#in the car on the way there I realized I was wearing g flip flops and didn’t bring anything else and I freaked out

[sunsoak]

Ah yes the classic recurring packing for a trip but I keep forgetting everything essential and I’m going to be late dream

[alondradina]

Domaystic day 16!

Prompt: Looking out the window

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solas/Ellana, Solas/Lavellan, Solavallen

Rating: G

Modern day AU, pre relationship

-

The view out the window wasn't… great. Ellana sighed and tapped her foot against the wall. It was still raining. The bus stop was three blocks away from the library. Not a bad distance normally, but she would be swimming by the time she got there today. She hadn't realized it was going to be this bad.

"Scattered showers, they said," she muttered, still tapping her foot, "sixty percent chance of scattered showers."

Ellana didn't have an umbrella, though that, she could admit, was her fault. She'd worn flip flops, shorts, and a Tshirt, and those were no match for the pouring rain and sudden temperature drop. Absentmindedly rubbing her bare arms, she swapped legs and started kicking the wall with her other foot.

"Excuse me, miss?"

She turned her head to see one of the librarians addressing her. Sera called him Egghead, and Izzy called him a spoilsport. He'd always been nice enough to her, though, and she smiled. "Yes?"

"Are you waiting for a ride?"

Ellana huffed and glared out the window. "No. I'm waiting for the effing rain to stop so I can make it to the bus without drowning."

"Ah."

"Yup." They stood in silence for a few minutes. She returned to tapping the wall, assuming that he was done with her, but then glanced back to see him still standing there. "Why? Do I need to go?"

"No, no," he quickly assured her, stepping forward in his earnestness, "you are welcome to stay here as long as the library is open and you aren't being disruptive."

"Thanks," she mumbled, knowing that normally she was counted as 'disruptive' just because of her friends. She couldn't help the small smirk, remembering how Isabela had gotten chased out last time.

He was still there, alternating between staring at her and looking at his feet. Ellana realized that he was wearing a coat and carrying an umbrella. His shift must be over.

"Can I help you?" She asked eventually. All she wanted was for the rain to stop so she could go home. Standing around with a stranger watching her was just not what she wanted to be doing on a Saturday afternoon.

"I was- I thought perhaps-" he sighed and looked up at the ceiling briefly before locking eyes with her. "I was wondering if you would like a ride home."

Ellana froze and looked him over while she thought. He was older than her, she didn't know by how much, but he wasn't creepy old. He'd always suffered through her and her friends' shenanigans with grace, and had been unfailingly polite through it all. Lately he'd been recommending her books and had also waived her most recent late fee.

A peal of thunder heralded another downburst, and she sighed and shrugged. "I mean, even just a ride to the bus stop would be great. You don't have to take me all the way home…"

"It is no trouble," he said, sounding strangely relieved, "My car is in the parking garage. We can go through the staff exit. It will be quicker."

She grinned at him. "That's not against the rules?"

"It is not as long as you are accompanied by a member of the staff," he admonished with a stern look. Shaking his head at her giggles, he gestured towards the back of the library.

They walked side by side through the bustling library. The rain meant that a lot of people who would normally be out and about were instead here. A couple kids ran straight at them, and, in her attempt to not get run over, Ellana tripped on the librarian's umbrella and fell into his side. He dropped the umbrella to grab her, and chastised the children with an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"My apologies," he said, releasing her with what might have been a blush. He'd turned his face away and started walking again too quickly for her to be sure, but she was almost positive he'd blushed.

Bemused, she caught up with him and tried to get a peek at his face. To her disappointment, if he had been blushing, he wasn't now. "It's no problem. Thanks for catching me."

He nodded and held the staff door open for her. Ushering her through the area fast enough that she just KNEW he wasn't actually supposed to bring her here, they made it to the exit. It was, of course, still pouring.

Ellana sighed as the librarian opened his umbrella and stepped out first. She followed, grateful that his umbrella was big enough to cover them both if they walked close enough. More than willing to walk close if it meant not getting rained on, she pressed herself up against his side. Her flip flops made obnoxiously loud slapping sounds as they hurried across the street, and she would have seriously considered just going barefoot if there wasn't so much trash and broken glass everywhere.

The inside of the parking garage was unpleasantly chilly and damp, but at least here they didn't need the umbrella. He dropped it to the side still open, letting it drip as they approached what she assumed was his car. Ellana didn't know much about cars, but this one seemed decent. Dark blue, four door, shiny with new tires. Way better than Izzy's car, for sure.

She was confused when he started walking to the passenger side of the car, but then realized he intended on opening the door for her. "Oh! You don't have to do that! I can open the door by myself."

He froze, in what she realized was mortification, before brusquely nodding and going to the driver's side. Ellana hated that it made her feel bad. No one really did that anymore, did they? She didn't know anyone who did.

Inside the car, she shivered as she sat on the leather seats and slid her flip flops off as soon as her seatbelt was buckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude-"

"You did nothing to offend," he cut in, flipping a switch and turning on the seat warmers.

She immediately flattened herself into the seat and sighed happily. "Seat warmers are the best."

He hummed acknowledgement and turned the air on to chase away the window fog. Once everything was on and settled, he turned his head to her. "Where am I taking you?"

"Oh! Downtown, please."

He paused, eyebrow raised, before asking, "Where downtown?"

It hit Ellana then, that this nice guy in his nice car would have to drive her to the dump she called home. She licked her lips and looked down at her lap. "Twenty-fourth street, by the hotels."

"Ah."

The next ten or so minutes were spent in silence. He didn't turn the radio on, and she didn't want to bother him by asking. Ellana had never been one to handle awkwardness quietly, so while they were waiting at another stoplight she decided to try talking. "So… I've obviously seen you around before, but I, uh, don't know your name."

He chuckled. "We have name tags."

"Yeah, well, that's not the sort of thing I normally look at."

"What do you normally look at?"

Ellana blushed. She looked at boys and stuff, of course. She'd checked him out a few times as well. The bald thing was kinda weird, but he had beautiful eyes, an arresting face, and very nice, broad shoulders. He was honestly better looking than a lot of the guys her age she saw around. There was no way she was telling him that, though. "I mean, I'm at the library. I look at books. You've recommended me books before!"

"I have, yes, and yet you didn't notice my name tag?"

She sighed. "Yeah, I know. I'm the worst. You gonna tell me your name or not?"

"Solas."

"Nice to officially meet you, Solas," she said, sticking out a hand, "My name is Ellana."

He glanced at the light, still red, before shaking her hand. "I knew your name."

"That's a creepy thing to say, sir-" The look of alarm on his face was absolutely hilarious, but also made her feel bad, so she quickly continued, "but I'm pretty sure all the librarians know my friends and I by name. So it's ok."

"I- yes."

"Anyway, it's nice to know yours now. Sorry I'm a jerk and didn't learn it earlier."

"You're not a jerk."

She laughed. "Get to know me better, you'll see."

The conversation stalled as he was finally able to make the turn, and had to concentrate on not running into other cars vying for every foot of free space and deal with jaywalking pedestrians. The traffic only got worse as they got closer to her apartment.

"You can pull off over here, if you want. This is close enough and the rain's not as bad."

"It's fine, Ellana, I can take you to the actual building."

"Alright."

Finally they were in the crowded parking lot, and she unbuckled her seat belt before turning to smile at Solas. "Thanks for the ride! I really appreciate it."

"It was no trouble."

She was reaching for the door when a hand brushed her elbow and he spoke.

"I apologize for my forwardness, but-"

She turned back around. "Yes?"

"I-" he sighed and shook his head. "Never mind. Have a pleasant evening."

"Hey, if you've got something to say, you can say it. Not gonna bother me."

He huffed a laugh and stared at her apartment building. Ellana was just about to prod him when he turned back and said, "I would like to. Get to know you better, I mean."

"Oh," was her eloquent answer. She swore she could see him deflate a little and immediately added, "I mean, that's cool. I'd like that, I think. Do you- Do you want to swap numbers?"

The look of shock on his face was replaced by a blush from one breath to the next, and he pulled his phone out rather than meet her eyes. Ellana was ok with that, though, since she was also feeling a little awkward.

By the time she'd gotten her contacts up and typed in his name, he was ready and holding his out to her. She put her number in, saved it, and then accepted her phone back. Sending him a text of a smiley face, she checked that everything was good to go. His phone buzzed and her name and emoji was displayed before he turned the screen off.

"Looks like we're good to go."

"Yes," Solas said faintly, still looking surprised. It made her want to give him a kiss on the cheek or something. See if his brain would be able to process that or not. But she decided to be a good girl and not tease him. For the moment, anyway.

"Any other requests, or are you ready to be rid of me now?"

His eyebrows furrowed and she could tell there was a lot of thinking going on. It only took him a moment before he gestured to the building. "Would you like to use my umbrella?"

"Solas," Ellana laughed, "it's like ten feet away. I can handle it. Keep your umbrella."

His answer was a shrug and an inscrutable look. The awkward was building, and she wasn't really sure what to do in situations like this, so she leaned forward, gave him a half hug, and got out of the car as quickly as possible. Jogging to the door, she turned back and waved at him. He waved back, and she went inside.

A couple hours later, Ellana lay sprawled out on her bed holding her phone. Her initial text was still marked unread, and she wasn't sure what to think. Was he shy? Was she too antsy? How did any of this work? She groaned and plugged it in before going to hassle her roommates. Izzy would know what to do.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38724966/chapters/97663341

[sisterspooky1013]

Tell Me When by SisterSpooky1013

For @inuendo-outuendo for the 2021 X Files Smut fanfic exchange

3982 words / Rated E / Read it here on AO3

“Scully?” he asks, and she realizes she didn’t hear the question.

“Hm?”

“Do you want the last slice of pizza?” he repeats, pointing to the nearly empty box of Canadian bacon and pineapple.

She shakes her head, taking a deep breath to ground herself in the moment. They sit on the bed in his motel room, reviewing case notes while a rerun of MASH plays on the small TV. He’s been going on about how often arson investigators are wrong about the origin of the fire, and how the way that they determine that an accelerant was used has been widely disputed. That they should not form their opinions on this case around the theory that the fire was set intentionally.

She’s been trying to listen, trying very hard, but he’s wearing that shirt. That Queen T-shirt with the hole in the armpit. It’s the one he was wearing when-

She closes her eyes tight against the memory.

“You okay?” he asks, and the genuine concern in his voice really isn’t helping.

“Yeah, I’m just tired, I think I’ll go to bed,” she replies, rising from her seat beside him.

She passes through the adjoining door between their rooms, pulling her side closed before she flops onto the bed with an exasperated exhale. It’s been over a month and she expected it to get better with time, but it’s only getting worse.

That night had been a mistake. A stupid, thoughtless mistake. She’d made the conscious decision to step close and press her fingertips into his hip bones, steadying herself against him as she pushed up on to her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. Everything after that had been choices her body made with no concern at all for what her mind might have to say in the matter. It was like an out of body experience, her consciousness hovering above them and watching helplessly as she sated every desire she’d been suppressing for seven years and some months.

The phrase “it all happened so fast” had always struck her as cliche. And yet one second they were kissing, and the next his fingers were deep inside her, stroking her g-spot as she struggled to pull in a full breath. She blinked and his tongue was between her thighs, lapping at her as though her pussy alone could sustain his life, like he needed her more than air. She pushed gently at his head, making excuses, telling him he didn’t have to. When he pinned her hands to the bed and doubled his efforts, she came hard against his tongue, so hard she saw stars. She blinked again and now it was his cock that was inside her, slipping in and out fast and hard, knocking her rhythmically against his headboard until he wrapped his hand around her skull protectively. Blink again and she was in her car on the way home, chewing nervously on her lip as her consciousness settled back into her body. As it asked her what she had done. She might have tried to convince herself she’d imagined it, if not for the slick of his cum in her panties and the tenderness between her legs when she washed herself in the shower the next morning.

Regret. Shame. Embarrassment. Facing him again was the hardest thing she’s ever done, and she’s done some hard things. She’d knocked on his apartment door, unable to meet his eye when he answered. Unable to look at his face as she told him that it was a mistake, and how sorry she was for initiating it. He didn’t speak as she stared at his long bare toes against the hardwood, begging that they pretend it never happened. When she was finished, she forced a glance at him and his expression was neutral, open, accepting.

“Okay,” he’d said, and she left. They haven’t spoken of it since.

Peeling herself from her motel bed, she flips on the shower. Scrubbing the memory from her skin, she attempts to wash it down the drain along with the slickness that had gathered between her legs while thinking about it. She knows it was a mistake, and she knows that it can’t happen again. She knows this, and yet her body betrays her. The smell of his deodorant alone is enough to send her into a tailspin, drawing her to him like a heat seeking missile. There’s a certain way he groans when he’s frustrated that is remarkably similar to the sound he made while his lips were wrapped around her clit. She’s found herself trying to frustrate him just to hear it. She wants him again, so badly. But she can’t. She won’t.

Fully cleansed, she pulls on a T-shirt and cotton shorts. The shower did very little to quench her thirst and so she decides to try working as a distraction. She left Mulder’s room before she had a chance to review the most recent autopsy report, and she was in such a hurry to get out of there that she hadn’t even grabbed it. Moving to the adjoining door, she opens her side to see that his is slightly ajar, their standard signal that company is welcome. Pushing it open slowly, she opens her mouth to speak but stops short when she sees him.

He’s standing at the foot of the bed, facing her. A towel covers his head and he’s rubbing it roughly over his hair, drying off after a shower. He is fully nude, droplets of water trailing down his belly and beading in his dark thatch of pubic hair. He’s flaccid, but still impressive, the plump mushroom tip of him resting invitingly against his scrotum. Her heart starts thrumming in her chest like a jackhammer and she slides her tongue along her lower lip, breath coming out in pants like a dog in heat. She practically salivates at the sight of him, new wetness pooling where she had just washed it away.

When she forces her eyes higher, over the ripples of his taut abdomen and the smooth plain of his chest, she finds that the towel is now draped around his neck, and he’s looking at her curiously.

Her eyes widen in surprise and shock, her mouth rooting for words. Any words. Say. Words. Dana. A tiny smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, Mulder. Um, your door was open,” she finally stammers, averting her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, pulling the towel down and wrapping it around his hips. “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?”

She can feel her cheeks redden even further, if that’s possible.

“I just...I came to get the autopsy report,” she says, hand still on the doorknob, gaze on the floor.

He walks over to the small desk and picks up a folder before bringing it to her. He’s so close, and so fresh and smooth, and so...Mulder. He holds the folder out to her and she can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. She takes it, dropping her arm to her side, and then just stands there. It’s like he has a magnetic pull on her that she can’t break away from. Compelled by a force more powerful than her self control, she stays right where she is.

“Something else I can do for you, Scully?” he asks in a syrupy voice, and she lifts her eyes to look at his face. His irises are wide and dark, his lips slightly parted. He’s aroused.

“Mulder…” she says, but can’t quite finish the thought. She doesn’t quite need to.

He steps a little closer, invading her space, inviting her into his. He’s still holding eye contact.

“Mulder, we shouldn’t. We can’t.” She scolds her own voice for coming out so weak, so unconvincing.

“Why?” he asks in a tender whisper that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“We agreed, Mulder. We agreed that it should never have happened. That it can’t happen again.”

He sighs. “I didn’t agree to anything, Scully. You said you wanted to forget it ever happened and I respected your wishes. That doesn’t mean I feel the same way.”

She drops her gaze to somewhere around his shoulder. “We work together, Mulder. It’s unprofessional, and inappropriate, and….we can’t.”

“Okay. Like I said, if that’s what you want then I’ll respect it. Sorry for being captain obvious here, Scully, but you’re the one who’s still standing in my room,” he says before adding in a low tone, “I can’t help but wonder if you’re trying to convince me or yourself.”

She drops her eyes even lower, frustrated with herself because he’s right, and her eye catches the tent at the front of his towel. He’s hard. She swallows. She looks up at his face again and she can see his jaw working with restraint, his breaths controlled and shallow. She’s told him no and he will never, ever violate that boundary; he respects her too much. Which is a real shame because right now she wishes that he would ignore everything she’s saying and throw her onto his bed.

No such luck. She has to make a conscious choice.

Her fingers trembling, she reaches out and tentatively touches the edge of the towel at his hips. His eyes widen almost imperceptibly, a stream of air rushing out of his nose. Letting the file drop to the floor, she brings her other hand to lie on his chest, feeling the quickened pace of his heartbeat under her palm and the smooth, shower-fresh warmth of his skin. His eyes are on her mouth and she opens it reflexively, inviting him inside. He’s stock still, unmoving. Wordless invitations are not sufficient. She’s verbally told him no, and now she must verbally tell him yes.

“Kiss me,” she says in a near-whisper, in someone else’s voice, with someone else’s intentions.

A tiny little groan echoes in the depths of his throat.

“I’d like to, Scully, but you just told me you didn’t want to do that. I’m not sure I can live through another morning-after regret conversation,” he says in reply, and there’s pain in his voice.

Her heart aches, knowing that she’d hurt him with her own self-judgment. She’d rejected him without meaning to.

“I’m sorry, Mulder,” she says softly, searching his face with her eyes. “It’s not about you, it’s me. I just...it’s not that I don’t want you. I do. But I’m afraid.”

His mouth puckers a little with emotion, maybe relief, knowing that it was never him she was running from. Knowing that she wants him.

He takes her hand from his chest, bringing it to his lips and kissing each finger tip one at a time as she watches, mesmerized. When he’s done, he places it back on his pectoral and covers it with both of his own.

“I would never hurt you, Scully,” he says with so much tenderness that tears prick at her eyes.

She nods softly. “I know,” she finally says, barely audibly.

He bends down then and kisses her, fully but sweetly. It’s a promise and an agreement, one they both commit to this time. As in all things, not knowing what the future holds but knowing that whatever it is they will get through it together.

She slips her index finger under the edge of the towel and tugs. It drops to the floor with a soft whoosh, draping around his feet. The kiss deepens, tongues gently exploring surfaces hard and soft, wet and hot. She wraps her arms around his waist, touching the skin of his bare back. Slipping her hands lower to cup his ass, she pulls him closer and they both groan when his growing erection pushes into her belly.

This isn’t happening so fast, she thinks. She is present, and consciously choosing this again and again. Choosing Mulder, choosing pleasure, choosing to let go for once.

He stoops down and slips his hands under her backside, lifting her up as her legs wrap around his hips. He takes two steps forward and her back is against the wall next to the open door between their rooms, his cock pushing against the juncture of her leg and crotch.

They kiss languidly as he thrusts gently against her, his hands snaking under her T-shirt to knead her breasts, pinching her nipples as she moans into his mouth. He’s so hard and so close, and she’s not wearing panties. The thought sends a throb to her clit. She shifts her hips around, dropping inches lower until he’s right there, the smooth head of him prodding against her opening, slipping right past the thin cotton of her shorts.

“Oh fuck,” he rumbles. “Is this okay?” he asks, needing to be sure before he goes any further.

“Yes,” she replies breathlessly, “please.”

He moans long and low, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck as he pushes and shifts, finding just the right angle until he slips inside, filling her.

Her head drops back against the wall, mouth falling open in ecstasy and relief, a single piercing cry echoing in the quiet hotel room.

He stays still for a moment, kissing her neck as his breath heaves in anticipation. When she tilts her head back down, taking his face between her palms and kissing him, he begins to slowly pump in and out. Long, deep, slow strokes. So different than before, so much less frenzied. The first time had felt like they were trying to finish before they got caught, or came to their own senses, or changed their minds. Now they take their time, kissing and stroking, touching and exploring, enjoying each sensation. The only sounds are the soft smacks of their lips, the occasional moans escaping their throats, and the wet slide of his length as he moves within her.

He pushes her shirt up to expose her breasts, dipping his head to take a peaked nipple between his lips and suckling gently as she scrapes her fingernails over his scalp in encouragement. Her back is starting to hurt from being crammed against the wall but she can’t bring herself to stop what they’re doing. Mulder must have been thinking something similar because he suddenly clutches her to him and walks them over to the bed, staying inside her all the way.

He lays her down on the edge of the bed, him standing before her, and pushes her shirt up and off, tossing it aside. Next he withdraws from her and tugs her shorts down and off her hips, his glistening hard-on bobbing in the space between them expectantly. She’s expecting him to slide back in and resume what they were doing, but instead he kneels on the floor between her legs. She looks down at him, preparing to speak. Preparing to object.

“If you don’t like this,” he interjects, “I won’t do it. But if you’re about to tell me not to bother because you think I’m just doing you a favor, you should know that this,” he pauses and drags his tongue in one long, hard stroke over her dripping sex, “is all I’ve thought about every day for the past month.”

Her eyes roll back in her head and she drops against the bed as he begins his assault, licking and lapping at her with all the devotion and enthusiasm she’s been conjuring in her own fantasies since that first night. His tongue is soft while his fingers are firm, spreading her open and dipping inside, flicking and grazing and pressing, skirting gently down over her asshole to gage her response, learning her. Two lessons in and he’s ready to graduate as an orgasm begins to tingle in her toes, building and building.

“Tell me,” he lifts his lips from her briefly to speak. “Tell me when you’re coming.”

She shudders, brought further just by the sound of his voice. She’s almost there. She feels the telltale clench that will bring her over the edge and he groans, feeling the same thing around his fingers, or his tongue. She doesn’t know what part of him is inside her but she doesn’t care. Her breath is hitching, her moans continuous, drying out her open mouth until she swallows hard, trying to gather enough saliva to effectively speak.

Swell, rising, peaking, up to the point she can go no higher, she can’t turn back, not that she wants to. It’s inevitable now.

“Oh, I’m coming,” she pants, and he growls as she falls apart, throbbing against his mouth as he continues to stroke her with his tongue. His fingers are deep inside pushing against her pulsing g-spot, making it longer, harder, better than it has ever been. After the initial explosion he continues to tease smaller waves of pleasure from her and she doesn’t think she’s ever continued to orgasm for this long. She hears a fricative sound and sees his arm pumping vigorously. He’s touching himself.

“Oh my god,” she croons, overwhelmed by sensation, by pleasure, by release.

It becomes too much and she touches the top of his head, signals him to stop, then pushes herself away from the edge of the bed and lays on the pillows at the head. He climbs up beside her, nestling into her side and kissing her face tenderly while his hardness prods her thigh.

She kisses his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue, and reaches down to stroke him firmly. He groans and bucks into her hand, and she lets her leg fall to the side, tugging on his arm until he rolls on top of her. He slips back in easily, she is so wet and ready, and they quickly resume the pace they’d enjoyed against the wall. Long, firm strokes accompanied by deep kisses and hands exploring. He lifts her leg and rests it on his shoulder, deepening his angle, and while she knows she can’t come again this soon it still feels so damn good. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are closed, his mouth falling open and his eyebrows lifting impossibly higher as he approaches his own release.

“Tell me,” she says, panting. “Tell me when you’re coming.”

His eyes shoot open and he looks at her with a ravenous expression, intense and frantic as he quickens his pace. The rhythmic slapping of their bodies as they meet is deafening, the soft nudge of his balls against her ass on each upstroke a sensation she will recall later and blush. His face crumples, the sweet agony of orgasm distorting his features into something beautiful and vulnerable.

“I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming,” he bellows, and she feels the hot spurt of him against her cervix, the throb of him against her still-sensitive walls.

She watches him raptly, mesmerized by this face that is new to her and so deeply intimate. Just when she thought she knew every expression that could inhabit his face, here is another one. Perhaps her new favorite.

He collapses, half his weight draped over her and half on the bed, and they lie there for minutes, catching their breath. Finally he stands and goes into the bathroom. She hears the tap running and he comes back with a dampened washcloth, dragging it gently between her legs. The gesture is so tender and sweet, it makes her chest ache.

He returns, turning off the light and slipping under the sheets to lie beside her, curling his lanky frame around her petite one.

“Stay,” he says in a pleading tone. He’s expecting her to say no.

“Okay,” she replies.

They fall asleep in each other’s arms.

&&

He wakes to the unfamiliar sensation of a naked backside tucked firmly against his groin. Blinking in the darkened room, he remembers and smiles against her hair, pulling in a deep breath full of her shampoo and the smell of their sex. His arm is draped over her waist, one hand cupping a warm breast, and he can feel himself growing hard against her. His initial reaction is to be embarrassed and try to conceal it, but then he has the thought that maybe he doesn’t have to anymore. As his cock stiffens, it finds itself wedged between his leg and the bottom of her ass cheek and he instinctively thrusts his hips a little, seeking friction. She stirs and he freezes, feigning sleep. Her breathing tells him that she’s awake, maybe having the same moment of realization he did. When she wiggles her backside against him a little, he’s sure. He groans and she does it again, more firmly this time. He allows his hand to squeeze gently at the breast currently in its possession and it’s her turn to moan. He’s thrusting against her in earnest now, his length threading between her ass cheeks until he feels her hand touch the head, pressing it against her opening until he routes inside.

Hot, wet, and tight. So unbelievably tight. He pushes his face into the crook of her neck and kisses the skin there frantically, pumping at a pace he won’t be able to keep up for long. Reaching down, he grasps her knee and pulls her leg up to hitch the ankle behind his thigh, then slips his hand down to touch the place where their bodies meet. His fingers slide along the length of his own cock as it pistons in and out of her, gathering moisture, before he circles her clit with his middle finger. He experiments with different levels of pressure and patterns of movement until he finds the one that makes her clench around him as her breath hitches in her throat. They haven’t said a word, but she is pulsing and whimpering and he’s close, so close that he hopes she gets there soon or he might leave without her. Suddenly, she hisses out “oh god, oh yes, oh god,” and then he feels her grip him like a vice. The feeling of her coming around him is overwhelming and he follows her over the edge, muttering obscenities into her ear as he pours himself into her.

This time there is no towel. He falls back asleep before he’s even fully retreated from her, clutching her to him like the prize that she is. Mine, mine, mine, he wants to tell her, but he doesn’t.

It’s 6 am when he hears the beeping of her alarm through the wall, and she’s untangling herself from his arms, sticky and sweat-damp. He’s so afraid that he’ll have to see the shame in her eyes as she tells him again that he was a mistake, so he pretends to be asleep. Before she crosses the boundary back into her own space, she leans over him and kisses his sleep-still lips, lingering for a beat. He’s too cautious to let himself think that’s a good sign; once bitten twice shy and all.

Ninety minutes later she joins him in the rental car, showered and pressed and erased of any sign of their entanglement. He watches her for indications that she’s upset; avoiding eye contact, stiff posture, set jaw. He sees none of that, just regular old Scully, carefully cradling her styrofoam cup of shitty motel coffee as she settles into the passenger seat. She glances at him and worry clouds her face as she catches his pensive expression.

“You okay, Mulder?” she asks, eyebrows furrowed in that way he finds adorable.

He nods reassuringly, a small smile on his lips. “Just tired, didn’t get enough sleep,” he offers, not thinking through the implication.

“Sorry about that,” she says softly before taking a sip of her coffee, and he can see the smile she’s trying to hide behind the cup.

“Don’t be,” he returns, starting the engine as a feeling of relief and contentment washes over him. “More than worth it.”

Tagging @today-in-fic

[sleeperswakewriting]

fire alarm

Thank you to @nicolanoodles for the prompt: “the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear AU”

AO3

Rating: G

Pairing: Levi x Petra

Petra groaned and rubbed her eyes as she slid into her slippers. Not again…She thought, throwing on her robe and grabbing her phone. She padded to her front door with not nearly as much haste as she probably should have, but she was tired. For the third time this week, her building’s fire alarm had gone off, and each time had been a false alarm. Something related to a new system, is what management told everyone, but it still didn’t make up for the fact that this was now the third night this week that she had woken up at 3 AM. By the time the firetrucks were called and the all clear was given, she barely fell back asleep before waking up at a prompt 5:30 AM to get ready for work. 

Her coworkers and students commented on her ragged appearance, which made her all the more frustrated since she was usually known for her sunny disposition, but even she had her limits, and she was someone who valued her sleep. It didn’t help that she recently moved into the building so she had nearly another year before her lease was up, and she was so sure that this apartment would be the perfect fit for her modest salary and being a single woman. 

Skirting down the stairs, Petra noticed her neighbors also lazily making their way back down, each of them with the same annoyed and dazed look. Petra knew most of the people on her floor, an elderly couple three doors down, a single mom and son across from her, and a young couple with an adorable Pomeranian that she often saw in the afternoons when she returned from work. There were a couple neighbors unaccounted for, and Petra assumed that their schedules never aligned, but she never had any noise complaints, which was the plus side to her floor. 

The summer breeze hit her as she made her way onto the grass, the moistness catching her fluffy slippers and she grumbled, wondering if the apartment complex would reimburse her for physical and emotional damage. If anything, her students will be suffering tomorrow since Ms. Ral had been at the end of her rope all week, and one more student on the red zone would take away Friday’s movie afternoon. Clearly, lack of sleep made her heartless, but at this point she didn’t care, she wanted to get back into her bed. 

Petra pulled up her Snapchat to show her friends that yet again, she would be in a bad mood all day. As she raised her phone to the apartment complex to snap a picture of the screeching disaster, she immediately noticed a man standing a few feet in front of her in his underwear. Well, his black boxer’s to be exact. He had flip flops on, and he wore a scowl equal to the people around him. His eyes focused in on her, and his grimace darkened. 

They made eye contact and Petra yelped, immediately turning around and slapping her phone to the side of her leg and out of sight. Oh my god, he must think I’m such a perv. Don’t turn around, Petra. Even if he is hot and has a six pack, you were not taking a picture of him in his underwear!

“Oi,” a man said, tapping her shoulder, and she went hot. 

Slowly turning around to meet her judgement, Petra went crimson as the man in the boxers stood in front of her. He was glaring (as he should, Petra thought) and pointed to her phone in her hand. He was only a few inches taller than her, maybe a just bit older too, with grey eyes and an undercut.  

“What the hell?” He asked, and Petra found it very hard to breathe. The last time she was this close to a near naked man was her ex-boyfriend, and that was someone she knew very well. This was a stranger! A very sexy, are-his-muscles-photoshopped stranger. 

Petra took a step back, squishing further into wet grass and she stuttered, “I-I wasn’t taking a picture of you. I was just taking a Snapchat to show my friends to complain. I would show you, but you know, Snapchat.” 

The main raised an eyebrow, not buying her story, and she groaned. “I promise I’m not a pervert. You’re really attractive, but I’m not the type to snap pictures of random guys.”

He raised his eyebrows even further, the annoyance disappearing and his expression softened to something closer to amusement. 

Realizing what she just said, hung over from lack of sleep, Petra clamped her mouth shut and took a deep sigh. 

“Let me start over. Hi, my name is Petra. I live in 34C.” She extended her hand, hoping to get into the stranger’s good graces before he reported her for harassment. 

The man shook her hand. “Levi. 34B.” 

God, could this day get any worse? He was her freaking neighbor too?! One of the nameless ones that apparently worked opposite hours. Feeling lightheaded, Petra released his hand and stared at the ground in embarrassment.

Seemingly uncomfortable with their silence, Levi coughed. “This shit sucks,” he said, pointing his thumb at the firetrucks that started to pour in. They were a good 100 feet away from the building, but the noise was enough to give her a headache. 

“Yeah,” Petra agreed lamely, her silk robe suddenly feeling too tight. 

“How long have you been living here?” He asked. 

“Just two months, I got a job in the area over the summer. You?”

“A year.”

“Oh, so are these things common? I’ve been meaning to ask around but I’m always so tired when they go off, but I’m not sure how much longer I can take it.” 

“Not really, but it’s still fucking annoying. Not like we have work or anything,” he mumbled sarcastically, running his fingers through his hair. 

Since the conversation had mellowed out and he didn’t seem as agitated at her, she allowed herself to peek at him, admiring his muscular features. Maybe he was a personal trainer? Or in the military? 

“I know, right? I have to deal with so many brats in the morning, this week has been killing me,” she commiserated. 

Levi seemed to smirk as she spoke, and she amended, “Not that I don’t like my students or anything! They can be a handful, but I usually really do like them when I’m not sleep deprived.” 

“You’re a teacher?” 

She nodded enthusiastically, “Third grade.”

“Wow,” he replied sincerely. “I couldn’t do that, too much noise.” 

“What do you do?” She asked, feeling braver. 

He crossed his arms, and Petra swallowed as the action highlighted his chest and biceps. “I’m a lawyer.” 

“Oh! Like defense attorney stuff?”

“Child welfare,” he replied, looking to the side, and Petra’s heart melted. Hot and chivalrous? She had to tell Nanaba about him later. 

“That’s amazing!” She said enthusiastically, nearly forgetting about his unclothed state, and she stepped closer to him. His eyes widened as the side of her robe brushed against his stomach, and she caught herself, giggling. 

“Aha, sorry!” She pulled the straps tighter against her. “Can I ask why you’re in your underwear?” Don’t look near his groin, Petra. Don’t try to guess how big—

“I was asleep,” Levi deadpanned, as if it were obvious. Petra looked around them, wondering if anyone else was in a similar state of disarray, but most people were in their robes or threw on a jacket to cover themselves up. Seemingly, as if Levi could read her mind, “I never know if one of these things are real or not, so I just gun for it. I guess I should know by now, but it’s a pretty knee jerk reaction.” 

“Do you want my robe?” She asked suddenly, feeling bad for him and maybe he was feeling self-conscious. 

“Hell no. I’d rather be like this than be caught dead in your pink lingerie.” 

Petra blushed furiously. “It is not lingerie! It’s a robe!” 

He nodded, and with a teasing lilt to his tone, “Sure. With a v-neck cut out to show off your cleavage. Just a robe.”

She looked down at herself for the first time since putting on the ensemble, and she grew hotter noticing the lacy and thin tank top she was wearing. It was obvious to anyone looking at her up close that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and her sleep shorts cut off before her robe, making her look pants-less. 

“Do you want to sit in my car and make out until the trucks leave?” 

“W-What?!” Petra gaped, and she looked up to see Levi’s face lined in amusement, holding up his car keys. 

“I’m kidding. I was actually going to sit in there before I saw you taking a picture of me. We’ve already seen each other half naked, so it isn’t too weird to sit in a car together.” 

Not seeing how her night could get any more embarrassing, Petra nodded and found herself following Levi to his car in the adjacent lot. Maybe I should call out of work tomorrow…

“For the record, I definitely was not taking a photo of you.” 

“I wouldn’t mind if you did, though.” He said, opening the door to his black sports car, and Petra’s heart thrummed in her chest, inhaling the leather. 

Maybe the fire alarm going off wasn’t so bad. 

[1zashreena1]

The Homicide is Hot -12

18+, m/f/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess struggles with her own morality. But all cats are gray in the dark, right? Oh, and Diego has an epiphany.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Literal murder guys, seriously*** Protective Diego, feels, a blow job, plus size woman+fit man, insightful and helpful Julio, f o r e s h a d o w i n g

A/N:  Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​ @symbiont13​ @nicke0115​​ @bunnykjm​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @girlpornparadise​ @mandoplease​ @heresathreebee​ @xxsteph-enrixx​ @jetiikad​ @joalsglasses​ @mutantcookiesecrets​ @demoncatstone​ @squidlywiddly87​ @lockedoutofmyotherblog​ @poeedamerons​

gif by @el-cheung​

"Its hot when he's homicidal." There. You said it.

Okay but remember that time when he stabbed two dudes and carved an ear off of a third? And you were gonna like, die if you didn't blow him IMMEDIATELY??? 

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME.

Wait, wait. Maybe this is … good? That is not the correct word but you know what I mean. If I'm going to be with someone in his position then I need to be able to handle everything that entails, right? 

You glance over at TMP, the small stuffed panther is facing you on the breakfast bar. You know its ridiculous, but you feel like he's watching you. It only takes half a second, but you flip the stuffie around so he can't be a voyeur just like his namesake.

The small dry erase board in your lap reflects sunlight back up into your face. Its covered in anxious scribbles regarding last weekend, you're desperately trying to sort them into some semblance of helpfulness. It isn't going well.

I already know he is in love with me, straight out of the horse's mouth. Lol 'horse'.

Seriously. You cannot go one day without a dick joke. 

I love him. I mean, how can I claim to love someone if I don't accept all of them? He doesn't maim indiscriminately, it has a point. Is it justified? I don't know. Do I trust his judgment on it being justified? I think I do. I guess the better question is: Do I care? 

I'm already in it. He's paying half my bills, he already paid off all my debt. I've accepted so many gifts with the knowledge that they were bought with laundered drug money. Hell, every article of clothing I'm wearing right fucking now was purchased by Diego. Also, he said that those guys lost a shipment to the tune of EIGHTY THOUSAND DOLLARS, so you know, that's an accessory charge. At this point, even if I decide I have some arbitrary moral high ground, I'm definitely rolling around in a ditch, legally speaking.

You've always known that your morality was a bit off center than most people's, but being with Diego has put it into sharp relief. There are so many things that are illegal that you just don't care about. And your very visceral reaction that night was irrefutable proof.

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

Last weekend

Diego does not like the cold. The heat in the SUV is turned way up, you already closed the vents on your side of the backseat. You're on your phone, pretending to ignore the massive hand sneaking under the hem of your dress while your legs are flopped over his lap.

Diego rumbles at you, the phone comes down just enough for you to peek over the top at him.

"Yes? Is there something you would like, my Murder Panther?" Your smirk is damn near audible as you question him. 

His eyes trail down to your lap then back up before he answers in a growl, "There is something I would love." The rockiness of his voice never fails to make you quiver just a tiny bit.

Just as those long fingers brush your thong his phone chirps. Repeatedly. And then starts ringing.

Diego snatches the cell out of his jacket pocket and hisses at the screen. Not good, you think. He answers it with a tirade of Spanish, shoots you an incomprehensible look, then retreats from you. Nooooo.

Being the only one in the car who doesn't speak Spanish is its own variety of delightful hell. Bastian and Julio are exchanging meaningful looks in the front while you just have to wait. Diego has gone quiet, which is utterly terrifying.

He disconnects the call, then passes the phone to Julio, who shows it to Bastian, who then changes course.

Diego reluctantly pulls your dress back down as you drop your feet to the floor. He raises a thick arm and tucks you into his side underneath it before kissing the top of your head apologetically.

"We have to run an errand."

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

The warehouse looks like it came straight out of a Law and Order episode. Its abandoned yet eerily lit from the inside, there is a suspicious assortment of motley vehicles parked outside, and two tattoo covered dudes toting semiautomatics appear as you pull up. 

"Please tell me those belong to you." You mutter quietly. Your immediate concern is Diego's safety.

Diego gives you the shark smile. "The men or the guns, Princess?" 

In the dark, at this incredibly sketchy location, and with the threat of violence thick in the air, he is actually a little bit scary.

You swallow the apprehension and glare at him with a raised chin. "Yes." You snap, crossing your arms in a stubborn huff. Holding his gaze right now is kind of intimidating but you manage it.

"Si, everything here is mine." His voice is hard as steel but the hand that comes up to grip your chin is gentle. It takes a second for you to realize that he is including you in that group. And that you like it.

You take in his features, those eyes are black in the darkness, but the silver in his beard glints in the partial moonlight. The defined jawline, his long straight nose, those perfectly framed velvet lips, thick brows and even thicker hair. So fucking gorgeous. Cupping his bristly cheeks, you whisper one requirement, "Just make sure to come back to me, baby."

Diego leans his forehead down on yours briefly, then kisses your nose. "Wait here for Diego, my Princess." His voice is dark and dripping with emotion. Julio opens the car door from outside and Diego steps out, adjusting his jacket and tucking the abalone-inlaid gun into his pants. He doesn't look back as they walk away.

Bastian steps out and closes the driver's door to smoke. The only door left open is the rear passenger next to where you sit. You're too preoccupied to stay focused on your cell. You look up to see that Bastian is on his phone, Probably his boyfriend checking on him. You can certainly understand that.

Faint voices float out of the open warehouse garage door, but everything is in Spanish. You slide down to the pavement and pace slowly. Its been almost twenty minutes, should you try to check on him? Each lap of pacing takes you ever closer to the empty doorway, purely by happenstance of course, until finally, finally, you can see people inside. 

There are three men kneeling on the floor, surrounded by at least two dozen others armed to the teeth. There are more guns than you have ever seen in your life, all being handled casually. Diego paces slowly in front of them, rattling off some rambling array of options, judging from his tone. Whatever he just said must have been unfavorable because two of the kneeling men start crying and begging. I should not be here.

Diego digs both hands deep into his pants pockets, as though searching for a lost item, only to pull out the larger of the switchblades that you know he always carries. Ambling forward, he snatches the man furthest from you by the hair and yanks his head back. The angle looks excruciating, but what happens next is infinitely worse. The blade glints under the overhead lighting as Diego slides it smoothly across the man's throat, triggering a cascade of red.

Diego just slit his throat.

Diego just killed that man.

Diego just committed murder.

You're frozen. Think. Think. If you move now someone will hear your shoes, you stuff a hand into your mouth just in case you make any noise. Your plum dress and black booties should blend into the night, thank fuck the dress is longer so there's less gleaming pale leg to reflect the moonlight.

I should go I should go back to the car I should go home. Your thoughts are racing but you can't look away as Diego skirts the rapidly expanding pool of blood and approaches the next man. He leans down to listen to the doomed man's pleas, one huge hand on his shoulder in mock comfort. Almost faster than your eyes can follow, Diego stabs him three times in the chest. The man coughs, then chokes on blood. Diego nudges him backwards to the floor with an expression of mild disgust before he can cough blood onto those exceedingly expensive shoes. The noise of his death is a quiet gurgle.

You can't feel your legs. Your stomach plummets and your heart rate leaps. This is Diego. This is my man. This is who he is and what he does. And this is what happens if you wrong him.

Just like I'm doing right now?

Sudden understanding makes your palms sweat and your jaw shake. Breathe. I trust him. You know, all the way down to the bottom of your soul, that he would never do anything like this to you. 

I'm different.

I'm special. 

I'm important. 

I have power.

The thrill of getting away with something courses up your spine. 

All of these men are his to command, available at his beck and call, and his to dispatch as he sees fit.

And you? Diego belongs to you. This powerful man chooses to kneel at your feet and pleasure you with his mouth, he dotes on you with gifts and gourmet dining, he waits for your text responses with baited breath. You want nothing more than to belong to him.

Movement snaps you out of your own head; Diego is approaching the last man, all confident stalk and predatory grin. A different feeling settles low and deep in your abdomen. Murder Panther. MY Murder Panther. 

Diego strokes over the man, no, this one is younger, the young man's hair. He is definitely an adult, but hasn't been for very long. Diego is whispering in his ear, the guy nods frantically and tilts his head toward you. You watch in morbid fascination as Diego carves off his ear. 

Diego wipes the blade off on the man's shirt, then pats him on the head as he walks off casually. He gestures to the group as he puts the knife away and they close ranks to help the lone surviving man to his feet and carry him off. 

Before you can jolt your body into retreating Diego turns to head your way. He glances up… and sees you.

His face, Oh no. Shock, horror, dismay, annoyance, and finally, determined resolution all cross his features in under three seconds. He uses his broad body to block you from his men's view and marches you back to the SUV. "Get in." He snarls, but he doesn't push you.

You slide all the way across the backseat to crash against the opposite side and Diego follows, slamming the door behind him and locking it. He scrubs a hand down his face and turns to you, expression grim.

You can't imagine what you look like, Probably a scared little bunny. But what you feel like? Oh, that is a different story. Damn near everything about what you just witnessed was so fucking hot. The actual homicides were kind of 'meh' (What is wrong with me???), but his power and ability and danger? Those you are definitely into.

He looks simultaneously defeated and defiant. "Well?" He barks with an expectant gesture. "This is me. This is what I do. You call me Murder Panther, but its different to see, isn't it, Princess?" The way he spits out his pet name for you hurts. He's lashing out in fear. He thinks I'm gonna run.

You keep your eyes locked with his as you reach out to his leg. He flinches at the contact but stays stiff. Your voice is smoky and dark, "I need you. Right fucking now. Give me your dick."

For the first time since you've met, Diego is speechless. His jaw hangs open while he watches you sink to your knees in front of him. Seemingly paralyzed, he just blinks as you rip his pants open and yank the material down over his hips. The instant you achieve clearance for his cock your mouth is on him. Your moan must vibrate the entire vehicle its so loud.

"Princess!" He finally gasps. "You. What. Fuuuck, what is. Oh, hell yes." His hips jerk and you dig your nails into his lower abdomen. He is fully erect in seconds, a little confusion isn't enough to cockblock Diego. Big hands flit through your peripheral vision erratically before settling on your head. The angle is finally correct and you slide him all the way down your throat, he practically howls with it. "Ahh, h-haaa. Jesus fuck, that feels so good. Shit, shit. Princesss." 

The way he calls for you, writhing with it, is almost too much. You moan back but don't stop bobbing your head on his length. Firm suction intermixed with sporadic long licks of your broad tongue have him leaking steadily in no time. Your left hand cups his balls, squeezing gently just to feel him tense up. He's salty, but not bitter. You want it. You need him.

Your right hand snakes down to hike up the dress. Once it’s over your wide hips you spread your knees so you can sink down onto his shoe. He doesn't notice at first, not until your hips start rocking in time with your suction. 

He grabs a fistful of hair to get your attention. "Are. Fucking christ woman, are you riding my foot?!" His eyes are huge, mouth open to pant.

You nod tightly, "Mm hmm." The moan vibrates all along his cock, causing his hips to rise off the seat.

"Ohh, oh fuck. You're so wet. I can hear it." He groans as though in agony. The thrusts begin to pick up pace and you grind down onto him. Your mouth can open just wide enough to accommodate the majority of his girth, you already know your neck is going to kill you tomorrow. Worth it. The skin of his cock is silky slick with both of you, he glides across your tongue easily but it requires pressure to fit him down your throat. Its like consuming fire, you're burning up from the inside out and its painfully perfect. 

In the darkness of the unlit SUV you can't see anything, you can only hear Diego moan and pant while your nose is buried in the soft hair on his lower belly. The intensity of being engulfed in his scent drives you to distraction, you grind down hard on his foot and you're so, so close. His hips lift off the seat to push deeper and you ride his motions, swallowing around the head of his cock. One enormous hand sinks deep into your curls, he pulls gently just because he knows you like it. His purr is deep, "My perfect little Princess."

That's all it takes. You drop your entire weight onto his foot to shudder and whine as an orgasm rips through you. Hips jerking in time with each spasm deep inside, you ride out all the waves without ever breaking rhythm on his dick.

Diego is frozen in shock as he realizes what just happened. He pulls you off, much to your whining disappointment, to stare down at you in awe. He stutters a little, "Good. Girl."

The instant he releases ringlets you dive down onto him with renewed vigor. The emphatic praise only spurs you on even stronger. Everything is wet; his dick, your mouth, his pants, your chin, the seat, your dress, his shoe. Everything. The sounds, the way he tastes, you're desperate to have him. 

"You want this? You want Diego?" His voice is so rough, so harsh. You nod tightly and moan for him, high pitched and hoarse. "Princess, so damn good, take it. Take all of me. Fuck, you look goddamn amazing on my cock." His hands stroke endlessly over your hair, his hips are jerking harshly and you know he is close. "Shit. Shit shit shit. Come," he is gasping, panting, "Come again for Diego, mi amor." His body stiffens, his legs shake, the grip in your hair tightens, and his head drops backwards to the seat as he pours down your throat in scorching jets. 

Diego collapses, boneless and breathless, but you don't release him. Your right hand shoots down between your legs to work your clit furiously while you continue suckling softly. 

"Yesss," he sighs upon noticing your actions. His voice drops low, overflowing with sinful threat, "You come for Diego. Pretty little Princess, all mine. Follow orders, come on your Murder Panther."

It breaks you. Your whole body seizes up as you wail for him, clenching down on nothing in painful ecstasy. Finally relinquishing his cock, you flop face down into his lap with an exhausted groan. Diego melts back into the seat and you both just lay there, panting.

Diego raps on the door window but stays slumped down and loose-limbed. 

Bastian unlocks the SUV, then pops the driver's door to stick his head inside. "Yeah, boss?" The blonde studiously avoids looking lower than Diego's face. You can hear Julio chuckling behind Bastian.

"Fuck the club. Take us home." Diego decrees lazily. You sputter joyful laughter directly into his pants.

You ride home curled up in his lap, snuggled into that salt and pepper beard you love so much while Diego feathers kisses all over your face, the knife cradled in your hands.

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

Diego stumbles down the stairs the next morning, yawning hugely, only to find Julio in the kitchen, unashamedly raiding the fridge. Bastard, Diego chuckles.

"Manito! We need to talk." Julio gets right to the matter. "Before Gordita gets up." He adds pointedly.

Uhh, what. "Fine. Talk. Also, are you eating carrots at 10:12am??" That is disgusting.

Diego plops down onto a barstool and stares dejectedly at the espresso machine until Julio rolls his eyes and turns it on for him.

"Look, you need a check, eh?" Julio sighs but stands firm while Diego side eyes him suspiciously. When no objection comes, Julio forges on, "She saw you murder two people and cut an ear off a third last night, right? And her response was to blow you in the car? Fucking ride your foot to come, what, twice?"

Diego smiles dreamily, "Yeah. It was a good night." So. Much. Licking.

Julio passes him the steaming mug, "If you don't put a ring on it, pendejo..." 

Diego nearly drops the mug as his closest confidante walks off into the living room.

Shit, Julio is right.

[changarroo]

This Time is Different // Jisung

(omg i tired gif-ing for the first time,,,)

❖ summary:  Even Spider-Man needs a little love and that’s what you were going to give him. Every day he zips through the city saving people but nobody appreciates him as much as they should. When suddenly you come around and flip his world around

❖ a/n:  Happy Birthday to a person that brings me an infinite amount of joy and love. I have recently been obsessed with Spider-Han and I wanted to do such for his birthday. I really like the way it turned out, it a bit different for me since it’s all sweet and I usually do angst but it warmed my heart so I hope you enjoy

❖ genre: spiderman au

❖ han jisung x reader

Tomorrow is the day I’m going to talk to Y/N.., it truly can’t be this hard. I think I’m just overthinking. Han paced around his room with his mask on and looks at himself in the mirror 

“You look really nice today… I love that coat on you” he stops and thinks “No that’s too childish but she doesn’t seem overly complicated” 

He thought back to the time he overheard you talking to your friend 

“I’m a sucker for cheesy romance scenes. I’ve always wanted those moments where you instantly click once you look into their eyes” you giggle with your friends and they roll their eyes 

He smiles to himself “I got this”

Morning rolls around and he looks at himself on his phone camera and messes with his hair making sure it looks okay. He looks up and sees you approaching him. He stands up and clears his throat catching your attention

You smile widely “Hello Jisung” you give him a small wave and he smiles back quickly 

“Hey y/n you l-look really g-good today” he manages to spit out 

“Awe really thank you!!” You look down at your simple mom jeans and a ruffled top 

“You look really good too. I like your hair” 

But before he could say something back you were pulled by your friends 

“See you in class,” he says softly to himself and heads to the cafe to get a drink

Time clicks away and Han sits there sighing to himself wanting more than a simple

Conversation 

“Why it is so easy for me to talk to her as Spider-Man” he speaks quietly

Two weeks back 

You were walking home alone after coming from a study group. It was quite chilly that night so you hugged your coat tighter. You hated walking around at night alone but your dorm was close by. You look in front of you and see a male figure in front of you. You abruptly stop and try to calm down before wanting to turn back around and see another figure. Your hands started to shake as they each got closer. You look around seeing where you can run too. When you head to run in the street, you see a figure come and knock down one of the males and went for the other like there was no problem. He sets them to the side and approaches you

Han’s POV 

He was in the same cafe as y/n and your group but stayed to himself not wanting to socialize as much. After a few hours, he noticed you had left so he got up and followed you hence it was late and secondly you had no one there to walk you home. He placed his hoodie on and kept a large distance between you and him so it didn’t look like he was following you. He had stopped to tie his shoe halfway through the way to your house… as he was down tying his shoe a man quickly walked past him and he looked up to see another male in front of you. He could see the panicked look on your face and heard your heart rate increases. He looked around and hid behind a house before swinging swiftly on his web to the roof looking at both men and quickly executed a plan to take them out. As he did so he could see your eyes close the entire time and as you slowly opened them each time you heard a groan from a fallen man. 

He approached you softly and takes your hand “it’s alright now” he bites his lip in his mask as you looked at him 

“I- Spider-Man?” She was very shocked to see him in this neighborhood. She gave him a huge hug in which he was taken aback but doesn’t miss the chance to have you close 

“It’s really no problem,” He said reassuringly as you pulled back, him slightly missing your warmth already 

You fiddled with your sweater “I really want to repay you” You sat softly and his heart rate picks up and he clears his throat

“How about you just let me take you home” he smiles although it is not shown and you nod “that sounds amazing” 

He pulls you close “I-I’m going to grab on to you” he hated that he stutters around you

“That’s fine just please don’t drop me,” you say looking into his eyes and give a warm smile 

“I would never dream of it” he grabs your waist firmly and begins to swing on his web and you

Cling on to him not even realizing you never gave him the way to your house. He always wanted to have these moments with you but was never man enough unless he was behind the mask. He needed to find a way to talk to you as Han Jisung, not Spider-Man. 

Shortly after you felt him softly hit the ground and you open your eyes looking at your house “how did you know where I live” 

He didn’t think of that factor. He watched you so many times head home just so he could make sure you were safe it stuck with him. 

“I am always swinging by so I tend to pick up on things and the people in the area. My friend also lives close by” He says trying to build on his lie 

“Oh, really who? If you don’t mind me asking?” You look for your key as you asked 

“Han Jisung” he answers quickly 

“Found it… oh, Han!” You smile brightly 

“You know him?” He got slightly excited 

“Yes of course. He is such a sweetheart to me but I never get to talk to him enough” You pout “he’s also always so shy around me so we don’t really talk because of that but personally, I don’t mind him being shy” you never thought about how much you pay attention to him in class

“Oh yeah he is a shy kid but he should open up more. I tell him all the time” He laughs and rubs his neck 

“Yeah well when he does tell him I’d love to get to know him” she approached him and kisses his cheek 

“Thank you for saving me Spider-Man” you smile and head inside and Han watches you until you head upstairs and swings home yelling happily. He slips through his window and takes his mask off and flops all around his bed 

“She is so stunning” he smiles happily and holds the mask to his chest. He looks over at the calendar and realized that in a week it was his birthday. He never really got to do anything for his birthday since he was always saving the city but he hopes this year will be different. He touches his cheek softly before drifting off to sleep. 

Present Time

You rush to class late holding your books tightly. Your mother had taken the car leaving you to walk to campus. It was about a 30-minute walk but your alarm never went off so you had to cram in a two-minute shower, last-minute rushed makeup and a very unstable outfit. You didn’t his time to put in contacts so you had to wear your wooden circular glasses. As you walk quickly to campus you see someone swinging on web and you turn to your right 

“Hi Spider-Man” you look at him and approach him 

“Usually you are in class” he lowers himself more 

“I am but my mom took the car and I woke up late so here I am” you brush the hair out of your face 

“What a dilemma,” He says and you roll your eyes “I really need to get going,” you say starting to walk and he hops down 

“Let me take you to class” He offers 

“It’s truly okay” you walk quicker 

“You won’t make it there in time I guarantee” you stop knowing he is right 

“Okay fine” you walk back to him and hold on to him 

“You look good with glasses” he smiles in the mask 

“Oh hush and swing spider boy” you smile to yourself 

After the incident about three weeks ago you have noticed him always hanging out and watching you make sure you got him safe. You guys have had many talks at night.., he even built a web for the two of you to lay back and stargaze 

FlashBack

“When’s your birthday” you casually ask him looking over 

“In one day 38 minutes and 15 seconds to be exact” He answers and you quickly sit up 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!?” You hit his arm softly wishing he would take his mask off but you’ve already asked and have been shot down 

“It’s not really important. I’m always busy saving the city so I don’t have time” 

You frown and think for a moment “I need you to meet me under the large old oak tree at four in one day 35 minutes and 34 seconds” you smile and lean into him. It’s crazy to think you were falling for someone whose face you’ve never seen but his personality is what draws you in. It almost reminds you of Han. After that talk you had with Spider-Man about Han, in class, he was joking and opened up to you and you enjoyed it. It was crazy how similar the two were. You looked at Spider-Man and shake your head “no way it can’t be… but I’m not doubting it either” 

He drops you off on campus “thank you so much” 

He smiles of course “I’ll see you later tonight still right?” 

You nod quickly “yes I’m so excited” you rush off to class and see Han sitting there and you stopped “if he is the person I think he is how-” 

“Ms. Y/L/N late again?” Your professor states 

“Einstein said time is relative… so maybe I’m not late you are just early” you say with a dead serious face and Han laughs “sorry it was just really bad timing”

You giggle and sit next to him “what have I missed?” You lean and catch a piece of red string on his shirt and you pull it off

“Nothing much just a small video on standard deviation” You nod and lean back in your chair. 

Your classes end early due to your second professor canceling class

“Hey Y/N where you headed too?” Han asks as he heads to his next class 

“I have to get stuff ready for Spider-Man’s birthday. I want to do something for his birthday since he never really gets to celebrate it” You say happily

“Oh that is really sweet” Han answers 

“Mhm, I’ll see you later” you walk off quickly trying to hurry and finish Spider-Man’s gift. 

A couple hours later everything is packed and ready to go. You pack it in a basket and head upstairs to shower and change into something nicer. 

Once you were all set you headed to the forest to see him already waiting

“Did I keep you waiting for long?” you asked worriedly 

“No not at all” you smile in relief as he answers 

“I made you something but first” you pulled down his mask to expose his lips and you kiss him softly as he joins the motion and you pull away 

“Happy Birthday Han Jisung” You hold the basket with all his favorite items and cartoon characters and you smile happily knowing you finally find your hero

[cpw-nyc]

Lewd awakening By Nathan Burstein

It was not your average police bust. On the evening of July 30, cops in Times Square arrested one man, a middle-aged artist, and a pair of young women who were completely naked — except for a colorful layer of body paint.

The painted ladies were briefly handcuffed, then got dressed before they were put into a cop car — and taken into custody, where they’d remain for 25 hours.

Talk about suffering for your art!

Painter Andy Golub, 45, has spent the past three years giving new meaning to the term “painting nudes,” using his brushes not to depict naked women on a canvas — but painting his vision directly onto their skin.

Typically clad in nothing but flip-flops and (usually) a G-string, the artist’s topless muses have posed for him at city landmarks including Columbus Circle and the Brooklyn Bridge, as well as nearly two dozen times in Times Square — where they’re one of the few sights that can make even world-weary New Yorkers look twice.

“For me, it’s the most fun to paint where it has a really strong impact,” says Golub, a married father of two.

“When I started painting outdoors, it became an interaction that included the public. When people see a nude model, it’s like, ‘Wow’ — it makes them look at things differently.”

The decision to have his models take off even their G-strings was what you might call an au naturel extension of his earlier work.

“It’s very much a continuation of what I’ve been doing,” he says. “I explained [to the models] that it was perfectly legal, but that I had not done it before, and I couldn’t say what the reaction of the police might be. These particular models were comfortable with it.”

As was Golub, who’s had enough encounters with cops that he wasn’t entirely surprised — or prepared — when this particular outing ended in his first arrest. A resident of South Nyack, NY, Golub majored in art at SUNY Albany, but says he considers himself “pretty much self-taught, developing my own style.” He discovered his, ahem, arresting personal technique via more traditional modes of painting, many of which he continues to practice at his Rockland County studio.

“I was painting canvases for many years, and then I started painting different objects, such as a car muffler, a car, surfboards — and it was just really cool having the art interact with the object,” he says. After painting a mannequin, he realized it might be interesting to paint a real person — a project he completed for the first time at the 2006 Artexpo in New York. “It really took off,” he recalls.

“Once I started painting people, I noticed that it’s a lot more than painting the form — each person has a personality or energy that you can incorporate into the art.”

His models are a mix: Some are volunteers who have been inspired by seeing his work on the street, in nightclubs or at corporate events. Some pay him — he charges between several hundred and several thousand dollars, depending on the project — or are professionals selected from ModelsMayhem.com.

Golub acknowledges that “definitely a lot more women than men” pose for him, but he notes that he’s repeatedly taken on male subjects as well. His wife is “fully supportive” of his close contact with topless models, and he says it was she who pushed him to continue body painting after his initial splash at Artexpo.

To create his unique style, he typically uses bright colors, beginning by applying a quick coat of paint, then tracing over it in contrasting shades. Spectators sometimes liken the final product to the creatures from “Avatar,” though Golub’s designs are much more ornate.

The painted bodies can inspire other comparisons, too.

“It’s very Lady Gaga-ish and strange — in a good way,” says 19-year-old Kejaana Gibbs, an aspiring art student who recently observed Golub’s work during a visit from Waterbury, Conn.

“It’s interesting, a beautiful thing.”

Of course, not everyone responds so positively to the public nudity. Occasionally, a passerby will confront Golub, or even call the police.

“One time someone called 911 while I was in Times Square,” the artist says. “People will come and say, ‘You shouldn’t do this, because of the kids.’ ”

But testing boundaries is part of the point, he continues — and kids in particular have expressed enthusiasm for his work. “Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but I think there is nothing damaging about what I’m doing,” he says. “[Most] people love it, and kids love it because it’s treating the body in a completely nonsexual way. It’s about not being ashamed of the body.” That said, police do tend to show up regularly at Golub’s painting sessions, often calling in to headquarters to confirm the artist’s assertion that, yes, his models’ outdoor toplessness is legal. (The definition of “public lewdness” is somewhat ambiguous, since it doesn’t specify what qualifies as lewd.)

The police have never detained him — or at least they hadn’t, until his models took things a step further last month. Despite his arrest, Golub insists that full-frontal nudity in his art is legal, and says he has a “very good” lawyer to prove it when he faces misdemeanor public lewdness and exposure charges in October. (Nevertheless, he admits he’ll probably wait for his case to be settled before having his models go completely naked again.)

His muses, he adds, are fully informed about the relevant legal issues before they pose, and he’s always ready to accommodate their requests or let them change their minds. “It’s very exciting,” says one of his recent subjects, a 24-year-old Japanese tourist who gave her “art name” as Ayame. Wearing nothing but a silver pendant and leopard-print panties, she posed for three hours in Times Square, as Golub coated her in shades of blue. While tourists pointed from the tops of double-decker buses, cab drivers and pedestrians snapped photos on their cellphones, some elbowing each other with goofy smiles and others pausing with thoughtful expressions as they observed the scene.

“You get a great mix of people,” Golub says. “A lot of times, people say, ‘Only in New York.’ It’s an expression I hear very often while I’m painting. It’s fun to be part of people’s experiences here.”

http://nypost.com/2011/08/09/lewd-awakening/

2017 NYC Bodypainting Day Teaser