak and body heavy against the cool metal wall of the elevator. He’s still on his knees, knuckle-deep inside you, lazily curling them as if savoring every last second.

His mouth trails soft, teasing kisses across your soaked panties, and the tenderness of the act startles you, nearly pulling you under again. But then he withdraws his fingers, slipping them into his mouth with an almost obscene groan, tasting you one last time as if to commit your flavor to memory. He carefully adjusts your underwear back into place.

Javier stands to his full height, your leg falling from his shoulder, towering over you. His hand comes to rest lightly on your waist as if to steady you. “You okay?”

You nod, though your bones feel like jelly. Your eyes stay closed as you try to gather yourself, forcing yourself back into reality, back into the woman who doesn’t fold like a house of cards for her co-worker. You bend down to retrieve your shorts and check from the floor, fingers fumbling with the zipper as you button yourself back up. He presses the button to resume the elevator, the gears shifting as you’re slowly carried back to the main floor. 

And just like that, it hits you. It happened. You’ve came on Javier’s tongue and fingers. You swore it wouldn’t— swore up and down that he was nothing more than a nuisance at work, a distraction you wouldn’t let get to you. But here you are, post-orgasm, in a goddamn public elevator, of all places, with the man who was supposed to be just a headache.

“Hope you got your fix because it’s never happening again,” you mutter, trying to summon the biting edge to your words, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Javier just smirks, that infuriating glint back in his eyes like he already knows better, but he doesn’t push it. Not now.

The elevator doors slide open with a sharp ding, and the scene before you is worse than any nightmare you could’ve concocted in the heat of the moment. Two firefighters, the building manager, and— of course because why the hell not— Steve Murphy are standing there with varying degrees of shock and amusement.

You can see the moment Steve takes it all in— your flushed cheeks, the slightly mussed state of your clothes, Javier standing just a bit too close to you. His blue eyes narrow, then widen, and then he breaks into a shit-eating grin so wide you could slap it right off his face.

“Well, well, well,” Steve drawls, barely containing his laughter. “What do we have here?”

Your stomach sinks. Not again. 

Javier, ever the cocky bastard, simply raises an eyebrow and slides his hands into his pockets, all cool nonchalance like he hasn’t just been between your thighs minutes earlier. “Just crapped out on us randomly,” he says smoothly, and you want to strangle him for the audacity.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head as if he’s in on some big joke that only you and Javier are the punchline for. And as you step past him, cheeks burning, all you can think is that this will never, ever happen again.

But even as you repeat it to yourself, a small part of you— the part still buzzing from the memory of Javier’s mouth— wonders if you’re lying.

[elfven-blog]

Proven Right

Summary: Leon has been fascinated with his neighbour for 5 years now, and he finally comes back from Spain with a plan. RE4!Leon Kennedy x F!Reader CW: MDNI, 18+ only, Stalking, camera watching, compromising picture, mutual masturbation , p in v, creampie (if I have missed any please let me know)

Word count: 3K

It had started when he had moved out of the training dorms and finally into his own apartment. There had been a subtle scent of peaches float past his open door as he moved the meagre number of possessions he had into the small apartment. It had been 5 years since then, and yeah, he could have moved since then. Lord knows he could afford it, but that would also mean moving away from you.

The scent of peaches quickly became his favourite, after he’d managed to befriend you over the years and had access to your home he’d found some of the products you used. The peach scrub, peach body mist and some of the lip gloss you wore too…he had duplicates of all of them. He’d even brought the same shampoo and conditioner as you once but then you made a comment about how you preferred his previous smell, and he quickly went back to that.

It wasn’t just your scent that he had adopted, he learnt to cook some of your favourite food (loving the look on your face when he had ‘extra’ and the way you’d bake him brownies in response), he’d watched your favourite film over and over until he had it memorised and could make offhand comments when you watched it together, and he’d even read up on that game with zombies that you seemed so obsessed with. Had even helped you beat some of the harder fights…and God Leon has sworn to get better video games, the way you watched with awe as he fired the virtual gun and how you flung your arms around him and pulled him so tight that he could feel your breasts press up against him.

Maybe he had that banked in his memory store to use in the shower.

“Lee! Oh my god, are you okay?” He was pulled from his trailing mind at the sound of that sweet voice as he turned from his door to look at you. Dishevelled, door open most of the way, slippers on his feet and it looked like you had rushed to the door at the sound of his key in his own doors lock. But wait…was that his shirt? He thought he had lost it months ago; he must have left it at yours during one of your many movie nights. You could keep it, looked so much better on you. “I was so worried”.

About him? You’re so sweet. He smiles at you, nodding his head and moving away from his door to wrap his arms around you. This wasn’t an odd amount of affection for the both of you. Leon felt himself relax as your arms wrapped around him too, squeezing him tight. “Sorry darling, they really needed me at the other branch”.

He felt you pat his back, and he pulled away so you wouldn’t get uncomfortable with too long of a hug. You smile up at him as you both pull back, and he notices the bags under your eyes before you shrug at him “It’s okay, missed our weekly sleepover but you can make it up to me this weekend?” Leon had never nodded so fast.

He watched as you walked back into your apartment before opening his own and moving in through the door.

When Leon received your message that you had finished work, and he could come over he felt his heart race. He stared at himself in the mirror as he finished getting ready, making sure to use that cologne he’d noticed you seemed to enjoy. Always leaning closer when he wore it.

He had plan. Today, tonight. It would work.

Leon watched his phone on the counter as he made sure his cuts were covered and nothing would be too painful, the screen lit up with the inside of your apartment. And there you were, flitting around to make sure there were enough blankets and snacks, and you had even gone out and brought his favourite drink.

A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. Something that would be immensely helpful tonight, these cameras that he’d helped you install for security reasons. It felt like pure luck when you asked him for that help, learning what make and company the camera was meant it was much easier to hack into. And getting one of the IT specialists to do it was even easier with his clearance. ‘Just want to see if I should get a different one if this is too easy get into’.

He moved out of the bathroom, phone still in hand as he grabbed the snacks he’d gone and brought for the both of you. Once he’d made sure his door was locked, triple checking just in case, it was mere seconds before he was letting himself into your apartment. Something you both often did when expecting each other, no need to knock. “Hey! Brought snacks” his rough timbre sounded out and you replied with a short ‘Living room!’.

He took his boots off at the door, making his way to where you were, smiling at you as he put the snacks down before sitting close to you on the sofa. His arm resting on the back, and his legs spreading. Leon had worn those jeans you’d complimented, the ones that hugged his legs in a way that showed the muscle he’d spent years building. You could never keep your eyes off his thighs in these jeans, and then you’d spend the rest of the night with your hand between your own.

You didn’t question the position he put himself in, it feels almost natural to be this close to him, to have his warmth permeate into your side as you leant your head back against his arm. You pulled the thick blanket over both of you, Leons brows furrowing as it covered the sight of his legs, so he pushed it off him and pulled it to cover more of you. When you turned your head to look at him he shrugged and mumbled an excuse of not being cold right now. You accepted the reason with a nod before asking what movie he wanted to watch.

The blonde pretended to think for a moment before taking the remote and putting a movie on, “This one’s meant to be good…haven’t seen it yet” He knew you hadn’t either, and there was no indication of the special part in this movie, one he knew would get you biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.

And it’s bit further into the movie where he’s proven right, you’ve been stealing glances at him all night. Your eyes lingering on his legs and the arm around the back of the sofa, which has, for unknown reasons, managed to slip down to round your waist. His fingers drawing circles across the soft skin of your waist. Distractingly. But you manage to keep your eyes on the screen, not wanting to ruin whatever friendship you’d built with the man and worried that he would never feel the same.

You had understood why he picked this movie, a great distraction from the ‘government job’ he’d told you he had. Never telling you specifics but it had him away for days at a time so it must be tiresome. But you hadn’t expected a full 10 minutes of sex to play part way during it, and by the way he sighed, and a pink dusted his cheeks neither had Leon. It was a good movie; you could power through a few minutes…okay 5 that’s a good length…10? Why’s it still going.

Eyes glued to the screen as your breath shallowed, and thighs pressed together you tried to pretend it wasn’t affecting you. That you weren’t imagining your hot blonde neighbour being the one to bend you over that desk like the protagonist currently was to the partner he had. That you weren’t thinking of him drawing those slow circles somewhere else.

Leons hasn’t been paying attention to the movie since the scene began, to focused on the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips, or how your hand twitches against the blanket. His hand moves a little lower, pulling you closer to him and you don’t even realise. Just sink into his side. Your eyes almost have no colour, his hand plays with the band of your shorts. He moves himself slowly, legs pressed against yours and your head turns lightly.

A small gasp you hope he didn’t hear as you snap your head back to the screen. Pretending you didn’t see the bulge in his jeans, that it didn’t cause your pussy to flicker and fill with slick. This time it’s your turn to move, and hope Leon doesn’t notice. Your hand settles on his thigh, close but not where he wants it. Of course, he’s noticed, in fact he slides down in the seat. Your hand resting over his cock from where it strains in the fabric, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

His hips rolled up into your hand with a low groan, and you palmed at him wanting to hear more. Were you really doing this? Letting your neighbour use your hand to get off? Yes, God yes. It was then that you noticed his own hand had slipped below your shorts and suddenly you felt embarrassed.

“No underwear, sweet girl?” The tips of your ears turned red as one of his fingers slipped between your wet lips, gathering slick before swirling at your clit. “How brave, maybe you were hoping this would happen?” Just like him, except he didn’t hope, he knew. Just like he planned.

He drew a moan out of you as your thighs spread to give him more access, your own hand shakily moving to undo his jeans so you could pull him out. His head fell back at the contact of your cool hand on his hot skin, it felt so much better than he ever could imagine. His hand dipped further down to tease at your hole as it clenched around nothing, smiling at the sweet noises you gave him. They sounded so much better in person then on the shitty mic quality of the camera. Gifting you his owns whines as your hand squeezed the base of his cock before moving up at a slow teasing pace.

Neither of you paying attention to the movie playing, your head falling back onto his shoulder, and he took this opportunity to lean forward and lick his tongue into your mouth. Your eyes closed and you happily let him, mouth opening to reciprocate the messy kisses he was giving you. Leon kissed you like a man starved, until there was spit dribbling down your chin and you were squirming against his hand. Grinding your hips down as your thighs clenched around his wrist, you whined into his mouth and pushed up against him, needing more.

Leon pulled away and you pouted, chasing his mouth before his hand stopped you. His thumb swiping the saliva on your bottom lip before pushing past into your mouth. You suck his thumb, tongue swirling around it in the same way he circles your clit. Your hips buck into his hand, eyes pleading at him. He presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, moving to press his ringers against the sweet spot in your cunt. “C’mon sweet girl, wont you come for me?”

And that’s all it takes for your back to arch, your legs to clench around his wrist as the building pleasure snaps and you gush against his hand. You feel it drip down your thighs and a wet spot grows on the sofa below you. Leon pulls his hand out, moving to lay you down “Is it okay if I?” You nod at him desperately, hands pulling at his shirt. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl, honey” He removes his jeans and under wear completely before pulling down your shorts.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of his cock slapping at his stomach, you had felt how big he was but you hadn’t seen it. “I don’t think you’ll fit, too big, Leon” He shakes his head, moving to kneel on the sofa, his hands hooking around your knees and pushing them up to your shoulders. Your hands clench at the blanket somewhat forgotten.

“It will fit, I’ll make it fit” He gave himself a few strokes before moving the tip between your dripping folds, bumping the clit, and making both of you moan “God baby, so hot” he groaned out as he pushed into you slowly, making you take him inch by inch. You whined as he stretched you out, hands moving to grip his arms. Leon’s movement stutters slightly at the feel of your nails digging into him, but he bottoms out and gives you a moment to adjust. “Told you, I’d make it fit. Feels good don’t it, pretty?”

Your eyes are closed, and you nod, “Yes! Feels so good, Lee” you tug his arms, hips rolling up and he gets the message. His own hips rut into you, he’s setting a face pace immediately and while he did want to take his time with you, he couldn’t wait. You both needed this, needed him buried deep inside you as he bullied his cock into you at a brutal pace. The blonde presses his body weight onto you, forcing your knees past your ears and his hips don’t stop.

One of his hands move your body, gently touching your breasts before stopping at your neck where it makes the prettiest necklace. He applies a slight pressure, enough to have you arching up and gasping as your eyes open to look up at him. And your legs shake at the sight of this man above you. He looks nothing short of an angel. Your cunt clenches around his cock as his hips snap into your thighs and the head bumps your cervix.

His other hand leaves a bruise of the fat of your thigh from the grip, he leans down to press another searing kiss to your mouth, and he keeps his pace up. The sound of his skin hitting yours fills the apartment, and you almost feel sorry for your other neighbours if it wasn’t for the pleasure clouding your mind. His tongue licks into your mouth, wet and heavy as you try to keep up with his pace but your legs shake and he grins into the kiss before he’s pulling away “What’s wrong honey? Gonna cum again already? Don’t be shy, sweetheart”.

Leons mouth travels from yours to your neck, leaving marks into your skin that match the one on your thigh, until he’s level with your tits. His eyes remain on you as your head falls back. The sensation of his tongue swirling at your nipple and the drag of his cock against your walls has your mind spinning. Words fall on your tongue, turning into whimpers as he suckles at your breasts. He gently nips before moving on the other one “Looked a lil lonely, better make it even” and he does. Your nothing but a shaky mess below him while he decorates your skin in reds. He has you pinned down as your hips buck up.

Then the hand from your thigh moves between your bodies, down to where he’s been grinding into you. His thumb finding your sensitive clit again, the feeling as you squeeze down onto him again and he moans around your breast. Leon starts to rut into you slower, causing you to be frustrated but he only looks up at you from where he mouths at your nipple with a raised eyebrow. He does one hard and fast thrust and your head is thrown back. He keeps this rhythm up, slow thrusts with one fast for a while until your squirming.

“leon, please, faster, need” He lets go of your tit with a pop, moving so he’s kneeling up right. His hand squeezes your neck once before both are placed on the back of your thighs. Suddenly you get the feeling you should have let him continue his pace. But your eyes are rolling back as you try to find something to grip, his hips piston into you ruthless pace. Skin slapping against skin. Your mind is blank, and Leon adores the looks on your face as he fucks you merciless.

He feels your legs tremble below his fingers, and he pushes you further back so he can watch as your pussy sucks him in, trying to keep his cock buried deep inside you. Spit drools down your chin, your eyes unfocused on anything as you stare at the ceiling, unable to think of anything but the way Leon fucks you. With a loud moan, you reach that peak again. Legs kicking as well as they can in this position “Oh fuck!” falls from Leons mouth as he continues grinding into you, his body falling onto yours as he follows quickly. His hot load filling you with thick ropes.

You both lay there for a moment before you feel Leon move, he sits back up on his haunches, phone in hand. And you whine “Just want some pictures of my pretty girl, they’re all for me don’t you worry” the idea almost has you wanting to go again, instead you look at him and move your hands to help hold your legs up. Leon’s eyes darken as he begins taking pictures. Some of him still plugging you up, but most of the way his seed spills out of you and a video (that you don’t realise he’s taken) of him pushing it back in.

When he’s done and the phones back on the floor, he leans down to press sweet kisses to your mouth, his hand soothing over your thighs and gently massaging your breasts. “Want me to help you to the bathroom, sweet girl?” The nod you gives him is slow, your head still syrupy as he picks you up bridal style, carefully carrying you to the bathroom.

[sanakimohara]

I'm hoping it's not just me that gets honey by taking nudes (semi even). Literally with each piece of clothing gone, I become horny(er). So I was thinking about hyunjin seeing reader taking nudes 🤭

[ NXDE ] H. H.

pairing/s: hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: having a new, rich, and entitled step brother has its ups and downs…

playlist:

warnings: smut + mdni + nsfw + blackmail / degradation…? + mastrubatuon + degradation + pervhyunjin + cumeating / oral

type: headcannnon \ semi specific plot

authors note: eons later I finally get to this…please forgive me…

[ not proofread ]

Hyunjin walks in on you by accident. Swallowing a loud groan, he watches you from your bedroom doorway. Your back is towards him, laptop open, webcam running, and your phone propped up in your hands as you lay on your side and snap an overhead picture of yourself with the sluttiest smile he’s ever seen.

Hyunjin dares to shift his gaze away from your face, eyes falling half-closed, seeing your pink sundress tossed at the end of your bed, sheer tights lying on top of the discarded clothing, and your bralette soon joining the pile. He digs his teeth into his tongue, seeing the light fabric leave your skin, the curve of your breasts visible from the back as you sit up on your knees and pose for another photo.

Hyunjin isn’t above watching you in silence, awed and too painfully aware of his growing erection. He stays for the show you put on -performing for the cameras to please no one else but yourself. That’s what he’s convinced himself, hoping you don’t notice him observing, praying you don’t hear the whisper of a groan he lets out as you slowly widen the space between your knees while circling your hips to settle down.

Hyunjin can’t take his eyes off you, gaze flickering between the cameras you provocatively pose for and your body. You take all the time in the world to snap and film yourself, mirroring positions he’d only dreamt of putting you in himself, able to mimic doe and siren eyes on a subconscious cue, and the point of it all driving him insane as he stands in your bedroom doorway.

Who could you be taking these photos for?

Why couldn’t he convince himself to leave, to slam the door shut and forget he ever saw you doing something so private and depraved?

What could he possibly do to stifle the near painful heat in his abdomen, the constant pulsing of his cock through his black sweat, or the twitch of his fingers as he forced his body to remain stone still and out of your sight?

There are too many questions and not enough answers.

Hyunjin can’t help the chill crawling up his spine when you finally notice him watching you strip and photograph every inch of skin he dreamt of touching with his own hands. Your eyes cut through him via your laptop lens, a sweet smile slowly spreading across your face and a mocking rise of your hips as you shift to look at him directly over your shoulder. His chest is weighted with tangible shame.

He shouldn’t be doing this, watching his new little step-sister taking vulgar pictures of herself for god knows what reason and fantasizing that her motives for doing so had something to do with him and no one else.

He shouldn’t have enjoyed the evident smirk tugging at your peach-plump lips, the haze in your eyes as you beckoned him towards you with a single finger, or the tilt of your head when he shook his head to refuse.

He stares at your bare breasts, full and looking soft to the touch, among other details he took in about you at the moment. His voice skated on the edge of a whisper, trembling with illicit desire, “I…I should go..”

You sat up straight, a pout on your lips as you shifted to sit, your knees pulled up just slightly from the bed, and your arms helping to balance your weight in the new, relaxed position. “Why? I liked having a little audience…even if it was my pervert of a stepbrother..”

It’s no insult; your light tone and quiet giggle clarify the possible misconception, but they still manage to irritate him.

“I’m not a pervert…” he mutters back immediately, glaring straight at you but failing to uphold his protest as that very same glare lowered to the space between your partially opened legs.

Hyunjin exhales heavily through his nose, entranced by your barely covered cunt peeking back at him. Your slit is made evident by the dewy patch of arousal seeping through your lace underwear, soft folds nearly swallowing the thin fabric. He can’t see it, but your walls throb the longer he stares where he shouldn’t, a boldness snaking its way into your train of thought, seeing his body visibly waver against the doorframe he stood in.

Hyunjin is in a dazed trance as you begin to touch yourself, lazily sliding a hand to caress your inner thighs and gliding that very same hand over the slick expanse of your folds while a shiver racks your body. His tongue darts past his lips, strands of dark hair falling over his sultry stare, the heat pulsating in his chest pouring into his cock as your middle finger gently rubs past the puffy and wet slit holding his interest.

A smirk travels onto your face; your voice is sweet and low as breathy moans float between your words. “Mhmm…but look at you…Hyunie...”

“…watching me touch myself…”

Your finger dips past the fabric of your panties, immediately covered in your sticky arousal and the sound of the single digit echoing softly through his ears. He swallows hard, eyes sliding shut to snap open a moment later as you whimper from the loss of eye contact. “Look at me…please..” you feign desperation, aware of your stepbrother's struggle to sustain morality or indulge in what he can’t have.

You, his oh-so-spoiled little stepsister, got away with everything.

Who haunted his fantasies like a slippery ghost for the hell of doing so.

Hyunjin holds his resolve for a moment longer, weighing all his motives, stare flickering between the slow and steady pump of your fingers diving in and out of your creamy walls. Leaving now would be so easy; his absence could wipe the little triumphant smirk off your pretty face and give him something to hold onto your head.

But what’s the fun in that?

Hyunjin takes his chances, pushing off the doorframe with a huff and reaching a hand behind to slam your bedroom door shut and lock it for good measure. You don’t stop what you’re doing; your body is racked with delicious tingles of anticipation as your index and ring fingers join the assault of your cunt. Your lips slowly fall open from the mountain in your lower stomach, the tight feeling accelerated by his steady gaze and nearing body heat. He’s given up denying your backhanded compliments, cursing under his breath in awe as your doe-eyed gaze falters into an utterly desperate haze and your fingers dive into your walls at a faster pace.

“N-need your help…” you whisper, thighs trembling slightly as your fingers barely graze against the spot you need the most friction. It’s not enough; you could never make it enough, especially knowing he could do much better at the task.

Hyunjin let his body move independently, sinking to the floor on his knees without a second thought. His large hands smoothed up your bare and warm legs to grip the back of your knees. You fidgeted under his touch, having thought about several occasions, but you were startled to feel the slight roughness in his skin.

Your timid reaction induced no pause from him, his hold tightening just enough to drag your body close to him with one tug, and you obediently complied with a soft whine flying past your lips. “You’re … so…disgusting…”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, not sparing your face a glance as he slaps your hand away from your soaking cunt, irritated by how slowly you’re touching yourself. “Shut up…take my help or not…I don’t care…” He forces an edge to the response, not meaning a word of it but hyper-focused on the mess you’ve already made.

One piece of fabric left on your body, drenched by cum, and obnoxiously useless in his eyes.

You open your mouth to mock him again, face flushed by his last retort, but your pride is too enthralled for you to accept defeat and his intense stare on your cunt not helping your wavering confidence in the situation. “Mak-“

Hyunjin is quicker than you, head diving straight between your thighs before a completely notable phrase leaps off your tongue while he licks a thick stripe from sipping entrance up to your relatively neglected clit. “Fuck!..” you help in shock and delight as he laps at your cunt with little regard for anything else, hands trailing down to scratch at your inner thighs and holding them open as his head rested on the right one. Your eyes lower, watering with pleasant tears watching him eagerly delve his tongue along your slit and past your drizzling entrance.

A question of his integrity floats in the back of your head, fizzling out on your tongue as a trembling gasp fills your chest. “H-Hyunjin..?”

“Hmm…?” He groans, immersed in the taste of you, lips placing tender to your clit when his tongue isn’t swirling on or around it. You bite your lip, swallowing a moan as your parents unlock the front door, which carries you up two flights of stairs and into your oddly quiet room.

Hyunjin hears them too but refuses to acknowledge their hovering presence as he presses his head further between your trembling thighs, the fluff of his hair tickling your heated and sensitive skin, and the force of his shift in position knocking you onto your back. There’s no longer a point in showing hesitation; he’s come to terms with that and entirely abandoned the facade of maintaining dignity, hearing your shy moans feel the air with every slip of his tongue into your fluttering hole.

You can’t stand looking at him directly anymore, blushing rose red as he purposely spits into your entrance, lapping up the mixture of your arousal and his drool with an excited and guttural groan as your hands fly to weave through his dark tresses.

“F…mhmm f-feels so…” The praise twists in your chest, verging on coming out, but you are strangled by the constant pressure of orgasm as he shoves your legs further up and out.

Hyunjin smirks as you choke on a silent scream from the new position he’s put you in, nearly folded in half, and left no choice but to let him have his fill of your creamy pussy with your discarded clothes slipping off the bed's edge. One glance up at you makes his cock throb almost painfully, sweats constricting the tense twitching seeing your pleasured expressions and writhing body reflected in the laptop's webcams and your up-standing phone camera.

He could get used to catching you in the act.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d be a sweet little stepsister for once and take more than a few pictures and videos for him and only him.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?…

authors note: yall aren’t going to believe this… but I went fucking camping and I hated it tbh…

other links: n/a

[ bonus content + ]

Credits to Creator 🖤 Also, what do you guys think of the members' solo stages so far? Which ones are your favorites?

[epiphainie]

i really enjoy your writing and i was curious about what your favourite bucktommy fics are 👀👀

(only if you feel like answering!)

thank you! i feel like i keep reccing the same fics but i adore them a lot sooo... i'll try to mention more this time:

(edit: putting it under read more bc it got really long)

one way trip to the sun by @newtkelly i've read this twice, i adore the writing, the film homages, the nonlinear format. it's made for me

what the agony had been for by @alchemistc honestly, anything by catie but this is one of my fav tommy focused fics and it being by buck's pov is a feature

a promise of forever by @firehose118 i love the flavor of domesticity bucktommy have in this one, it's so comforting

identify me by @kinaaaard i dont know how to explain it but this fic ruined me for some reason

histocompatibility by @rcmclachlan loved it on tumblr, loved it on ao3 again

five ways to fall in love with the man in the mirror by @userautumn i've just read this this morning and it managed to make me cry with its less than 2k words, it's gorgeous

baby, if you think you're able (you need to take this rough medicine) by @dadbodbuck best smut muah

rule four (you were only waiting for this moment to arise) by daisyblaine (idk if they're here) anything with these vibes is made for me honestly, just this liminal piece of character study

an outlier that should not be counted by @dadvans this is a classic to me

old dog new tricks by @watchyourbuck this one makes my brain go brrrrrr age gap smut you will always be famous

mr july by @lazybakerart this is how i aspire to write in buck's pov honestly, his voice is so good here, so buck

jealousy doesn't always come with green eyes by elizabethgee my fav jealousy fic

Versatile by cjr2 (please tag the writers if you know theyre here) i remember this making me laugh out loud

like sun on my skin (so this is love, i know it is) by @buckera im a slut for these types of flash moments on a theme fics and this is so sweet

Awful quiet here since love fell asleep by @cecilyv @liminalmemories21 one thing about me: the first thing i read when i get into a ship is the breakup fics and this is so beautiful my absolute fav

display me by WallabyWhump i think about this all the time, fav smut oneshots top contender

get undressed, leave a mess (worry 'bout it after) by @prettyboybuckley i read this before i watched the show and it changed my brain chemistry, it's so filthy (positive)

[moodriingz]

Waiting Room | Q. Hughes

Summary | Reader works for the Canucks’ socials and has an unrequited crush on Quinn. Based off of Waiting room by Phoebe Bridgers.

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | unrequited love, angst, moving on?

Author's Note | Oh my gosh this ended up so much longer than intended, so buckle in it’s a long one. I thought about trying to shorten it but I had so many ideas about what to include. I was also so nervous to write this one that it took me forever to finish. Also thinking of writing a part two, but let me know what you think. Please send in requests for other players!

Masterlist

Part two

If you were a teacher, I would fail your class

Take it over and over 'til you noticed me

“This is why you are the best person ever,” Quinn said as you carried an insane amount of coffee for some of the team and the Canucks social staff.

“Oh, it’s no big deal I always just pick some up when I get mine,” you say as you almost drop the lattes from your hands. “I’m going to find Elias and drop his off and then head to my desk. See you at practice.”

“Y/N how did you know I didn’t get the chance to pick up my coffee?” Elias asked with a smirk. “Or did you just get extra so it wouldn’t be obvious you love to get Quinn’s coffee?”

“Goodbye Elias! I’ll see you on the ice in a bit!” You shout as you walk down the hall to the social media office.

You set down the last two coffees on your desk, go through your emails, and write down some ideas for content before your morning meeting. 

“Y/N you have to stop buying his coffee, you're just torturing yourself,” Megan says as she sets her bag down. “But please don’t stop bringing me coffee because I never have enough time to get some myself.”

“Ok Megan I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t get it just for Quinn, I also got it for Elias today,” you say with a blush covering your cheeks.

“Yeah alright. Let’s go get this meeting started.”

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed

After the meeting with the rest of the social media and communications team, it’s decided that you have to go on the ice to capture content today. Usually, you can just film from the bench, but your boss wanted some trending content that required you to skate with the team. The only bad thing about filming on the ice was your awful case of clumsiness.

You were filming content with Brock when you tripped over your own two feet. Normally, you’d laugh it off after getting up, but your left foot twisted under your body. 

You wince as Brock helps you stand to skate off the pain but yelp the second you put your weight on the foot. Quinn watches as Brock’s hands are on your waste and immediately skates over the second you cry out in pain.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Quinn asked, putting your arm around his shoulders to support you as he took you to the bench.

“I-I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle as I fell,” You say looking into his worried eyes.

“Ok, let me take the skate off, and then we can go to the trainers and get you ice,” Quinn grimaces as he takes the skate off and sees your ankle already swelling.

“It’s probably just a sprain, but we need to get ice on this ASAP. I’ll take you to the trainers, let's go,” Quinn says standing to help you up.

“But what about practice? You guys have your East Coast road trip coming up, and I’m not going to be the reason you skip out on practice,” You say trying to figure your way to get ice or wait until Megan comes to help. 

Truthfully though, you don’t want him to take you because the way Quinn is taking care of you makes you fall harder for him.

“Don’t be crazy. Practice is almost over and they won’t miss me for the five minutes it’ll take me to make sure you’re ok,” Quinn says as you nod reluctantly. You feel your blush coming back and know you’re never going to get over your silly crush on Quinn Hughes.

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

The next night the Canucks lost to the Flyers with just a game left before the two-week road trip. The loss was hard following Christmas, and Quinn was beating himself up over the game. You found him after finishing up your content for the night and he finished his interviews. He tried to smile at you, but it looked like a grimace from how tight his lips were.

“Hey how are you,” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You say sheepishly.

“Yeah, I guess. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could hang out at my place and watch some movies,” Quinn’s question surprised you. You’ve only really hung out in group settings or when the team went out after a game.

“I’m free, let me just finish wrapping some stuff up and then we can go,” You say with butterflies forming in your chest. 

You go and find Megan and tell her everything that happened with Quinn.

“Shut up you’re going, right?” She asks.

“Yeah of course I am, I think I’d be stupid not to. I’m just nervous,” You respond. 

“Don’t be. He asked you over for a reason he must not hate you.” Megan says practically pushing you out the door.

You nod and go back to find Quinn talking to Elias while he waits for you to come back. 

“Hey ready to go?” You ask.

“You’re replacing me for our movie nights?” Elias blurts out of jealousy.

“No, not completely replacing you. I just didn’t want to wallow alone. Plus I figured Y/N would be free,” Quinn says nonchalantly. There’s a pang in your chest because not only is this a tradition with someone else, but that he just assumed you’re at his beck and call. You both arrive at his apartment after a silent drive from Rogers arena.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, swaying back and forth. Is he nervous? Why would he be? It's not like this is a date or anything. This is something he always does with Elias. 

“Can I just have water?” You say quieter than intended. You felt small and out of place in his apartment.

“Of course. Do you want to pick out the movie? I figure you should do the honors for your first movie night,” He says as he pours your water. 

You think for a second and immediately know you should put on your favorite rom-com 13 going on 30. It’s kind of a comfort movie and you might calm down with something familiar. Once it’s pulled up he sits down with you on the couch.

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better

He told you he’s never seen the movie as he sits down and watches intently until the birthday scene.

“Man, I feel so bad for that Matty kid.”

“Why,” you say, keeping your attention on the tv.

“His unrequited love with Jenna,” He says it so plainly like he’s toying with you for your confession.

“Yeah unrequited love is the worst,” You say finally looking over at him.

“Why do you have feelings like that for someone,” He chuckles at the idea. You realize he doesn’t know that you have feelings for him.

“No. I did at one point,” You say, and the subject is dropped. You watch the rest of the movie and he orders you an Uber home. You realized that night that your crush needs to end no matter how hard it is.

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

Quinn seems to be in a much better mood from the loss the night before. But you want to avoid him at all costs today. Your boss asks you to do something with him later. There’s nothing you rather do than work with Quinn, but You want to stay in your boss’ good graces.

She asked you to shoot a video with a concept that had been performing well on socials with other players. You find Quinn before he steps out for practice to let him know you’re following him for the day.

“Hopefully you can keep a better balance than you did with Brock,” He chuckles.

“Yeah I’ll try my best not to fall today,” you say with your signature blush covering your cheeks.

“Well if you do I’ll catch you. Can’t have my favorite staffer breaking something.” Oh, he must be playing with you. Your face is completely flushed and you give a court nod before running to the restroom to calm down.

You start to think over your last couple of conversations. Had he been flirting? Or giving you more attention than usual? You think about how he rushed to your side and left practice just to help you even if it got him in trouble. You think about his smile when you bring his coffee. You think about last night how he was so tuned into unrequited love.

“No Y/N there are bigger things than a silly little crush. You have to go do your job.” You say to yourself in the mirror. After your pep talk, you go out on the ice, shoot your content quickly, and then go back to your office to edit. You tell yourself that you need to stop focusing so much on Quinn.

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

The Canucks win the next game, and before you can make it into the locker room to shoot content Brock stops you.

“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” He asks. You can see Quinn’s head pick up waiting for your response.

“Yeah, I can. I just need to film a couple of the post-game interviews and then I can leave,” you say excited for a drink.

When you all arrive at the usual bar you head straight up to the bar. You give a once-over of the crowd and how many people are there tonight. You go find the boys at their usual table. And you find Quinn’s eyes already staring at yours. 

“I think I’m going to go dance,” You tell Elias before turning around to head to the dance floor.

“Where’s she going,” Quinn asks Elias, watching your retreating figure.

“Going to dance. Are you going to replace me there too?” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny. I’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says as he leaves to find you.

Of course, you’re in the middle of the crowd and once he finds you’re already making new friends. Quinn laughs to himself because you’re so sociable unlike him. 

“Are you ok if I join you,” Quinn says leaning in. You can only nod and note his proximity but brush it off due to the crowded area.

He dances close to you as music plays over the speakers. His energy and presence make you feel alive. He follows your moves as you’re face to face and you never want this night to end. However, at the end of the song, he notices your glass is empty and offers you another drink. You nod and follow him back to the bar.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” You ask after he only requests your drink. He shakes his head no and gets closer.

“I figured I’d be the designated driver to take you home tonight,” he says with his breath hitting your ear. The alcohol already going straight to your head makes the room spin and gives you confidence.

“Usually I only take guys home after the third date,” You joke, instantly regretting it. He laughs it off and says that you need more water instead of a drink. Even though you’re tipsy you remember that this crush is going to hurt you regardless of how he feels.

I want to make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over

I want to make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter

At the end of the night, Quinn keeps his promise as he ushers you into his car. You’re giggling as he pulls you towards safety and you say goodnight to all of the team.

“Goodnight Pettyyyyy,” you slur and yell as you get further from him. He just waves and chuckles. 

“Get her home safe Huggy,” Elias shouts back drunkenly.

“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Quinn says finally getting you in the car.

“You know my dad used to drive my mom back from bars back in the day,” you say once he starts driving as you stare out the window.

“Oh yeah?” Quinn chuckles at your drunken state.

You feel so grateful that he decided to take you home. You hate taking Uber, especially after drinking. You take note that the bar is nowhere close to your apartment and his place is on the other side of town. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, but he did it without you even having to ask. Maybe your unrequited love isn’t so unrequited and you fall asleep in your bed hopeful for what the next day could contain.

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her

The next morning was rough to get out of bed, but get excited when memories of Quinn going out of his way to bring you home come back to you. You get ready and go to the coffee shop you always stop at with a pep in your step.

Once you get to the arena you go straight to the locker room as usual except you stop right outside of the door when you hear Elias and Quinn talking.

“So you and Y/N,” Elias said with a suggestive and teasing tone.

“Nothing happened between us. She’s sweet and all, but I’m not into her that way,” He says quickly. Your heart shattered and you turned around to leave before you could be caught.

You drop your things off at your desk and run to the restroom to let out a good cry. After a minute or two you compose yourself before going back to your desk and delivering the coffee like nothing happened.

You hand Quinn's coffee and he thanks you with his usual stupid smile like he didn’t say anything ten minutes ago. You give Elias his coffee and leave the locker room without saying a word. Little did you know, Elias followed you out and caught up to you in the hallway.

“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks you with sad eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s ok I knew this would happen. I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be awkward on the plane because we always sit together for roadies,” you say with a sigh.

“Sit with me,” Elias says simply and you just look at him perplexed. “I’ll just say I wanted my own movie night with you.” You nod and tell Elias you have to go for your meeting before you all leave.

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You walk into the plane after your meeting and you finalize some posts to be uploaded while you’re flying. You see Quinn watching you expectantly for you to take your unassigned seat next to him. However, You miss the surprised and sad gaze he has after you walk past him to sit with Elias.

Elias always sits near the back of the plane, and Quinn knows you hate sitting so far back. He hears you and Elias pick a movie to watch during the flight and he gets jealous. It’s small but Quinn always wanted to do that on flights with you, but you always were more interested in reading or sleeping. 

“Do you want to watch 27 Dresses? Isn’t that your favorite?” Quinn hears Elias ask you and Quinn scoffs. He knew even before you came over to watch a movie that 13 going on 30 was your favorite move. That’s why he watched it before he invited you over so he’d have good commentary for your movie night.

You grab Elias’ hand as the plane lifts and apologize and say it’s muscle memory. You always get nervous on planes but Quinn always calms you down. You and Elias have fun for the rest of the flight. Watching movies even though it was something you wanted to do with Quinn. But you know getting over your crush is for the better. You and Quinn wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

The next day you wake up in your hotel room after letting yourself sleep in a little bit. Even on road trips, you would make a point of getting Quinn’s coffee. But you decided now that you know he doesn’t feel the same, so you didn’t see the point in doing it anymore. You come down from your hotel room and see Quinn in the lobby. 

“Oh hey, I was just going to wait for you to come back from getting coffee for everyone,” Quinn says sheepishly.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I can’t go today because I have to go meet the Blue’s social team before the game to go over rules for the game,” You say with little emotion.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. I guess I just see you at the arena,” Quinn says sadly.

“See you there!” You say with a smile leaving the lobby. This was the first time you felt like you could maybe get over Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

The team returns from a successful road trip and you feel energized, which rarely happens after traveling for two weeks straight. You and Elias became good friends over the trip and now realize there is a lot more to your work than just Quinn.

After your meeting, you and Megan are talking about your plans as you settle back into Vancouver.

“You should let me set you up,” Megan blurts out, cutting off your list of chores.

“What? Who would it even be?” You’re intrigued where she’s going with this.

“My friend Evan just got out of a relationship a couple of months ago. I feel like you guys would really get along. Plus it could be good for-”

“You know what I’m in. Can you send me his number or something?” You decided you were ready to move on.

“Yes! I’ll send it right now. I'm so excited.”

You go to the ice to get ready for some practice content. Quinn is out first and gives you a weak smile. You feel a mixture of butterflies and your heart clenches. You missed Quinn. You haven’t had a full conversation with him since you all went out. Even though you’re trying to convince yourself to, you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Your date with Evan is today and you’re excited. You feel giddy all day thinking about the prospect of dating again. Your boss lets you go home early because you’ve finished your content and are ahead of schedule. As you walk out to your car you see the team going back to the locker room from practice.

“Hey Y/N are you coming out with us tonight? It’s nothing crazy we just wanted to go out to celebrate the road trip,” Brock asks 

“I would love to, but I actually have a date tonight,” You say with a grin and blush on your face.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

There’s a couple of wolf whistles from the team when you tell them your plans. Quinn’s heart drops at the idea of you going out with someone else. He knew you guys hadn't talked a lot during the trip, but he just figured it was because you were busy with work or tired. He didn’t think it was because you started talking to someone.

He sulks as he gets ready to go home, and can’t stop thinking about who your date could be with and what you’re doing. He knows you look great no matter what you wear, but the idea of you dressing up for some other guy makes him uneasy. 

Quinn gets home and thinks about texting you, but what would he even say? “Good luck on your date hope you have fun” when he prays it goes badly so he has a shot again? He thinks about texting you to not go on the date, but knows it’s not his place and you might not feel the same way.

Instead he texts Elias if he wants to hang out. Elias comes over and immediately notices his sour mood. 

“What’s got you so down?”

“Nothing I guess I’m just in my head,” Quinn says.

“Is it about Y/N? I thought you said you don’t have feelings for her,” Elias says as a joke knowing Quinn would never admit it out loud.

“I didn’t think I did, but I’ve really missed her over the last couple of weeks and it made me think about her a lot. I just don’t know what to do,” Quinn says with his head in his hands. Elias is shocked at his revelation and doesn’t know what to say.

“I doubt the date is going to be that great. Tell her how you feel after,” Elias says and Quinn just nods his head. 

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You get ready for your date and get even more excited as it gets closer to your date. You know it might not go anywhere with Evan, but you’re just proud of yourself for trying to move on from Quinn.

You go to meet Evan at a restaurant downtown, and give him a hug when you see him. You quickly notice he’s the complete opposite of Quinn; he has brown eyes instead of Quinn’s blue eyes. Evan’s hair is light brown and barely has a wave vs Quinn’s dark brown curls. 

You quickly take note that Evan is more talkative and has a bigger personality than Quinn. He doesn’t seem to like silence and is always asking you more questions about yourself even as you try to look over the menu. Then you realize that if you truly want to get over Quinn, you’ve to stop comparing Evan to him.

That's when you guys hit it off. You realize he’s really funny and also understands your humor. You both have a lot in common too. You can’t stop smiling throughout the rest of the night. 

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

After your dinner you both don’t want the date to be over just yet so you decide to take a walk down the street to continue your conversation. You have no idea how long you guys have been together, but haven’t gotten bored of each other for the night.

You stumble across an ice cream shop, and both note how much you love ice cream. And even though it’s freezing outside you both decide to get some to end the night. After you finish you both decide to call it a night and He walks you back to your car.

Know It’s for the better

Know It’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

“I hate to say it this way, but I didn’t think I could have this much fun on a date,” Evan says looking down at you.

“No me too, but I had an amazing time.”

“Do you want to go out again soon? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but-” Evan rambles on and you decide to cut him off.

“I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free,” You say with a smile.

You get in the car and can wipe the grin off of your face as you drive home. You get ready for bed and almost want to text Elias, but know he’s with the team and didn’t want to interrupt their fun. 

Know it's for the better

I never grew up with you

And you’re not my waiting room

The next day you go into the office with your smile still wide. You see Megan in the parking lot and walk in together telling her about your date. 

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too” Megan squeals and tells you she’s so excited for you. 

Little did you know that Quinn was nearby and heard everything. You spot him not thinking much about it and he gives you a small smile. You realize that your life will continue on after your crush on Quinn and you’re ok with that.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; miscarriage ; major angst ; Word Count : 3.5k

“Felix!” You squealed as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as the softest chuckle filled your ears that his lips were right beside. Kisses were peppered against any surface he could reach as he swayed your body’s side to side, your own instinctively relaxing against him. “Remember what I said, right?” You murmured, tilting your head up to glance at him, his eyes twinkling with excitement even though he was dramatically pouting at you. 

“I know, I know.” He grumbled, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles against your stomach. “No telling STAY until the 5th month…” He sighed, his chin falling against your shoulder. “I’m just so excited, and I know they’ll be just as excited as I am when they hear about it.” 

You knew he was excited, you had recorded his reaction when you had surprised him with the news that you were pregnant on his birthday. The little “Congratulations Dad” card slipped in between the birthday card that you had gotten him, and you were so glad that you had decided at the last minute to film him opening the card. His reaction was genuine and precious, and the tears that filled his eyes as he looked up at you with a questioning smile, awaiting your reassurance that it wasn’t just some prank before jumping off the couch and engulfing you in a hug… It had all been enough to bring tears to your own eyes as you continued to assure him that yes, you really were pregnant. 

Sometimes you felt that he was even more excited than you were, and you were only just now entering your 3rd month. Felix had all but started the nursery for the baby by now, the names had already been picked out, and while you wanted the news to be kept from the fans just a little while longer, he was all too eager to tell the guys who shared in his joy about a new family member. He was the best partner to have, when you were feeling your worst and the symptoms were downright awful, he was always there to do his best to help you feel better. That is, until he had to go on tour. 

The announcement of the upcoming world tour was unexpected, and even Felix seemed a little taken back by it. The last thing he planned on doing during your pregnancy was traveling around the world, but you tried to think positively about it, hoping that your positivity would brush off on him and he’d be less reluctant to leave. 

“So you’re sure you don’t need me to stay here with you?” Felix posed the question as he stood by the front door, a duffle bag swung over his shoulder. Even though the question was meant to make it seem like you’re the one who’d need him to stay, both of you knew that he wanted you to say yes, he wanted you to give him any reason you could to stay with him. As much as you wanted him to stay though, you knew that it would be selfish, especially when so many fans wanted to see him. 

“I’m sure, babe.” You said the words through little bouts of giggles as you leaned against the wall, waiting to say those final goodbyes before he was gone. It used to be extremely hard to watch him leave, and you’d usually be the one trying to make up excuses just to delay his departure, but you were used to it now. It’s not that it wasn’t sad still, but after 4 years together, you were better at it, you both were, and you had figured out how to work around the time differences so that you could call each other and at least video chat once a day. This time would be no different, you both knew that. “Plus, by the time you finish the tour and you’re able to come back home, I’ll be close to 6 months, you won’t have to wait so long.” 

His head nodded, and as if you had just told him you were pregnant again for the first time, his eyes gleamed with just something else to get excited over. “Alright… You’re right, and then I only have to wait 3 months… Perfect… I don’t like waiting… I just want to meet them…” His eyes formed into thin crescents as his smile widened, his bag dropping to the floor as he walked over to you, his hands cupping your cheeks before pressing a deep kiss to your lips, the suddenness of it giving you a headrush. “I’ll miss you, angel… Keep yourself safe…” He lowered down just enough to brush his fingers along your stomach before giving it a small kiss that had your heart swelling. “And you stay safe too, my little nugget. Don’t give your mom too much trouble.” He rested his forehead against your tummy for a second, letting out a soft sigh, one last opportunity for you to just tell him to stay, but the silence out lasted the opportunity and he slowly got back to his feet, smiling softly to you. “Make sure you send me daily belly pictures, and video call me at doctors appointments so I can be there… Okay? Please?” 

Even with your reassurance, you knew that this was hard for him. This was the most exciting time of his life, not just career wise, but now at home as well. His family was growing, and he had to leave you when you were most vulnerable. It made him feel awful that he wouldn’t be there for you, and no amount of it’s okay’s would make him feel any less awful. It would be rough, but not without reward. He knew that once he got home he’d be with you again, and he wouldn’t have to wait as long either. 

“Felix, we’re about to go on…” Hyunjin whispered, his hand waving in front of the younger member's face to get his attention away from the video call that he was currently on with you. “We have like five minutes, and I know that you’re not going to just hang up on her, you need five minutes just to say goodbye because you do that back and forth thing that’s really cringy.” 

Felixs face scrunched up with embarrassment as his cheeks were flushed a light pink, his head turning to look at Hyunjin. “I do not take five minutes just to say goodbye, and we do not do the cringy back and forth thing. We promised we wouldn’t be like that…” His head quickly turned back to the screen when he heard your snicker that you attempted to muffle. “We don’t do that… Do we?” 

Your lips pursed and slightly turned up at the corners. “What if I said it totally isn’t cringe and I love our 5 minute back and forth goodbyes.” You posed, but your laugh sounded through the speakers as his head fell back and he let out a groan, especially when Hyunjin started laughing too, patting the younger man's shoulder and giving him an I told you so before walking off. “You really need to get out there though…” 

Now that Hyunjin was out of the room, Felix could return to the matter of the call, and as annoying as his hyung was at the moment, it was a welcomed distraction from what the two of you were talking about. “Call me… text me when you get to the doctors… let me know what’s going on, please.” He whispered, his stress sky high, the first time in a while that he’s felt this way before a show and it wasn’t even due to going in front of thousands of fans that he felt this way. 

“I will…” You sighed softly, and even though he could see it in your eyes, in the way you sat on the couch, you were just as worried as he was, you still tried your best to ease his mind and comfort him. “It’s probably nothing though. I’m sure it’s normal. The doctors are probably gonna think I’m silly for coming in for something as small as this.” Your weak chuckle filled the otherwise silent room, but Felix couldn’t laugh with you, he was panicking, and the worst part was that he was on the complete other side of the world right now when he wanted nothing more than to be with you, especially right now. 

“I’m serious, angel… I don’t care if I’m in the middle of dancing. Call me, let me know what’s going on.” He said, more sternly now as the knocks came against his door letting him know time was up. “I love you, I love you so much… And I love our little nugget too. Be safe, okay? Promise me that you’ll be safe, that you’ll let me know.” 

Your head nodded quickly as you blew him a quick kiss. “I’ll text you, pinky promise. I love you more. Call me when you’re done.” You whispered, and he watched you through the phone, wishing that he could hold you, that he could kiss you, that one push of that little red button at the bottom of the screen wouldn’t make your face disappear from his view. The stupid tour was keeping him away from you, and while you tried to hide it from him, he knew that you wanted him there now, you needed him there more than anything right now. 

Felixs mind was completely overtaken by thoughts of you, thoughts of his child as he stood on stage. He couldn’t even focus on the choreography, his steps out of place and he constantly bumped into the other members who, in any other situation, would have gotten annoyed by his continuous mistakes, but they knew he was lost in his own mind, in his own worries about what was going on back at home. 

It took a while for him to even begin to calm down, but the lack of buzzing in his back pocket was, in a way, more comforting than it usually would be. Things were fine, that’s what he kept telling himself, what the guys kept telling him whenever they passed him on the stage. Back pats and intermittent hugs were common, trying to keep him from thinking too much about what was happening or what could be happening. 

What he didn’t know was that back at home in the small little room with the flowers and the smiley faces on the ceiling, you were curled up on the hospital bed, eyes bloodshot from crying as you held the last ultrasound picture you’d receive from this pregnancy that had abruptly ended with no real reason. 

You didn’t call, not yet, not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to deliver the news to him when you knew he was already worried about you, when you knew he was standing on stage in front of thousands of fans. If you told him, he’d definitely run off the stage just to talk to you, trying to find the next available flight to make it home. 

So no, you didn’t call him, but you shot him a quick text, hoping that he wouldn’t check it until after the concert was over. “I’m so sorry, Lixie… Nugget is gone…” Was all the text said, truthfully, you didn’t know how to put it. How were you supposed to tell him something so awful when he was thousands of miles away? All you wanted to do was be held by him and cry with him over the future that was snatched away from the both of you without any warning. 

The vibration in his pocket was something that he had been waiting for, his hand quickly reaching into the back of his jeans to pull it out, pretending that he was about to take a picture. The smile that had been on his face at the thought of the new ultrasound pictures he’d be receiving quickly faded when he read the message notification on his lock screen. 

It took everything, everything for him to not collapse in the middle of the stage right then and there, his eyes already brimming with tears as his arms fell limp at his sides. Fans continued to cheer, adrenaline and excitement emanating from all of them, but he was in his own bubble, his sad, dark cloud filled bubble that all of those joyous emotions bounced off of. 

“Felix?” Chan was the first to notice, rushing over to him and quickly pulling him off to the side of the stage, and it was only then, once out of the spotlight, that Felix allowed himself to crumble under the crashing wave of emotions that washed over him. “Wh-What happened? Talk to me, Felix.” 

But he could only shake his head as the tears rolled down his freckled cheeks, his mouth opened but no words coming out, only small gasps as a shaky hand held out his phone to the leader. What was he supposed to do now? He felt like a failure, he failed to be there for you, to be the boyfriend that would always stand beside you even during the hardest times. This was the worst time for both of you, yet you were going through it alone. 

At this point all the other members were staring at him, the entire venue had fallen silent as every one there focused their attention on the crying man that was just slightly out of view. “I-I don’t know what to do… hyung… What do I do?” Felix whimpered, glassy eyes staring up at the man who, for the first time, didn’t have much of a suggestion. Chan didn’t know how this felt, none of them did, none of the other guys had ever been through something like this, let alone so far away. 

“If you need to go home, then go home, Felix.” Was all Chan could offer, a firm hand planted on the younger man's shoulder. “Y/N needs you way more than we do right now, way more than STAY needs you…” And Felix knew that, the problem was that he didn’t know the first thing to do once he got home. Of course, he’d hold you and he’d tell you that it would be okay even though he’d know that both of you felt the complete opposite of okay. 

How was he even supposed to step foot inside of his home when it would just be a constant reminder of the child that he had already prepared for, a child that he loved so much before even seeing them, a child that had been stolen away from both him and you before either of you got to even meet them. How was he supposed to keep composed enough to even be there for you? 

Even if he didn’t decide to go home, he wouldn’t be able to continue performing. He couldn’t even pretend to be excited, let alone pretend to actually care about the show right now. You, the love of his life, were experiencing what he could only imagine to be the worst possible thing that you could ever have to go through, and there was no way in hell he’d leave you alone any longer than you needed to be. Sure, he didn’t know the first thing he’d say to you, he didn’t even know what to think for himself to calm his own emotions, but the least he could be is there. 

“STAY…” He whispered into the mic, not wanting them to worry if he just ran off stage without a word, and he didn’t want to put the weight on Chans or any of the other members shoulders. They’d have to finish the show, the rest of the tour without him, the least he could do is say goodbye and apologize. “There’s… some things… going on at home right now for me… And I need to get back home to help take care of them…” He choked out the words, his eyes glistening under the spotlight that was casted down on him. “I’m so sorry… I promise to make it up to you when I’m able to… But I need to go now.” 

There were a few sounds of disappointment coming from the crowd, but he knew that the fans, the real fans, would understand and they wouldn’t hold it against him. He didn’t even wait for the words of the other guys as he rushed off stage, fingers working quickly to undo the mic that he was wired with. Now that that was over with, you were the only thing on his mind. 

Tears fell down his face in the solitude of first class on the plane that carried him back home, and most of the flight he slept, unable to keep his eyes open once they got too puffy from crying. He felt like the dictionary definition of a train wreck right now, the makeup that had been put on him before the concert had yet to be cleanly removed, the small amount of eyeliner and eyeshadow blotchy under his eyes from wiping them too much. He didn’t care who might see him or the photos that would come out if any were taken. One day he’d tell the world about what happened, and that day they’d understand why he looked this way, but for now, their words would mean nothing to him, their reports were pointless and false. They could say anything they wanted, nothing would ever hurt him as much as the small two sentence text that he had gotten on stage. 

He knew that you’d be upset, he had, in some sense, prepared for that, but he couldn’t have possibly prepared himself enough for the heartbreaking image of you curled up on the couch, your arms wrapped around your stomach and your entire body shuddering from the lingering sniffles that came after your sobs. Your head slightly lifted at the sound of his entrance, both of your eyes bloodshot as they met from across the room. “I’m… I’m so sorry, angel…” He said softly as he made his way over to you, dropping down onto the floor beside you on the couch. You were surrounded with balled up tissues that had been used to cry into and wipe whatever tears clung to your cheeks. 

Seeing you from a distance had been heartbreaking, but now seeing you up close, the way your upper lip was raw and puffy from roughly wiping your nose, your hair dampened by the tears that fell into it, your eyes barely even able to open from how much you’ve cried… It was heart shattering, like the broken pieces that had been left over were now being stomped on and kicked around. “They d-don’t know… why… it h-happened…” You shakily said between shortened breaths, your lips chapped from your open mouthed breathing. “You… were s-so ex-excited… and… I’m s-sorry… Lix…” 

He quickly shushed you, his fingers quickly brushing away the loose strands of hair that clung to your forehead. “It’s not your fault… It’s not…” He cooed, leaning his forehead against yours as his hands moved down to cup your cheeks. “And I’m not going to leave you. I promise, I’m going to stay by your side no matter what…” It was a solid promise, one that he wasn’t going to break. If you wanted to stay on the couch the entire time, he’d stay seated on the floor beside you. If you wanted to lay in bed all day and be held by him, he’d do that if it meant that even the slightest bit of pain you were feeling right now would subside. 

This is why he’s here… It’s for you and solely for you, because even though the pain he’s feeling right now is bad, he can only imagine how much harder it was for you. You had been told the news while you were by yourself, you had to process those emotions on your own, and then you had to go back to the empty house and continue to process those emotions by yourself. You had been the one carrying the baby, and even if it was only for a short 3 months, you had already loved the baby. Felix had caught you on many occasions smiling to yourself as your hand absentmindedly circled over your stomach. Now it was empty, you were empty. He had left for tour, excitedly awaiting coming home and only having to wait 3 more months to meet his child, and now that child was just… gone. There was no family to look forward to, not any time soon, not anymore. Home is where his heart is, you are his heart, you had it entirely. He loved coming home usually… But right now, home is where hurt is, hurt and devastation and shattered dreams. 

[jolapeno]

see me in a vest

cod ghost x f!reader | ghost masterlist

Summary: “You gonna keep lurking in the corner like a ghoul?” Straightening his spine, he lets his narrowed eyes cut into you. Gliding them up and down your face—from the top of your hairline to your arched brow, to the lips twisted up into a smirk. “Hilarious.”

Warnings: Brief mentions of smut. Mentions of a wound, blood (Ghost's but he's obv fine). Flirting. Feelings. FWB to something - they're a mess, but yeah. And, maybe unedited writing? AN: I don't know if I'm on the Ghost train again, but I'm at the station. Wordcount: 3k (this was meant to be 500 words).

Eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. But lovely. God, so lovely — Hedonist Poet

It’s a sight watching you laugh, how it blooms like wildflowers in a wasteland. Your lips are parting around the sound—neck exposed. He can faintly spot the sight of bruises from when his hand last became your necklace.

He shouldn’t be looking your way. Most definitely not be thinking about how he wishes to press your cheek against the tiles of his shower. Ghost really can’t be considering how to ask you to come to his room tonight.

Even if it’s all he thinks.

His fingers brushing against his thumb, rolling and rolling as he tries not to grind his teeth or glare with any more intention.

All about to move his glare, try to find a spot on the table or the wall, but his eyes latch with yours.

The room silences, pausing. Just the two of you, breathing, living—blinking. Or, it feels like it does. Like some poetic bullshit from some film, a scene he’s sure you’ve tried to explain to him when you’ve attempted to fill the silence.

He thinks you smile. The edges of your lips twist further into your cheeks. But it never quite lands, never sticks.

Ghost shouldn’t be thinking about you. But all he does is think about you.

In another life, where he wasn’t dressed in scars or his belief in happiness and thereafter’s hadn’t been stripped from his remaining soul, Ghost suspects you’d be the one he’d want to keep around.

It’s the only reason he clenches his fist, watching you through the outer rim of his mask’s eye sockets and always watching, never intervening. Not even when soldiers below your rank let their eyes drift to your rear—or worse, from your face to your chest.

He lets them.

Allows them to ogle you because he knows they won’t ever be fortunate to see any more. Not just because he’d have their heads but because you’d turn them inside out before you’d even let them touch you. Plus, you ridicule them enough when you catch them—tongue all poison and razor sharp, a thing not to be messed with, something which barks as bad as it bites.

“You gonna keep lurking in the corner like a ghoul?”

Straightening his spine, he lets his narrowed eyes cut into you. Gliding them up and down your face—from the top of your hairline to your arched brow, to the lips twisted up into a smirk.

“Hilarious.”

Sighing, you roll your lips. “You gonna keep boiling everyone alive with your eyes whenever they talk to me?”

“I’m not.”

“For someone who has likely been required to lie for their work, your pretty awful at it.”

Grinding his teeth, he bites the inside of his cheek. Not wanting to rise, to give in—to fucking begin this tedious game of bickering. Instead, he allows a heavy breath to escape through his nose, long and slow, pushing the fabric out before it clings back to the tip of his nose.

Hoping you hear it, take note of it.

But from how you shift your stance, playing with your water bottle—crunching it in your grip—as you tap your boot against the floor, he doubts you have.

“You think too highly of yourself, princess.”

”Princess, ay?” you grin, far too wickedly to be innocent. “Thought you preferred seeing me in a vest, than a crown.”

Clamping his mouth shut, you take a sip of your water—letting the droplets hang on your lip, only wiping them from your chin at the last moment—a knowing look, all telling and haunted with lust and something else.

“Let’s walk.”

And, somehow, against all better judgement, he follows.

The first time it happened, your eyes had been shimmering. A softness to your features aided by alcohol bought by Price in celebration. It allows him to see his reflection in them—finding he’s all cold eyes. Around that though, he’s confronted with something stitched, carved, into the usually hardened expression he’d come to respect. Then it all shifted. A sound, one that was similar to how droplets of watercolour change a plain piece of paper, fills the air. It spreading shades in front of him that filled the scenery—the one the two of you were admiring as the others continued to be loud inside. Ghost can’t recall what he said, but he remembers what you’d said the moment you’d laughter had died: You’re funny for a skeleton. It was stupid. Foolish. Barely funny—in the grand scheme of things. But then, the building next to them had begun counting down, and you were looking at him—stars shimmering above the tips of the Siberian cypresses. There was just you, and him, and a crack of amber light across crisp, disturbed white snow. “Be rude to not kiss at New Year, wouldn’t it, Ghost?” ”Suppose so.”

You didn’t ask for his jacket immediately.

Even if he’d spotted you fighting off a shiver in your two’s awkward ‘walk’. No, you wait until the two of you are far past your usual building, and even then, you don’t ask. As usual, you pulled—tugged, and practically dragged it down his arms—until he surrendered it.

It was easier to bite back a groan. To look at you. Stick his pupils into your unbothered appearance. Allowing, instead, for his displeasure at your insistent but silent demand to show through his body language.

Not that you fucking care.

Chin all tipped up, meeting his stare boldly. Practically egging him on, pushing him, goading him.

Because you do that well. You like to push—not for a reaction, but to crack him.

Cause a break in him that you can slide through and make yourself at home. Somehow, against his better judgement—and usual practice—he lets you.

Each and every time.

Because even if he’d never admit it, he would—and could—go as far as to say he likes that you’re wrapping his jacket around your arms, head tilting up to look at the sky—observing how the stars are flickering. Because he rather enjoys seeing you coated in something of his.

Not possessively. Not because he needs some unhealthy confirmation that you want to be in something of his over anyone else. But because it's nice. A niceness he won’t ever admit. A confession that’ll never be spilt, not even under the most difficult of tortures. Not even if you sunk down on him, buried him inside you and refused to move until he did.

His resolve was stronger than that, something you’d learnt.

“Love it when the sky is clear,” you mumble.

Blinking, he looks up, realising the night looks so similar to the night in that small Canadian town.

When you’d offered to kiss him over his mask but eventually retrieved his lips—front sitting just under his nose, hands splayed across your lower back, pinning you flush to him. Because if he only had one chance to do it, he was going to milk it. Not that it was ever just that once, hence this—the two of you outside, close to an abandoned barrack under a flurry of stars and a half-gleaming moon.

He’s aware of the parallels.

How you’d been wearing his jacket that night, too. Albeit then because he’d given it to you when you’d come looking for him, rather than yanking it from his arms and burying yourself in it.

Ghost should mind.

Should find the idea unbearable, just like he should find you intolerable.

You sigh, not softly or sweetly, but difficulty and loud. “I don’t belong to you, Ghost.”

Ghost. Not the name you called him a few days ago when his fingers were curled inside you—his breath hot on your throat. Your pulse hammering against his tongue.

In a way, he thinks he should find you annoying, insufferable. Instead, he just finds you’re odd.

Odd in the sense that you stick around—not questioning his mannerisms or demands. That you fight everyone out there when sand tries to find places it shouldn’t, snow makes you shiver and blood stains skin—including him, on occasion.

But, when it’s the two of you, you bend so easily—all submissive, desperate. Mouth wrapping around his fingers, tongue swirling, before he’s so much as touched you.

It is why he snorts—and for a multitude of reasons.

Finger and thumb stroking his bare jaw, letting his eyes cast to the ground before looking in your direction. “Bet if I stick my fingers in your knickers, your cunt will say something different.”

You stare. Blank. Unreadable.

Something which makes his jaw tense, and his spine straighten. Because there aren’t many expressions he finds unbearable about you, except the unreadable one—the one you’re so skilled at pulling out across your face, hiding your thoughts and opinions.

He watches as you unfold your arms, displaying the hardest, squinted stare imaginable as your nose scrunched and your lips thin out. Leaving it there, hanging between the two of you—it not swaying as the seconds tick on, to the point he wonders if you genuinely expect him to be the one that cracks.

Then, you shift. You allow the lightest smirk to spread across your mouth into your perfect, soft, unscarred cheek. “Most likely. But, then again, on a base with a bunch of men, my underwear doesn’t tend to be dry.”

He has no retort, no initial thing to say.

So he says nothing.

Because everything he could say wouldn’t land in jest, would likely have his jacket thrown back in his face. And, the one good thing he has waiting (but not waiting) for him when he comes back—from fuck knows where—would be gone, vanished.

Not that he ever wanted this. Never mind needed it.

“Guessing that wasn’t the answer you wanted, Lieutenant?”

Keeping his mouth clamped, he remains silent. Lets it smother, wrap itself around the two of you and embed itself into the silence. Because no, that wasn’t the fucking answer he wanted.

There hadn’t been a reason as to why he knocked on your door, or why he had stuffed a nicer loo roll under his arm and brought you a bowl of soup. He could ration that you were a good solider, a solid member of his team. A reliable force that would get the job done. Someone who questioned and also obeyed. If needed, he could likely list a bunch more reasons why you were integral to whatever operation he was next sent on. But even he knew that wasn’t why he was outside your door. Why he turned the handle when you coughed and spluttered a weak ‘come in’. Whatever sight he’d expected, wasn’t close to what he saw. Your door closing behind him, your hand trying to cover your chapped lips as you splutter half a lung up, allowing him the chance to take in the rest of you. How your eyes were hollowed out by tiredness, your skin tacky and shining in the low light from a cracked curtain. ”D-did I miss a meeting or ‘sumthing?” Shaking his head, he placed the soup down by your bed���using the bowl to nudge several used tissues from its path, as he manoeuvred the roll from under his arm to hand it to you. Your eyes lighting, ever so slightly, by the softer—more nose-kind tissue. ”Jus’ came to check on you.” Blowing your nose, you offer a half smile. ”Because my aim is better than MacTavish’s?” Smirking, he watches as you shuffle over on your bed—allowing him room, something he takes without thought. In the same way he doesn’t need to think about lifting his mask now, how you’ve seen him—bruised, bloody, broken and so much more. An answer in itself as to why he’s here. One he could say with relative ease if the words would form. Instead, he throws his legs up—feels your eyes take him in as you try to clear your throat. “’cause you’re sick.” ”Oh.” And because I care. The latter not leaving his tongue, never mind his lips. Instead, he slides his arm around you, pulling you to lie in the crook of his arm and chest. Hoping that said enough. Explained it adequately. Incase it didn’t, he offered: ”Brought you soup, too.” ”Tomato?” Snorting, he rolled his eyes. “Chicken.” ”Guess that’ll do.” Your head tilting, staring up at him—and he hoped you couldn’t hear how loud his heart was hammering. Because even if this is what he wanted—to be there for you. To have you curled against him for reasons he couldn’t articulate, he hadn’t expected it. Even less the whispered, simple, ‘thank you, Simon’. Never mind that you barely finish the soup before you’re asleep against him.

Kicking at the ground, it’s a stone which pays the price for your annoyance with him. It rolls off, grating against gravel and grass before it came to a sad stop.

“What I was going to say,” you continue, huffing—in that way you do when you’re interrupted by lesser people and idiotic souls. “I don’t belong to you, but you don’t need to worry about every person who makes me laugh. I’m yours. Have been for a while.

“And before your strategic, get-out-alive brain begins firing on all fucking cylinders, I don’t… don’t need a declaration—didn’t need a menial question being asked to certify it. Don’t need you to tell me shit. I’m just telling you that I don’t—well—fuck around lightly.”

Lifting your arms, gesturing to you in his jacket—his clothing. Face pulling into an expression that makes him feel like he’s got a fucking egg on his face. As though he’s a fool, a fucking imbecile for not seeing what it was in front of him.

Maybe, he is.

Which is why he steps closer. Boots crunching gravel in the quiet, you stare at him—gazing through the cutouts and scorching your glare into him, scratching another line on his soul. Marking him. Like you have been doing since the first time he lost himself in your iris’s as your tongue curled out his name.

“I don’t… I don’t do this with others. What we do—is just what we do, Gh—”

“Simon,” he interrupts.

All sharp, like he’s stabbing you with his name, rather than handing it to you. Even if you’ve called it him before—you never have out here. Outside the confines of four walls, with your skin bare and his mouth latched to some part of your body.

“Jus’ mean, if y’gonna talk to me about it just being you and me, should at least call me my name.”

Slowly, you lower your arms, lips spreading into a line before they slide into a smile. “Simon. I don’t do this with other people.” Your eyes look up as you sigh. “Mainly because I don’t think anyone has a bigger cock than you.”

He brings you flush with him in one tug, watching your lips purse—a smirk attempting to grow behind it.

It’s more a grunt than a murmur how he tells you to ‘behave’, gloved fingers in the loops of your belt—a warped noise from the back of his throat beckoning to come out when your hand presses against his abdomen. Right against the clotted scarring of an old bullet wound—the one you’d pressed your palms into when he’d earned it—vermillion staining, clinging to your fingers and arm. Tears hanging from your lashes that you’d attempted to blink away, staring anywhere but at him.

Don’t die on me, Ghost. We’ve not done the wheelbarrow just yet.

When he’d been stitched and released, he finds your hand always goes there. A place you always seek, always find. You never touch his heart—never the thing that beats. You choose the pain embedded in tissue, the one he wonders if you hope to heal whenever you get the chance to brush your touch against it.

Rising on your toes, you roll your lips, softening your smirk into a smile. “It’s just you.”

“Because of my cock?”

He grips you tightly, not allowing you to descend to flat-footedness or move from being against him.

“Oh, a hundred percent. But you’re also a lot funnier than most people we meet, and I really like a man who makes me laugh.”

He pinches lightly—right on your side as you tip your head. “Y’know, don’t you?”

Ghost watches, waiting. Flicking from one of your eyes to the other.

And then you nod. “I know. Don’t worry, won’t make you tell me that you love my company as much as you do my tits just yet.”

He’s close enough for you to kiss the edge of his chin if he doesn’t move. But he does. Squeezing your hips, dropping his head enough, allowing your mouth to brush over his mask-covered lips.

It's enough for now, as you lower back to the ground. Feeling you turn in his hold—back to his chest and stomach as you wrap his jacket around you tighter.

Because he’ll kiss you better later.

A promise he makes silently, feeling your fingers take his, tugging his arm around you. He doesn’t need to see you to see that you’re smirking.

He can sense it.

AN: huge thank you to G. this wouldn't be possible without you nudging me, and making me accountable. dedicated to @theashfallx because she says she'll devour more of this man if I write it, so i had to finish it for her too.

[ssahotchnerr]

ok what about watching a scary movie that doesnt scare YOU but it scares the shit out aaron?😭 or at least creeps him out more than the murders he sees 24/7

keep the light on

AWWWW omg cw; horror movie details, poor aaron baby is uneasy </3

you reached over to switch off the light, but a sudden hand on your waist halts you.

"wait."

your hand stilled, fingers pulling back an inch or two but lingering within the vicinity of the lampshade. the abrupt stop caused your half of the comforter to dip downward off your body, your eyebrows furrowing in question as you peered behind at aaron.

"can you leave it on?"

"yeah," you fully pulled your hand away and turned your body, switching to your other side and supporting your weight on your elbow. this allowed you to have a clearer, better view of him. "is everything alright?"

"fine." aaron shrugged, a rather forced, nonchalant manner to his action, and in his voice. his head eased back against his pillow, searching for that comfortable spot. "just want it on tonight."

"okay." your fingers stroked through his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp gently. aaron leaned into your touch, his facial features relaxing at the contact; the small lines caused by uneasiness beginning to fade away.

the soft gesture also aided to him voicing his thoughts; safe and secure with you. but first, he stared at you, his brown eyes bordered with a hint of surprise.

confusion arose on your face. "what?"

"are you seriously not freaked out?"

"freaked out...?"

"the movie?"

"oh," you pondered, your fingers slowing as you did so. the horror film the two of you had just finished, not even an hour ago, was already long forgotten in your mind. it had been pretty standard - set in a small town, a psychotic killer on the hunt for victims, some paranormal elements to it. "i mean, not really. why, are you?"

you received a soft grunt in response, aaron now being the one to turn on his side, facing away from you.

"no!" you grabbed at his shoulder, eagerly attempting to readjust him but ultimately failing as he was much stronger than you. but after a bit of struggle, he assisted, easily succumbing and rolling back onto his back, his soft eyes gazing up at you. "are you?"

"a bit." he admitted, chuckling softly in embarrassment, despite not having a reason to be - especially not with you.

"aw," you laughed softly, a small, pitiful smile forming on your face. "i'm sorry love."

"it just..." he shivered vaguely in place, and you continued to run your fingers through his hair soothingly. "too realistic, believe me. that one scene, with the," his face scrunched a bit in disgust. "the gore, to put it simply. seen something like that before."

your face, and heart, dropped. "i'm sorry, i would've shut it off if-"

he moved his head, causing your hand to drop so he could kiss your palm. "i know. it's fine - i'm fine - really."

"are you positive?" your hand moved to his cheek, cupping it, the pad of your thumb grazing along the surface of his skin.

"completely." aaron nodded, the ends of his lips twitching into a barely there smile. his hand slid to your hip, giving it a gentle pat. "just keep the light on for me, please."

part of him still didn't sound like himself, nor was his current expression convincing at all, so you quickly decided to offer the usual, always successful reinforcement, "want me to get jack?"

jack had gone to bed hours ago, but it wasn't uncommon, in times of uneasiness, for one of you to retrieve him in the middle of the night to sleep soundly between the two of you. the close proximity, the added company, was the only thing needed, sometimes.

aaron quieted. an answer within itself.

you brushed his cowlicks away from his forehead, a kiss following afterwards. you kicked off the comforter, quickly getting out of bed. "gimme a sec."

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

I’ve Got You

Summary: Y/n always finds safety in Natashas arms, so it stands to reason that after she was injured in the Avengers fight with themselves that she would seek her out. This time though Natasha offers more than just safety, she offers Y/n her heart.

Warnings: some very slight angst, reader has a penis, sexual content(grinding, oral, fingering, handjob, vaginal sex) 

Word count: 5109        Nat Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist 

   Natasha sighs as anxiety consumes her once more. She's safe in her safehouse, well trailer, in Norway now but she still hasn’t heard anything about you since the fight in Germany and she's extremely worried for your safety. She wishes she at least knew your whereabouts. Knew if you were safe somewhere. Knew if you needed her help, or even just needed her like she needed you.

   You and Clint had been the ones sent to kill her, and she's forever grateful you both chose a different option. She was trained by you both to become a Shield agent, causing her to form a fast friendship with you both. Clint had become like the older brother, whether she wanted him to be or not. And you, well you had become her best friend. But she'd be lying if she said friendship was all she felt for you. You make her feel things no one ever has before, things she hopes you feel for her as well.

   She's never been great with feelings or emotions, the Red Room made sure of that, but with you she would be willing to try. If she could ever gain the courage to tell you so, that is. She wanted to tell you, she really did. But the fear of you not reciprocating those feelings, or of her not being good enough for you won out everytime.

   But now, after being on opposite sides during the accords, seeing you get beat up pretty badly by T’challa before almost getting captured by Ross’s men….She knows she has to tell you, because she can’t risk losing you like that again. 

   For now, as she waits to hear from Mason about any news of you, she settles in to watch her Bond films and eat her caviar. She tries to ignore the pit in her stomach, but without you by her side nothing seemed to feel right.

   She's brought out of her thoughts by a shuffling sound outside. She quickly arms herself with her pistol, standing to head to the door only for it to slowly open before she gets there.

   “I will shoot whoever walks in that door!” she calls out

   A familiar chuckle has her lowering her gun, “You wouldn’t shoot me, would you Natty?”

   “Y/n?”

   “You know anyone else that calls you Natty?” you tease as you open the door fully, allowing her to see you. She's shocked by your state, you look awful. Like you haven’t had rest since Germany, which was highly likely. You stumble into her living room and nearly collapse, but she catches you instead.

   “What happened? Are you ok?” she asks in quick succession as her worried eyes scan your face

  “Well, I didn’t really have a chance to tend to my wounds from T’challa before Ross’s men were on me. Managed to evade them for a bit but they almost got me the second time. I’ll be alright, just gotta clean up and get some rest” you tell her, attempting to pull away and stand on your own, but she can see how weak and tired you are

  Her hold on you tightens, “Let me help you, please”

  Too tired to pretend you can handle it yourself, you nod and let her lead you to the small bathroom. You sigh as she leans you against the counter, and you let your head rest against the wall as you rest your eyes. You can hear her rummage around for the first aid kit, a washcloth and some extra towels. Once she finds the items she gains your attention with a soft hand to your cheek.

   “Where are you hurt?”

  You shake your head, “Its ok, I can- ”

   “Y/n” she sternly says, “You can hardly stand. I’m helping you.”

   “Ok” you sigh. 

   You carefully remove your shirt, letting her see the bruises and scrapes that litter your abdomen and chest below your bra. Her eyes land on a hastily bandaged section of the right side of your abs, blood starting to seep through. You can see the concern etched in her brows. 

   “The Panther's claws.” you tell her and she nods

   She gently removes the bandages, causing you to hiss as the cool night air hits your wound. You watch as she runs the hot water, getting a washcloth damp before bringing it to your side. You grunt as she cleans it. She then pours alcohol on the same washcloth, bringing it to your skin once more. This time a gasp leaves you as pain ripples through your side. Again she cups your face to offer comfort.

   “Shh, detka(baby). It’s ok.” she coos, not even noticing the pet name slipping past her lips, “Now I just have to give you stitches, put ointment on, and then new waterproof bandages so you can shower.”

   You nod again, watching her grab the proper stitching materials. You clench your jaw as the needle pierces your skin repeatedly, closing up the four lacerations. You're relieved once she puts ointment on and it's rebandaged. “Thanks Tasha”

   “Of course, do you have any other injuries?” she asks, obviously still concerned about you

   “Yeah..” you sigh, “Left thigh. One of Ross’s guys was quick with his knife.”

   Her face shows even more concern, and she instinctively moves for your waistband. But then it hits her just how vulnerable this must all feel for you and she can’t help the blush that rises to her cheeks as she hesitates, “Can I…?"

  You chuckle, "Don't know how you'd stitch me up otherwise"

   She nods and proceeds to pull them down around your knee. The slice is caked in dried blood, a small trickle still running down your thigh. 

   “Shit, this looks pretty deep.” she exclaims, getting up to grab the washcloth

   She runs it under warm water again, watching you out of the corner of her eye as she does so. Your breathing seems normal, but you're definitely exhausted. You need rest, food, and plenty of water. She's determined to give you all those things and won’t take no for an answer. She won’t let you give an excuse about how the team being separate will be safer and how you only came to her because you knew she'd have the supplies you needed to tend your wounds. Not that she thought you'd say that, but the fear of you leaving now that you were here with her was immense.

   You grunt as she presses the cloth over your wound. She's careful, yet tentative enough to get most of the dried blood off you. She rinses the cloth out, pouring alcohol on it before approaching you again. Her eyes rake over your body once more, just to make sure you aren't hiding anything from her and she's glad you're too tired to have your eyes open, otherwise you would have seen her blush when the slight bulge at the front of your boxers caught her gaze. She quickly refocused on the task at hand, pressing the cloth against your thigh again.

   “Fuck!” you shout, not expecting it to burn worse than your side had

   Natashas apologetic eyes meet yours, “I know. I’m so sorry, it'll be over soon.”

    Her free hand instinctively rests on your abdomen as she rubs soothing circles on your skin. You nod, knowing it has to be cleaned no matter how much pain that brings. She removes the cloth and grabs the equipment for stitching you up once more. You clench your jaw as she works to close up the wound. Her soft hands remain on your thigh a few seconds longer than necessary after she bandages you up, not that you mind.

   “There. That should do for now, but I’ll need to redress them again tomorrow.” she says as she stands, “Are you going to need help?”

   “I can manage” you tell her, not believing it entirely yourself but you knew that if you were ever privileged to see Natasha naked, you didn’t want it to be because you needed help while injured. 

  She nods, “Alright, I’ll leave you some clothes on the counter and I’ll be in the next room in case you need me”

   You let your shoulders slump as she closes the door and you take a shaky step towards the shower. Eventually you manage to get your bra and boxers off and you step into the already running hot water. You let yourself relax, holding yourself up by leaning against the cool tiles. The door opens and you tense up slightly before remembering it was just Nat with your clothes. 

   You don’t realize she lingers a moment, wishing to check on you and longing to be able to join you. She decides against asking if you were alright, not wanting to come across as overly concerned, even though she was. She simply sets your outfit down before exiting the room once more. She takes a seat on the edge of her bed and waits as her leg bounces with anxiety. Part of her wants to tell you how she feels, to hold you and never let go. But the other part screams at her about love being a weakness, about how you deserve someone with a less bloodstained ledger and hard to escape past.

   She's brought from her thoughts when you emerge from the bathroom, a slight wobble to your step. She has to resist smiling like the lovesick woman she is when she sees you in her sweatpants and shirt.

   “You alright?”

   “Yeah. Just tired.” you reply, not wanting to tell her you couldn’t remember when your last meal was. She always has been good at calling your bluffs though, she was a trained spy afterall.

   She smirks, “Want some take out? I've got plenty of leftovers from earlier.”

   You sigh, “Yes please.”

   “Come on, we can sit on the couch and watch something as we eat.” 

   “What Bond film did I interrupt?” you ask with a chuckle

   She scoffs, pretending to be annoyed that you knew her so well, “Moonraker”

   “Not one of the best ones, but not one of the worst ones either.” you reply, earning yourself an eye roll from her.

   You sit on the couch and soon she joins you, takeout containers in hand. She doesn't say anything as she watches you scarf down the food, she only smiles knowing that she's able to take care of you. You sit back with a hum as you absentmindedly scoot closer to her, seeking out comfort and warmth. It isn’t long before you end up falling asleep tucked into her side with your head on her shoulder. 

   Carefully she turns, bringing you into her chest as she lays back, her arms wrap protectively around you as your head now rests on her chest. She watches you for a bit, wanting to make sure you were sound asleep before she places a soft kiss to the top of your head.

   “I’m so glad you're safe” she whispers into your hairline

 She isn't aware of when she fell asleep and she isn't aware as to why she's suddenly woken up, until she realizes she no longer feels the weight of you on top of her. She immediately sits up, and when she doesn't see you anywhere she can feel her panic build. 

   “Y/n?” she calls out as she enters the bedroom. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she'd been holding when she sees you emerge from the bathroom

   “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you tell her, “I just needed some pain killers���

   She shakes her head, “It’s ok, did you find them?”

   “Yeah, I got them.” your brows furrow as you notice her disheveled state, “What's wrong?”

   “Nothing, I just…” she trails off, but your hand on her shoulder encourages her to continue, “I was worried that you left.”

  Her admission was quiet but you heard it, and there was no mistaking the vulnerability in her voice. It tugged at your heart. “I’d never leave without saying goodbye first Natty. Besides, I’m much too injured to travel right now. I’m lucky I made it to Norway.”

  “Don’t say that” she says, taking a seat on the bed

   “Tasha, I was bleeding profusely on the airplane runway, which led Ross’s men right to me. I had to fight them off and flee while patching myself up as well as I could. Then once I thought I’d lost them, they ambushed me in Serbia and nearly sliced my artery open. You were my only safe option, if I hadn’t found you…well it wouldn’t have been good” you reason with her

   Her jaw clenches as she looks away from you. She fights back the tears in her eyes, not liking how close of a call you had actually had, “I should have helped you. I shouldn't have talked with Tony and then ran, I should have just gone to you and ran with you.”

  “It’s ok, you- ” you try

   “No Y/n” she takes a deep breath, “I saw that you were hurt fighting T’challa, and still I went to help Steve instead. Ross could have had you arrested or worse, and instead of making sure you were safe, I saved my own ass.”

   You sigh and take a seat beside her. You gently grab her hand, “You couldn’t have risked helping me and you know it. You double crossed Tony and Ross and we both know neither of their egos would allow that to go unpunished. They would have used your background against you”

   “I don’t care. You could have died, and I never would have forgiven myself” she admits

   “But I didn’t.” you remind her, “I didn’t die. I’m ok.” She finally looks at you and you can see the unshed tears in her eyes. You smile softly, cupping her face and bringing your forehead to hers, “I’m right here.”

   She nods as a few tears finally slip down her cheeks, “I was really worried about you. I’m glad you found me”

   “So am I” you admit, “Though, it’s more like Mason found me, then told me where you were.”

   She chuckles, “Well, I’ll be sure to thank him. Even if he did give me Fanny as an alias.”

   “He didn’t!” you laugh out

   “Oh he did. Fanny Longbottom.”

   The two of you erupt into laughter as you think about the ridiculous name. Her gaze shifts to you smile, the one she's always loved to be the cause of and your gaze shifts to her eyes, you have always loved how they seemed to sparkle when she was happy. 

  Lost in her eyes, you don’t notice how you've begun to lean into her, you only notice when your lips lightly press against hers. But you quickly pull away, afraid she wouldn’t reciprocate the gesture or would be upset with your advances. However your attempt to move away is quickly stopped by her arms as they wrap around your neck to keep you close.

   “No, please” she rasps out, her hands tangling in your hair, “Please kiss me”

   You surge forward, connecting your lips once more as your hands grip at her waist. She hums and gently straddles your lap, careful of your injured leg as she grinds down against you. Your hands make their way under the back of her shirt, traveling up her back and leaving chills in their wake. She moans, allowing you to slip your tongue inside her mouth. 

   She grinds down again, and this time she can feel how the bulge in your pants is beginning to harden as it presses against her ass. You can’t help the moan that leaves you as you feel her against you. Her excitement and hope for finally getting to be with you grows the longer you keep your lips on hers. 

   She pulls away, nearling panting for air as she grinds down once more. And your mouth moves to her neck as your hands go further up her back. She relishes the groan she feels against her skin when you realize she's already braless and she shudders as your hands move to the front of her, gently running up her abdomen before palming her breasts. You can feel her breathing quicken as your thumb skims over her hardened nipples. She grinds against you again and you squeeze the soft mounds in your grip causing her to moan.

   “Is this ok?” you breathe against her neck between kisses

   She eagerly nods, “Yes…please don’t stop”

   You move back up her neck, kissing her softly as your hands grab the bottom of her shirt. You pull it off her and nearly forget how to breathe when you see her naked upper body in front of you. Yes you'd seen her in tank tops before for training and immaculate dresses for parties, but this was entirely different. Before you had to admire subtly from across dancefloors and training mats. You didn’t have to do that now, she wanted you to see her. All of her.

   Natasha shys under your gaze, finding herself somewhat nervous as your eyes take in every inch of her. Some of her scars had never been seen by anyone other than her and those that inflicted them or stitched them up and she worried what you would think of them. Your thumb gently traces a longer scar that rests slightly lower than her breasts near her sternum causing her to realize how badly she wants your hands back on her. She's about to ask you to touch her again like you were earlier, but then your head is moving towards her chest and as your lips touch her skin she finds it very hard to form words.

   "Y/n…" she whispers, clutching at your forearms to ground herself

   You hum, briefly pulling yourself away from her chest, “You're so beautiful Natty”

     A shy smile makes its way across her face, accompanied by a light blush and the way she squeezes her thighs together does not go unnoticed by you. You gently kiss the scar again before moving over to one of her breasts. You suck her hardened nipple into your mouth causing her hands to grasp at your shoulders as she arches into you. Your hands move to squeeze her ass as your mouth moves to give her other breast the same attention. She moans when she feels your hardened cock rubbing against her, and she finds herself desperate to feel you inside her. She can feel her arousal dripping from her and she knows her panties are ruined.

   “I want you, detka(baby). Need you so badly, please” she whispers against your lips as they meet hers for another kiss. Your heart pounds in your chest as you quickly remove her from your lap and lean her against the beds pillows and headboard

    You stare at her for a moment, taking in the way her lips are slightly parted and her chest heaves as she breathes deeply. Then you meet her gaze, “Are you sure?”

   “Yes” she nods, “I’ve never been more sure about anything, or anyone”

   You smile before connecting your lips to hers again, letting your hands trail down to her hips before moving them back up to cup her breasts. She desperately clutches at your shirt, overcome with the urge to have you as close as possible despite already having you there. Your hands make their way back down to her hips and your fingers slip below the waistband, ready to pull them down completely. But before you can do so her hands grab your wrists and she pulls away from your lips. She pauses for a moment, her eyes scanning your face.

   “You're sure about this too, right?” she asks, insecurity lacing her tone

   “Of course I am. I only want you.”

   She smiles widely, letting go of your wrists so you can continue to pull her pants from her body, and you stare in amazement at the wet patch that you find on her underwear. She shifts slightly under your gaze, wordlessly trying to hasten your movements.

   “You're soaked” you whisper as you let your thumb press the damp fabric against her clit, making her hips jump, “And so sensitive”

   She lets out a breathy moan as you rub your thumb in slow circles and her grip on your shirt tightens, “Need more. Please detka(baby)”

   “Aww, is my thumb not enough for my needy girl?”

   She shakes her head, “No, need your cock please. Wanna feel you”

   “Fuck baby…I wanna feel you too, but I gotta get you ready for me first.” you explain as you finally pull her underwear off her. She automatically spreads her legs further apart for you and you praise her by caressing her thigh, “Gonna taste you first though”

   Her breath catches in her throat as you lean in, your tongue kitten licking her sensitive nub before parting her open and slipping inside, “Ooh!”

  You hum, enjoying the flavor of her and her hands grip onto your hair tightly, practically forcing you to bury your face in her cunt. Not that you would complain about such a thing, you’d gladly give her whatever she wanted. Which is why you slip a finger inside her too. You pump your digit in and out of her at a steady rhythm as your mouth focuses on her clit until she's nearly dripping onto the sheets. Then you slip a second one in. She moans at the stretch, arching into you

   “That's it. You're taking my fingers so well baby.” you praise, curling them inside her making her walls clamp down around you, “Does it feel good, Natty?”

   “Blyad'(fuck)! Yes!” she answers, fists tightening in the sheets

   You hum, “You like having my fingers inside you?”

   “Oh god yes!” she's cut off by her own moan as you move your fingers even faster, “I’m…I’m gonna- ”

   “Go ahead baby, cum for me”

   “Y/n!” she shouts as she cums into your mouth. You happily swallow it all and continue your mouths and fingers movements to help her ride out her high, only stopping when her grip on your hair lessens and she whimpers in protest

   You crawl back up her body, placing soft kisses against a few scars before reaching her lips once more. She sighs as you rest against her and wraps her arms around your neck as you make out. Eventually her hands begin to tug at your shirt and you separate to allow her to pull it off you. 

   You chuckle as she simply stares at your chest licking her lips, and you move one of her hands to your breasts, “You can touch”

   That's all the encouragement she needs and she brings her other hand to your other breast, letting her thumbs rub against your nipples as they harden in the cool air. She brings her mouth forward and latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on it as her hand pinches the other and you moan at the sensation

   Wanting to make you feel just as good as you’d made her feel minutes ago she lets her free hand wander down between your bodies, and you're so focused on the feeling of her mouth as it makes its way up to your neck that you don’t even notice her hand slip your pants and boxers down, freeing your cock, until her lithe fingers are wrapping around you. 

   “Shit Y/n” she mumbles as she slowly begins stroking you, your size surprising her slightly. Your hips jerk forward at the sensation and it doesn’t take her long to find a decent pace, your breathy moans and grunts only encouraging her

   “Just like that baby, feels so good” you grunt, resting your forehead against her collarbone

   “Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” she asks, rubbing her thumb against the large vein on your shaft

   You rut into her hand, “Fuck! Yes!” 

   “Come on detka(baby), cum”

   Spurts of white hit your stomach and hers as you release and the way you moan has arousal pooling in her belly once more. After a few more strokes she lets you go and you practically collapse against her as you regain your composure. Her hand comes into view, a few drops of your cum on it still, and you watch as she cleans them off with her tongue. That action alone has you getting hard again and she smirks when she feels it.

   “You like watching me taste you?”

   “You don’t even know” you groan out, moving positions to be above her once more, “You ready for me baby?”

   She nods, “God yes, please”

   You line yourself up with her entrance and smack the head of your dick against her clit a few times before sliding inside. You bottom out in one swift movement and a guttural moan leaves her at the feeling of being stretched so wide. She's even tighter than you thought she'd be and the way she's squeezing you already has you light headed, so you still for a moment to allow you both to adjust.

   After a few minutes she wiggles her hips slightly, her green eyes boring into yours, “Please move now. I can handle it, I promise”

   You smile and kiss her softly before slowly beginning to thrust your hips. Her tits bounce as you move and you can’t help but lean down to suck marks against their plump flesh. Her moans only increase in frequency and volume as your pace picks up and her hands grip onto you so tightly that you know her nails will be leaving marks behind.

   “Your pussy fits me so well baby. Feels incredible” you praise, cupping one of her breasts and squeezing

  “O bozhe(Oh god).” she manages to get out between her moans, “I’ve never been so full, feels so fucking good”

  “Gonna be even more full when I cum inside you” You tell her, moaning as her walls flutter around you, “Oh you like that huh?”

   She nods, “Yes, please cum inside me detka(baby)”

   You start pounding into her even harder then, eager to give her what you both so desperately want. After a few more thrusts she wraps her legs around you, and you can feel by the way she tightens around you that she's close.

   “That's it baby, make a mess on my cock”

   She throws her head back with a moan of your name as she cums hard around you, sending you head first into your own orgasm. You moan as you paint her walls white with your seed. You continue to thrust your hips to prolong the pleasure for both of you only stopping when she's a shaking mess beneath you. 

    “Shh it's ok Natty I got you.” you coo, stroking her cheek, “You did so well baby. Such a good girl”

   “Your good girl” she mumbles with a smile, making your chest fill with warmth

   You nod and bring your forehead to rest against hers, “My good girl”

   After a few more minutes you slowly pull out of her, watching a bit of you cum leak out of her as you do and she's struck by how full she still feels. She can’t even imagine how much cum you pumped inside of her for that to be the case. The thought alone has her head all fuzzy.

   “Come on, let's get cleaned up in the shower really quick. Then we can go back to sleep”

   She nods and allows you to help her out of bed. You help her stumble to the bathroom and can’t help but giggle at the look of bliss on her face still and she quiets you with a kiss before letting you turn the water on. You both help clean the other, each feeling a sense of pride at the marks you’ve left behind on the other and even after you're done washing you stay a while longer just basking in the other's presence.

   Neither of you bother to put on another outfit after you dry off, the likelihood of them coming off in the morning is high so why bother. Instead you simply crawl into bed and under the warm covers. You open your arms for her and she immediately settles against you. She wraps her arms around you and buries her face against your neck. It's silent for a while, and for a few minutes there you think she's asleep, until she moves to look at you properly.

   “You're staying, right?” The insecurity in her tone nearly breaks your heart, but before you can answer she continues, “I mean I know Steve said we’re all safer apart from each other, but that's bullshit because there's nowhere I’m safer than with you, and I…I just got you back. I just got to be with you. I’m not ready to say goodbye”

  You softly kiss the small scar on her left shoulder before kissing her lips, “My Natty. So brave, so strong. You're not alone anymore, I’ve got you. And I’m not leaving your side. Not now, not ever. Not even if you told me to.”

   Tears build in her eyes as she lets your words settle over her. She didn’t have to be alone, didn’t have to build walls and hide emotions just to survive. She could be fully herself with you, she could be free. She could let herself be loved, let herself be happy. It wouldn't be easy and there were sure to be hard days, but she finally felt like she could do it. As long as she had you.

   Her hands cup your face, “I….I love you” Your eyes widen at her admission. Even if she ever felt the same for you, you didn’t expect her to allow herself to be vulnerable enough to say it. Especially so soon. 

   She bites her bottom lip and her stomach flips as she waits for your response, thankfully it's a short wait. “I love you too, Natasha. More than anything.”

   Her lips crash into yours and you each poor out your emotions for the other into it. You aren’t sure how long it lasts, you were too lost in her to think of anything else, but when she pulls away she stays close enough that her nose is brushing against yours. You smile at each other before the most adorable carefree giggle leaves the redhead in your embrace.

   You give her a quizzical look so she elaborates on her giddiness, “Madame B was wrong. I do have a place in this world. My place is with you.”

   “Yes it is baby, yes it is”

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[jangofettjamz]

Unlovable Child

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Warnings: Child abuse

2nd Person POV

"I'm going out of town for a week to see my parents" you tell Jenna. The two of you were snuggled up together on the couch, binge watching The Mandalorian on Disney+.

"Oh, do you want some company?" Jenna offered to which you shook your head no. Your parents wasn't exactly the gold standard when it comes to parenting, in fact they'd probably win an award as being one of the worst.

You've never discussed your parents with Jenna because of this, not wanting her to be involved with them due to their toxic nature. You feared that exposing them to her would only cause more trouble than its worth.

"You sure you don't want me to come with? I can--"

"No no you really don't have to" you said, cutting her off a little too quickly to go unnoticed. She gave you a look of suspicion, knowing there was likely some underlying tension between your parents and you.

You tried to put her at ease "I-I mean... they haven't seen me for a while... I wouldn't want to overwhelm them by introducing you to them... y'know given your fame and all. No offence"

Your stuttering and lack of a believable reason wasn't enough to ease Jenna's growing concern for you, but she smiled anyway, which in turn made you smile. You knew she wasn't convinced.

She pulled you in closer, making sure you were nestled into her chest. She had a feeling deep down that you were keeping something from; something terrible. Anxiousness flooded her nervous system, making her rethink about letting you go.

Her heartbeat quickened because of this, something you caught by having your head on her chest. "Jenna? Are you okay?" You asked.

She looked at you and smiled to put you at ease "Everything's fine, sweet boy. Everything's okay." She reassured, kissing your forehead to ease your worries.

But it wasn't her you were worried about, it was meeting your parents for the first time in years. The last time you spoke to your parents was 2 years prior, just before you moved out for your new job, just before you met Jenna for the first time. It didn't exactly end on the greatest of terms.

You parents were vile; abelists who took pleasure in calling you the most horrid of insults for their own sick pleasure. It made them feel better about themselves, like they were superior. They were never proud of you, even though your academics should make them so. They could never be proud of someone like you, someone who was autistic.

Of course, with many dysfunctional households come with their fair share of physical abuse, which in your case was fairly common place. The slightest of mistakes ended in severe punishment, that being knocking a drink over, talking to loudly .etc.

You were deemed a failure in the eyes of your parents despite everything you've accomplished in school, your well paying job; it meant nothing. You were never good enough for them. You were simply too much of a "spaz" to love. You were nothing to them, only when money was an issue were you of any use.

You held Jenna a little tighter just think about this. Painful memories from your past flashed through your mind, reminding you of the awful people they were.

But you maybe they had changed, maybe they realised the error of their ways, you naively thought to yourself, only setting yourself up for a meeting that would inevitably send you crashing down.

But you had to believe. "They have changed. Of course they changed, they only said and did all that stuff to make me into the man I am today. They love me. Don't they?"

- 1 day later

Jenna was on the phone with her director discussing filming dates. She was currently working multiple films at once and needed to negotiate dates so that it wouldn't impede on her schedule.

You always admired how she could do so many films at once, though, you wished she would take a break sometimes as it can tire her out.

Jenna's phone call was immediately interrupted by the sound of the door opening revealing your figure. "Mark I'm gonna have to call you back" she hangs up the phone, confused as to why you were back 6 days earlier than anticipated.

You were wearing sunglasses, unusual considering the weather outside was quite gloomy. Perhaps you just felt like wearing them, she thought to herself.

"Hi, baby boy." She kisses your cheek, but noticed that it looked awfully red and... swollen? "You're back early. Did everything go okay down there?" Jenna asked to which you nodded with a smile, albeit a dishonest smile.

"Yeah everything went great, just gad to cut the trip short because they were busy and stuff. My parents are busy people after all" you say in a somewhat cheery tone. The swollen part of your face was pulsing, as though the nerve endings in your face had been set alight.

Jenna continued to examine your face, still finding it strange that you haven't taken off your shades yet. "Wait, he wasn't even wearing shades when he left. Why was he wearing them now?" She thought, trying to ascertain the situation.

She noticed your hands were shaking; odd considering you were always calm around her most of the time and it wasn't cold indoors because of the heating. One of your arms was holding your stomach too.

All this information, combined with the fact that your back 6 days ahead of schedule is enough to tell Jenna that something was very very wrong.

"Hey babe can you take off those glasses for me? I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." She asked sweetly, forceful was not the right approach. You looked at her, trying to strum up a lame excuse not to oblige.

"No!" He exclaims, catching Jenna off guard. You quickly try to come up with a better excuse. "I mean i-it's really bright in here Jenna, my eyes are kinda tired from driving, y'know" you play off terribly, adding a smile to try and convince otherwise.

Jenna isn't buying it, you know this. She's too smart. "Y/N your face is bright red, and swollen" His smile quickly drops. "Your hands are shaking too, and I can see a cut behind your hair. You and I both know it isn't cold in here and that cut is recent too." She exhales sadly, turning her attention too your stomach "You're holding you're stomach babe, like you're in pain. What happened over there?"

You panic, you knew she wasn't an idiot but you can't bare to let her find out about your parents, about your past. It was too embarrassing, she'd surely leave you for not being man enough to fight back. That what your father had conditioned you to believe, that you weren't a real man because of your condition, that you were sub-human.

"I-I d-dont--" "let me see your eyes, my love" bowing your head in defeat, you allowed Jenna to remove your shades, the sight horrified her, sending shivers down to the deepest depths of her soul. She gasped, her hands covering her mouth as you she saw the damage.

A massive purple bruise covered your right eye, the eye itself was completely red. The area around the eye was completely swollen too. The left eye was also bruised, not as bad but still bruised nonetheless.

Anger bubbled within Jenna, the prospect of someone hurting her baby was sickening to her, she knoew this had to be your parent's doing. "They did this to you, didn't they"

"W-what no! They would never do this to me. My family love me, Jenna. They do" you tried convince her, you tried to convince yourself mostly. Tears pricked at your eyes, stinging even more due to the beating you took.

"Honey... why would they do this to you? What happened?" She asked gently with a tinge of sadness in her tone. You couldn't keep up with the lie any longer.

You took a deep breath. You wanted to tell her what happened, tell her about the desperation you felt when your father's belt connected with your back. How your mother held you down as he did it, beating and beating and beating you for being the spaz who disappointed his parents just by looking at him. She held your hands "It's okay. It's just me. Just Jenna"

A single tear fell down your cheek causing Jenna to wipe it away. "They wanted money..." you started, taking a deep breath before continuing "They wanted money that were apparently "owed" for not getting rid of me. I said no, and I'm sure you can imagine how they reacted to that. They beat me, Jenna. They both did. I couldn't stop them, I tried as hard as I could but they kept..." you sniffled, holding back what would have been a giant sob.

"They kept pummelling me with the belt, punching me in the stomach. Mom held me down and I couldn't anything. They said I was unlovable... I'm unlovable, Jenna!" He broke down completely, falling onto his knees. Your emotions that you'd been holding since you left your parents had escaped, the dull pain now fresh again.

Jenna lifted the back of your shirt to find the purple lashes that layed there, where your father had taken out his anger with the belt. She immediately held you, her own eyes tearing up at your broken state. You clung to her like a lifeline.

"Shhhh, its okay baby. You're safe now. You're safe with me again." He whales in anguish and pain, his sobs became louder as each one left his mouth.

"Jen it hurts" you said like a scared child, exactly what you were at your parent's house.

Upon hearing this Jenna decided it was best for you to lay down on your side to avoid laying on your lashed back. "Come on, honey let's lay you on the couch. Lay on your side for me, my sweet." You did as instructed.

She lifted up your top to see the bruises on your stomach, purple and still fresh. She was going to annihilate your parents, but that comes later. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack, then we're taking you to the hospital"

"No! No! Please no doctors!" You pleaded

She knelt down and stroked your hair to out you at ease as best she could "Shh shh shh, don't think about that now okay. Let me go get an ice pack for your stomach. I'll be right back." She left quickly for the ice, returning as quickly as she left.

She lifted up your shirt and let you get ready for the ice. "On three. One. Two. Three." She presses the ice to your abdomen, the cooling sensation soothed the pain little by little bringing you great relief. "Good boy baby, you being so brave for me" she cooed, kissing the top of his head.

She held the ice pack as you writhed in pain on the couch. Her free hand alternates between rubbing your arm and combing through your hair. She placed little kisses on your swollen cheek, not hurting at all when she did.

The recollection of events that played in your mind caused you to cry again. Jenna brought your head into her neck as she held you close, her skin absorbing most of the tears. "Oh baby, please don't cry. You're not unlovable. You're my very beautiful boy who I love so very very much. They don't deserve you."

You held onto her tight, thinking how lucky you were to have such a wonderful woman in your life. Your parents would've definitely said you didn't deserve her, and maybe you didn't. But that didn't detract from how much you loved her, and appreciated her.

"I love you, Y/N. I love you with every fibre of my being" hearing this made you smile out of pure gratitude and love.

"I love you too, Jenna" you say, voice still wobbly from crying. You pulled your head from the crook of her neck and the two of you just smile at each other, you took in the beauty of her face while Jenna gazed upon your battered one. She pulls you in for a gentle kiss, a long kiss that you desperately needed.

"Bubs we do need to get your tummy looked at. We'll call my mom to have a look at you, but we may need to go to the hospital if it's bad. We can do all that tomorrow though, just rest in my arms for now. Can you do that for me?" You nodded your head "I won't let them get away with this Y/N. Mark my words they're finished."

You'd never seen Jenna this angry, but it brought a strange sense of reassurance, like everything was going to be okay. "Can we watch a movie? I wanna take my mind off of this"

"Of course we can, bubs. What do you wanna watch? Empire strikes back?" She asked, knowing how much you loved that movie. You nodded making her smile and kiss you again.

She layed down next to you, inviting you to curl up next to her and lay your head on her chest. "You're not unlovable, flower. You're a very loveable and amazing person." You smile at her words, Jenna loved you very much and today was evidence of that.

She cradles your body in her arms, still feeling you tremble from everything that has happened. It would be a long road to you heal from this but she'd be with you the whole way there.

She gently rocks you while you watch the film, the sight of Darth Vader igniting your child-like love that Jenna adored.

"Hey bubs, promise you'll never think yourself as unlovable. Promise me that my love."

"I promise." You say, even though you still didn't fully believe it. Your parents words still hurt.

"Good boy. My special beautiful boy"

[hauntedestheart]

Security Footage - Body Swaps (Part 1)

One of Trevor & Andy’s misadventures, a more detailed account of the sort described in Security Measures - Body Swaps

While the university claimed it was supportive of its professors doing independent research and experimentation, Professor Bernard Smith of the Humanities department suspected that "using ancient magics to take the form of one of his students" was a proposal that likely wouldn't make it past the review committee, so he kept his activities on that project private.

He thought of the past twenty years he'd given to academia and heaved a melancholy sigh- society didn’t really put much consideration to how emotionally taxing it was to be a college professor. Every day, year after year, he stood at the front of a classroom and looked out upon a sea of smiling youths hopeful for a bright future that he had already resigned himself against; he aged, but his classes never did. Every rakish young man was a reminder of who he’d never be, and beautiful young woman was a reminder of what he would never have.

After all, the clock only moved one way.

Or, he glanced down at the ritual items he'd assembled before him. Maybe there's a miracle waiting for me.

He lit a candle and the changes began.

🔀

Once it became clear that Andy's… situation wasn't going away, moving in together had just made sense, but in the back of Trevor's mind he had been worried about it. Old habits are hard to unlearn and he hadn't yet shaken the niggling doubt that if they spent too much together and the novelty of the relationship wore off, Andy would realize that he could probably find someone better and leave Trevor hanging for a second time.

Reality was much kinder though, and living together actually brought the two boys closer than ever. Between school, attempts at a social life, and their constant misadventures, their small apartment became a sanctuary where it could be just them and no one else.

Trevor grabbed his bowl of tortilla chips and made his way from the kitchen to the living room, where Andy was sprawled out on the couch clicking through options on the television. Andy gave a little wolf whistle at the sight of his boyfriend bending over to put the bowl on the table, which made Trevor roll his eyes, and he picked up a chip from the bowl and flicked it towards Andy's face.

The throw fell short and bounced off of Andy's chin, dropping down and settling atop the boy's pronounced bosom; he plucked it up and tossed it in the air. Trevor watched with mild bemusement as Andy actually caught it with his mouth then squinted his eyes shut while he chewed, scrunching his forehead up as if he were deep in thought.

"Mmm, I'm detecting notes of salt… a hint of corn… is this gourmet? It must be," Andy smirked up at Trevor then leaned forwards and grabbed another chip, popping it into his mouth with a crunch. "This is why I got man who can cook. I would starve without you."

He threw Trevor a wink and a smile, which Trevor responded to with an eye-roll and a smile of his own. Andy scooted back on the sofa and spread his legs, patting at the empty space in front of him, and Trevor slipped in to claim his spot; the larger boy wrapped his arm around the smaller boy's midsection and placed an absent kiss on his head before returning his attention to the tv.

"Is this what you picked for tonight?" Trevor asked, referring to the film queued up on the screen- some sort of anime movie he didn't recognize but vaguely recalled Andy mentioning before. He tilted his head up so he could see Andy's face above him. "Have you seen it before?"

"I have, but I want you to see it too," Andy smiled down at his boyfriend before giving a mischievious chuckle. "It's awful, you're gonna love it."

Watching bad movies had become something of a "thing" for the two boys as Andy (for some reason) thought Trevor's dry observations were hilarious, and if Andy was introducing the movie as awful, Trevor knew he was in for a good time.

As Andy clicked play, Trevor snuggled in closer to him and gave a contented sigh. His muscular boyfriend boy liked to joke that he worked out so much so he could give better hugs, and when those strong arms were wrapped around him, Trevor could believe it. Being with Andy had made him appreciate being on the smaller side for a guy because it meant they fit together perfectly, and Andy's broad physique made for an incredible pillow.

He leaned back and rested his head on Andy's firm pecs, relaxing as he felt the young man's belly pushing outwards against his back while they- wait.

Trevor bolted upright and looked over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions- Andy's body was changing, and from the expression of shock on his face, he was well aware of it. Surprised, Trevor slipped off the couch and fell onto his ass, and his new vantage point on the floor let him see that his boyfriend's toned muscles going saggy beneath his clothes. The transformation made it appear almost as if he were melting, and the sight of it made Trevor so queasy he had to look away.

"FUCK!" Andy exclaimed, staring down helplessly at his hands as his skin bubbled and his flesh grew softer. He hurled himself off of the couch and bolted out of the room, the slam of a door echoing down the hall a moment later.

Well, Trevor thought to himself. There goes our weekend.

🔀

Unbeknownst to the couple, in a house across town, a lonely old college professor was having a significantly nicer evening. The Egyptian ritual he had uncovered had gone off without a hitch and now, everything that Andy had lost belonged to him.

"Well, I'm definitely getting tenure after this!" Bernard announced to no one in particular. He'd just made a major breakthrough in his field by proving that magic was real, and the proof was staring back at him from the mirror!

He leaned in closer to the glass and stared into his new eyes, tilting his face back and forth to admire the enviable visage he'd stolen from one of his students. A smile, which made him look rather dashing, appeared.

Andy Douglass from his Intro to World Religions class was far from the first jock to pass through his classroom, but there was just something about the boy that had caught his eye. He was an okay student, often late with his assignments but otherwise unremarkable, but his appearance made him hard to overlook- the tallest boy in the class, magazine-worthy looks, and a sculpted body so good it was actually a distraction to the other students.

Professor Smith couldn't miss the way every girl in the class spent more time looking at Andy than at the whiteboard, even going so far as to arrive at class half an hour early just to stake out the seats closest to where he usually sat so they could ogle the way his biceps flexed whenever he raised his hand. But whenever the young women tried to chat him up after class, the stud never seemed interested in them. The professor thought he was an idiot for it- beautiful females were throwing themselves at him and he wasn't taking what was offered? The young fool clearly didn't appreciate what he had.

After a few weeks of classes the professor had begun to fantasize about what it would be like to be the one in Andy's shoes, to be the hot young stud who had his pick of all the girls in the school. If that were his muscular body he would use it right and plow through as many women as he could find!

So when he'd stumbled across a spell to "take the form of another" in one of the hieroglyphic scrolls he'd been translating, there had been no question about who he would use it on.

Words could not describe how incredible it had felt as the spell took effect and the years shed off of him, his body shifting until all traces of his old visage were gone and he stood there in the form of the student he'd so envied. The professor quickly divested himself of his clothes so he could perform a thorough examination of his new body to gauge the effects of the ritual- as a staunchly heterosexual man it was a bit strange for him to be studying another man's body so intimately, but since it was his now he relished the opportunity.

It was a literal weight off of his shoulders as his belly melted away into nothing and for the first time in decades he had a flat stomach- more than flat, it was cobbled through with abs. He could touch his abs now, and he couldn't bring himself to stop rubbing at them just to feel the rock hard ridges beneath his fingers. In his old body these muscles would be shriveled up from years of disuse and buried behind layers of fat but now they were fully on display, and they looked damn fine! This was actual six pack, the kind that came from countless hour of crunches and other such exercises that Bernard knew nothing about.

His entire body was now threaded through with muscle and he had no idea where any of it came from but he was grateful for it and he intended to have a lot of fun with it. Broad, well developed shoulders slithering down to powerful arms that hung down on either side of a set of hefty pecs that look like they belong on a Greek statue- and he felt as good as he looked! Everything about his new body was so tight and compact, built out of trained muscles that stood up proudly rather than weak flesh that surrendered to gravity.

Experimentally, he dropped to the floor and began doing push ups- he hadn't even thought of the exercise since his days in high school physical education class, but he was filled with a burning need to test out his new muscles. Back in his old body he’d usually collapse after one or two and then need an aspirin, but as he pumped up and down with his strong arms he felt like he’d never have to stop. Liquid gold was flowing through his veins!

Over and over again he sank so close to the floor that his chest almost touched the boards, but something else always touched down first- the pièce de résistance of his new body, Andy's penis. Given the unfortunate size of the cock Bernard had been born with he'd been certain that it would be an improvement no matter what his student was packing, but this was beyond his wildest dreams. Even soft it was a behemoth, and the heavy balls that accompanied it were equally impressive. He'd certainly made the right choice when picking a new body!

Grinning, he hopped back up to his feet, appreciating the simple joy of being able to stand without his joints protesting. The years had not been exceptionally kind to him but even in his youth he’d been something of a weakling, so being a strapping young lad was a novelty to him. One he intended to make the most of...

There were so many possibilities! His mind raced but ultimately he came to the conclusion that there were really only two things he really wanted: to drink and to fuck.

In his real body he got drunk often (partially due to the sting a lifetime of missed avenues and wrong choices, mostly due to boredom) but there was a difference between drinking alone and at a party... and as for the sex? Bernard turned his attention down again, admiring the young man’s enormous cock. He couldn’t imagine what lovemaking would be like with such an impressive tool at his disposal!

Tilting his face side to side he admired how handsome Andy was. With that strong jaw, those deep brown eyes, the manly stubble, he’d certainly have no trouble landing a pretty young thing! And a head full of hair too! He ran his hands through his hair, a bit surprised by its unfamiliar, wooly texture, but he wasn't going to complain because he was just thrilled to have anything on his head.

"Hello there ladies," he tested out his new voice, which was so deep and rich compared to his old one. If he'd taught classes with a voice like this, maybe students would have listened more! He leaned in to the mirror, letting him stretch his new wingspan, and imagined that he was talking to a group of admirers. "I don't suppose any of you pretty young things would be interested in showing an old man a good time?"

"No? Well how about a young stud like me instead?" he said cockily, making his bicep bounce a few times, and he pictured a classroom full of girls swooning. "Ladies, please, don't fight! There's enough of me to go around." He winked then reached down and took his new cock into his hand, wagging it around so its huge (even when soft) length danced, and he felt his balls tingle. "More than enough for all of you."

His mind drifted back to his ex-wife, who had left him after ten years of marriage because she "wasn't attracted to him anymore" and he cackled with delight when he looked at the young stud in the mirror. He'd like to see her try to say that now! But he wouldn't give an old broad like that the time of day anymore, no, he was more interested in girls "his own age," and on a Friday night he knew there would be plenty of them out there waiting for him.

Satisfied with his examination of his new body, Bernard hastened to get dressed so he could head out for a night on the town. He could work out the realities of his situation tomorrow- tonight he was going to have some well deserved fun.

None of his boring old clothes would fit a body like this so he'd thought ahead and picked out a new outfit to match his new body- something classy, unlike the baggy dreck that the youth of today wore. He slipped into a button up shirt, purposefully leaving it unbuttoned halfway down his chest to allow a tantalizing peek at his new torso, and he dabbed a bit of cologne on his wrists for good measure. The pants were a bit tighter than expected and he had to shimmy his hips to squeeze himself inside and leave the belt fairly loose, and when he looked in the mirror he realized why.

"Oh dear god..." he whispered, turning himself to the right and left to get a view of how his new butt strained at the back of his pants. He'd had to guess at the boy's measurements and he'd severely underestimated the size of Andy's posterior. Bernard never understood the fascination that young men these days seemed to have with their posteriors- what on Earth would any man need with such a giant backside?

But when he turned back around and saw the bulge in the front of his pants, the only thing he could think about was stepping out the door and finding someone to use it on.

"Get ready world," he boldly declared. "There's a new big man on campus."

[alphajocklover]

As a kid, I watched a film that had these big cavemen tie a nerd to a pole before he was saved by his archaeologist friends. Since then, the idea of a bunch of cavemen taking a nerd to physically turn him into one of them while forcefully dumbing him down makes me so aroused. Too bad it didn't even happen in the movie, let alone real life...

‘Neanderthals!’ has been one of Terrance’s favorite movies since he was a kid, which made most of his friends very confused. A lot of them couldn’t figure out why he liked it so much. Terrance was the founder, president, and only member of his high school's movie club, the volunteer movie reviewer for his college newspaper, and generally the biggest movie buff that most people ever got to meet, but his favorite movie, out of all of the choices, was a C-list kids movie where a bunch of teen archeologist unfreeze three real cavemen who were stuck in an iceberg, and have to deal with their shenanigans. It was nothing special, just a lame kids movie that wasn’t even bad enough to be funny. None of his fellow movie buffs could figure out why you loved it so much, but the answer was surprisingly simple: that movie was Terrence’s sexual awakening. Watching the trio of muscular, hairy cavemen tie up a 15 year old nerd (who was played by a 19 year old actor for some reason) and dance around him ritually woke something up inside of him. He seriously thought for a moment that he was going to watch the nerd be turned into a caveman, and that fleeting thought has stuck in his mind for years like an itch he couldn’t scratch. He became fascinated with the idea of caveman transformations, and had watched the movie dozens of times over the years. Terrance had seen it so much he thought he knew everything about his favorite movie at this point, that he had every scene, every fact memorized. Until he heard about the missing scenes.

Like many small movies, the fanbase for it was incredibly small, but dedicated. It had one small reddit page, with about 7 people who regularly posted on it regularly, Terrance among them. Things were usually pretty calm there, until one day a newcomer to the forum reported that they had found a copy of the movie with deleted scenes. At first Terrance thought it had to be a scam, but the anonymous fan claimed he’d send a copy of the deleted scenes in the mail, for free, and Terrance accepted. He doubted the guy was trying to hack him with a DVD or something, so even though Terrance wasn’t expecting much, he gave the stranger his address (the address of a PO box. He wouldn’t give your address to a stranger, he was horny not crazy). He was shocked when he actually got the DVD as promised, and even more surprised when He put it on. As it blared to life, he immediately recognized the opening! It really was ‘Neanderthals!’ Or at least a version of it! The sender seemed to have cut out most of the scenes that were the same, leaving only the missing scenes and the opening left. Terrance watched in awe, laughing at the bloopers and making notes on the different scenes that were left out. Then, finally, they got to the scene you had been hoping for. 

It started out mostly the same as it did in the original movie, with one of the teen archeologists, Hal the stereotypical nerd, being kidnapped by the three cavemen, who danced around a fire as he was tied to a nearby pole. But soon the scene changed, and unlike in the original, the cavemen turned their attention to their captive. One of the cavemen, the one who gets redeemed toward the end of the movie and marries one of the main character Moms (like I said this was a weird movie), went up to Hal and rubbed some colored mud on his face, making distinct ritualistic markings. Terrance felt warm excitement come over him as he watched the three cavemen chant and dance wildly, and watched as what he always wanted to happen happened. Hal’s skin tanned slightly and his hair grew longer, wilder and dirtier. Terrance watched, entranced, as his muscles grew beefy and defined, practically able to feel the warmth coming from the fire as you did. He could see the actor's eyes glaze over as his brain seemed to melt and devolve, and could practically feel the dumb guffaw he made echo in your ears as his face became more gruff and his intelligence drained. This was exactly what Terrance had always wanted, what Terrance had been dreaming of seeing for years! Terrance’s itch was finally being scratched, and it felt so good. Terrance felt so good. Terrance felt great! Terrance felt… horny! He practically tore off his clothing, struggling with the buttons for some reason, and began to pull at his cock. He felt himself laugh dumbly and began to mutter.

“Terry is so… horny… Terry wants… pussy!” Terrance said, despite having been gay mere moments before. He laughed dumbly as the remains of his clothing magically transformed, becoming a loincloth. Terry continued to jerk his now growing cock as his changes finalized. Terrance was gone, replaced with Terry, a dumb, buff caveman, and all Terry wanted to do was to find a cave girl to plow.

**hey there! First time doing a caveman TF. Found it very hot (but also hard to find pictures for). Hope you guys liked it!**