#Supposed to be a ''sexy'' pose but I drifted ^^''

[yore-donatsu]

Down

[octuscle]

I know the holly jolly fat man is supposed to be this sweet, sanitized mystical figure, I get that. But is there something you can do for a guy who finds Santa sexy? Big, round fuzzy man going around giving “gifts”, if you catch my drift.

There are indeed many different fetishes… And every demand is met somehow. So contact the Santa Escort Service. The logo looked promising.

Santa should be there in a few minutes. You have arranged to meet at a shabby motel. Not because it's cheap. Because it makes you horny. You've already undressed, your hard-on is in joyful anticipation. There's a knock. You open the door. And your erection collapses. There stands a skinny, pimply student with a ridiculous glued-on beard. That was not your expectation. But that's why you contacted me.

"Have you always been good?" asks the weakling with a thunderous bass you wouldn't have thought him capable of. You shake your head. Still unable to react out of disappointment. The Christmas hustler unbuttons his red coat. You wouldn't have thought him capable of such a hairy chest. "But at least you can recite a poem?" You shake your head again. He pulls the cheap hat off his head and rips the beard off his face. Surprisingly, there is a full beard underneath. Your cock starts to twitch again. "Let's see what kind of naughty kids we've got in our sack." You didn't think his voice could go any lower. Santa's skin is getting healthier and much, much darker. His chest puffs out. Fuck, was that red coat sleeveless just now? And where did he get those monstrous arms with which he pulls a pair of handcuffs out of the velvet sack? "Lie down on the bed, you Christmas gnome!" You can't help but obey his wish, his command. Santa strikes a double bicep pose and rips the coat off his upper body. Okay, this isn't the kindly white-haired man you were expecting. But he is tall and round and bearded. And damn, he has a huge present for you.

Half an hour later, you're lying on the bed, encrusted with cum and drenched in sweat. Santa puts on his sweatpants. What you wouldn't give to be such a picture of a Christmas stallion… Santa asks you if you need a special invitation. You rub your aching wrists and look at him questioningly. He throws you the car keys. Your shift as Knecht Ruprecht, Santa's always horny assistant and chauffeur, is about to begin. Have fun with it!

Pics found @maxx-magnum

[the-iceni-bitch]

Gimme More

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!reader (OTP ninja and puppy), implied Ari Levinson x Ransom Drysdale and Ari x Ransom x reader

Words: ~1k

Summary: Ari and Ransom have a surprise for you.

Warnings: explicit language, sex work, alcohol consumption, good natured teasing, future sexy times implied, Ransom is lil bit of a sex goddess (that’s right, goddess), 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: Quick, dirty, fun, and sweet, I love these three together so much, and they’re gonna get even better once we add cubby to the mix!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!

“No, Ari!” You tried to dig your feet in when Ari started dragging you towards the stage, but it was useless, the man was a beast. “I’m already getting dirty looks, I don’t think all these men are gonna appreciate me hogging prime real estate in front of the dancers. I’m pretty sure they already think I’m your hag.”

“Gorgeous, who fucking cares?” He grinned and kissed your forehead when he shoved you into the seat, sinking next to you and throwing a massive arm around your shoulders. “We’re celebrating your engagement, just relax and have a good time.”

“Yeah, my engagement, so why the fuck are we at a gay strip club?” You scrunched up your nose and scowled when he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your temple, his eyes drifting to the dancer who was grinding into the stage in front of you and tucked some bills into his g-string with a wink while you rolled your eyes. “And where is my fiancé? He disappeared a half hour ago, how are we supposed to be celebrating when he’s not even here?”

“Don’t worry so much.” Ari kept eye fucking the stripper while his hand trailed over your arm, winking at the twink when he giggled and collected his money from the stage before running off. “You’re gonna ruin your surprise.”

You were about to jump all over that hint when the DJ announcing the next dancer interrupted you.

“Alright, hope y’all are ready for a throwback, because we’ve got a doozy for you. Please welcome to the stage, for one night only, Gemini!”

“Ha, that was Ran’s…” you froze when you saw the dancer that was strutting onto the stage in nothing but a rhinestone studded body stocking and what you were hoping was a flesh colored thong, the way his hips were swaying making your mouth water. “Holy shit!”

Ari cackled and snatched your hand when you smacked his chest, kissing your palm while you gaped at Ransom draping himself over the pole in a lewd pose while he winked at you. You squealed when a slow cover of Toxic came over the speakers and he started rolling his body to the music, leaning forward with a dopey grin on your face when he slinked around the pole and swayed lasciviously.

God, you were mesmerized by him. You knew he could dance, hell, he’d given you enough lap dance by this point it was practically tradition for you Saturday nights. But watching him climb that pole and twirl around it and arch his whole body in those beautiful lines? You were fighting the urge to climb on the stage and lick him all over.

And his floor work, he moved like a fucking sex god, like he was made to take cock and eat pussy and anyone who thought different was a fucking moron. You audibly moaned when he sprawled himself across the stage right in front of you and arched his whole body so fucking beautifully you almost reached out to yank him towards you, barely even registering that all the men around the stage were literally throwing money at your fiancé while Ari just grinned and slapped a pile of cash on the stage.

“Hey baby.” He rolled onto his stomach and grinned at you, raising himself up on his knees and rolling his body slowly while your eyes raked over him. “How do you like your surprise?”

“It’s real good… shit.” You hissed when he bent forward and pressed his upper body to the stage and wiggled his ass in the air, like a fucking cat. “Baby, I’m gonna fucking wreck you.”

“I know, baby, love surprising you.” He leaned forward and brushed his nose over yours with a low purr, ignoring the groans from the rest of the patrons at the public display of affection to give you a peck on the lips.

“All of you shut up, they’re engaged!” The dj scolded the men who were grumbling about you with an indulgent grin, winking at Ransom when the music died out and he started to collect his tips. “And we all love her, we just tolerate your asses, so be nice to them, and thank you for contributing to their honeymoon fund!”

“If we have to watch him kiss someone, we’d rather it be the bear!” You didn’t see who said it, but it sounded like someone you could be friends with.

Ransom just shrugged and grabbed Ari by his hair, yanking him towards him and giving him an extremely filthy kiss that had you laughing exuberantly. That got some cheers, Ran turning to beam at the crowd before he was hopping off the stage with his tips and running a hand over your neck.

“I’m gonna go change, babe.” He gave you a small yelp when you smacked his ass. “Then the guys want to do one more round of shots with you, and then we can go home and give you the rest of your present.”

“First off, don’t you dare fucking change, are you kidding me Ran?” You snapped one of the straps of his stocking against his hip and groaned at the sound it made. “Yes to shots, and what’s the rest of my present?”

“Fine, I’ll leave on the outfit, but I’m taking these heels off, I haven’t worn spikes in too long and my feet are dying.” He shook his head when you gave him a sullen pout. “And the rest of your present may or may not involve watching a certain video me and the bear took when you had to go to that conference last month.”

“Shit, you actually did it?!” You moaned at the thought of what could possibly be on that video, watching Ransom’s ass as he walked away and biting your lip with an appreciative hum. “Hey, Ar, how hard would it be to install a pole in the white room?”

[gingeraleluke]

dolled up: happy 1k !! woohoooo! could you do a concept surrounding the venice film festival with zendaya and timothee but instead on zendaya it’s y/n. thanks!

y/n plays chani in dune and wears the same dress that zendaya wore to the festival!

they also aren’t dating in this one, but they are both crushing on each other!

bold and italic is timothée’s thoughts

BASED ON THIS PICTURE

“oh, wow! there they are.” timothée pointed at them through your window, his hand in your peripheral vision.

y/n stumbled over hollowed out breaths as the fans outside of the festival, came into view. while she’d like to blame it on the crowd, she knew that timothée’s hand placement on her leg, wasn’t helping. the simple touch from him, made her giddy. interestingly enough, she was still nervous around him, even after kissing him for the camera and spending months together on set.

“hey, you okay?” she turned and flinched slightly at how close timothée’s smiling face was to hers. his skin was glistening and she could make out small sparkles in the powder that the makeup team plastered him with.

“oh, yeah! yeah, i’m fine.”

y/n y/l/n wasn’t new to red carpets. with over thirty award nominations and 17.5 million followers, she was used to being in the spotlight— just not with timothée.

she was admittedly starting to fall for him and every second around him made her nervous. she was scared that she would trip over him on the carpet or that people would be able to read the lovestruck look in her eyes. the last thing she wanted was to be embarrassed like that.

timothée stepped out of the lexus car, leaning over and softly reassuring y/n that they would be okay before opening the door to reveal her to everyone. she was immediately hit with the sound of screaming fans and flashing cameras. gulping, she grabbed timothée’s hand, which he had reached out for her, trying to ignore the butterflies his touch gave her.

her gown was far from humdrum, a tan balmian dress, made of leather with a thigh high slit. the dress and her slicked back hair, gave her a dewy appearance while her glowy, intense smokey eye, kept her looking alive. a large snake pendant was wrapped around her neck, the 93 carat, emerald necklace, being the only source of coolness on her skin. she hadn’t noticed how sexy timothée thought she looked. how he could barely keep his eyes off of her, for every time he was looking at her, she was drifting out the window, lost in her thoughts. the two had been pining after one another for the longest time, both of them being too scared to do anything. everyone, including the fans, could tell. everyone but them.

timothée felt himself zone out in her appearance, quickly snapping out of it.

how am i supposed to keep cool when she looks like that?

“watch your step!” timothée warned, using his leg to keep the car door open.

“thank you.”

“no problem.”

gosh, he’s always such a gentleman.

“WHATS UP!?” timmy greeted the crowd, watching how excited everyone was. y/n gave a small wave, too nervous to even properly greet them. this wasn’t like her. she was technically a bigger celebrity than timothée was, yet she felt so intimidated by his presence.

a camera man touched her shoulder to get her attention and held his camera up. “oh—“

y/n lightly grabbed timothée’s collar to get his attention and the two of them posed for a quick photo in front of the car. timothée wrapped an arm around her back and smiled. she knew it was just for the picture, but when she felt his touch, she couldn’t help but squeal on the inside.

he looked like a rockstar. his hair was tousled and the sunglasses that framed his face, matched with the black sparkly shirt he wore.

how the hell am i supposed to keep cool when he looks like that?

the two continued walking, timothée motioning for y/n to go first. she had to count her steps in order to distract herself. she felt sick with nervousness, scared that she would fall. she didn’t show it on her face, though.

y/n instinctively started posing for the cameras, while timothée branched off to go talk to the fans. she didn’t notice his absence, and once she did, she wasn’t sure how to feel. she was upset that he left her, yet felt like she could finally breathe, now that he was gone. nonetheless, talking to the fans made him happy, and that made her happy.

meanwhile, timothée had to distract himself. he had taken every chance he got to distance himself from y/n, terrified of people noticing the weird spark between the two. and now that people saw them kiss for the film, dating questions were sure to be asked.

and as much as timothée wanted to be her boyfriend, he wasn’t.

posing for some of the photographers at the beginning of the red carpet, y/n could hear the almost embarrassingly loud screams of her name. she laughed, feeling bad for not saying hi to them, and told the photographers that she would be right back, before carefully walking over there.

“you can’t go back there—“ a security man stopped her, shaking his head no.

“but, i just—“

“i’m sorry miss.” multiple men blocked her way as she looked over and saw men doing the same to timothée. he continued talking to the fans in the distance, making her heart flutter.

getting to an area where the crowd could see her through the people, she waved to her fans and watched them all call her name in return.

“THEY WONT LET ME!” she made an exaggerated frown on her face before forming a heart with her hands. “I LOVE YOU, THOUGH!”

after countless poses and waves, y/n finally made it to the end of the carpet. cameras were still shoved in her face as costars around her made small talk. she gazed over her shoulder and saw that timothée was still with some photographers. feeling overwhelmed, she waited for him to finish, like a lost puppy.

timothée must have noticed, because he mouthed a quick ‘i’m coming.’

seconds later, he approached her. fixing her posture and smiling at him, “hey!”

“hey, it’s crazy right?!” the two of you walked down the carpet again, talking through the crowd.

“yeah. do you um— do you know which side we are supposed to go on? i don’t know which one we do first..” she stuttered.

“oh, yeah. i’ve gotchu, hey.” he turned to lock eyes with her, “are you okay?”

“yeah, just nervous.”

“wow, the famous y/n y/l/n nervous? i’m honored..”

“oh shut up.” she giggled, rolling her eyes and following the people ahead of them.

once the reached the area, they began to take photos together. their eyes darted in between cameras and they awkwardly stood next to one another. a moment clicked when they both decided to look at one another, but it just so happened to be at the same time.

fuck, does he know?

fuck, she definitely knows..

“i never know which leg to lean on..” timmy joked, trying to lighten the mood after being caught looking at her.

leg to lean on?

tim, come on man… that’s just sad..

“oh, yeah! i never know which hand to put on my hip.” y/n nodded, flipping her hair back and looking at the cameras.

out of all of the things i could have said?

god, i sound like a pick me girl, don’t i?

they continued taking pictures, timothée helping her fix the tail of her gown, occasionally. as soon as they finished, timothée darted away to talk to some people, leaving her alone… again.

she decided to talk to some of the publicists who were calling her name. she came up with small talk about the movie dune while also talking about her excitement for adele’s new music. she ran out of things to say before being asked the million dollar question.

“no, we aren’t dating.”

the question came up in timothée and rebecca’s conversation as well. “so, how are you and the mrs…?” she wiggled her eyebrows at y/n who was talking to someone. timothée’s heart sank at the upsetting reality.

“you know it isn’t like that..”

“right, but it could be.”

it could be?

“how do you know she’s even interested?” he crossed his arms and bit his lip, anxiously.

“you never know until you try.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

being careful not to slam the car door on her foot, y/n slouched into the back of the car. she was beyond tired and wanted nothing but to go watch tv and relax.

“hey!” timothée’s voice was muffled and his knocks on her car window, startled her. the driver rolled the window down for him.

“hi—“

“hey, um.. ar— do you have plans?” he looked like he was being chased by the cops; hurried and nervous. he licked his lips as he spoke to her.

“right now?”

“yeah. yeah, now.”

“uh, no..why?” she smiled.

“good, i wanted you to come over. my friends are having a little dune themed party and i wanted you to come.”

she pressed her lips together, trying to contain her grin.

“oh, um.. sure!”

“cool, then.. it’s a date! let’s go.” she hopped out of the car and followed him to his.

the word date made her face heat up.

not that kind of date, y/n…

the two of them made their way to the backseat as he spoke to the driver. she was giddy and her legs were bouncing.

leaning back, timothée spoke to her. “i’m sure they will love you, they are really chill people. they’re family friends actually.”

y/n nodded, feeling timothée’s hand on her knee in a reassuring manner, much like he did earlier. “oh, and don’t worry,” he spoke,

“i’ll take you on a real date after this.”

COME JOIN THE SLUMBER PARTY!

[2jaeh]

Body Paint | Wong Hendery

Genre: fluff, mature themes

Warnings: slight nudity, body painting ?, slight hair pulling, dirty talk

Words: 1,5k

AUTHOR SIN

Youre partnered up for a painting project with Hendery, when he has the the brilliant idea of painting each other...for the project Ofcourse.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You set a couple canvases onto the wooden floor of the studio you and Hendery had rented for your upcoming art project. It was for the varsity final exhibition and the task was to be completely experimental while perfectly collabing with your partner. Hendery, the quirky black haired boy you were partnered with walked into the room sipping on his ice coffee, 

“Any ideas yet ?” He smiled sweetly as he set down his backpack and walked over to the tray of paint. 

“Nah” you shook your head and sat crossed legged on the floor, “what about you ?” 

Hendery joined you on the floor before pulling out his ipad and you scooted closer to him to take a look. Your eyes widened when his pinterest board was practically filled with body painting art pieces, ranging from a back piece to a completely full body canvas. 

“B-body painting ?” you raised an eyebrow, 

“Yeah, I think it's interesting and it will perfectly showcase a collab as well as create something different from everyone else” Hendery explained and sipped the last bit of his drink. 

You wrinkled your nose at the screen, unsure of how this was going to work, how much body would you be painting exactly ?

“Problem ?” Hendery chuckled, leaning back on his elbows as he stared up at you, 

“How much are we painting ?” you scratched your head nervously, eyes still locked on the majority of his moodboard being close to nudity. 

“I think full body, front or back your choice” Hendery answered calmly, “I brought my tripod and camera so we can do it now, take a few pictures and edit it for the exhibition”

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

“Wait you're for real, don't we need to plan ?” you stuttered as the boy continued to strip down to his black boxers. 

“We should go with the flow I think it would look better if it was freestyled” He replied as you took in his confident semi nude figure waltzing around the room. 

You thanked the heavens you were in somewhat decent underwear today, especially ones that aren't too revealing. Hendery locked the studio doors and taped a piece of paper over the window just in case and began mixing paints as you reluctantly began undressing. 

“Don't be nervous, remember those people who were butt ass naked in our class two weeks ago ?” Hendery chuckled as he continued doing his duties. 

“Oh yeah that was really something” you reminded yourself of that dreadful experience. The only reason why you agreed to Hendery’s plan was because you were comfortable around him despite never seeing each other like this. He was an extremely sweet person and had always been respectful toward you and your peers. 

“Front or back ?” Hendery asked as he stood on the plastic sheet he laid out. 

“Back, I really don't want to be face to face with your uhm” 

Hendery burst out laughing when he realized what you were hinting at, “noted.” 

You gathered your favourite colours and got to work on his back, which was gloriously broad and honestly the perfect human canvas. Hendery hissed at the cold paint making contact with his skin but finally eased up when you began your workflow. It felt awkward at first but eventually became fun, as you watched your piece come to life against his golden skin. 

“I guess you're going with a darker style huh? I've always liked your work” Hendery mused as he lifted his arm making it easier for you to cover his ribcage. 

“I'm surprised you like it since your style is the complete opposite of mine” you chuckled, “its like good meets evil”

“I think that's why this idea is really going to be perfect, wow I can't wait to see the outcome of it” Hendery stretched up in turn making his muscles flex, which was quite...the sight. 

You were coming close to the details around the side of his neck and the closeness made Hendery really take notice of you, like really take notice. He watched you concentrate as you worked on his skin, your tongue darting out while painting was incredibly cute to him. 

Hendery had no idea you paid attention but you were definitely aware of him studying you and it kind of made you feel a bit more comfortable that you weren't the only one ogling. 

“Okay i'm done!” You took a step back and admired your work, “It actually looks pretty good.”

Hendery stood at the backdrop while you snapped a few solo pictures of him and showed off your artwork. “Wow it looks dope, those demons on my thighs are kinda sexy” he teased and you rolled your eyes, “they're supposed to be creepy not sexy” 

“They can be creepy and sexy, just like you” Hendery stuck his tongue out, “come on demon princess it's your turn.”

You and Hendery both agreed on a front facing canvas since it was a good contrast to your piece on him. You sucked in a deep breath as Hendery neared you with the brush and the instant contact made you flinch, 

“Too cold?” he cooed, as he carefully began working on your sternum area. 

“Y-yeah” you chuckled nervously as you felt his warm breath hit your chest, Hendery looked up at you, eyes slightly narrowed before his lips curled into a grin,  “I'm sure you can handle anything babe.”

Where the hell did the sweet boy from earlier disappear to and why the hell did he just turn you on with just his words ?

Hendery quietly painted away, making sure to steal glances at you and his fingers danced lightly across your skin. He was gentle, making sure to touch you appropriately at all times even though you wished he wasn't so courteous for a second. 

“Okay I'm all done we should take pictures before it gets messy�� Hendery ran over to the camera and began snapping a few shots of you. You were about to walk over to the camera to see his work when he held his hand up to stop you. “Wait we need to take a few together! I just want both canvases to look perfect”

You nodded and stood back in place while Hendery set up a self timer and jogged over to you. Thinking it was just a normal picture you stood as you were before but Hendery moved your arm to caress his face while he faced the other way and wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“Art is sexy remember” He winked as you recalled that stupid line your fine arts lecturer once said. You bit down on your lip and got into position, feeling a sense of excitement of Hendery’s grip being a little firmer than before. 

Hendery set the camera up once more and this time you orchestrated a position where Hendery stood behind you, showing a good portion of his back piece, and you faced front while he and you and him interlaced fingers. 

“For the finale we should make out, and kinda show the aftermath of the canvas” Hendery suggested and bit down on his lip, “are you okay with doing that?”

“Eh yeah that's actually a good idea” You agreed and Hendery quickly set up another self timer. 

Hendery grabbed your face in his hands as you wrapped your arms around his waist and looked up at him. His bright eyes suddenly darkened as they drifted down to your lips and pressed them against yours. The kiss was heated, crazily passionate for two people who had no prior feelings for each other. Hendery’s lips were soft and sweet, you could still taste the coffee on his tongue from earlier. His hand moved to your hair and he surprised you by slightly tugging on it which caused you to moan into the kiss. 

“Oh you into that huh?” he purred, and sucked your bottom lip between his teeth. 

He made you dizzy with lust. One simple kiss and you wanted him right then and there. He wasn't shy to grab your ass either as it was the only thing he was thinking about for the past four hours. 

“I think the….shutter...went off” you tried to catch your breath as Hendery’s lips already moved to your jaw and his hand gently squeezed his artwork around your throat. 

“Mmm, oh yeah” He sighed and licked his lips, breaking away from you and made his way over to the camera. Hendery sat up the final shot for the messed up canvases finale and made his way back over to you. 

The two of you posed side by side but you both could clearly hear the other person panting heavily after that heated kiss. 

The camera shutter went off and Hendery grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you to face him, “So y/n, There's only one shower” he smirked, “...do you want to wash away our artwork together ?”

[buttybarnes1917]

sit still, look pretty

IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY WORK!  This blog is not minor friendly!

Ft. fem reader and rockstar!bucky

Warnings: Slut Shaming, vaginal sex, use of pet name (kitten), dirty talk, bathroom sex

****

It was the night of the Grammy’s and you were dressed to the nines, a long forest green dress with a slit all the way up to your thigh, that clung to all the right places.  You were lucky to have scored a ticket, honestly--making connections was your strong suit, however, and your hard work had paid off.   

Plus, Battlestar, the band you’d been working with for a while, was nominated for a Grammy, and you weren't going to lie, seeing Bucky Barnes in a suit and tie was gonna be the highlight of your evening.  

You smoothed the front of your dress down as you stepped out of the car, pasting on a smile for the hundreds of photographers.  You thanked the driver for helping you out and headed down the red carpet toward the photo area, where you could see the boys talking to photographers and asking questions.  

Sam saw you first and pulled you close, pressing a dramatic kiss to your forehead as he joked to the photographers, “Now remember, be nice to my little sister, alright?  We look identical don't we?”  You punched his chest, laughing at him and shaking your head and pulled away.  John leaned over and pulled you away, complaining about the seats they were sitting in at the auditorium and asking if you could get them closer to the stage.  You rolled your eyes. 

“John, I don't have pull here like I do on tour.  This is the Grammys.  You sit where they tell you to.”

“Well… That’s stupid.” he said. “Nominees for Best New Artist should get front row.”

“I’ll be sure to let the Academy know,” you responded sarcastically and he rolled his eyes at you, turning and waving you away.  You flipped him off quietly, so the cameras didn't see, then you felt a gentle hand on your back.

Bucky.

“You know, this dress just isn't fair,” he said softly in your ear as he posed for the cameras.  “How am I supposed to keep my hands off you?”

“Hard work and perseverance, I suppose,” you teased, leaning into him and smiling.  He looked down at you, chuckling. 

“I love this new confident side of you,” he said, his fingers drifting up your bare spine.  “It’s very sexy.”

“Wanna talk about sexy?” you asked, taking a deep breath and smoothing the front of his shirt. “Look in the mirror then.” “Fuck.” he breathed out.  “I want to kiss you right now.”

“Jamie, we can't,” you said immediately, blushing.  “There’s so many people, and they already think we’re dating-”

“Bathroom?” he suggested, tucking your hair back. “Five minutes?”

You bit your lip, feeling your cheeks blush a bright red.  “Bathroom,” you agreed softly. “Five minutes.”

***

“Oh god, Bucky, yes!” you gasped out as he gripped your hips, groaning as he fucked you harder.  You grabbed at the edge of the counter, one arm wrapped around the back of his neck.  “Jamie, please” you begged, whimpering and shaking.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me like this,” he growled. “Right where anyone could hear, where anyone could walk in.  You in that damn dress, flaunting yourself in front of me, thinking I’d be able to hold back… fuck kitten, youre so wet for me,” he groaned, leaning forward and kissing you deeply, hard enough to bruise your lips.  

You cried out into his mouth as he shifted the angle just enough to brush against your spot.  “BUCKY!” You whined, gasping and digging your nails into his back.  You swore you heard his clothing rip, but at that moment you didn't care. 

“Cum for me, kitten,” Bucky growled and you arched into him, a wordless cry escaping your lips as he covered your mouth quickly.  You heard him groan as he emptied himself into the condom, leaning into you and kissing you deeply.  You kissed him back, running your hands through his hair slowly as you both panted.  He rested his forehead on yours and gently lifted his hand, wiping your smudged lipstick.  “Perfect.” He breathed out.  “You’re perfect.”

You heard the music start and your eyes widened.  

“Fuck, we’re late,” you squealed, hopping off the counter and cleaning up quickly as Bucky followed your lead.  He grinned and smacked your ass gently and you punched his chest, laughing as you opened the door. 

A reporter stood there, grinning, his phone in his hand. 

Your eyes widen as you froze, staring at him.  Bucky pressed a hand to your back, then saw the reporter and froze as well.

“I knew you were a slut,” The reporter said to you. “No girl can do what you do without fucking someone.  And of course it’s Barnes.”  He snorted as you covered your mouth, shaking. 

Bucky crossed in front of you, snatched the phone from the reporter's hand and threw it into the wall.  You jumped as you heard the screen shatter as it clattered to the ground.  Bucky lifted the reporter by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. 

“Bucky!” You gasped out.

“You call her a slut one more time, I'll be breaking your face instead of your phone,” he growled in his face.  “Say whatever you want about me, but her? She got here because of hard work, and you know it.  You publish any of that bullshit, I’ll come after you.  You’ll be sued so fast your head will spin.  Not to mention what I’ll do if I ever see you again.  You think I give a shit about going to jail?  I’ll happily go to prison if that means I get to punch your ugly mug in.” He tossed the reporter to the ground, then stomped on the phone for good measure.  The reporter scrambled off, whimpering an apology to you.

Bucky turned, pulling you close immediately, whispering softly to you as you continued to shake in his arms. “It’s alright, kitten.  I promise. It’s alright.”

“Bucky…”

“No, it’s alright,” he insisted.  “Please.  I promise you.” He kissed your head.  “Go.  People will wonder where you are.  I’ll start a commotion outside or something.  All the attention will be off you.”

“Bucky, no.” You whispered.  “This night is supposed to be about you.”

“It won't be anything too wild,” he promised.  “I’ll act a little tipsy and that’s all.  Promise.  Okay?”

“...okay” you whispered, swallowing hard.  He pressed another kiss to your head and winked at you hurrying off.  You swallowed down the butterflies that were fluttering around your whole body at the thought of him protecting you the way he did.  You headed back to the awards center, pushing all thoughts of Bucky Barnes aside for now. 

[toyboy-molloy]

reddie but it’s that one episode of friends where monica refuses to admit she’s sick and attempts to seduce chandler who is just trying to take care of her

Richie was supposed to be taking advantage of having the place to himself, writing material for his upcoming tour. So far, he’d only typed the words ‘my husband’ and had been lost in thought ever since. It was to be his first performance since he and Eddie had gotten married. He couldn’t stop smiling as he stared at his laptop, happily fiddling with his new wedding ring as he did so. Then, as if he’d been summoned by the power of Richie’s thoughts, Eddie trudged through the door.

“Hey, babe. I thought you were at work.”

“They sent me home,” Eddie croaked and, Jesus, he sounded awful. He removed his jacket and tried to hang it on the hook, missing completely and letting the garment fall to the floor. He sniffed, loosening his tie, “they said I can’t work if I’m sick.”

“That sucks,” Richie was on his feet and at his husband’s side in an instant, hanging the fallen jacket and taking his briefcase, “I’m sorry you’re sick-”

“I’m not sick!” Eddie snapped defiantly, attempting to walk over to the couch; he swayed a lot but ultimately made it, “I don’t get sick! I’m so careful.”

“Honey, it’s fine,” Richie gently manoeuvred Eddie to sit down and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. Of course he was burning up. He rolled his sleeves, “okay, I’m gonna run you a nice relaxing bath and make you some soup. Sound good?”

Eddie leaned back against the couch in what he hoped was a seductive pose, “you gonna join me?”

Even with a runny nose and dopey expression, Eddie was still the cutest thing Richie had ever seen. That didn’t mean he was quite ready to infect himself just yet. He smiled, kissing the top of Eddie’s head, “I’ll be here when you get out.”

-

“Alright, what do you wanna do now?”

Richie looked up as Eddie hurtled into the kitchen, jogging on the spot in just a bathrobe. He gave the illusion of having loads of energy but Richie could tell he needed rest and a bit of TLC. He removed his Will Cook For Sex apron and took the prepared bowl of soup, offering it to Eddie.

“I’ll tell you what I want to do. Let’s watch a movie together, all comfy in bed under a big ass blanket and stay hydrated with lots of fluid. Sounds neat, right?”

“Okay,” Eddie ignored the soup and took Richie’s free hand, playing with his fingers, “but if we’re in bed, I don’t want to watch a movie,” he winked, coughing hard. Richie’s heart melted.

“Babe, you know me. I’d be all over you like a rash but...” he gestured at Eddie’s drippy nose which he promptly wiped. He helped Eddie to the couch and pressed the soup into his hands, “don’t take this the wrong way but I just can’t have sex with a sick person.”

“I can’t have sex with a sick person, either. That’s disgusting,” even as Eddie spoke he was trying to crawl across the couch to reach Richie only he got tired halfway and sank into the cushions. His voice was muffled where his face was pressed against the couch, “but I’m not sick. I’ll prove it to you right here, right now.”

Richie couldn’t help but smile, folding his arms, “sure you will.”

-

Thankfully, Eddie had fallen asleep after that, still uncomfortably pressed into the couch. Richie had effortlessly picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, tucking him into bed, kissing his forehead as he left him to rest. he went back to his laptop, fondly adding ‘my husband got sick recently’ to the start of his routine. He was definitely not going to pass up the opportunity to embarrass his darling husband. Richie was just about to add something about sick-Eddie being insatiable when he heard said husband’s voice drifting from their bedroom.

“Riiiichie.”

Resisting the urge to sigh, Richie stood and braved himself as he headed to the bedroom, “yeah, baby? You hungry? Thirsty? You want a-” he found Eddie sitting upright in bed, the bathrobe falling over one of his shoulders. He peeled back the covers, patting the empty space beside him.

“I’m only thirsty for your dick.”

"Jesus...” Richie ruffled his hair, “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was. Now I’m ready for you,” Eddie shrugged off the bathrobe, immediately shivering. Richie was beside him in a heartbeat, pulling up his robe and fastening it for him.

“Oh, Eds, you know what gets me hot?” He tucked in his husband, pulling the thick blanket on their bed over him, “layers. Blankets. Hot water bottles,” he placed said bottle underneath the covers, caressing Eddie’s face softly, “fucking sexy.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie said hoarsely, trying to tug Richie on top of him, “I miss you. I just wanna make you feel as good as I feel.” Eddie finished his sentence with a rather aggressive coughing fit. Richie was a weak man but even he had standards. He sighed, sitting next to Eddie on the bed; he stroked his husband’s hair soothingly, pulling him against his chest.

“Just get some rest, honey.”

“I’m fine, asshole,” Eddie mumbled stubbornly, snuggling deeper into Richie. He was asleep almost instantly, snoring softly.

-

“Richie,” the comedian did groan this time but when he looked up he could tell something was different. Eddie looked weak and defeated as he traipsed over to where Richie was sitting on the couch. He sniffed, wiping his nose, “I think I’m sick.”

Richie raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise, “really? Not Eddie the Invincible.”

“Fuck you, okay? I admit it, I feel like shit,” he coughed for emphasis. Bless him he looked so sorry for himself. Richie closed his laptop again and gestured for Eddie to sit beside him. He obliged and held out some vaporub, “can you just rub some of this on my chest please?”

“Sure,” Richie instinctively reached for the small tub before his brain caught up with him. This was clearly a trap and Richie wasn’t stupid. He jumped up from the couch, pointing at his devious husband, “no, no, you sexy evil little bastard. I'm not falling for that.”

Rolling his eyes, Eddie just unscrewed the lid and undid his robe, “fine, have it your way. I’ll just do it myself.”

Oh, this was much worse. Eddie splayed almost naked on their couch, spreading the strong-smelling ointment across his chest, slathering his tattoo, letting out soft sighs every now and then. Richie couldn’t look away and he swallowed thickly.

“So you’re just...doing that?”

Eddie, who seemed to have remembered Richie was there, opened his eyes, furrowing his brow, “uh, yeah?”

“It’s working, I guess. I don’t know.”

Eddie slowed his movements, fixing Richie with a very judgemental look, “is this seriously turning you on?”

“Yes,” Richie groaned, lowering his head in shame, “the rubbing, the noises...you. I mean, how can it not turn me on?”

Eddie barked out an incredulous laugh, “are you kidding me? I’m sick here, Richie. I am so not in the mood. I couldn’t feel any less sexy,” Richie just wordlessly gestured at his pants which were noticeably tighter. Eddie shook his head, “what about all that shit about not having sex with a sick person?”

Richie scoffed, waving his arms frantically over Eddie’s body, “that was before all that vaporising shit. You can’t judge me right now.”

“Well, okay, if you really wanna have sex,” Richie was running off to the bedroom before Eddie had even sat up straight. Smirking to himself, he dropped the vaporub onto the table, “sucker.”

-

“So, yeah, anyway, after all that, I got sick,” Richie said as he turned to face his audience, glancing off to the side to where Eddie was standing proudly. He shook his head fondly, “bet you can’t guess guess how.”

[captainpains]

Sunshine (Commander Fox x reader)

Have fun with this cute trash for our favorite Fox!! Happy New Year!

Warnings: gn reader, food mentioned (does that count as a warning?), pining, Fox is horny, Fox to the rescue, mentions of a bombing, poor writing, much longer than normal (I think it’s like 1.8 k)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Annoying.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard was no stranger to annoying senators and their aids. From accusing others of stealing frivolous things to stupid complaints, the Republic senators truly loved to annoy Fox and take up the guard’s time. There was also no end to the gossiping of the aids. If Fox had a credit for every time he heard a rumor that a senator was having an affair, he would have enough to buy the GAR. 

He had one saving grace in the chaos. You.

You were a representative from a planet he had forgotten the name of. You looked like a ray of sunshine, shining brighter than any star. You were also pretty. The poor commander couldn’t focus whenever you were in close proximity. Despite his infatuation, Fox never actually talked to you. He merely enjoyed your presence, looking -- pining -- from afar.

Thorn noticed his fellow commander’s incessant staring at the representative. He had attempted to convince his brother that it wasn’t healthy to live his life in love with someone and never tell them. He never listened. Fox was a man that followed the rules and regulations religiously. The only time he ever broke a rule was when he was a cadet. He ran the smuggling ring for sweets and holovids on Kamino. Somehow the Kaminoans were none the wiser. 

However, this was not as simple a smuggling sweets to cadets. 

So when you were threatened directly by an assassin, Thorn jumped at the opportunity to facilitate some sort of interaction between you two. Against Fox’s will, he would stand guard at your Coruscant apartment, all night every night until you were deemed out of danger. Fox wanted to strangle him when he told him. 

So that’s how he ended up standing in the corner of your kitchen while you made dinner. You had questioned why the guard had sent a commander to protect you, a representative from a practically unknown planet. But you decided not to voice your concerns. You were sure they had their reasons. And it’s not like you minded the constant presence of the imposing commander. You found him quite attractive, despite never seeing his face. The way he carried himself and the way he walked was so sexy to you...

You let out a yelp when some grease splashed onto your hand, bringing you out of your thoughts. You yanked your hand away from the pan. You massaged the hand in hopes of soothing the small burn. You let out a frustrated groan and glared at the meal you were preparing. You managed to finish cooking without incident. You sat down at the kitchen table and silently ate. 

Commander Fox, meanwhile, was making a mental list of things he had to do. He also kept your file open on his HUD, just out of curiosity. Through your file he learned that you had seven siblings, at least twenty other living relatives, and had a net worth that made Senator Amidala look poor. Despite this, he found your apartment rather modest for someone of your statis. It was only two bedrooms with three refreshers -- which was tiny for most representatives. Fox also noticed the large amount of pictures and cultural artifacts that adorned the walls and shelves. Most of the holopics were of people who he assumed to be family and friends. 

He turned his head and appreciated the several pictures hanging on the wall next to him. His eyes locked onto a picture of you with two girls (who he assumed to be your sisters) standing in front of a large building. You were wearing some... revealing attire with a massive grin spread across your face. He couldn’t help the tiny groan that escaped him as he imagined you wearing it for him. 

“Commander Fox? Are you alright?” You asked, turning in your chair to face him.

“Sorry, representative. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” It wasn’t a total lie. He stayed up late worrying -- a little too much -- about his assignment as your guard.

“You should try to get more sleep. You’ll be staying up with me for the next few days,” you offered a shy smile before standing and moving to clean your dishes.

“With you?” He questioned, moving to look at you once again.

“I don’t sleep very well off my home planet,” you nodded towards the wall of photos Fox was just admiring. “It’s a small thing I inherited from my mother.”

“That’s something strange to inherit.” He commented, making a mental note to look into that. 

“Humans are strange when it comes to genetics. My best friend got an intense love for spotchka from their father.” You explained, turning to lean against the kitchen counter. 

“That’s likely a coincidence.” Fox replied, taking your position as an invitation to look your body up and down. While your clothes weren’t as skimpy as the ones from the photo, they weren’t exactly modest either. 

“It would seem so. But every one of their siblings has the same affinity for spotchka,” you chuckled. 

“Human genetics can be quite odd. I wouldn’t be surprised it that was the case.” He replied.

“I suppose so,” You bite back a smile.

After that, something changed in the air between you two. It was never awkward before, but it was more relaxed. You enjoyed the company. Fox was still strictly professional. Although, he did mess up once. He was attempting to get your attention, alert you that the speeder had arrived, and he accidentally called you by the nickname Thire had given you. Sunshine. He died of embarrassment. However, you found his slip up to be endiring. He was only human after all. 

About a week into the arrangement. You were resting in the living room of your apartment. You were practicing drawing, a hobby you picked up for relaxation. With multiple threats towards you, it had been a tense week. Everyone was on edge. So you decided to kick back and relax with some sketching. Problem was, you had no idea what to draw. You started by sketching a body -- a human male body. Then it just devolved into page after page of Commander Fox. He was in various poses, some heroic some oddly domestic. There were even a couple of drawings of what you assumed his face looked like. It was when you had reached true inner peace. Only for it to be interrupted by Fox. 

“Is that me?” He asked, pointing to your most recent sketch. He hadn’t meant to snoop, but he was your guard. It was his job to observe everything in order to ensure your safety. That included you. 

“Sorry. I just draw what I see...” You cleared your throat. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to being...” He couldn’t think of a word for it.

“The subject of art?” You finished for him, sounding unsure of yourself. You stood up from the couch, walking to the kitchen to retrieve a cup of caf. 

“I guess that’s one way to put it.” Fox followed you diligently into the kitchen. 

Before you could respond there were a loud bang and a bright flash of light. You couldn’t do anything as the transparisteel of the kitchen shattered. You felt a sharp pain in your legs before everything went dark. ---------- You woke up with a start. Sitting straight up breathing heavily. You were in a bright white room. Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you realized you were in the senate medbay. You looked around and found your friend, Mira, sitting in a chair next to your bed.

“Thank the maker, you’re awake,” she let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll go tell the doctor that you’re finally awake.”

Mira left and retrieved the doctor. After a long discussion, you found out that your apartment building was bombed and that you had been passed out for a couple of days. You had sustained injuries to your lower back and legs, as well as a few cuts from the glass. 

Mira stayed with you for the majority of the day. She showed you news reports on her datapad and gifted you with some of your favorite candy. She even managed to recover your sketchbook and gave it to you. Near the end of the day, as visiting hours came to an end, there was a commotion by the nurse's desk. It sounded like a man trying to visit somebody, and he was being very insistent. 

“Sir! I’m sorry to say, but I can not allow you in! Visiting hours are nearly over! You will have to come back tomorrow.” The nurse sounded frantic to get the man away.  

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” The man argued. The voice sounded vaguely familiar. 

“Sir!” The nurse, again, sounded frantic. 

It was then that Commander Fox came into view. He wasn’t wearing his armor, strutting around in only his blacks. His eyes lit up when he spotted you. Ignoring the nurse that was tailing him, he made his way over to you. Mira gave you a questioning look. You only replied with a sheepish smile. When he got closer, you could see the dark circles under his eyes and the five-o’clock shadow on his face. 

“I guess I’ll leave you two alone to talk.” Mira awkwardly said, giving a nod to the nurse as an apology as she left. The nurse gave a wary look before she left. Fox moved and stood next to your bed. His eyes were looking you up and down, surveying your injures, before sitting down in “Is there a reason you decided to come to visit me, commander?” You asked after a long moment of silence.

“I was just checking in on you... Ya know Thire was worried.” He lied. He was a horrible liar. He also sounded exhausted, like he hadn’t slept for a coruscant week.

“Commander, if I didn’t know any better, I would say it sounds like you were worried about me,” you grinned.

“Again, just doing my job...” There was a long, heavy pause before he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper, “I thought I lost you...”

“Thanks to you, commander, I’m still here,” You replied in a low voice, taking his hand in yours. 

“Almost lost you. Almost lost my sunshine...” he muttered sleepily, his eyes starting to drift close. But you smiled at the nickname nonetheless. 

“It’s alright now...” you spoke in a hushed tone, reaching for his hand. 

He gave your hand a squeeze, a smile appearing on his face. He continued to drift off into sleep, muttering nonsense as he did so. You could only make out one thing as he finally fell asleep.

“’night, sunshine.” 

[lockefanfic]

Business Trip: Prequel - Study Session Pt 2

“Nayeon-”

The girl delivers a firm slap to your cheek - not nearly enough to hurt, but certainly enough to sting, and more than enough to make sure she had your undivided attention.

“You can only talk when I let you, slave,” she declares, her tone all strength and seriousness. Gone is the innocent, adorable girl that you were studying with just a few minutes ago. She was all business now. Another girl had taken her place.

You want to retaliate somehow - she had never physically hit you before - but as always, you found yourself powerless to resist. How could you, when in a small, dark corner of your mind you knew you liked it?

“You’re going to be my little fucktoy,” Nayeon says, bringing a finger to her mouth and tapping her own lip with a slim finger as though considering what outfit she should wear, and not observing her helpless boyfriend that she had just tied up.

“I want to tie you up and fuck you.”

 The words came from Im Nayeon’s mouth with the tone of someone who was making an observation about some physics concept rather than a sexual act. You drop the pencil you were using to scribble notes with and look up at her to find an equally nonchalant look on her face as she idly flips the pages of her physics textbook as casually as she would a fashion magazine, having either been satisfied she had learned enough, or had given up on learning altogether - you weren’t sure which.

 She lets out a soft sigh, the same one she had when she was bored.

 “...what?” you ask, still taken aback by her statement and the casual nature by which she said it.

 “Are you done studying?” she asks.

 “I think I’m fucked for this econ midterm tomorrow, no matter how much cramming I get done.”

 “Good,” Nayeon says, before shutting her physics textbook and standing up. You are distracted for a moment by the tightness of the white tank top she is wearing beneath her blue track jacket, and she apparently notices the top-down scan you give her, because when she takes off her jacket she does so slowly, knowing you are watching every movement.

 She bends slightly to rummage through the backpack she has on the desk, giving you a more than generous look at the slight cleavage her pose produces. She wasn’t overly endowed, not as much as some of her friends, but she knew how to use what she had.

 Nayeon finally finds what she’s looking for, and she retrieves the object from her bag and walks around the desk until she is standing behind you.

 “What are you-”

 “Shut up,” she answers, her tone suddenly stern, suddenly demanding. A few seconds later she reaches around your chair to grasp both of your wrists, pulling them behind your chair. She crosses your wrists, and when you feel cotton being wrapped tightly around your wrists, you realize just what she is doing.

 Nayeon had a bit of an internal switch inside that pretty little head of hers; one second she was all innocent, full of cuteness, if a little ditzy - but when she flipped that switch she suddenly became an intensely sexual creature, every ounce of her small, tight little body almost immediately emanating lust.

 It caught you off guard most times - this afternoon’s little liaison in the university library was one of those times - but you always found yourself giving in quickly when she decided to impose herself on you. How could anyone resist for long, when she was so utterly sexy, so utterly irresistible when she wanted to be?

 “I’m in charge now,” Nayeon declares, as if she weren’t already, “and you don’t do anything until I let you or tell you to do so. I own you now.” She grasps the armrests of your swivelling desk chair and turns it around so you are facing her.

 “Nayeon-”

 The girl delivers a firm slap to your cheek - not nearly enough to hurt, but certainly enough to sting, and more than enough to make sure she had your undivided attention.

 “You can only talk when I let you, slave,” she declares, her tone all strength and seriousness. Gone is the innocent, adorable girl that you were studying with just a few minutes ago. She was all business now. Another girl had taken her place.

 You want to retaliate somehow - she had never physically hit you before - but as always, you found yourself powerless to resist. How could you, when in a small, dark corner of your mind you knew you liked it?

 “You’re going to be my little fucktoy,” Nayeon says, bringing a finger to her mouth and tapping her own lip with a slim finger as though considering what outfit she should wear, and not observing her helpless boyfriend that she had just tied up.

 Nayeon saunters behind you again, and you lament the fact that she has left your sight. You would’ve content to watch her slim, sexy little body all day, but when she lets her fingers graze your shoulder and the back of your neck, you let a small sound of need escape your lips.

 Nayeon notices the effect her touch has on you, and is quick to point it out.

 “Look at you,” she says, a slight tone of disapproval in her voice, “already getting all antsy over a little touch.”

 You want to respond, want to say something, but remember that you weren’t allowed to speak. Nayeon notices.

 “Good boy,” she says, “you’re learning.”

 She bends, bringing her mouth next to your left ear. Her hands drift down your chest, her palms flat against your body.

 “If you’re good, maybe this will end well for you.”

 You want to ask her what that means, ask her what she had planned. But you are helpless, powerless, just as you always were when she wanted you to be. She had a hold over you, had cast a spell on you and put you under her thrall. She was the best girlfriend you could have ever hoped for - caring, loving, funny and smart - but it was these moments that really drew you to her. There was something so hot about a girl that took control, a girl that bent you to her will and had the guts to enforce it.

 “What’s your favorite part of me, slave?”

 The question catches you a little off guard, and you scramble to find an answer. How could you pick just one part of her? Her long, slim legs, and the way they wrapped themselves around your hips when you were buried in her; her small, perfect breasts, and how warm and soft they were, the way they bounced up and down when she rode you; or her beautiful, cute face, her small, delicate features, adorable one moment and deviously sexy the next?

 “Your face, baby-”

 Nayeon slaps the side of your head.

 “That’s mistress to you, slave.”

 “Your face, mistress. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

 Even without seeing her, you know Nayeon has a smug smile on her face. She had more than a small vain streak - not enough that it was offputting, no - you always though it was kind of cute, how much she liked the way she looked. You knew from experience she had a weakness for flattery, and never tired of you telling her she was beautiful.

 “That’s a lame answer, slave. Give me another.” As she says the words she turns the chair again, spinning you around until you are facing her once more. She straddles you, and suddenly you find yourself unprepared for her sudden proximity, her small, tight body now in your lap.

 “What else do you like, slave? What part of my body do you want?”

 Nayeon brings her hands around your head, her forearms resting on your neck as she plays idly with the hair on the back of your neck. Her face is one of a woman that knows she has a man utterly wrapped around her finger. She knows you are powerless, a lump of clay in her hands, ready to be played with, toyed with.

 You tear your eyes away from her round, alluring eyes, her cute button nose and full red lips, down past her elegant neck, to the perfect, creamy skin of her chest. Nayeon, as always, notices your every move.

 “I see. You like my chest, slave?” she asks, pushing her chest out slightly as she brings her upper arms together, creating an even deeper amount of cleavage.

 “Yes, mistress. Your chest is perfect.”

 “I’m not sure how you can say that, considering they’re all covered up,” she says, and before you know it she reaching down and grasping the edge of her white tank top, pulling it up and over her head. Her dark hair falls down her neck and shoulders like a chocolate waterfall, but you barely notice as more of her perfect, creamy skin is revealed to your eyes. She is wearing a basic white bra beneath that perfectly cradles the soft mounds of her breasts, and you involuntarily feel your wrists squirm behind your back, cursing not for the first time your inability to touch the perfect woman in your lap.

 Nayeon has that smug smile on her face. She is enjoying every moment of this - watching you squirm, watching you rendered helpless.

 “Do you like what you see, slave?”

 “Yes, mistress. You’re perfect.”

 “Am I?”

 Nayeon reaches behind her and undoes her bra, grasping the flimsy undergarment as it leaves her body and letting it fall to the floor.

 “What about now?”

 You swallow deep, not realizing that your mouth had filled up with saliva in anticipation. Her breasts were amazing, small but well shaped, perfectly in scale with the rest of her tight, slim body. They had an alluring firm perkiness to them, and you knew from experience they felt and tasted amazing - her nipples are already erect, the buds stiff with pleasure and exposure. As much as she was teasing you, she was definitely also getting off on this whole thing.

 “You’re perfect, mistress.”

 Nayeon smiles, satisfied by your answer.

 “You can have a taste, slave. Maybe if you do well, I’ll reward you.”

 You dive forward, unable and unwilling to resist for even a moment longer. You start with her neck, happy to immerse yourself in the feel of her perfect skin on your lips and tongue as you plant soft kisses on her. Soon you move to involve your tongue, and then you are sucking on her warm neck.

 Nayeon lets a soft sigh escape her lips - the first outward sign of desire she lets out, until she realizes what she has done and cuts off her sigh halfway, remembering that she was supposed to be in control. A small grin appears on your lips as you continue your ministrations on her neck, slowly tracing downward, satisfied to watch as she pushes her chest up and outward, involuntarily encouraging you, wanting you to devour more of her.

 Soon you reach her breasts, those perfect, round mounds, and you find yourself unable to resist - a better man, one with more self control, might have teased her a little, kissed and nuzzled her flesh with soft kisses and licks - but you are not that man, and you capture her left nipple in your mouth, delighting in the taste of the hard nub in your mouth as you swirl your tongue around it.

 Nayeon gasps again, and this time she makes no effort to disguise the sound of pleasure escaping her lips as you press your face to her breast. She reaches up with both hands and grasps the back of your skull, pushing her chest forward even more, offering up more of her to you.

 You are sucking now, opening your mouth to capture the entirety of her nipple in your mouth and sucking, licking the hard nub, swirling your tongue around it. You give it one more lick before switching to her right breast, eager to give it the same attention. Soon it too is saliva coated, her pink nipple almost painfully hard with arousal as you suck, lick, and tease it.

 “Fuck,” Nayeon sighs, and you delight in the fact that her composure is slipping, just a little bit.

 She lifts your head from her chest, satisfied, at least for the moment.

 “That was good, slave. I suppose now it is time for your reward.”

 It went without saying that you were almost painfully hard now, what with your topless girlfriend in your lap, letting you suck on her chest. Nayeon scoots backward on your lap, allowing her room to reach down and work on your jeans - within moments your belt was undone, your zipper unzipped, and your shaft was wrapped with her slim, warm fingers. She jerks you up and down slowly, and now it is your turn to gasp involuntarily.

 “You’re rock hard already, slave. Did you like my breasts that much?”

 “Yes, mistress.”

 “Do you like this?” she asks, her warm palm continuing to jerk you, her wrist swirling slightly and sending shocks of pleasure coursing up and down your spine.

 “Yes, mistress.”

 “Do you want me to keep going?”

 “Yes, mistress. Keep going, please.”

 Nayeon delivers another smack to your cheek with her left palm. Your cheek was probably already pink by now, if it weren’t already.

 “You don’t get to tell me what to do, slave. I do what I want. And you’re not getting a handjob.”

 Without another word, Nayeon lets go of your shaft and scoots off your lap, dropping to her knees between your legs. She takes a moment to pull your jeans down further, and with some effort she divests you of your clothing entirely, leaving you naked from the waist down. Wasting no more time, she grasps your hard shaft with her right hand before lifting it slightly to allow her access to the base of your cock.

 With her round, innocent eyes locked on yours, she gives your shaft a long lick from base to tip.

 Then she takes your shaft in her mouth, and you gasp in pleasure as Nayeon begins to suck your dick.

 Nayeon’s mouth knew its way around your cock - your months together had bourne no shortage of blowjobs. She knew just what you liked, knew how to build up your pleasure when she wanted to prepare you for sex; and she knew how to make you cum in her mouth if that’s what she wanted.

 As she takes your rock hard cock in and out of her hot, wet, needy mouth, you swore that her goal today was to make you cum as fast as she possibly could. Her lips are wrapped tightly around your shaft, her tongue swirling random patterns around and under your cock. Her left hand is toying idly with your testicles as her right hand is pumping you up and down in time with her sucking, slurping mouth.

 Your head falls back, savoring every ounce of pleasure radiating from your crotch as the young woman between your legs worked to seemingly bring you to orgasm as fast as she possibly could.

 You force yourself to look down, although you are almost afraid to do so, knowing that the visual of her head bobbing up and down your shaft might be too much for you to handle. She must have known you were watching her, because she lets your shaft pop out of her mouth and locks eyes with you, letting you watch as opens her mouth and presses the head of your cock on her pink tongue, her right wrist still pumping it up and down.

 The sight of her, the sight of her open, welcoming mouth, the sight of your round cock head pressed against her wet, pink tongue, and the smug, lusty look on her face - those innocent, cute features now dripping with lust - it might have been too much to handle, had she continued for a few more seconds.

 But she doesn’t continue - she stops altogether.

 She rises from her knees, wiping away the stray saliva from her mouth with the back of her hand. She stands, topless, in front of you, your shaft, wet with her drool, standing erect between your spread legs, almost sad with neglect. Nayeon crosses one hand around her chest and rests her right elbow on it, tapping her lips once more with her right finger.

 “You don’t get to cum yet, slave. I choose when - or if - that happens.”

 “Please, mistre-”

 Nayeon slaps you once more - a little more firmer this time.

 “No. Slaves don’t get any say in when - or if - they cum. Only I get to decide that.”

 Nayeon turns around, and for a moment you are afraid that she is about to turn and leave you there, tied up to a chair, naked from the waist down. But she doesn’t step away - instead she looks over her shoulder at you, past a creamy, perfectly sculpted shoulder - and slowly begins to pull her blue sweatpants down.

 Her butt is round, soft, and cute - just like the rest of her. But even better than seeing her butt naked is the small glimpse of soft pink lips between her thighs - lips that are glistening slightly. When she bends to get the pants completely off her you get an even better look at her most intimate area - and she takes her damn time as she bends over, knowing your eyes were glued to her near-naked body, just as your mind was slaved to her will.

 When she is naked, she turns to you in all her sexy, beautiful glory, and you take a moment to drink her in. She is cute, petite, adorable - in the traditional sense of the word; her body is worthy of admiration. Her legs are long and slim, her stomach flat, her breasts humble yet intensely alluring and perfectly sculpted - but best of all was her face, cute and sexy all at the same time. She is not built like a model, or a dancer, or a swimmer - not curvy nor stick thin. She is almost like a fairy, or an elf, some fantastical, whimsical creature given human form with the wicked ability to bend the wills of men to her own.

 She takes small steps toward you, and there are no more words to be exchanged now - there was only pleasure, and the pursuit of it. It was all that mattered.

 Nayeon straddles you once more, her slim legs and warm thighs on either side of your own. You look up at her and realize the smug smile is gone, replaced with the lust-drunk features of a young woman in need - the need to be filled, to fuck and be fucked.

 She reaches between you, grasping your still-wet shaft, and ensuring it is in line with her heat, she presses herself down, taking you inside her.

 You’d had ridiculous amounts of sex with her over the past few months, but you never tired of that moment, that sudden rush of pleasure that came with entering her body for the first time. She was always so tight, always so hot and wet and so utterly fuckable that you always found yourself craving that moment, and you were never disappointed when it came.

 Nayeon felt the same, if the loud moan that escapes her mouth as you fill her is any indication. Her crotch hits yours as you are buried in her to the hilt, and she takes a moment to savor the feel of you fully embedded inside her; a moment you are thankful for, because if she began to ride you immediately you weren’t sure you could handle it.

 It might have been a minute, might have been an hour that she spent there with you buried to the hilt inside her, but eventually she begins to move up and down, taking you in and out of her body with small, then long, movements of her hips. She has forgotten, at least momentarily, of the entire mistress and slave act she had been putting on. Now there was only pleasure, only the pursuit of a plateau that you both wanted to attain and keep at bay, all at the same time.

 She bounces up and down on your cock, occasionally taking a moment to grind her hips against yours, relishing the feel of your hot wet flesh pressing against each other as her clit mashes up against the base of your shaft. You curse, not for the first time, that your hands are tied up behind you. You would’ve given the world to wrap them around her small torso, or grasp her ass, or squeeze her softly bouncing breasts.

 “Oh, fuck, that feels so good,” she gasps.

 “Fuck… yes,” you answer, unable to really come up with more words than the most basic.

 “Do you like… when I ride you… like this… uhh! Mmm… when I ride your cock, slave?”

 “Yes, mistress.”

 “Mmmm… you’re such a needy little… fucktoy… aren’t you? Always needing… my pussy... “ Nayeon gasps, the words coming more quickly and with more stress than before - the pleasure is building steadily in her small body, and from the increasing tightness of her pussy you knew she was nearing her first orgasm.

 “Yes, mistress… I love your body… and your tight little pussy… Mmmm..”

 “Ohh… ohh! Fuck! You’re so big inside me, slave… you feel so good. Do I feel good?

 “Yes, mistress! You’re so tight… so wet… so hot.”

 Your words seem to drive Nayeon over the edge, and she throws her head back as she cums, quickly becoming a hot, wet, quivering mess as she lets the pleasure overwhelm her. Nayeon stops her riding, switching once more to grinding herself against you. She captures your head in her hands and kisses you passionately as she releases a long moan into your mouth. Her body is still shaking, her hips still trembling as she lets the last small waves of pleasure crash into her.

 When she has finally recovered, she breaks the kiss and you look at each other - gone is the entire slave/mistress act - there is only emotion there, only affection, in her flushed face and her soft eyes.

 “I think you’ve done well enough, slave,” she says when she has gathered the strength to speak, “I suppose you deserve a reward.”

 Nayeon lifts herself up and off your shaft, and you watch with eager eyes as your shaft, soaked with her slick juices, slides out of her body. She steps behind you and quickly undoes the knots tying your wrists together, before walking back in front of you. She takes a moment to swipe away your long-forgotten economics textbook before hopping on the desk. She spreads her legs, resting one foot on the armrest of your chair. Her right hand drops to her crotch, and with her slim, long fingers she traces the outline of her completely drenched pussy.

 “Come fuck me.”

 There are no more arousing words in the English language, and even before you know it you are rising from the chair, taking only a moment to grasp your slick cock in your hand before lining it up with her wet, hot body and thrusting inside, filling Nayeon once more with your rock hard cock.

 You’d had enough of teasing, had enough of roleplay - you wanted to fuck now, wanted nothing more than to drive yourself in and out of Nayeon’s tight, wet pussy. Nothing else existed aside from the body of the young woman on the table in front of you, and the need to completely ravage her tight little pussy.

 The speed and ferocity of your thrusts take her by surprise, but she quickly adjusts to it, wrapping her legs around your hips and leaning back to watch as you took your pleasure from her body. She rocks back and forth on the table as it squeaks in unheard protest, her slim form being pounded relentlessly as you lose control, lose all desire to take things slow.

 There is a sudden anger in you, a sudden desire to put this girl in her place and make her yours, a sudden need to have some revenge on her for all the humiliation and teasing she had just subjected you to. You reach up and squeeze her bouncing left breast before reaching to the back of her neck, grasping a handful of her hair.

 “You like being fucked like this, don’t you, Nayeon?”

 Nayeon is initially surprised by your sudden forcefulness, but if her reaction is any indication, not only did she not have a problem with it - she got off on it.

 “Yes! I love it… I love when you use me… when you use my pussy and fuck me hard!”

 “You’re just… a dirty, needy little slut, aren’t you, Nayeon?”

 “Yes!” Nayeon answers, her face full of needy lust now, “I’m yours! I want to be treated like this… I want you to use me! I want you to fuck me like the little slut that I am!”

 “If you are a slut,” you begin as you give her a particularly hard thrust, “then you’re going to be fucked like one.”

 You quickly pull your shaft from her body before pulling her off the table, turning her around and pushing her, not too gently, on the back until she is bent over it. Her round, firm butt in the air, you quickly grasp your shaft and line it up with her pussy before sliding inside her once more with a firm, hard stroke.

 “Fuck!” Nayeon gasps, the new position meaning she was filled even deeper than she had been.

 You don’t give her any more time to adjust - soon you are pistoning in and out of her with the same speed as you were when you were fucking her face to face, watching as your absolutely drenched shaft spears in and out between her round butt cheeks, the mounds of flesh bouncing with each entry and exit. Her pussy is even tighter in this position, her hot walls wrapping even tighter around your shaft.

 You reach down and grasp her hips, driving her body back against your crotch even as you thrust forward, your bodies crashing against each other violently, the wet, hot slapping sound of flesh hitting flesh echoing throughout the room.

 “Oh, fuck! Fuck me, baby! Fuck me… use me… make me your little fucktoy!”

 The sight of it - the sight of her small, tight little body bent over the table as she takes you, as you fuck and ravage and dominate her, it all becomes too much to handle. And that wasn’t even mentioning the feel of her tight, hot, wet pussy, so needy and eager to take you, so willing to be fucked and outright taken.

 “I’m gonna fucking cum, Nayeon.”

 “Do it… baby… cum wherever you want! My body is yours, baby! Cum on me, cum in me… wherever you want!

 “I only cum in good girls,” you manage to say, the dark words leaving your lips before you knew it, “sluts like you get cummed on.”

 You reach down just as you reach your peak, and your shaft just barely escapes Nayeon’s wet, slick pussy before you cum, sending hot, thick streams of semen flying onto her lower back and ass, painting her lower body with white. Nayeon lets a long, loud moan of pleasure escape her lips as she feels you cum on her, although there is a note of disappointment in it, as though she had wanted and needed you to cum inside her. You let your shaft, still erect and slick with your juices and hers, rest between her cum glazed ass cheeks as she heaves and breathes heavily, a wet, quivering mess beneath you.

 “I… I wanted your cum in me,” she manages to say.

 You smile devilishly. There was something satisfying about denying her what she wanted - especially after what she did to you. You bend over the table, resting your hands on it, letting your head rest behind her right ear.

 “If you want my cum in you, maybe you should be a good girl.”

 “I will… I will, master. I’ll do anything you want.”

 Your smile widens. The tables had turned.

 “Then I guess you can have a little bit.”

 You reach down, and grasp your still hard cock before thrusting it back into the wet mess of her pussy, delighting in the gasp of surprise that leaves Nayeon’s mouth as you fuck her with slow, smooth strokes, mixing your juices with hers one last time. With your right hand you reach down and squeeze her cum-covered right butt cheek, savoring the feel of her drenched pussy wrapped around your spent cock, as though trying to bring it back to full hardness.

 Your shaft is finally spent, and you let it slip out of her needy little pussy, enjoying the sight of her juices dripping of it and onto the floor. Exhausted now, you fall back into the chair. Nayeon hasn’t moved, still bent over the table, breathing heavily, still recovering. You didn’t mind the sight at all. She is a mess, all dishevelled and naked and spent, the hot white semen on her back and ass making her skin glisten.

 When she finally rises up off the desk, the cum on her back and ass drips down her body. You smile as you retrieve some tissues from your jeans on the floor and wipe the thick liquid from her back. When you are done, she joins you in the chair, sitting in your lap once more, although this time in a more innocent way, her legs crossed and off to the side as you wrap your arms around her. You kiss, but this time it is cute and innocent, more affectionate and less lusty.

 “...So, should we get some pizza?” you ask with a smile.

 “Yup. I guess I could use some food before our next study session.”

 “There’s gonna be more studying?”

 “Yup,” Nayeon answers as she rises off your lap, “I’ve had my fun. Now it’s your turn to have yours, master.”

 She gives your shoulder a sweet caress, letting her fingertips graze your ear as she walks past you and leaves the room, likely to go to the washroom to clean up. You gaze after her for awhile, happy to watch her naked body disappear into the hallway.

 Still smiling, you slide the chair back to the table and grab your phone to order some pizza.

[impala-dreamer]

Two Weeks Notice - Day Six

~With the world practicing self-isolation, Y/N and Dean break all the rules of social distancing and common decency as they explore an empty bunker and use the time alone to their playful advantage…~ 

Dean x Reader

1,947 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Fluffy, Costumed Smut.

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Dean lay back in bed, memory foam mattress forming perfectly around his aching hips. He’d never admit it in a thousand years, but Y/N’s Fuck-Fest 2020 was making him a bit sore around the joints. Not that he was complaining. He was enjoying the ever-loving hell out of it, and her. There was something very relaxing about doing whatever you wanted with no fear of someone else- Sam - walking in on you at the wrong moment. Hell, he was even considering not wearing pants for the rest of the week.

That and Y/N seemed so open to play at whatever popped into his head. He was certain the whole vampire thing wouldn’t go down well, but she leapt at the chance and played it out perfectly. They were exploring each other and the bunker and it was magical. He had almost forgotten that the outside world was in chaos and that Chuck was breathing down their necks.

Almost.

Alone for a moment, he fluffed up the pillow behind him and texted his brother.

‘How’s it going up there?’

As always, Sam answered quickly. ‘Fine. A little bored stuck in the house, but we’re getting by. How’s Y/N?’

‘Oh, she’s doin reeeallll good.’

Dean could picture the look of disgust on Sam’s face.

‘Make sure you guys are washing your hands and… disinfecting the sheets.’

Dean laughed at the screen. ‘I don’t think the sheets are the problem…’

‘Gross. Clean up before I get back, please.’

‘You got it. Hey Sammy- Stay safe up there, OK?’

‘Obviously…. You too.’

As much fun as he was having, he did miss Sam, and Jody, and the girls, and Cas.

“Ahem.”

Y/N’s call to attention did just that, shoving away any lamenting thoughts from Dean’s mind and focusing his eyes on the doorway. The door was open and under the frame stood Y/N, wrapped in a familiar tan trench coat, the sash pulled tight around her waist.

Dean’s jaw dropped.

“Hey there, sexy,” she greeted, posing for him, one bare knee popping out from the folds of the coat.

He swallowed hard, trying to wrap his head around the intensely arousing sight before him. “Hey yourself,” he whispered back, tripping over his tongue.

Y/N ran one hand slowly up the door frame, the long sleeve of the coat dropping down to reveal a smooth, naked arm. “Whatcha doin’?”

A bit of drool sloshed from the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “Wonderin’ where you got Cas’s coat from.”

Y/N licked her lips and turned slowly so that he would see all her curves and edges. “Stole it from his room. Who knew he had more than one of these things?”

“He’s gone through a few over the years.” There was a lump in Dean’s throat that he was sure was his lust in physical form, and he spoke around it, trying to keep his cool. “None have ever fit him like that though.”

She took a step inside the room, bare feet moving in a perfect dance toward the bed. Her hips swayed, her lips parted. “You like?” Painted fingers ran over the sash and tugged the ends, squeezing her waist even tighter.

Dean lost his breath. “Uh...yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Y/N laughed sweetly. “Knew you would.”

His brow raised as she neared the bed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

One knee on the bed, mattress moulding around her. “Nothing, it’s just...sometimes you get a look in your eye when Cas is around.”

Dean startled, pushing himself up against the headboard, crushing the pillows beneath him. “I don’t have a thing for Cas,” he said sternly.

“I didn’t say you did.”

“You kinda did.”

“Whoa!” Y/N threw her hands up and laughed to herself. “All I’m saying is…guys in long coats are hot. And so is Cas. He’s a damned angel for fuck’s sake. Who wouldn’t wanna try it if they could?”

Dean pouted and shrugged, thinking it over. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And anyway, Cas isn’t here right now.” Another knee on the bed and Y/N climbed over him, fitting her thighs tight around his. “And I’m wearing a surprise for you beneath all this tan.”

Dean licked his lips and lifted his knees, forcing Y/N to slide closer to him. “Oh, really?” He chewed his lip and tried to peek between the coat folds. “Whatcha got on under there? That hot pink strappy thing?”

Y/N shook her head, grinning innocently. “Nope.”

“Hmm… the black one piece with the hole in the-”

“Not even close!”

Dean ran his hands down her back, trying to feel for a clue. “OK, I give up. What’s hiding under all that London Fog?” He flicked at the lapel and Y/N swatted his hand away.

“Tisk, tisk. Patience, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, patience and I ain’t exactly ever been on good terms.”

She smiled and opened the knot on the sash, letting the ties fall to her sides. “Then I guess I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”

His eyes dipped to the buttons as she opened each one, taking her sweet time, driving him insane. When the last was popped, Y/N sat back a bit and pulled open the coat, revealing his ultimate favorite costume: nothing.

Dean growled. “This. This is perfect.” He reached forward and cupped her breasts in his hands, loving the heat of her, the softness. Her nipples hardened instantly beneath his wide palms and she leaned forward to kiss his plump lips.

“You like?”

“Baby,” he moaned, his brain already buzzing with hunger. “I love.”

She bit down his words, sucking them from his mouth with her perfect lips; hands massaging his neck and shoulders, digging into him, begging for him.

He moaned into her mouth, still playing with her tits, loving how close she was, how perfect, heavy against him. He felt himself swelling and let his mind drift as Y/N licked into his ear, nipping and sucking wherever the urge brought her. When she ran out of room, she tugged on his shirt and Dean sat up too quickly to remove it and something popped. A lightning bolt of pain flew from his right shoulder all the way down to his ass and beyond, pooling in his foot until everything went numb for a moment.

“Fuck!”

Y/N flew backwards, hoping off of him as his pained curse filled the room. “What happened? Are you OK?”

Dean hissed and clenched his teeth as he shifted on the bed trying to ease the strange pain. “Yeah, just… something pulled funny.”

Her face dropped and Y/N lay a soothing hand over his heart. “Did I break you?”

Despite the discomfort, Dean laughed and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. “No. I’m OK. just like… ouch.” With a sigh, he scooted down the bed and found a pillow to crash into. “Come ‘ere.”

Y/N pouted but laid down with him, stealing half of his pillow instead of using her own. She always liked his better anyway. “I’m sorry. Maybe this week’s been too much.”

“Hey.” Dean’s brow creased as he went on the defense. “This week’s been amazing, you shut your mouth. I’m just…”

“Old?”

He scoffed. “How dare you!”

Y/N cupped his jaw and patted his cheek lovingly. “I don’t care how old you get. You’re perfect. And old’s better than dead anyway.” She winked and he nodded.

“You got that right.”

“So let’s just cuddle.” She turned onto her side, facing away from him, and settled in. “You can cuddle, cantcha?”

Dean smiled and rolled to fit himself behind her, one arm slung over her middle. “Yes, ma’am.”

Y/N sighed and lay her hand on his, keeping him there. “Good.”

He closed his eyes and let the pain subside, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. She smelled like apples and wind; like that summer he spent on the farm in upstate New York. Fresh and sunny and real.

She wiggled a bit, getting comfortable, and Dean hummed in interest as her ass rubbed against him; just a thin layer of cotton and that old trench coat lying between them. He pushed his hips forward and let his body do what it wanted.

His lips wanted her throat, so they took it, kissing and suckling at the tender flesh beneath her ear; teeth gently scraping at her shoulder, inducing a shiver that brought her closer still.

His hand wanted her supple flesh, so it rose from her waist to her tits, rolling each nipple between his long, calloused fingers until she moaned and pushed her ass backwards more, arching against him.  

His body wanted more, wanted all of her. He left her breasts and slid down her body, carefully pushing her legs apart and pressing against her pussy. Her heat was intoxicating. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and urged him onward; her breath becoming heavy as he dipped inside.  

“Want you,” she moaned, twisting her neck to reach his lips.

He kissed her hard. “You have me.”

“You promise?”

Her whisper blew across his lips and Dean nearly died; so taken with every tiny thing about her, he couldn’t think of ever letting her go.

“Promise.”

She turned fully then, knocking his fingers from her thighs, and took his face in her hands, kissing him hard and fully, holding onto every bit of him. When he rolled over her, she paused, pulling back from their kiss to look him in the eye. “Are you sure?”

He grinned and kissed her deeper, pushing her knees apart with his bowed legs. “I’m fine.”

The trenchcoat fell away and Y/N helped him tug the boxers from his hips, gently stripping him with warm fingers and lingering kisses.

"Slow," she whispered, guiding his cock into her. "Go slow. I wanna feel you."

Dean pushed up on his thick arms and let his hips glide back and forth, rocking gently, in and out until he was coated fully in her juices. She felt every inch of him and her body tightened more with each thrust.

“Oh god…” Her eyes were screwed shut and her lips were parted, ripe for the taking. Dean plucked at them with his teeth, sucking her into his mouth as he fell into a steady rhythm, leisurely stoking the fire between them.

When he felt her begin to pulse around his cock, he licked at her lips and set himself perfectly above her. “Y/N, open your eyes.”

She bit her lip as the orgasm loomed, unable to do much more than feel.

“Look at me,” he demanded, soft but firm. Her eyes popped open and an unstoppable smile lifted her lips. “There’s my girl. I wanna see you cum. I wanna watch you.”

Teeth still tucked into her bottom lip, she nodded and her eyes grew wider, an almost manic look taking over as her body let go. She convulsed in his arms, pussy pushing and pulling at his cock, forcing him to join her in mindless bliss for a moment.

Dean’s left elbow crumbled beneath him and he fell down, crushing her into the mattress as he came. He panted against her neck and Y/N wrapped her shaking arms tight around him, hugging him closer.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” she whispered, expecting nothing in return.

He smiled and kissed her shoulder where the trench coat had fallen aside. He could never find the words when he needed them, ever afraid to voice them, but he knew she knew, and that was enough.

2020 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278​ @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart​ @amanda-teaches​ @bakutododeku69 @because-imma-lady-assface​ @broiderie​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @cheritzie​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @covered-byroses​ @crashdevlin​ @deansotherotherblog​ @deansgirl215​ @deanwanddamons​ @defenderrosetyler​ @dontshootmespence​ @emoryhemsworth​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @focusonspn​ @hannahindie​ @herbologystudent252​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @justcallmeasmodeus​ @ladyjenny19​ @laxe-from-outer-space @mariekoukie6661​ @missjenniferb​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @msjava1972​ @mylovelydame21​ @mysticmaxie​ @pilaxia​ @sandlee44​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @squirrelnotsam​ @tatted-trina6​ @typicalweirdbookworm​ 

TWN: 

@rebelemilu​ @pastathighs​ @deans-baby-momma​ @bobbie3939​ @peachyafshawn​ @spencer-reids-babygirl @akrasiaev @shadowkat-83​ @deangirl7695​ @foxyjwls007 @bxbyizzy​ @chenshemesh1 @pandaxo79 

[sdwolfpup]

I waited until the @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange Festive Festival was mostly done before talking about the fics that I was gifted this year, since I know everyone was deluged with wonderful stories, and the ones I was gifted were all excellent and I hope hope hope you make time for each of them. These are the fics I was @’d on in one form or another.

First up is the fic that my assigned writer, @naomignome wrote for me, A Winter Wish. Naomi is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, but she also has an unbelievable knack for description even in comments, and such a good sense of tenderness and emotion and she brought all of that to her fic for me. In this, she takes one of my new favorite headcanons -- that Jaime and Brienne’s moms were friends! -- and transposes them to modern Westeros, where J & B meet as children during a tradition around the first snowfall. What’s especially brilliant about this is that she also keeps the years-long seasons, so the five (plus one) times they meet to do this spans a huge portion of their lives. There is humor and sorrow and flirting and sexiness and love underneath all of it. I was so happy when I saw she was my writer and this fic was fantastic. 

They trudged in good humor to the closest park to the university, the air chilly and cold with the promise of snow. Brienne’s laughs came out in puffs of white, and Jaime yearned to jar the sound and keep it in his pockets for when he felt cold.

When the powdered snow began to drift down around them, he watched her smile openly into the sky, in a way that she only ever did at him and at first snow. He watched some lucky snowflakes catch on the soft tendrils of her pale eyelashes, and kiss the flush of her cheeks.  The warmth wrapped around his heart, much like the mitten she had knit him wrapped around the stub of his hand.

For my stocking stuffers, I’ll go in order received. @potatothecat wrote me campfire stars in the distance. This is a lovely little modern AU vignette of Jaime and Brienne and all of their friends sharing a night around the campfire under the stars. It’s so quiet I can almost hear the crackle of the fire, and I can definitely hear Jaime’s very loud love for Brienne, even if their friends aren’t sure if it’s real between them or not. But they know it is, and that lovely bond between them comes through strongly.

They’ve done this a hundred times by now—on the couches in both their apartments, sitting on the floor across from Addam and Dany when the four of them meet up for game night, in restaurant booths, and now by the fireside—but it’s no less delightful for the familiarity of it. He’d spend his entire life pressed up against Brienne’s side if he could, staring into the dancing flames and laughing along with the rest of their friends as Sansa reenacts a prank she played on her siblings.

Then @eryiscrye wrote me Caught Gold Handed, which is a canon AU set after the Long Night, where Jaime and Brienne get in a snowball fight with the squires and orphans of Winterfell. That summary ALONE should sell you on this, if it being Eryi isn’t enough on its own. What’s marvelous about this is it’s a rare chance to see the canon characters having fun together, and the ways their love for each other comes through even in something as simple as Brienne helping Jaime make snowballs. No one can take this happily married version of JB from me, I will fight you.

She flushed, all blotchy and red. “We already slept in this morning.”

“We hardly slept. And that was this morning,” he replied as he happily pressed up by her side.

She glanced over at him, still shy, but also so bold, his darling lady wife. “We’ll go to bed early tonight.”

Jaime chuckled, “And yet sleep late.”

Brienne bit her bottom lip, “I suppose that is how all our days will go now.”

He beamed at her happily.

@kurikaesu-haru wrote Merry & Bright for a group of us and it is a delightful modern AU that tackles a bunch of tropes - fake dating! only one bed! Christmas activities! - in a fun, funny, and sweet package. The banter in this is wonderful and there are some tender little moments tucked in between the laughs (Arthur Dayne cutout!!) that are lovely to stumble on.

He rests his head against her shoulder, so his stubble scratches her skin, and he’s whispering in her ear. “And I’m glad you tricked me into standing under the mistletoe with you. Who else would I want to kiss as much as you?”

Brienne realizes, suddenly, that a lot of the things Jaime says to her mean,  I love you.

@wildlingoftarth wrote a group gift fic as well, I want a house with a crowded table, which is a canon-based future established relationship fic that feels like coming home to family and sitting by the fire. It’s years and years later and Jaime and Brienne live happily in a cottage on Tarth and they’re welcoming their children and grandchildren for a feast. The weight of all their history and love is palpable. This is everything I want for them, and whatever canon may or may not says happens, this is where I believe they end up.

It is a life she never dared to hope for, never dreamed of in her days of fighting for this king or that, being sent on a series of seemingly impossible errands she accomplished through sheer force of will, and falling desperately and irrevocably in love along the way. That the man she’d fallen for had somehow developed the same feelings for her still fills her with astonishment at times, even after all these years.

THEN, @elizadunc wrote me Fêted Snow! This is a perfectly delicious little morsel of Brienne and Jaime married with kids (and more on the way!!), snowed in and making the most of it. Their banter and way with each other is so easy and familiar, their feelings and history are there, plain as the snow falling down out their window. It’s a delightful slice of their very happy life.

But then it had started snowing on Friday afternoon and apparently hadn’t slowed at all through the night. On Saturday morning when Brienne woke to a very insistently ringing phone she knew that the party, sorry, fête, was off.

She brought the phone back into the bedroom and smiled at the sight of Jaime stretched out across the bed in a starfish pose. He liked to claim he was an excellent bedmate but moments like this proved very much otherwise.

And finally, when my cup was already overflowing, @forbiddenfantasies1 came swooping in with Let’s Make This Next One Last and made me cry. This is a modern AU where Jaime and Brienne are happy and married (I would read eight thousand more stories where they are happy in an established relationship it is literally all I want from them) and their holiday plans get diverted when snow rolls in, cancelling a flight to see Dacey and Benjen (!!!). This fic is such a beautiful treatise on a long-term, mature couple who are struggling through the roteness of daily life. They still love each other deeply, it’s just life that is difficult right now, and their love and commitment to each other is what gets them through it. The tenderness and humor and history and beautifully hot sex are woven together perfectly into this utterly wonderful story.

Jaime was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her, and she felt her heart tighten in her chest for a moment just as it always did when she laid eyes on him. He was still so gorgeous, even after all these years they had passed together. His hair was more gray than golden, and his face was softer, more lined, but she still only saw Jaime. Every mark of time that he bore was simply a reminder of all they had been through together, all the days that he had been hers, and only made him more beautiful in her eyes.

 Right now he looked like the golden retriever she so often compared him to, nearly quivering in his skin with excitement. He had changed into his sleep clothes, a pair of thin gray pants that hugged his hips and thighs in a way that always made her fingers twitch, and a long-sleeved black tee that went perfectly with his complexion. She nearly rolled her eyes before she caught herself. Only Jaime Lannister could make lounging around the house during a vicious snowstorm a testimony of how attractive he was.

Thank you, again, to all of my gifters, I am so grateful to have received these and it helped make my end of the year an absolute joy. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Perfection, My Only Direction 

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit Notes: I couldn’t leave this verse alone after I wrote ‘The Way You Hold Me’, so here we are! I love dabbling with Peter’s perspective & enjoyed every second of this little beauty.  Word Count: ~5.3k Warnings: general career unrest, sexy times Summary: 

Three years into their marriage, Peter finds himself unhappy with his career. Like the good husband he is, Tony anticipates his needs and things get fluffy.

Or - the one where Peter is anxious and Tony is the best security blanket out there.

Read it here on AO3

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“You’ve got to keep quiet, Pete.”

Biting hard on his bottom lip, Peter gripped his office chair a little tighter – Tony’s thrusts were pushing him closer to the desk with every grind of his hips. Despite the office upgrade with the promotion he recently received, Peter knew the walls were still paper thin. The delicious sounds of their coupling were unmistakable – anyone walking by or seeking him out would know exactly what was going on if he couldn’t keep a lid on it.

With that in mind, Peter reached back to grip Tony’s flexing hip with clenching fingers in hopes that the diversion of stimulus would keep the moans from falling from his lips. It didn’t matter, though – Tony knew all the spots and angles to drive him crazy and went out of his way to do exactly that in every moment like this; even when the risk of being found out was higher than most other times. Or maybe because of it.

The professional in him tried desperately to keep a firm line between business and pleasure – his reputation relied on his impeccable mind and the manners in which he treated both the people around him with and the information he presented. He wanted to keep things separate, he really did – yet, Tony posed a weakness within him – despite the resolve, Peter couldn’t ever say no (hell, he didn’t want to).

And that’s how he found himself with his suit pants around his ankles and Tony balls deep within him, his husband’s hands still partially covered in oil and grease from his morning hours spent in the shop. They were supposed to be twenty minutes into a nice lunch at one of the small restaurants on campus – every other day, Tony took a longer break to catch Peter during a time when he actually had seconds and brain bytes to give. Eight times out of ten, they sat across from each other to pick at and share whatever food they ordered. The rest of their lunch time attempts ended exactly like this – wrapped up in each other in one of the worst possible places for it.

A dead-on strike to his prostate brought Peter out of his lust-induced thoughts, the right-here, right-now of the moment crashing down upon him. The feeling of it punched an unavoidable shout of Tony’s name from deep within. “Fuck, I can’t keep quiet when you’re fucking me like this,” Peter groaned, his teeth digging into the flesh of his lip almost enough to break through.

His stomach tightened with Tony’s next thrust, his words obviously amping up Tony’s desire – his own grip on control slipped with every slick sound of flesh meeting flesh. “You can’t just say stuff like that,” Tony got out through a harshly panted breath. “You drive me insane.” He punctuated his words with hard shoves of his hips, the space between them narrowing down even more as Tony’s pace got faster, the length of his strokes shortening in exchange for maximizing flesh against flesh.

By now, there was no mistaking what was happening behind the closed door of his office. His chair clunked against the front of his desk with every thrust and when the furniture wasn’t causing the ruckus, Tony’s muttered curses and Peter’s answering groans were pretty telling. Peter didn’t have the thought power or give a shit to care much, though – not when he was barreling headfirst towards a most exquisite orgasm.

The hands on his hips dug in tightly the closer Tony got, his grease stained fingers leaving behind both grime and bruises – the combination of sight and scent one of Peter’s favorite things. Each clench and tightening of Tony’s fingers brought Peter a step closer to the edge, and when sharp teeth dug into his shoulder to stop noises that couldn’t be ignored, he finally allowed himself to let go. A heart-throbbing release smacked him over the head, the feeling of it blinding him for several long minutes.

Soft lips on his neck kept him grounded through the coming down process, Tony’s stubble and its slight tickle reminding Peter exactly where he was and who was wrapped tightly around him. Coming back to it, Peter took in the chaos of his desk, his most recent papers strewn across it, his pens scattered carelessly upon the floor from the clever sweep of Tony’s hand. He let the aftereffects of physical greatness stick around instead of letting any sort of anxiety overtake him. The shamble around him would need to be set to right, but the moment was consumed by them, by their connection – the chaos of it be damned.

After more than ten years of aggressive academic pursuit, Peter found himself at the tail end of the bell curve, his excitement for the work not nearly as prominent as it was at the beginning of his career. Though cheesy, Peter’s thoughts were consumed with all things Tony. The romance between them hadn’t dwindled as the years together went by. Instead, they seemed to grow closer as time went on – Tony cared so selflessly about him and simply enjoyed everything about his person; quirks and all.

And when he thought about Tony, Peter couldn’t deny how all-consuming his passion and knowledge were. Aside from being unfairly good at taking care of him, Tony had a way about him – his thoughts and ideas were manifested so interestingly – so much so that Peter couldn’t get enough of the puzzle he presented. Where some of his previous relationships lacked in excitement and unpredictability, things with Tony were ever changing and constantly entertaining. When he thought about the likelihood of that shifting, Peter couldn’t imagine it. Not when a single day with Tony ever felt the same. Tony kept himself on his toes, there wasn’t a single doubt that he’d continue to do so with Peter, too.

With the new position within his department, hours were getting longer and the demands upon his time didn’t seem as worth it as they did before. He worked for years to sit in the desk he now occupied, and yet – things just weren’t what he thought they might be. The exploration of information he assumed he would embark upon was riddled with administrative bull shit and irritating bureaucracy that drifted so far from his interests. The shining light at the end of the tunnel didn’t gleam as bright as he imagined it would.

Unwillingly to admit to himself how much he truly didn’t want to continue on in his position, Peter forced himself to continue giving it his all. Despite hating more than most hours of his day, he moved forward. How did one come to terms with years of work panning out in such an unsatisfying way? And after he let himself admit that he was unhappy, what happened next? He thought briefly about bringing it up with Tony but didn’t want to burden him with such indecision. The man already ran his own business that demanded so much time and effort from him – how could Peter add another set of problems to his pile?

The freedom in which he allowed himself to behave recklessly in his workplace showed him how conflicted he really was – the lack of give a damn would’ve brought an uneasy feeling to his stomach in his earlier years. Yet, caring about it seemed like more work than it was worth – his job kind of felt like that, too.

Sighing, Peter leaned into his now cleaned up desk, the papers and such put to right before Tony kissed him goodbye and left with a self-satisfied smirk. The high of being with his striking husband lasted a couple of hours, pulling him through the bulk of his meetings. He even managed to pay attention to some of the things being passed back and forth between stuffy colleagues and university behemoths. Tony’s influence always played a big part in the calm demeanor he portrayed and seemed to be doing it even more so since his shift into the new, more important role.

When the end of the day finally came, Peter rushed from his office, the movement of his feet faster than he ever remembered from times before. Exiting the building, he found that he could finally breath – the weight of his responsibilities shrugged from his shoulders and unable to pull him down any longer. Long strides got him to his car, his bag hitting the passenger seat as he settled behind the wheel. A couple of routine clicks had his phone connected to the car’s Bluetooth and Tony’s number dialed. Their new house was a bit farther from the university than the previous apartment, so Peter spent the commute with Tony in his ear more often times than not.

An all too familiar voice sounded across the line after a couple of rings, the warm timbre of it sending a shiver down Peter’s spine.

“Hey, Petey,” Tony answered, his tone soft, filled to the brim with affection.

“Hey, yourself,” Peter replied through a long exhale, another heavy mass falling off of him now that the connection was sparked again. “I’m so ready to be home. Spinelli talked for ages about a new form of midterm that immediately got voted down by the board. I wasn’t aware you could waste minutes of life like that.”

His last statement dragged a chuckle from Tony’s chest – a steady warmth wrapped around him as the sound settled across the cell connection. “The last dinner party we went to, he dissected the merits of the use of an old-fashioned inkwell pen – I’m not surprised.”

Just like that, the ease in which conversation flowed between them erased all of his tension, the tightness of his muscles and nerves seeping from him bit by bit. By the time he walked through the front door, he felt loose and relaxed, Peter more than ready for whatever the night (or Tony) would throw their way.

Despite the respite of that night, however, Peter found his interest in his job dwindling even more as the weeks passed. The bright luster of the academic world seemed to dull the further he delved into it. Getting his doctorate felt like a dream while in the trenches of a dissertation and TAing a handful of classes. At the time, he felt refreshed and eager to finally get what he worked so hard for – access to the bigger world of knowledge and understanding. The novelty of it left so many things to be desired.

And now – he found that he didn’t desire them anymore. Regardless of the fact that he spent his entire adult life navigating the world in the classrooms of first Cornell and then NYU, his soul craved something more. Until meeting Tony, Peter hadn’t looked much farther than the safety of a classroom – and boy did he want to. The few times throughout their marriage that Peter could get away, Tony swept him off to places he didn’t think to even want to travel to. They played tourist in London and drank way too much at an all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas.

He couldn’t decide what created the wanderlust, whether it was strictly Tony’s influence, but Peter felt a deep desire to experience anything and everything the world had to offer. Many years were spent acquiring knowledge and learning about so many different things. Yet, the times he felt like he was learning the most took place outside the walls of his lecture hall. Perhaps he craved a different style of learning – or maybe he just wanted to see the world and experience everything he possibly could with his best friend.

Whatever the reason, Peter felt himself drifting further away from the familiar – his eyes set more firmly on anything else, something outside of the small little world he looked to have outgrown. Some parts of him already accepted the inevitable – despite the big promotion he just received, he wouldn’t be staying in the field for much longer. The other pieces of him, though – they struggled with letting go of the years of hard work.

Stepping away from the profession wouldn’t giving up that work – rationally, he understood that. The mere idea of being anywhere else made his heart beat a little faster for so many different reasons. One of his biggest struggles came from the fact that he hadn’t told Tony anything about the thoughts rampaging through his head.

Despite that, Peter knew that Tony could feel that something was up. In the grand scheme of things, their collective time together was relatively minimal – three years didn’t a lifetime make. The one thing that was continuously nursed between them, however, was their familiarity with each other. Many couples claimed to be best friends, to know each other like the back of their own hands – yet most fell short. Peter felt like they could claim, with some intense certainty, that their grasp on that concept was tighter than most.

One thing Peter noticed the longer he lived and loved Tony was the fact that there were very few people who actually knew him. Happy, his right-hand man, knew a few more pieces than the rest of the world, but Peter – he got the backstage access to everything that Tony was, wished he could be, and most assuredly wasn’t. Though Peter functioned very similarly, he didn’t struggle with giving up small parts of himself the same way that Tony did. Which – in the grand scheme of things – made their closeness worth even more than imaginable. Tony didn’t mind the curtain being pulled back entirely where Peter was concerned.

Which is why, after several weeks of struggling silently, Peter finally decided it was about time to finally let Tony in on his worries and next steps – the support he knew he’d receive felt necessary now. And that wasn’t to say it wasn’t integral to his existence before; Tony stood beside him and rooted for him in his silently contemplative way. Just being there meant more than Peter wanted to honestly claim.

Now, though – now, he understood how much he needed Tony to not only support him but keep him standing on his feet until he found the next thing – or ran back to whatever university that would take him screaming with both distaste and the comforting feeling of unchanging security. For his sanity’s sake, Peter hoped the next step wouldn’t take him careening down the same useless path, but one never really knew.

Later that evening, Peter got home to a completely lit up house, the entire front entryway almost blinding in how bright it actually was. Squinting against the shine for just a second, Peter felt his eyebrows stay drawn up, a look of confusion slipping across his face. Peter usually beat Tony home on Friday nights, especially those that he decided to dip out of his office a little earlier than actually expected. He quickly shouldered his backpack, the thought of seeing Tony making him feel giddy for the first time since he left the house.

Stepping into the house, Peter let a soft smile slip across his lips. Not only was Tony home, his husband went to the trouble of baking his favorite cookies, if the smell of fresh snickerdoodles was to be believed. His nose practically dragged him into the kitchen, Peter’s lack of lunch making itself known now that the tantalizing scent of cinnamon and sugar sat deliciously in the air.

“It smells amazing in here,” Peter said in the way of greeting, his feet carrying him further in the kitchen as he spoke. Sidling up to Tony, Peter pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the hand not settling on his husband’s hip stretching out to grab two of the still oven-warm cookies off of the cooling rack. “Tastes good, too.” He wiggled his eyebrows, the first of the cookies demolished in a couple of big bites.

Peter forced himself to slow down on the second one by dividing his attention between the scrumptious cinnamon-sugar on his fingers and the delectable man standing in front of him. When he found his hands empty again, Peter finally took notice of the grains of sugar he left behind on Tony’s skin as he kissed and nipped at all of the supple spots he couldn’t keep himself away from.

“Mm, hello to you, too,” Tony mumbled after a while, the moments of silently sucking up the touch and affection gone now. “I thought you could use a little pick me up. I know you had that meeting you hate today.” He felt blindly for Peter’s hand on his hip, their fingers tangling when Tony managed to grasp it with his own. “And the taste of cinnamon off your lips, well…”

Without much warning, Tony turned in Peter’s arms, his butter-greasy hands settling on the nape of a long neck. Their lips met without prompting, the stubble of Tony’s salt and pepper goatee never failing to tickle Peter with every pass and caress. His own hands wandered until they were digging ever so slightly under the hem of Tony’s black denims, the tightness affording him the smallest bit of warm skin against the pads of his fingertips.

They enjoyed the softness of their reunion until the loud blaring of the oven pulled them apart, a soft groan left Peter’s lips when Tony took a step back, the space between them becoming too much with every second. “It’s the last batch,” Tony stated like he knew and understood the dilemma happening within the confines of his mind. “Go get changed. I know we talked about going out tonight, but I think thai food and Netflix might be our best bet.”

Recognizing the gesture for what it was, Peter nodded at him gratefully, his eyes linger on the reassuring expression on Tony’s face. Tony’s eerie ability to anticipate his needs never stopped throwing him off in the best way.

Tired fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt as he walked back towards their bedroom, the garment hitting the floor the first step into their sanctuary. His shoes, socks, pants, and boxer-briefs followed, Peter baring himself completely by the time he walked into their en suite. The big glass shower had been one of the main selling points of the house – thinking about how many times they’d enjoyed the space pulling a huge grin to his face. The walls and door steamed up when he cranked on the water – despite the burning sear, Peter loved to step into a scalding hot shower.

The floating thoughts in his head drifted away under the warm water. Peter took his time soaping up with Tony’s soap, and then later with the fancy tea tree shampoo that overtook his ordinary drug store variety 2-in-1 a long time ago. The tingle on his scalp let a little more of the stress roll off of him – he appreciated the tactile burn of the oil in his pores and the depth of his stomach.

With Tony on the brain, Peter dried himself off and tucked into a plain t-shirt and the softest pair of flannel pajama bottoms, his favorite red and blue color pattern slotting in that final bit of decompression he needed to face the rest of the evening. He slipped into his favorite Ugg slippers and wandered back into the living room – which was dimly lit, the main light completely off with only a few candles scattered around to provide that ambient light. His lips tugged up at the corners, a soft and deliciously warm feeling settling over him at the gesture.

Hands on his hips distracted him from his reverie, the earthy smell of grease that Tony couldn’t quite escape flooding his nose pleasantly. “Feeling romantic?” Peter questioned. One of his hands reached behind him, Peter’s fingers digging into the thickness of Tony’s hair. He gripped the graying locks lightly, the softness there adding to the warmth in his chest.

“Always am when you’re around,” Tony mumbled into the angle created by Peter’s neck and shoulder, his nose pressing into the skin there to take a long, deep breath. Tony’s hands tightened around him for a second, the squeeze something Peter usually only experienced in the heated moments of their burning passion. Yet, he felt no twitch of arousal, just a gentle hum of appreciation for the soft touches and intimate details.

The TV was already on and resting on the Netflix wait screen, the square labelled “Petey” glowing in anticipation of being chosen and artfully navigated when they sat down to enjoy whatever bull shit Peter decided for the evening. His favorite wine was uncorked and left to breathe on the coffee table, his favorite set of glasses waiting to be used. He loved every small thought put into the set up and must’ve said so out loud if the grin on Tony’s face was anything to go by.

They were now facing each other, Peter’s hands wrapped tightly around Tony’s neck and his husband’s own settled lightly on his lower back. “You’ve been stressed, baby. Let me take care of you.” Tony used a finger to tilt his chin up, each word punctuated with barely there kisses to his lips.

Peter let a genuine smile slip across his lips, the muscles of his face already a little sore from the now apparent lack of use. It never crossed his mind that something as simple as a smile could retreat without his notice. Blinking, Peter took in Tony’s face, the expression on it affectionate and the slightest bit relieved.

“There it is. I haven’t seen that grin in months.”

Then – Tony pressed a heated kiss against his lips, the hands-on Peter’s hips gripping him tightly. A flash of heat sparked between them; the intimacy of the moment not lost on either of them. Just as Peter took a step closer, the annoying buzz of their doorbell cut him short. Groaning slightly, Tony shot him a frustrating wink as he stepped away, his hands in the air in a silent surrender. “We’ll finish that later,” Tony promised, his eyes shining brightly.

An hour later found them snuggled together on the couch, the remnants of their thai food on the coffee table in front of them. The slight flicker of the candlelight keeping the room nicely shadowed, like the world revolved only around their small little living room – like the two of them were the only ones to ever inhabit it. For the first time in what felt like months, Peter found himself completely calm, his brain and anxieties included.

“I didn’t know how much I needed this until right this second,” Peter remarked softly, the thought of disrupting the peace of the room with the loud pitch of his voice almost devastating. He ran his hand through Tony’s graying locks, his husband moving into the touch with every slight movement. “How do you always know?” It took Tony a few minutes to reply, the man stuck between leaning into Peter’s clever hands and thinking thoughtfully – the slight crease between his eyebrows the only sign of the latter. Like so many, Peter appreciated this part of Tony, the reverence and thoughtfulness that he brought to their relationship. Words meant something to him and each one played its own role in their conversations. Tony didn’t sling them around carelessly like so many others before him.

Peter let him shift when he felt the slight pressure of Tony’s arm against his side. His husband propped himself up on an elbow, the two of them more equally footed now. “I know you, Pete. I know that you love me and that hasn’t been lacking. But you get home and look so gloomy – like the realization of how shitty the world can be is finally flashing right before your eyes. Don’t get me wrong – “ Tony shifted again, his voice breaking ever so slightly as he wrapped a hand around Peter’s shoulders. “Everyone has to experience the reality of that eventually – I just hoped you’d be spared it.”

His fingers brushed against what bare skin of Peter’s arm they could reach, the rough pads still something that brought him so much comfort. “I’ve been waiting to see if you’d eventually tell me about it – like you always do with everything else. When you didn’t, I thought a little nudge couldn’t hurt.” Tony paused then, his lips pressing against Peter’s forehead. “I just want you to be happy, Pete. That’s all that matters to me.”

Like the words were the opening of a floodgate, Peter found tears streaming down his face. Tucking his forehead against Tony’s neck, Peter let them fall, each second of frustration and distaste culminating into this one, very important moment. Tony held him through it all, his thumb moving to occasionally swipe the tears from Peter’s cheeks, the touch always soft, always soothing.

“I hate my job,” Peter mumbled after a while, his voice thick with tears yet to be cried and slightly muffled from his position against Tony’s skin. “I thought the world of academics would look so much better from the desk I’m sitting behind, but it just fucking sucks, instead. I spent all of that time working towards the ultimate trap. I know it’s there, waiting for me, and I don’t want to fall into it.”

“It’s frustrating when expectations don’t meet up with reality. Why do you think I run my own business?” Tony asked, his hand slipping to cup Peter’s cheek. “Sometimes, you have to take a step back to really see what you want, Petey.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that, Tony never ceasing the loving strokes of his hand across Peter’s skin. His fingers eventually lulled Peter to sleep, the heaviness of the weight he carried over the last few weeks finally dropping to the floor completely to be dealt with later.

The very next morning, Peter woke up to a hand flung possessively over his hip, Tony’s grip on him tight even in the groggy, sleep-addled mornings. Smiling to himself, Peter gave the strong forearm a squeeze before he got himself out of bed and into his usual morning routine. By the time he showered, shaved, and got into his penguin suit for the day, Tony was just rolling over to slap off his own alarm, a warm and happy look on his face. “I won’t miss the grumpiness, but I might miss the suits,” Tony said, his eyes following Peter’s movement from one side of the room to the other. “You look damn good in a tie, husband.”

Making sure the bulk of today’s tie (a black, maroon, and silver combo) pressed against Tony’s chest, Peter leaned down to give Tony a chaste kiss, the man’s lips a little sticky still from sleep. “They’re not going anywhere.” Peter shot him a wink, his hands moving to straighten the length of his jacket. “We won’t have to worry about making them dirty, either.”

Peter left the room to the sound of Tony’s laugh, the sound deep and resounding – the echo of it settling within his chest and keeping him company all the way through his traffic-riddled drive to work.

Several hours later, Peter walked out of his boss’s office, a soft smile on his face. He humbly discussed how much he appreciated the trust and confidence in him, but in the long run, didn’t see himself sitting behind that particular desk. And despite all of the worry and anxiety, Dr. Loughman came off understanding, the knowing look in his eye a lot like Tony’s the night before.

“Some people are born for different types of academic pursuits, Peter. You’ll find yours.”

With those words echoing in his ears, Peter promised to finish off the semester both in his current position and in the lecture hall before moving on to whatever venture came his way next. The thought should have scared him – hell, it did for months before. Yet, knowing how much better he felt having said the words and that, at the end of the day, Tony would still be there to stand against – Peter knew he was doing the right thing, both for himself and the life he planned to live with Tony by his side.

Unlike most days (except Friday), Peter got home before Tony. He quickly got his suit hung up and his comfy clothes on before making his way into the kitchen to start the famous Stark family sauce – Maria made sure he knew how to make it before she let him marry into the family. The memory made him smile and carried him through the couple of difficult parts of the process, almost like Maria was there, guiding him herself.

“It smells like my mother is here,” Tony said in the way of greeting a little while later. His eyes were wide, each cheek spattered with a slight pink from the cold of the day and the happiness he seemed to radiate wherever he went. Peter felt Tony press against his back before he could turn, the older man’s hands boxing him in against the kitchen counter.

“Hey, Pete. You’re looking much better today,” Tony whispered against the shell of his ear, the stubble above his lip pulling a shudder from Peter as he pressed back into the touch.

“I’m feeling better.”

Fiddling with the dials, Peter turned off the burner on the stove and turned in Tony’s arms, their lips sealing together seamlessly. “I gave my notice today. I’m going to finish out the semester and then decide what the hell comes next.”

Tony sucked in a long breath, his hands coming up to frame Peter’s cheeks. “And that’s what you want? That’s going to make you happy?”

The question brought a smile to his face – despite knowing just how much Peter meant it, Tony still felt the need to ask, to make sure. There weren’t many people in his life that Peter could say actually cared about his happiness, and none with the same capacity for it like Tony. Peter tightened his grip then, his hands squeezing Tony’s hips. “It’s what I want. Our life together is too good to stand around and be miserable in my own pursuits.”

“Good, then you’ll be open to new opportunities. I’ve been thinking about adding a research division to Stark Automotive. Want to see what I’m working on?”

Grinning, Peter started to steer Tony back towards their bedroom, the need for little space between them bigger than any sort of hunger for food or further conversation. The simple fact that Tony welcomed him into his life all of those years ago was enough. Yet, Tony had to take it one step further – though he never thought much about working with his husband, Peter found he liked the idea of joining Tony in that aspect of his life, too.

As he looked at the situation now, Peter wanted to shake himself – how could he let the anxiety eat at him the way he did when the most perfect support system stood by his side? Kissing Tony soundly as they collapsed onto the bed, Peter knew one thing for sure – as long as Tony was near, Peter could take on just about anything.

Especially the tricky clasp of Tony’s belt buckle.

[solynaceawrites]

SWEAT AND LEATHER

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, fem!Reader Rating: Explicit A/N: Another Dante/Reader one-shot! This one can sort of, maybe be read as a sequel to Idle Hands if you squint, and takes place post Devil May Cry 5. Because that Henley shirt and those tight jeans are just. So good. I want to give another huge shout-out to @lickitysplitfic​​ for all of her help with this, and if you haven’t read any of her stories, you should definitely check her out.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante is bored.

You can tell from the way he shifts, restless in the bucket seat of Morrison’s car, from the drum of his fingers on the steering wheel, from the low huffs that pass his lips every time he checks the clock on the dashboard and sees it’s only been five minutes since the last time he looked. He’d gotten a job for a demon that seems to be lurking the alleys of the warehouse district; not wanting to endure the required stakeout alone, he’d asked you to come along, and you’d agreed. Now, resigning yourself to the fact that his attention is going to wander your way if the demon doesn’t make an appearance soon, you wonder if you made the right call.

He peers at you from the corner of his eye, his curious gaze like a physical touch. You pretend not to notice, even when he leans back in his seat, stretching so his shirt rides up to expose his hips. It’s warm enough that he’s not wearing his coat, and the Henley fabric clings to him deliciously, accentuating the broad expanse of his chest and his thick biceps, and you steal a glance at the dusting of hair beneath his navel. But when he palms his crotch, not-so-subtly adjusting himself, you can’t help but to scoff and roll your eyes. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not happening.”

“Doing what?” You know he’s smiling from the tone of his voice. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Uh-huh. So you’re not trying to be irresistible?”

This time it’s a frown you hear. “Am I not already?”

You offer nothing but a shrug, leaning onto the door and propping your chin in your palm. It’s not that you’re against having sex with him, or doing it in a car: you’re against having sex with him in Morrison’s car, because you’re certain that man would know no matter how much you scrubbed the evidence away. And getting him to agree to let Dante drive it in the first place had been a fight in and of itself.

Dante yawns, then turns to face you, one arm over the back of your seat. “Mind if I roll down the window? It’s gettin’ a bit stuffy in here.”

“Sure.”

He leans over you and starts to unroll your window, his body covering yours as you shrink into the seat and pray to whatever God there might be to grant you the serenity and patience required not to give in to his charm. Dante looks down at you with a grin, and you roll your eyes again when he says, “You smell good, babe.”

“I thought you meant your own window,” you mutter.

“You looked hot to me,” he replies, leaning closer to nuzzle your neck.

“The demon we’re after isn’t under my shirt,” you say dryly. His hands pause in tugging said shirt up, his fingers barely under the edge, and he runs his nose over the curve of your ear.

Despite your tone, you shiver, and he lets out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Mind if I check?”

“Yes, I mind.”

You try to sound serious, but you’re smiling, almost unwillingly. Serenity, you think, peace. “Can’t help myself. It’s dark and quiet and all I can do is think about the hot girl sitting next to me.” His hand has moved to your knee, where it slowly drags up your thigh, lightly scratching the denim of your jeans.

“Mm-hm.” You tilt your head to the side, not at all surprised when your lips graze over his with how he’s so on top of you, almost like a blanket. “What, exactly, are you thinking?”

“Tryin’ to figure out why we haven’t fucked in a car before.”

“Two reasons.”

“Mm?”

You try not to laugh as he plants a wet, smacking kiss to your cheek, an attempt to distract you as his fingers reach the top of your thigh. “One: we don’t own a car. Two: this is Morrison’s. I already had to beg to get it for tonight. I don’t want to know what he’d do if we had sex in it.”

Dante groans. “Oh, you shouldn’t have told me that. You should not have told me that.”

“Why?”

He cups your sex through your jeans, making you squeal. “Because now we gotta do it,” he moans. You laugh and push on his arm, but he massages you slowly as his lips trail to your ear. “Fuck, the temptation is too good.”

“And where are we going to ‘do it’?” With a sigh, you rub lightly up to his shoulder before wrapping your arms around him. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but you’re a bit tall.”

“Let’s get you out of these clothes first,” he suggests.

“In public?”

“No one’s here but us.”

You look around. True, you’re in a pull-off behind the parking lot of an empty mall. Trees conceal you, for the most part, and all you’re doing is sitting in the car and waiting to see movement from the demon that’s supposed to be here. It’s the third night, with no luck, and still your murmur, “Anyone could drive up. Some locals, the cops . . .”

“You know how to get me goin’, don’t ya?” he growls as he bites your ear.

You take another peek through the window, sweeping carefully over their surroundings with a tendril of magic. When it comes up empty, you slide a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and give the strands a tug, and Dante arches into you with a groan that sends a flush of heat to your core. “If you can figure out how we’d fit . . .” you muse, “I might say yes.”

He turns his face to capture your lips, both of you laughing as you share a long, wet kiss. It reminds you of when you were first together, and Dante was insatiable. Not that is any less all over you now, but he’s usually much smoother, and doing it in the car is just so juvenile that you can’t help the giggles.

He pulls away with a wet smack of your lips and then sits back, reaching between his legs to push his seat back. “Plenty of room on my lap,” he grins, patting his thighs.

“Uh-huh.” You eye him thoughtfully for a moment, your lips still curled in a smile. “Keep your hands over there, handsome.”

Dante opens his mouth, but you’re already grabbing the hem of your shirt, and you pull it carefully over your head, nearly dissolving into another fit of giggles at how his eyes pop with surprise. You fold the fabric and set it on the dashboard, and then you unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your legs, so that all you’re left in is the matching white lace set of underwear.

“Oh, hell yeah.” He grins, holding a hand out.

You grab the steering wheel to pull yourself over the console, climbing into the driver’s side where Dante sits. The wheel turns slightly, knocking you off balance, and you catch yourself with your knee jabbing into his thigh and your elbow hitting the horn and letting off a short beep!

“Easy there,” he winces. Dante grabs your waist and heaves you over, and you press against his chest as you try to figure out a way to straddle him. But he’s so damn big that there’s barely room for him, let alone your legs. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, and with you draped halfway over him, one of your feet on the floor, he grabs your backside and moves in for another kiss, teasing the backs of your thighs.

“Dante,” you murmur. He goes still, waiting, and that’s something that never fails to make you ache: no matter what you’re doing, or where you are, or what you’re saying, he listens. He waits for you. “Can you . . .?”

You nudge his thigh with your knee, and he grunts and shifts as much as he can. But there’s still not enough room for you to straddle him properly; with a huff, he grabs your hips and turns you, pulling your back to his chest and cradling your legs between his own. “Better?”

“Yeah, but, uh . . .” You lean your head back on his shoulder so you can look at him as you grind your backside against his crotch. “How are we going to do this?”

“Oh, I’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry.” He grabs your chest with one hand as the other dips to the top of your panties, and Dante’s mouth presses to your neck, leaving an open-mouthed kiss as he starts to play with your body.

Your eyes drift closed as he works. The two of you have been together for years, and he knows every inch of you, and it isn’t long at all before you’re purring under his touch. “That’s my girl,” he mumbles when you arch and grab at his hair.

You try to open your legs wider, but there’s only so much room on his lap. One knee presses uncomfortably against the door, the other halfway wrapped around the gearshift, and Dante groans as you wiggle in his lap. “Careful, babe, or this’ll be over before we get started,” he laughs.

He removes his hand from between your legs and slides it upwards so he can cup both breasts in his large palms. “There’s just not enough room,” you complain. “Why do you have to be so damn big?”

Dante laughs and presses his hips up, and you can feel the outline of his cock, stiff under his jeans, rub against your rear. “Thought you liked it big,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

You dip your hand between your bodies to give him a squeeze. “This? Yes. I love how it tastes, and how it feels. But I’m not so much a fan of trying to fit both of us in one seat with how broad you are.”

“Got an idea,” he says after a moment. He pushes your forward, giving your backside a playful smack as he reaches over and pops the door open. There is some fumbling, and you’re pressed to the dashboard as he climbs out, and then Dante readjusts the seat before opening the backdoor. He shuts the driver’s side and slips into the back, which is a full bench instead of the bucket seats up front.

He grabs his coat and tosses it into the passenger’s seat and does a bit of a pose as he pulls the back door shut. “Can you climb over?” he asks with a smile.

“I think I can manage that.” Your first thought—to try and make it sexy—quickly proves futile. It’s nearly impossible to clamber over the center console and put a seductive sway in your hips, so you settle for quite literally sliding into his lap, pushing your hair over your shoulder with a laugh. “Next time we do this, I say we use the van.”

“The van, huh?” He grabs at your hips with a lascivious grin.

“More room.”

“Nero would kill us.”

“If he found out.”

You push his shirt up as he laughs again, lifting his arms to help. “You always have the best ideas,” he sighs.

Dante slides his hands into your hair and pulls you into another kiss; this one is deep and passionate and has you gasping against his tongue as you can do nothing to surrender to it. Your hands roam his chest, circling his nippes before tracing the deeply carved muscle, moaning softly when you feel his stomach twitching under your touch. “Lower, babe,” he says against your lips before taking them again, and you easily open his belt and yank the zipper of his jeans down before reaching inside.

He huffs against your mouth when your fingers curl around the base to tug him free, and once the denim is out of the way you give him a slow, appreciative stroke. You’ve seen other dicks, yes, but there’s something about his that’s truly pretty, and you’ve always wondered if that has something to do with his heritage. Dante bucks into your hand, sliding his erection against your palm with another low huff. Then he moves one of his hands down, his wrist brushing yours as he plunges his hand into your panties.

You moan into his mouth when he finds your clit, stroking her boldly. Meanwhile your own hand pumps a steady rhythm up and down the long length of his rigid cock, the air inside the car getting warmer by the second. “Know what this reminds me of?” he pants.

“Hm?”

“That cabin we stayed in on that job up north. The one that was nothing but a shack.”

You laugh against his kiss, remembering it well. It was a fishing hut, to be more accurate, enough room for an overstuffed chair and a small table and nothing else: no bed, no stove, not even a toilet. The client had offered a place to stay as you hunted a creature on his property, and too late to head back and risk getting lost in the woods, you’d roughed it for the night, with you sleeping in his lap as you huddled for warmth. “At least this time I’m not freezing my nuts off,” he teases, using his free hand to yank down the fabric of your bra so he can palm your exposed breast.

You bite your lip, pressing your chest out and dropping your head to his shoulder. “I’m sure we could have found a way to keep them warm.”

He chuckles again, but says nothing, and you tilt your head when his hair tickles your cheek to give him access to your throat. His lips trace along your skin, and you sink into the warmth of him.

You continue on like this for several minutes, kissing and stroking one another, Dante sampling your throat before you bite on his ear. Soon the windows are fogged and both of you are panting hard, and you can feel his cock leaking as much as you yourself are as you stroke him. “Dante . . .” you groan. “I need you.”

He lifts his head from where he’s sucking leisurely on your nipple, catching your chin between your teeth before yanking your panties to the side. “C’mon and do it, babe,” he says.

“Put your hands on the seats.”

He obeys immediately, and you listen to the leather squeak when he reaches behind his head to grasp at the top of the bench. You give him another stroke before lining him up; your head drops back with a long moan as you sink down on him, your body so sensitive that you can feel the blunt head as it stretches your walls, the stiff length that fills you until you’re shaking. Usually, you’d stop before the base, but you want as much of him as you can get, so you work your hips until your bodies are flush and you’re gasping from having him so deep.

“Babe, you look so fuckin’ hot right now,” Dante groans, his voice barely more than a rasp.

You grin and tilt your head, peeking an eye at him. “You’re right. This was a good idea.”

You hold onto his shoulders as you start to move your hips, sliding up and down his length. Dante makes a sound deep in his throat, his arms flexing as he grips the headrest above. “You’re ridin’ my cock like this and I was right about somethin’? Fuck, it’s my lucky day.”

“Are you sure?” You give a breathless laugh. “We’re on a job, which means you’re going to have to fight with the scent of sex on you. I hope you don’t get distracted.”

“You’re always a goddamn distraction,” he pants. Dante’s eyes roam your body as he lifts his hips to meet yours, pumping into you to match your rhythm. “I love distractions.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Before he can reply, you lean in to kiss him, sucking at his lips. The car fills with a heady scent as condensation beads on your skin, and you breathe all of it in, ignoring how his jeans chafe at your thighs and your knees start to stick to the leather seat. The whole thing reminds you of that ridiculous scene from some movie the two of you had watched together and, with a grin, you lean up to press your hand against one of the windows.

Dante slides down a bit on the seat, angling so he can look up at you. His hands move to your waist and he easily lifts you before guiding your body back down, picking up the pace as he reaches his chin up to take a soft bite from the inside curve of your breast. He continues to lift his hips to meet you, slamming into you hard and deep each time until your mouth hangs open with a moan with every pass.

“That’s it,” he pants. “That’s it, baby.”

His grip squeezes and relaxes with every flex of his hips, his mouth hot and insistent against your flesh. “I wish we weren’t in a car,” you mumble.

He peeks up at you. “Why?”

Your thoughts are a jumble of his mouth between your legs and his body pinning yours to the mattress, and you try to pluck one image from the myriad swirling within your mind. “I like it when you fuck me from behind.”

Dante’s answering laugh sends a shiver through you. “Next time, I’ll bend you over the hood of the car,” he says. “Would you like that?”

“Mm,” you sigh. You cup his face and pull him to your lips, kissing him teasingly as you rest for a moment, his cock filling you completely.

His hands slide from your waist around to your backside, taking your body in a firm grip. You wrap your arms around his neck, slowly grinding your hips as he massages your rear; then he slides his fingers along your seam, making you groan as he strokes your body. “You ready to come yet, babe?” he murmurs, the tone of his voice dark as he touches her and begins to pump his hips slowly.

“If I say no?” you murmur.

He grabs your hair and pulls you forward against him. “Then you’re getting left behind, because I’m about to fill you up.”

You look up at him, holding his gaze as you tug his hand from your hair and guide it between your legs. His lips curl ever-so-slightly before you cover them with your own, and you gasp against them when he dips his fingers under your hood and begins to give your clit quick, firm strokes.

Murmuring his name, you lean forward to seal your mouth over his. You grind against his hand as you rock your hips, riding him hard as you chase the orgasm that is rapidly approaching. Tilting up, you lean forward so he has to lift his chin to stay connected by your kiss, and at the new angle his cock hit a spot inside you that sends pleasure ricocheting through your body.

"Dante!" you shout just as your orgasm hits. It feels like your nerves are snapping, electricity pulsing as you break from the kiss and arch your back. You hear him laugh as his mouth presses to your chest, giving you a love bite, but his touch is relentless as he works your clit through the waves of pleasure.

You're a mess of trembling limbs and heaving breath when he lets out a groan that is feral and deep, and you sag against him as his hips begin to batter your thighs, his seed filling you in searing pulses. There's so much of it that it slips back over his cock as he empties within you, his teeth biting your skin harshly enough to bruise; then he slows, pumping leisurely instead of frantically, until he's merely rocking against you. Dante nuzzles your chest, your neck, planting a trail of sweet kisses while he cradles you against him.

"You alright?" he rasps. You give a little nod. With a low curse from him and a whimper from you, he slides his cock out of your body. "Holy shit."

You laugh, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. "Yeah."

Dante massages your back for a minute as your breathing slowly returns to normal. "Hey babe?" he murmurs.

"Hm?"

"I think we got company."

You bolt upright to see him nodding towards the window, his brows drawn into a frown. "Is it the cops?" you gasp.

"I wish." Awkwardly Dante tries to slide out from under you, and you try to untangle your limbs in the cramped backseat while grabbing clothes. It is a flurry of movement that has you both jabbed with elbows until he pulls the latch on the door and Dante falls halfway out, his head on the grass outside and his pants caught up on the seatbelt and pooled around his knees.

You peer over him to see the demon lumbering from the shadows, its baleful glare fixed on the car, and you groan as you lean over the front seat to grab his guns to toss to him. "Goddamn it," you mutter. "Morrison is gonna kill us if we wreck his car."

[hazbincalifornia]

Mine

Chapter 19:  Blitzo gets some release... eventually.

Warnings: Mpreg, explicit sexual content. The actual smutty stuff starts after the line partway through.

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

Blitzo stared up at the balcony, one eye twitching as the rope tied to it flapped in the wind. Stolas was somewhere out of sight- probably laid out on the bed with a rose in his mouth. At the thought, Blitzo could feel his lower muscles clench and he gritted his teeth.

An hour ago, when he’d sent the text message, there had been no response. Not even a read notification. Stolas had practically been begging him to come over before, what was the deal? Was he busy? Oh sure, great, the one time Blitzo needed him...

He’d sent another message. Then another one. By the fourth (approximately seven minutes after the initial text) Blitzo was starting to bounce on the bed again, groaning as heat burned him from the inside out. Visions of feathers and the sharp snap of a beak danced through his head, and one hand clutched at his stomach, claws digging just barely into the skin to keep him from slipping away entirely as the other hand jabbed the ‘call’ button.

It went to voicemail.

“Stolas. Answer your goddamn phone. Ghhh-” His hand had drifted back down between his legs. “F-fuck, you’re the one that always wants me to pound you, so will you be there when I actually need you? I need to feel your tight little ass and your soft feathers and bite into your neck, I wanna watch you go red and feel you pulsing around me.” The bedframe squeaked as he humped the mattress for emphasis. “I swear to fuck if it was possible I’d give you all this back, fuck you full until you know what it’s like to be carrying this little bastard. You’re gonna be my bitch and you’re gonna like it.” Blitzo panted for a moment. “Call me back, because we are going to fuck or I’m shoving a cactus up your ass, got that?”

Blitzo had then jabbed ‘end call’ and fell back on the bed, pulling his fingers out of himself and staring at the ceiling for a minute as his heart pounded. He was about to reach for the dildo again when his phone started buzzing- Stolas had responded by sending several texts, one right after another.

!!!!

That’s wonderful Blitzy! I was in a meeting, I’m so sorry!

Stella should have left just an hour ago, I’ll check but the house is ours for a few days. Your timing is impeccable.

Do you need a ride over?

Blitzo had rolled his eyes and replied, swiping his jizz-soaked hand on the pillow to clean later.

its fine i hve a van. b over ther soon

Another reply from Stolas.

❤️ I assume you’ll want to use the front door, I’ll tell the servants to let you in. The balcony might be difficult in your condition.

Blitzo had hissed at that, glaring down at the phone.

ru saying i cant do it? fck u, Ill go up the usual way

Are you sure? It’s no trouble.

just b ready

Blitzo scrubbed his legs down with five different washcloths in the bathroom and pulled on pants- and they were nice tight ones that showed off his butt too. He stuffed his phone in the pocket before tugging on the lightest shirt in his closet- a long-sleeve mesh thing he’d gotten for partying. It had been a crop top before, so at least when it rode up he could pretend it was supposed to look like that. He considered for a moment before deciding against a light jacket- he was gonna be going straight to the mansion and in the van for most of the way. Finished, he struck a pose in the mirror, and yeah, maybe it was the unbelievably horny hormones, but he looked and felt hot as shit right now.

Then, of course, he’d reached the mansion and realized that he needed to scale a rope up fifty feet while pregnant, and some of the enthusiasm drained away as the brat shifted around inside of him.

“Okay. You’ve done weirder shit,” Blitzo said aloud, cracking his knuckles before curling both hands and his tail around the rope. Climbing ropes were easy. He could do this in his sleep. Probably had at some point, or at least while drunk. He’d been in the circus and did all kinds of crazy physical stunts for IMP, a single rope while he had some weight around his middle was nothing.

He got about three feet off the ground before realizing that the whole ‘fucked center of gravity’ thing combined with the sweat on his palms and slick already starting to soak his pants might pose a problem. No matter, he could still do this. He steeled himself, fingers flexing around the nylon as he shimmied up a bit more, thighs clamping and releasing as his hands moved up over each other.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Squirming inside that made him lose his grip. The rope burned as he slid down, legs getting double-soaked in the slick already starting to make the line smell like a glory hole.

His phone buzzed, but checking it would require letting go of the rope, and nothing was going to make him do that. He snarled, starting to climb again. Left. Right. Left. Right. Time slipped away as he laser-focused on trying to get up the damn rope. Come on, he’d done it a couple times before and he’d always made it, he wasn’t going to be a fucking pussy-

“Sir?” A voice that reminded Blitzo of an airport announcer cleared its throat from behind Blitzo and he nearly lost his grip again, biting back a yelp.

“What the fu-”

It was an imp in a spiffy little suit with a mouth pressed into a thin line and a cracked horn. Butler, probably. “His highness Prince Stolas had requested that I make sure that you were alright.” His fingers were interlaced tightly enough that Blitzo could see the veins popping out. “If you need, I can escort you to his room.”

“I know where his fuckin’ room is, that’s where I’m going,” Blitzo snarled.

“It’s been fifteen minutes since you arrived, sir. He’s waiting.” The ‘sir’ had enough venom to kill a Magne, and Blitzo looked up to the balcony, then down to the ground. He doubted he’d cleared twenty feet and his palms were feeling slippery again.

There was a moment of contemplation before he started sliding back down. “Not one fucking word from you, got it?”

The other imp just nodded, directing them to a side door. At least Blitzo was taller than him so he could feel a little less like a kid caught pissing in the parking lot, and at least these pants were absorbent enough to not leave a trail.

___________

It was like a reverse walk of shame, considering he hadn’t even gotten laid yet. The little butler was, mercifully, good at being quiet, only existing by the clicks of his little feet on the floor and the fact that Blitzo saw him out of the corner of his eye while doing his best to stare straight ahead. He knew vaguely where Stolas’s room was going the normal way, but today the mansion felt labyrinthine, conniving to keep Blitzo from getting to the damn bed. He was pretty sure he was squeaking as he walked now.

After about five agonizing minutes in which he sorely regretted wearing tight pants considering his cock was already straining at them, they finally neared the right room, and Blitzo could practically smell Stolas through the door, all rich cologne and earthy soil and cinnamon. The butler knocked only once before nearly getting knocked out when it flew open, smacking him in the face. Blitzo barely noticed, staring up and up at Stolas who was dressed in only a loose bathrobe.

Man. For having only not seen the guy for two days, he’d somehow managed to forget just how huge he was.

He didn’t have very long to contemplate that thought however as Stolas scooped him up in his arms, twirling him around like a doll with pupils glowing white. “Ohhhh, I’m so excited! And you dressed up for the occasion too, what a sexy little top there.” One finger traced over his belly, hooking at the bottom of the mesh. “Leaves nothing to the imagination…”

If he wasn’t going to mention the rope thing going tits-up, Blitzo wasn’t either. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a sex god and you want me, can we just get to the part where I get to fuck you already? You have no idea how uncomfortable is is to be walking around dripping like a faucet.”

Stolas laughed, nuzzling against Blitzo’s cheek before settling him down on the bed. “You certainly seemed eager on the phone! So no roleplay for now?”

“Just get your feathery butt over here so I can pound it into bird-meat,” Blitzo growled, frantically tugging at his pants as Stolas gave a pleased hoot, shedding his robe in mere seconds before crawling atop the bed, already aroused.

“So forceful when you talk dirty…”

“You like that, don’t you?” Blitzo considered taking his sweaty shirt off before realizing that was coordination he didn’t have at the moment, considering his fingers had gotten slippery just trying to remove his damn pants. He liked this shirt, he didn’t want to tear it. Taking in a deep breath, (fuck, Stolas the full thing smelled so much better than just his stupid shirt had) he peeled his underwear off, chucking them across the room hard enough that they hit the wall with a soft ‘splat’ and slid down, leaving a slimy trail. Red fingers curled around gray thighs, spreading Stolas wide with a snap as the prince let out a tiny ‘eep’.

“Right to it then!” His tone was eager, toe-claws flexing in and out as Blitzo reached between his own legs to coat his fingers more thoroughly in whatever pre-jizz junk had been oozing out of him for too damn long.

“You’re so eager, aren’t you?” Blitzo could practically feel his voice lowering as his cock pressed the rest of the way out, oozing more of the lube-juice against his fingertips. “You want me inside of you, filling that perky little ass of yours until you can’t fucking walk.”

“Yes, yes!” Stolas wiggled a little with a wide grin as Blitzo shifted closer, lifting the owl up so he had better access to his backdoor, probing in with his fingers for only a second before driving in hard, getting an absolute howl out of Stolas that faded into a moan.

“You’re mine for however long it takes to get rid of this heat shit, got it? You’re my little toy today, because this is all… your… fucking… fault.” Blitzo accented each of the last four words with a thrust and Stolas gripped at the sheets, tail thumping up and down on the bed with each one. One of the thumps sent a white feather fluttering up and Blitzo stabbed it with his tail, glaring at it as his claws dug into Stolas’s legs. All thoughts were starting to flood his mind except for the heat around him and the legs clutched in his fists. “Mine. You hear that?” He reached up for Stolas’s chest, hauling him up by gripping a handful of feathers with sticky fingers.

Because of his height, Stolas was staring down at him with now-flushed cheeks, but Blitzo couldn’t find it in himself to care because he was still all the way in, walls tightening around his dick with slick spilling out and soaking the sheets. “You’re property of Blitzo as long as I want you.” He grabbed Stolas’s wrist with one hand, shoving the palm flat against his middle. “Your baby, your fucking problem.” The hand still gripping Stolas’s chest tugged him down, pulling him into a kiss as a few downy feathers drifted down to the bedspread.

Blitzo was very, very glad they’d figured out kissing a while ago, because his brain was running on heat-daze and frustration and he never would have been able to figure it out now. He could feel Stolas’s hot breath down his throat and a hot feathered body pressed against his own and the palm on his belly, and when he thrust again he could feel the gasp Stolas made.

“You like that?” Blitzo almost breathed, fire singing in his veins. “Of course you do, I’m fucking good at this. Now lay down and take it like you always want to. You’re mine, and I want all of you.” He smeared some of the lube stuff off his fingers and onto the end of his tail, wrapping it around Stolas’s cock. Stolas fell back on the bed, shuddering a little with a dreamy grin.

“Take me, Blitzy.”

If he hadn’t already been about to pound Stolas to within an inch of his life, the breathy way he said that would have done it.

“You’re asking for it,” Blitzo snarled out, pulling back and snapping forward as his cock squirmed inside of Stolas, the owl throwing a hand over his forehead as the bed snapped against the wall from the force, his tail starting to stroke up and down on Stolas’s length. The smell of Stolas’s arousal was getting him off almost as much as the actual fucking was, and he wanted more of it. “Don’t you want to take advantage of all your hard work? Look at me. I said, look at me.” He smacked at Stolas’s side before continuing jerking him off and all four eyes shot back open. “You put this kid in me, you’re gonna watch as I fuck you right back.”

“I’m watching, I’m watching,” Stolas said, eyes falling back to half-lidded. “You look s-so delicious like that… I could just eat you uuuuuup!” The word dragged as Blitzo curled the tentacle of his cock down, clearly hitting the g-spot from the way that Stolas’s lower eyes started twitching. He started moving his tail up and down faster, curled tightly around Stolas’s length.

“C-could say the same to you, you look and smell so so good…” Blitzo could feel something building, and would have been embarrassed that it was so quick if he hadn’t been trying to bust properly for days now. “Gonna fill you up, take it, take all of it you fucking-” He came before finishing his sentence, gasping as he pumped load after load into Stolas, seeing the owl actually bloat slightly on his thin waist from the sheer volume. Stolas more fell than laid back, panting as Blitzo pulled his tail back, the owl’s cock still twitching and on the edge.

“Mm, so full, B-Blitzy-”

“Finish for me.” It was a voice that invited no discussion. “I want to see you jerk yourself off.”

Stolas nodded, wrapping his fingers around himself and stroking up and down while biting down on the skin under his beak. It only took a few pumps before he cried out Blitzo’s name, semen splattering his feathers as he panted from the aftermath.

“Good bird.” Blitzo looked at Stolas’s sticky fingers as they traced over the owl’s body, palm resting flat upon his slightly-bloated stomach.

“That was more than usual.” The words were light, all four eyes eyes glowing as he prodded at it. “You were excited, weren’t you? Wanted to really fill me up- I don’t know if I’ve ever been able to see it like this before. It felt fantastic, and we match now!”

“Oh, hardehar. Come back when my jizz makes you puke up acid and your gut starts moving.” Still, he couldn’t hold back a half-smile as he rolled his palm over his still-erect cock. “So, good and bad news.”

“Mmmm?” Stolas tilted his head.

“Good news is that I’m ready for another round already.”

“And the bad news?”

“Whatever this heat shit is, it didn’t go away yet.”

Stolas tapped the middle of Blitzo’s face as he grinned. “Ah, so it’s only good news, then.” He pulled Blitzo into a kiss and the imp shifted onto his lap before pressing up against Stolas's face, not caring that Stolas was a sticky mess but only that his mouth and that beak felt perfect at this exact moment.

They had plenty of time, after all, and now that he was here, Blitzo planned to enjoy every damn second of it.

[kpopmalereader]

a friend ; ten

• summary: you are very much in love with ten. however, because you are best friends with lucas, he chooses to use your feelings against you as he tries his hardest to convince you to confess and to set you and ten up • pairing: ten x male!reader • word count: 3635 • to do

i changed the request a bit, so, i’m sorry about that but i hope you enjoy

The loud music booming through the dance room seems to make the floorboards you're sitting on shake and move. Their combined steps and powerful movements add to the shaking feeling and you nod your head along with the beat.

You try to watch whoever is in the middle of the dance or who's singing but you're eyes continue to fall right back to Ten. His dancing goes from sharp to smooth and facial expressions shifting from cute to sexy seem to happen effortlessly and you're not surprised he's an idol. He seems to be born for the stage. Born to dance. Born to perform for people.

The song ends with a bang, each member standing in strong poses.

You clap and cheer as the music fades.

All of the members go from an idol performing in front of fans to falling onto the ground, groans coming from some of them. Lucas leans against Yangyang, almost pushing him towards the ground, looking like he'll fall asleep on his feet. Kun downs a bottle of water before you can blink and Xiaojun isn't that far behind.

You smile at each of them, knowing they're tired and want to leave but at the same time want to continue to practice and head towards perfection.

Ten collapses next to you. His sweaty forehead presses against your shoulder and you try not to shudder (either from disgust or simply from how close he is to you.)

“Do you want me to order you guys some food?” You ask, heavy breathing being the only other noise in the room. “Order it to your apartment so you can collapse in your beds instead of on the hard ground.”

“I would love you forever if you did.” Lucas hums, stealing a water bottle from Win.

“Me too,” Ten adds.

Your heart quickens and you nod, attempting to hide your shaking hands by typing as fast as you can. You quickly order enough food for the group with the appetite of an army. Ten looks over your shoulder, pointing to a specific food he wants. You tilt your head in pretend-thought about ordering the food.

“Maybe,”

“Please~” Ten whines and pouts dramatically, shaking your arm back and forth.

You try not to swoon at his expression and nod your head.

“Okay.”

Ten's smile is brighter than the sun. What's the brightest star in the sky? Ten's smile has that beat. He kisses your cheek very quickly, a light brush against your face that is barely there.

Your eyes go wide as he stands up. He tells you where he's going but for once you're focusing on something other than his voice.

The area he kissed burns red-hot on your face. You wonder if there will be a visible mark for the rest of your life and you aren't too upset if you'll always be able to feel it.

Lucas' smirk and delight at your reaction radiates off of him, worming it's way right to your chest. He slowly takes the steps over to you, waiting for your reaction to return back to normal.

“What's that about?” He asks, taking a long sip of his drink.

“What?”

“Your face is redder than a firetruck.”

“It's hot in here.”

“You're hot for a completely different reason.”

“Shut up. I'm not used to public affection, it caught me off guard.”

Lucas sits next to you, incredulity plastered across his face and demeanor. “Seriously? Okay, even if you weren't used to affection, you're really telling me that you would react the same way if I kissed your cheek? Or if Xiaojun did? Or literally anyone else? Come to terms with it, babe, you-”

You smack your hand over his mouth, nostrils flaring. “Shh. Shut up.”

Lucas cackles at your reaction, physically falling onto the floor. He just about rolls around as he mocks you. He only stops drawing attention to it when you stand up.

“What's going on?” Kun asks you as you pass.

“Y/N is being dramatic.” Lucas answers.

“Lucas is being an asshole.” You correct.

*

“Hey, Y/N?” Ten catches you as you walk past his door. “I don’t completely trust anybody else’s opinion. How do I look?”

You can feel your ears start to heat up and you take a step back, bumping into the hallway wall, to look at him. “Uhm, great! You look… perfect. Great. Good.”

Ten giggles and poses before he turns to the side to look at his outfit. “Thank you!”

You hesitate before asking. “Where are you going?”

“Out with a few friends.” He answers. “Do I really look okay?”

“Yes, really. Perfect.” You repeat. Your attention drifts from listening to what he’s saying and helping him out to simply looking at him and not-so-subtly checking him out. You knock yourself out of it and point at him, trying to pretend you weren’t staring. “You should try a necklace though. You know that choker one? I think that one would look… good.”

That’s not the word you were going to use.

Ten hums and steps back, moving to his dresser. He holds one up and you nod. “Nice choice, thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“I don’t think anyone would know a specific necklace I wear.” He puts the necklace on and looks at himself in the mirror.

“I notice a lot.” You say. Especially when it comes to you. “You look great. Why are you so nervous?”

Ten shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not sure. For the last few days, I’ve had this need to impress people. I don’t know if it’s a specific person I’m trying to impress or if I’m trying to impress everyone.”

“You don’t need to impress anybody. You’re very pretty and everyone knows. You could go out wearing sweatpants and a seven-year-old t-shirt and you would still be the most magnificent person there.”

“Magnificent?” Ten asks with a shy smile you hardly ever see.

You nod, not trusting yourself to open your mouth. Your face is a not very flattering shade of scarlet by now.

“Thank you.” He says.

He turns back to the mirror and you walk away slowly.

Lucas raises an eyebrow when you flop into the couch. “How did you keep your crush on him hidden from me for this long? You didn’t look like you were breathing the entire time you were talking to him.”

“Probably because I wasn’t.” You curl into yourself and bang your forehead against your knee. “Something about him makes me stutter and trip over my own mouth. He was talking about wanting to impress someone and I hoped it was me he wanted to impress even though God knows he isn’t trying to. He doesn’t need to try to! He walks into a room and I have a heart attack.”

“I have a crazy idea,” Lucas pulls your head up. “Tell him about how you feel.”

“You’re right. That is a crazy idea.”

“Y/N,” Lucas starts, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. “I know I pick on you about this and everything else, but you like him. It’s so obvious that you like him a lot. Maybe you should try and tell him, confess and see if he likes you back. That’s better than looking into everything he says or does.”

“But me freaking out over everything he does is better than ruining a friendship when he turns me down.” You argue. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Lucas sighs and lays against you, already concocting a plan.

*

“Sorry,” Lucas lays on his bed, video game controller balancing on his stomach. “I completely forgot about it and I’m doing something right now but uh… Y/N is free. He’s just sitting in his room feeling bad about himself.”

“Feeling bad about what?” Ten switches the phone to his other shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“You’d have to ask him about that, but I’m sure he would be fine enough to film the dance for you.”

Ten hums and picks at his fingernails. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll text him.”

“Good! Okay!” Lucas hangs up the phone shortly after and does a small victory dance as he grabs his controller. “Point Lucas!”

Ten paces around for a minute. He doesn’t have a reliable way to record this dance. Lucas flaked and it’s embarrassing to ask some random staff member to record him who knows how many times. Especially for some dance that’s not even for a project for the company and is just something personal. He is worried about what Lucas was saying, that you’re sitting in your room feeling bad.

“Hello?” You sit up, blanket falling off of your shoulders.

“Hey,” Ten scuffs the ground with his foot and scrunches his nose. “Are you busy?”

You’re definitely not. “No, not really, what do you need?”

“Do you think you could come down to the studio and record a dance for me? Someone else was supposed to come and film for me but they bailed, and you came to mind.”

You pull at one of your ears and nod. “Yeah, okay. I just have to get dressed and then I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, see you soon!”

The elevator dings at every floor you pass, light shining through the centimeter gap between the doors. You look at the front-facing camera on your phone and obsessively try to perfect the casual look you’re faking.

“3rd Floor.”

You nod at the imaginary woman announcing the floors and walk a few feet out of the elevator before dread and panic sets in. You side-step to the railing looking over the main floor. You breathe in and out of your nose slowly while you wait for your heart to fall back to your chest.

A few workers pass, some of the more formally dressed ones giving you some questioning looks while you try not to panic. What might be an hour, might be one minute, passes and you push yourself off the railing. Your want to be casual and the contrasting need to run makes your walk seem much shadier than you intended.

The music Ten is playing can just be heard outside the door and you inch the door open slowly. He stops mid-turn, one of his feet floating above the ground.

“Hey.” He smiles and pauses the music. “I’m happy you made it. Thank you.”

You shake your head. “No problem.” I’m happy to be near you. “Don’t the staff members normally record for you?”

“Normally, but this dance is more of a personal type project instead of something for NCT or WayV.” Ten nods and hands you the speaker remote. “Do you mind if I dance it multiple times? I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

“I’m yours for as long as you need.” You hope your cringe isn’t too obvious.

Ten winks at you with a sly smile. “That’s the way I like it.”

You sit in front of the mirror, catching Ten’s phone when he tosses it. He jumps twice before nodding his head. His face shifts from friendly and flirty to cocky and mischievous. You start the recording and the music, making sure everything is in focus. He begins his dance and you start to think agreeing to this was a bad idea.

Your grip on the phone tightens, eyes locked on his every move. You wouldn’t be surprised if your jaw was on the floor. You hold onto your wrist to steady your shaking hand. Watching him through the phone feels less awkward and stalker-like than openly staring as he dances but you don’t get as good of a view as you would if you were physically able to look at him without making yourself look like a fool.

He finishes the dance but notices something you couldn’t and decides he needs to redo it almost immediately. “Restart please.”

You nod your head and cut the recording first. You press the record button again, mentally preparing yourself a bit better before starting the music again. He begins to dance again and fixes the part you didn’t realize needed fixing.

Confidence comes off of him in waves as the dance ends. “Okay, can I see it?”

“Mhm,” You hand him the phone.

He doesn’t spend near enough time to look through the whole dance, looking at specific spots before handing the phone back.

“One more time.” He smiles at you. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I want to be here, and I like watching you dance.”

“Hey, I was talking to Lucas earlier.”

“Oh, god.” You mumble, eyes as big as saucers.

Ten doesn’t notice or pretends not to notice the change and continues. “He said something about all you’ve been doing today was sitting in your room and feeling bad about yourself? Is that… true?”

You breathe half a sigh of relief before the real question sets in. “Uhm, I haven’t been having the best couple of days. It’s nothing. Just like normal, I guess.”

“What do you mean like normal?” He walks back over to you. “What about yourself would you feel bad about?”

“Nothing.” You shake your head but the soft and sincere he looks cracks right through any façade you could put up. “A lot of stuff, but it’s nothing I need to worry you about.”

He sits in front of you and grabs one of your hands. “We’re friends, aren’t we? You can talk to me. What’s in your head?”

You’re holding my hand and fireworks are going off in my stomach.

A beat passes.

“I like someone. They’re an amazing person. I’ve liked them for a couple months now, Lucas recently found out, but I don’t know why for the past couple days I’ve felt like shit over it. Just thinking about them makes me feel weird and thinking about the positive possibilities is great and I love those thoughts but realistically…” You zone out for a few seconds before shaking your head. “I don’t know. I guess that’s what’s been bothering me.”

Ten frowns, squeezing your hand. He speaks in a low voice. “Y/N, you’re great! Don’t think about the negative things that could happen. Without actually asking whoever you like out you’ll never know what could’ve happened.”

“I would rather not know what might’ve been instead of ruining what we already have.”

“That’s such a negative way to think about it.” Ten shakes his head and moves to sit next to you. “Come on. You’re amazing. And even if the other person doesn’t feel the same way, no one would want to lose you as a friend.”

“Thank you.” You smile and pat his shoulder. “You should get back to the dance. I don’t want to take up more of your time.”

And being so close to you I feel like I might catch fire.

“You seem upset.” Ten sighs.

“It’s okay. I just needed to get some thoughts out. Thank you for listening.”

He smiles and ruffles your hair. “I’m always here for you. Always.”

“Let’s get back to dancing. Before my heart explodes.”

He points finger-guns at you and winks, giggling as he stands back up. “Okay! Let’s do this!”

*

“Hey,” Ten sits next to you, moving a shoebox to the ground. “I noticed you were sitting alone and decided to sit next to you.”

You shrug your shoulders. “Lucas thinks I take too long to try out shoes.”

“You’re just thorough.” He looks down at your shoes and gives a nod of approval. “I’m glad you came with us. And, whether we’re going shopping like this or if you want to go out to eat, you’re always allowed to come with us. You don’t have to ask Lucas or worry about it.” Ten smiles at you and you pull those shoes off, untying another pair. “Are you feeling any better about what we talked about? Your… crush?”

You nod your head at the question and really me it. Your stomach still flips when you see Ten but at least your hands aren’t shaking as bad as they used to be. “Yeah, I’m coming to terms with my feelings and what might happen. He means a lot to me as a friend and I hope I’m the same for him, so if my feelings come out, it won’t be terribly awkward for too long and we’ll still be friends no matter what.”

He smiles at you and throws his arm over your shoulders. “I’m glad. You seem more relaxed and you’re already speaking more positive about it! I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You nod your head, and everyone can see the more-than-happy smile you’re wearing. “But now I need your help, which pair do you like better?”

Lucas walks through the store looking for you. He’s thankful for his height when he sees you and Ten being friendly over the aisle he’s standing in. Your smile is genuine as Ten points at your shoes and Lucas can tell, even from four feet away, that you’re not as panicked as you used to be.

You seem to settle on a pair of shoes, handing one of the boxes to Ten. “Thanks.”

“Always here for you,” Ten nods and turns around, spotting Lucas’ head over the shoe rack. “Hey, spying on us?”

“Mhm.” Lucas nods. “I don’t know what you two could be doing.”

You roll your eyes and slide your own shoes on. “If you didn’t know what we were doing wouldn’t you close your eyes instead of creepily staring at us?”

Ten smiles and leans toward you to whisper. “He does seem like he would be into some weird stuff.”

You giggle at Ten’s sentence, breaking into full laughter at Lucas’ confused expression. You put the decided-against shoes back on the shelf. “Did you need something?”

“I just noticed you two weren’t with us. Go back to doing whatever you were doing.” Lucas smiles and winks at you as he passes. “But we’re leaving soon. So, I would wrap it up.”

You take the shoebox from Ten and begin to walk to the register. “You can go with everyone else if you would like.”

“Nope. I’ll walk you up there.” He shakes his head, falling in line beside you. “So, I was wondering, and if you have a crush on someone, I want to know-”

Oh no.

“Some things about them. What are they like? They must be pretty great if you like them so much, but I feel like I need to approve of them before anything happens.”

You breathe out and press the box against your stomach. “They are great.”

“Yeah?”

You’re sure you have a dopey smile on your face but you’ve begun to not particularly care about making a fool of yourself. “He’s amazing… I think I’ve always had some lingering romantic attraction to him but I couldn’t really tell the difference between the platonic emotions and the romantic ones. But recently my romantic emotions towards him bubbled up enough for it to become noticeable to me and also some other people.”

One of Ten’s eyebrows perks up. “Well, I haven’t been able to see any difference in the way you talk or act around people I’ve seen. Maybe it wasn’t that obvious.”

I’m pretty sure it was.

“He’s great. He likes music, he’s a dancer, he’s very funny. And he’s incredibly smart but I think some people have a tendency to underestimate his brilliance.” You shake your head and look at the ground, trying not to describe Ten exactly. “And, something but not the most important thing, he’s so cute.”

Ten laughs and pinches your cheek. “You’re turning so red. You really like him, huh? That’s good. I hope it works out for you. You deserve a good person.”

“Thank you. You do too.” You place the box on the counter and nod at the cashier. “That’s it, thank you.”

The cashier rings the shoes up and you hand your card over.

“I would be lucky to have someone who cared as much as you do.” Ten mentions. “About everyone. Not only your crush or who you like romantically, but you seem to care so much about everyone you come across.”

The cashier bags the shoes and hands them to you. “Have a good day.”

“You too.”

Your friendly smile aimed at the cashier falls as soon as you turn around, remaining half-a-step in front of Ten as you walk out, thousands of thoughts bouncing around inside your skull. Ten raises an eyebrow at you as you walk, rethinking over everything he said before, wondering if he said something wrong.

“Ten.” You turn to him outside the store. “We drove here in two different cars, so, I’m going to say this now.”

Ten nods slowly. “Okay…”

“I like you. You’re the one I talked about, you’re my “crush”. I’m afraid of losing you as a friend, and I don’t want to, but I think you should know about my feelings.” The quick nodding of your head devolves into shaking your head and you switch the bag between hands.

Ten does nothing but blink for a few seconds and lets the words sink in. “Oh.”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t. We’re still friends.”

A force-field seems to appear between you and Ten, knocking all of the air out of your chest in a single movement. You’re unable to look straight at him as you nod your head.

“Yeah. Yeah.” You clear your throat and point over your shoulder. “I’m going to go find Lucas. Tell him we can go now. Thank you. For talking and sitting with me. I appreciate it.”

“Y/N,”

“It’s okay. We’re still friends.” You smile at him. An artificial smile that breaks Ten’s heart in as many pieces as yours is. “I understand, and us being friends is all I’ll ask of you.”

[munstarr]

The Guardian: part 2

Hello everyone! Welcome to part two in a sloow burn series I am working on! I am very excited to finally put this idea into words, this is so fun! I hope you like it, please don’t be shy with any feedback or criticism I would really appreciate it! please DM me anytime!! Also I have a wattpad its @ LilMunstarr ! Thanks for reading! 

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A few weeks had passed and after sending documents back and forth, prepping to move Azura was finally all packed. She officially accepted the position and later that week they sent helpers to aid her in packing. They were certain to let her know what was essential and what wasn’t. She hadn’t expected to be throwing most of her things away but was happy she was able to keep most of her decorative pieces so she could feel at home. She had quickly learned that some Nuks were very thorough.  She had been escorted to the nuks' earth base on many occasions to set up her identification cards for her new life on the planet; they had even picked up some of her things and taken them ahead of time. She had insisted she could do these errands herself but they would hear nothing of it, saying how pleased they were to help. Today was the day she was going to leave Earth behind, she had flown a good bit but this would be her first-time off-world. She had received a letter a few days ago letting her know a ship would receive her and take her to her new assignment. Standing in front of her large bathroom mirror she dressed in her small town home one last time. Carefully she unfolded her uniform, the pants seemed to be a strange black latex and leather mixed material, ‘’great how am I supposed to fit this over my damn thighs” she said to herself inspecting them. After wiggling around like a fish, she finally had gotten them to fit over her plump bottom. She was relieved to find the top seemed to be a cozy onyx crocheted sweater. Inspecting herself in the mirror she was very pleased, she looked very sexy and felt more comfortable then she had originally thought. She was starting to feel nervous, as she placed the intricate oxford colored crest on her chest she felt it was all happening so fast. She smiled to herself in the mirror and made a posh pose “why yes, it is I” she chuckled, fake it to you make it she chuckled to herself. She had decided to do her makeup full glam, with a sexy vampire red lip and a soft coral blush to match. She looked like a baddy straight from Star Wars, that thought made her snort. She was on her way to freaking live on an alien planet, this was the closest to Star Wars as she’d ever get!

A few hours later there was a sturdy knock on her door, her heart leapt. “Well let’s make it happen” she said to herself. She took a deep breath and smiled as she opened the door only to be greeted with a black fabric wall. ‘’Ahem, most apologize to you lady Emem” a huge Nuk said as it stepped back and bent down to greet her. “Oh, hello! I’m Azura!” she said sticking out her hand in surprise, The Nuk stared at it quizzically or so she thought. The Nuk’s didn’t seem to have any eyes or facial features recollected other than their mouth and leathery scaled looking bound skin, so she couldn’t be sure for certain.  Instantly retracting her hand she said “I’m so sorry, do you shake!? I didn’t mean to offend!” she said nervously. Suddenly forgetting everything she had read, she mentally smacked herself. The nuk standing before her had to be at least six and a half feet tall, his smooth leathery face only showed two rows of razor-sharp almost shark-like teeth. He was dressed similarly to her only his top was made of a knitted leather. Without any eyes she was unsure of how to read the situation. “Oh, my lady” he said with a dramatic bow and huge shark toothed smile,which gave her goosebumps. “Please do not waste any formalities on me, I am a Kilwhan the  transporter and I am here only to aid you on your journey. I will be personally delivering you to the guardian, it is an honor to be in your service” he said standing and picking up her carry on, he turned and headed towards the ship. Azura wasn’t sure what to do, shaking her head she followed behind him into the ship nervously. “Welcome aboard lady Emem, any inquiries before we take off?” he said in her direction as she buckled in. “Yes..um about before, please I insist on you calling me just by my name, it’s Azura. This is going to be my first time leaving my homeworld so I’d appreciate it if we kept it casual during the um.. ride?” she said quietly looking around the ship . Looking up she noticed him staring at her, or so it seemed “Just to ease my nerves, if that is okay with you that is.. I don’t want to get you into any sort of trouble or anything” she said with a slight nervous smile.  “As you wish...Azura'' he said with an enthusiastic wide-toothed grin and with that they blasted into the air. 

The trip would be several hours as Yanak was pretty far away, as they went into the air she struggled to keep her heart from falling out of her ass. She had always been scared of planes and this was way worse, after entering space though she relaxed. After seeing her awe and answering her questions, Kilwhan had slowed down to give her a mini tour of the galaxy. After hours of chatting Azura had learned a great deal about Yanak and told Kilwhan much about Earth. Turns out he did this for a living and was the one of the personal transporters for the guardians. She was very relieved to find out she would be seeing him often, she would have one friend at least. It had admittedly taken a bit to get him to relax and chat with her, apparently, his job was very formal and usually he rode in silence which he said he enjoyed actually . She was pleased to find he seemed to like chatting with her, this had been an amazing trip so far. “So..what is The Guardian Mirin like..?” she said curiously as she popped some snacks into her mouth. “The Guardian Mirin is someone  I don’t know personally too  much about,” he said surprisingly. “Didn’t you say you had been driving him around for a few years?” Azura said skeptically. “Yes well, he is very quiet and I wouldn't even know how to describe him” he said quietly. This puzzled Azura, surely you couldn’t work with someone for years without acknowledging them, how strange she thought. “Well that’s unfortunate, anytime I am around I would love to talk!” She said brightly. She had to admit she had always been a chatterbox, it was something that often got her in trouble during grade school. All the excitement of space had made her feel like her old self but suddenly she was a bundle of nerves again. She hoped she hadn’t signed up to secretly be a prisoner, she shook that thought off the alliance would never allow it!

After a few hours she had inevitably fallen asleep in the ship, She had awoken to Kalwhan poking her forehead. Azura sat up with a yawn, “I didn’t even realize I passed out” she said rubbing her eyes. “I am sorry to awaken you but we have arrived at your destination” he said stepping side showing her the view.  She was in awe, it looked like she was in a giant fucking tree! Her eyes nearly budged from her sockets. All around her she could see huge trees like plants holding all sorts of buildings, some circular and others long and tube-like, She couldn’t believe her eyes . The flowers swayed in the dark purple night sky, she looked up to see Kilwhan smile. “It sure is glorious,” he said picking up her bag and escorting her inside. She had seen some photos but there really weren’t many, the Nuks had been very private and didn’t share much about themselves online. They walked into a clear amethyst tube that guided them up to the beautiful circular building, this was quite the thing to wake up to. She had reapplied her makeup before leaving the ship and had her game face ready. She had butterflies but was relieved to know she would only be meeting the guardian and not jumping straight into work and meeting new coworkers. They had arrived around late after dinner time she had found out. 

They stepped out of the tube which she assumed was similar to an elevator, she turned around when she noticed Kalwhan had set her bag outside but had not come with her. “This is where we part Lady Azura, it was truly a pleasure to meet you” he said with a swift nod. “You aren't coming with me..?” she said in a hushed tone giving him a sad face. “I am not but you will just proceed to that door and scan your ID, the guardian should be with you shortly” he said, giving her a smile  and a swift “good luck” and with that he shot down the tube. “Great my only friend abandoned me, some support system” she snorted to herself. “WELP time to put on my big girl panties and make it happen” she thought. Picking up her small suitcase she took out her card and held it to the scanner. She was a bit shocked when the door slid open and the door sang in an angelic voice, “Welcome Guardian Keeper Azura”. That made her smile, at least she knew she belonged here. She slowly entered the room only to see it was very reminiscent of an earth style study room, a fancy one at that. The room was circular and had black wood throughout, there was an opulent emerald stone fireplace, the room was more than beautiful. There were built-in shelves of books and rolled documents lined the walls and stairs which seemed to lead to another floor of books. She passed the fireplace to look out the beautiful floor to ceiling window, this place was huge and the furniture was even bigger. She took this time to admire all the dwarfing buildings, she couldn't believe this was happening to her. Her heart soared thinking of what all the buildings could possibly be used for . As she drifted deeper into thought the door swooped open, “Welcome Divine Guardian Mirin” the door sang. Azura turned and that’s when she saw him. She had assumed everyone was the same height as Kilwhan, the helpers had been. Mirin had to be at least seven and a half feet tall, his black leathery face was all she saw, all wrapped up in a classic black earth suit. “Hello, I am mirin”  he said with a deep booming voice he gave a sharp nod extending his hand to her. “Oh why yes, h- hello!! I am Azura, she said, taking his hand”. She visibility gulped as his large scaled hand  engulfed her own.  She relaxed a bit to find it was covered in leathery black scales but it was surprisingly warm, with a gentle shake he gestured for her to sit in the chair across from his own. As if she was a child jumping onto a huge bed, she sat in the chair across  him. “I hope your trip went well, I know moving for humans can be quite a stress so I tried to design this unit to resemble a comfortable earth space” he said gesturing around with his clawed hand.  “Yes it is very beautiful, but you shouldn’t have gone through the trouble for me” she said looking around admiring the beautiful room. “You are so modest! But trust me, I have been waiting a long time for someone like you so really it was no trouble at all” he said plainly. This made her heart leap, what was so special about her she thought. She was flattered to say the least if not speechless, she fidgeted a bit in her massive cushioned wing chair, her feet didn't even touch the ground! “It seems I will have to make adjustments” he said with a sharp tooth smile “I forget how small some humans can be” he said with a deep chuckle that made her heat up inside. “ Well”, he said, standing up abruptly reaching out both of his hands to  her. “Are you ready to get to work?” he said with his booming voice to which Azure smiled and nodded proudly and took his hands standing up. She was beyond ready! She couldn’t wait to see this planet and prove to the Guardian that she was small but beyond capable! This would be an adventure she’d never forget.