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keanuquotes · 2 years ago

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The Enduring Appeal of Keanu Reeves He battles evildoers in 'John Wick 4,' manufactures two-wheel pieces of art, and is worshiped by the internet, but Keanu Reeves swears he's just a normal guy. And he’s got the scars to prove it. Ky HendersonMar 15, 2023 9:00 AM EDT It’s easy to look cool when you’re riding a motorcycle, but it’s hard to look cooler than Keanu Reeves on a brisk, sunny afternoon in Los Angeles. He rests his left hand on his thigh and steers with his right, which gooses the throttle as he weaves around slow drivers. He wears a form-fitting black canvas motorcycle jacket that accentuates how trim he is—even more fit than he appears on-screen—and a beat-up Shoei helmet. He leaves the visor up, choosing instead to shield his eyes with sunglasses the Terminator might wear to a Hamptons garden party. Reeves looks at home and at ease on a motorcycle. He looks cool.

At a gas station stop, he suggests switching bikes. We’re each riding cruisers made by Arch, the motorcycle company Reeves co-founded with designer Gard Hollinger in 2011. The company produces high-end, highly personalized production bikes; I’m on a 1s, the company’s new $100,000+ sport cruiser. Reeves is on an older model, KRGT-1, but it’s his personal Arch, a true one-of-a-kind. It's the only Arch ever painted YK Blue, a color Reeves and Hollinger commissioned based on the ultramarine pigment famously mixed by mid-century French artist Yves Klein. Reeves says all that’s left of the paint is in a tiny can stored somewhere at Arch in case the bike’s paint ever needs touch-ups.

Which it most certainly would if, let’s say, some idiot were to put the bike down in front of a horrified Reeves while riding down the Pacific Coast Highway. Thankfully, there’ll be no lowsides today. Although the bike is beefy, with a 2,032cc V-twin powerplant, it’s easy to maneuver and comfy as a BarcaLounger.

Keanu Reeves stands in motorcycle factory holding blue mug Brian Bowen Smith

Reeves eventually leads us back to Arch’s factory building, which is nondescript from the outside but artfully decorated inside using shipping containers to separate working areas. Metal fabrication is done behind one; customer bikes are lined up in another with technicians hard at work. After Reeves dips outside for a cigarette—the 58-year-old both looks like a much younger man and smokes with the frequent abandon of one—he leads us to a small conference room.

“I like meeting people, but I’m a little reserved,” he warns as he settles into an office chair, looking far less comfortable than he did on a motorcycle. “How much of my private life do I want to talk about? I don’t know. Otherwise, let’s hang out.”

When Reeves was growing up in the Yorkville neighborhood of Toronto, he was consumed with existential thoughts. He discussed death a lot more than the average 11-year-old, for instance—but not because he wanted to die. He just wanted answers to big questions. Perhaps not entirely unrelated to his interest in mortality, he was also obsessed with the biker gangs that periodically motored into the neighborhood. It wasn't pods of dentists letting loose on weekends. It was leathers, patches, menace—the whole deal. And Reeves loved it.

“They looked exotic,” Reeves says. "They looked to me like they were free. Plus the bikes were cool and sounded great.”

Despite his childhood fascination, Reeves was in his early 20s before he first rode a motorcycle. It happened at a movie studio in Berlin—where else?—when he saw a woman on an off-road enduro bike in a parking lot. He approached her and asked if she’d teach him to ride, which she agreed to on the spot. (If you’re wondering why a woman would do that for a total stranger, search “Keanu Reeves in the 80s” in Google Images.)

Not long after he got back to Los Angeles, he bought a 1973 Mk2a Norton Commando, having long admired the classic brand. That bike currently sits in the Arch shop, which is notable for two reasons: One, few longtime riders are lucky enough to be able to hold onto their first bike. Two, over the years Reeves has…suffered some mishaps.

“Yeah, I’ve fallen off a few times,” he admits of the accidents he’s had on a variety of bikes. He takes a swig of water, then corrects himself. “Not ‘fallen off.’ Crashed. I’ve got a couple of hit-by-cars. A couple of going-too-fast. I’ve laid a couple of bikes down but I was riding in the winter, so that’s not really ‘crashing.’ That’s about it. The usual stuff.”

He’s broken ribs, knocked out teeth, sliced his leg open so deep that bone was visible. His most spectacular accident occurred in 1988, only a couple years after that day in Berlin. Reeves was riding alone at night in Malibu’s Topanga Canyon when he took one of the twisties too fast. By the time he came to a stop, he was lying on the pavement wondering if he was about to die. As you know, he didn’t—but he did fuck himself up pretty bad.

“I ruptured my spleen,” he says matter-of-factly. The widely reported version of the story goes that he needed the organ removed, but Reeves says it’s still intact. “They sutured it up and put a Band-Aid on.” He has a gnarly scar running vertically from his sternum down to his belly button, but in the right light it just ends up accentuating his abs because, well, he’s Keanu.

Reeves first met Hollinger through a mutual acquaintance about two decades after that crash, when Reeves wanted a custom sissy bar—basically, a backrest for a passenger—added to his 2005 Harley Davidson Dyna. Hollinger, who at that point was a relatively well-known, well-respected customizer with his own small LA shop, wasn’t interested.

“I knew I could build him the world’s most expensive sissy bar,” Hollinger says, “but I also knew it wouldn’t be satisfying for either of us.”

Instead, Hollinger spent the next five years completely reimagining the bike. He’d work in spurts, changing or adding something, then handing the bike back over to Reeves for months. By the time the bike was finished, Hollinger says, about the only parts of the original Dyna still remaining were the engine and the serial number on the chassis. Today that bike—a chromed-out ride fit for Mad Max—is displayed in the shop, the inspiration for what eventually became Arch.

Keanu Reeves on motorcycle wearing black canvas jacket and sunglasses Brian Bowen Smith

Eventually being the key word. When, during the long process of modding the bike, Reeves first suggested to Hollinger that the two team up to start a motorcycle company, Hollinger didn’t have to think about his answer.

“I knew what a tough business it is, what a challenge it would be—and that it would not be a great investment,” Hollinger, now 63, says with a laugh. “It was a wonderful motorcycle I built and it was wonderful getting to know Keanu, but starting a motorcycle company sounded like a horrible idea.”

Reeves didn’t relent. As the pair became better friends—and as the motorcycle continued to take shape—they’d have long conversations about the realities of starting the company. Hollinger would show up to their discussions with pages of questions written on a legal pad, but what gradually eroded his hesitation was the thoughtfulness with which Reeves described the experience of riding a motorcycle.

Finally, nearly convinced, Hollinger asked Reeves to boil everything down to one reason why they should do something as seemingly crazy as starting a motorcycle company. The actor came up with it on the spot—a reason Hollinger immediately understood, which allowed him to envision the company and its worth as an opportunity to do something meaningful and long-lasting.

“Because,” Reeves told him, channeling the mortality-obsessed 11-year-old kid gawking at dudes on motorcycles, “we’re going to die.”

Related: 2023 Arch 1s Sport Cruiser Is the American (V-twin) Dream

There have been many jokes made over the years about Reeves being a dummy, but after spending about 8 seconds with the guy it’s obvious he’s keenly intelligent. I mention that I read lots of sci-fi and fantasy books as a kid, which prompts him to ask whether I have opinions on several titles, followed by recommendations to read several others.

Thing is, his idiosyncratic public persona—which is sort of like Ted (not Bill) if Ted were a little more shy and a much better dresser—isn’t an act. Reeves isn’t trying to fool his critics or fans. And he isn’t really putting on an act in an attempt to prevent people from knowing who he is. He’s just this very singular, introspective, likable person who happened to become a pop culture icon.

All of that said? He can be pretty goofy. His physical mannerisms are sometimes at odds with what he’s saying, like he’s being controlled by feuding puppeteers. He speaks haltingly, stopping and starting and stopping again, often all in the same sentence, as he considers what exactly he wants to say or, just as likely, what he doesn’t want to say. More than once over the course of an afternoon he giggles—yes, giggles—at something he says or thinks, placing his cupped hand over his mouth like a theatrical school child hiding laughter; the gesture is as strange as it is endearing. He's somehow both laconic and verbose, calm and keyed up.

Although Reeves has long been known as “The internet’s boyfriend,” he’s currently dating—sorry, internet—acclaimed visual artist Alexandra Grant. The pair first collaborated on the 2011 book Ode to Happiness after having known each other previously; in the following years they collaborated on other projects and co-founded the small book imprint X Artists’ Books. Their romantic relationship began about five years ago but only became public knowledge two years in, when they arrived at a red carpet event together.

When asked about Grant, Reeves leans back in his chair as though trying to put both metaphorical and literal distance between himself and the idea of discussing his personal life.

So, uh, maybe it’s best to make it about bikes: What’s Grant’s opinion of Reeves’ (occasionally injurious) motorcycle fixation?

“She used to have a motorcycle, so she’s fine with it,” Reeves says. Then he pauses, as he so often does, seemingly considering whether to say anything more. “She hasn’t ridden in a while.”

Despite his lifelong love of bikes, Reeves hasn’t ridden them much in his movies. There’s a brief scene in the landmark 1991 indie film My Own Private Idaho. There’s some riding in 1996’s Chain Reaction, including one scene in which he manages to outrun an exploding hydrogen reactor. He’s technically on a bike in John Wick 3 while battling bad guys, but that was all done while stationary in front of a green screen. He has no interest in shoehorning Arches into his movies, though a couple of Arches are featured in the futuristic 2020 video game Cyberpunk 2077, in which he also played a major role.

Reeves says there’s a brief motorcycle scene in the upcoming John Wick 4, a movie whose eventual existence might have been laughed at when the original film debuted. Despite the series’ current status as an unstoppable franchise juggernaut, it originally wasn’t even planned as a franchise—and it certainly didn’t appear destined to be one after John Wick received a somewhat tepid theatrical reception in 2014.

“It had some success in the theater, but it really became more popular in second viewings,” Reeves says. “So the studio asked if we wanted to do another one.”

Reeves does more than just kick unbelievable amounts of ass in the movies; he’s also had a hand in plotting out the sequels. The genesis of the third and fourth installments, he says, took place while he and director Chad Stahelski were on the road promoting the second and third movies, respectively.

“Generally, Chad and I cook ’em up while we’re doing press tours,” Reeves says. “We talk about what we’d do next if the current film does well. I’m like, ‘I want to ride a horse and do a horse chase!’ And Chad says, ‘Yeah, we can do it in Central Park!’”

Reeves says he doesn’t know what comes next for him, but John Wick 5 will almost certainly be an option—if he wants to do it. He’s currently developing a TV series, and maybe he’ll make the motorcycle road movie he’s long thought about making. He’ll also no doubt continue riding bikes and growing Arch because he loves doing both.

He says he may continue BRZRKR, the comic series he co-writes. He won’t stop helping others via his philanthropy (he declines to discuss other than to say it’s “in health and the arts”). And he’ll burnish his already-glowing reputation as, in his words, “a pretty respectful and considerate person,” because that’s how he likes to treat people.

“I’m just,” Reeves says as his mouth curls into a smirk and his arms shoot out in front of him as though he’s pleading to be believed, “a normal guy.”

via keanuworld

#keanu reeves #arch motorcycle #motorcycles

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thesilentgirlfromyourclass · 1 year ago

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Lilacs (or you being Hyunjin's model) - H. Hyunjin x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 678 words

Warnings: none

Summary: You being Hyunjin's muse for his new piece of art 💕

AN: I had a huge inspiration in the middle of the night yesterday, so I hope you like it ❤️

"Do you want me to stand like this? Or, maybe like this?" you asked your boyfriend for his opinion as the artist.

You were currently in Hyunjin's little art studio after he proposed that you would be the muse of his new painting. You immediately agreed and that is how you ended in front of him surrounded by lilacs that filled the room with the pleasant aroma of spring and a new beginning. Actually, Hyunjin didn't choose lilacs by accident. He informs you that they are a symbol of the first love, the one that always leaves its mark on the two lovers. That is what you were to each other - you met in high school and you have faced the thrills and trials of love as yet inexperienced, but there you were 5 years later - still in love like the first year.

Hyunjin looked one last time to check if the set up was fine before giving you last instructions.

"Put your elbow at the top of the table and put your chin on it. Yeah, exactly. That's it! Perfect!"

He gave you thumbs up. You blushed a little. Even though you have been together for 5 years straight, Hyunjin still knew ways to make you blush. One of them - painting or drawing you. Either you would sleep and he would draw you without your knowledge or you would be doing something else. That was his way of showing you that he cares and adores you.

"And I have to stay like this for hours?" you joked with him.

"Well, you agreed. Plus, it's not my fault that you are so beautiful. Actually, the lilacs are complimenting your whole existence, y'know?"

"Thank you, art boy." you answered.

"Not even one I love you, too or something? Even after I made you my model?" he asked with offended expression and a hand over his heart. "I think my heart can't take it."

You giggled while trying to hold your pose.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, you know I love you more than anything."

"Only that?" Hyunjin's face was now contorted as if in pain which made you laugh more.

"Are you gonna paint me or not? Because I am getting a bit tired." you fake yawned.

Hyunjin gave you one last smile before making the first stroke at the blank canvas in front of him reminding him of the first steps you took until you both built the bond you have now.

As the brush danced across the canvas, Hyunjin's focused gaze shifted between you and the emerging artwork. The lilacs began to take shape, each stroke echoing the five years of shared memories and the unspoken promises between you two.

"You make it look so easy," you remarked, breaking the silence in the studio.

He chuckled, "Well, it helps when you have the most inspiring muse."

The room was filled not only with the scent of lilacs but also with the warmth of shared history. Hyunjin continued to paint, occasionally stealing glances at you, capturing not just your physical form but the essence of your connection.

As the painting progressed, so did the conversation. You reminisced about the first time you met, the challenges you faced, and the simple joys that strengthened your bond. The lilacs became more than symbols; they became witnesses to your journey.

As the final touches were added, Hyunjin stepped back to admire his creation. The painting depicted more than just a scene—it told a story of love, growth, and the beauty found in shared moments.

"I think it's done," he said, looking at you with a satisfied smile.

You approached the canvas, eyes tracing the lines that mirrored your intertwined lives. "It's perfect," you whispered, feeling a surge of gratitude for the artist who turned your love into a timeless piece of art.

The painting found its place in your home, a testament to the enduring love that started in high school and continued to flourish in the small art studio filled with lilacs and sunlight.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic #SoundCloud

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perfectionts-virgo · 9 months ago

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JOSHUA ALDRIDGE

Walking around campus with Diana and Logan talking about their spell class... Sounds interesting than Being a leader 101 but I didn't choose my parents.

While walking I'm everybody socializing or walking in buildings...

"You heard about the party today?" Logan asked us

"Nah" I shake my head no "but I know the group chat will know though"

"I heard it's the biggest one the kappas" she replied looking around

"They said wear comfortable clothing that you donee mind getting wet" Logan said looking at us

"Welp that's sound interesting" I said chuckling

"We'll I have to slick my hair back then" Diana replied rolled her eyes

Me and Logan chuckled at diana attitude change

"Welp I'll see y'all later" Logan walking the other direction "I'm having a meeting p

"Bye" we said union kept walking till I seen the same group of people at the pool just talking... we walking pass I seen Isaac that men will make grown men cry I'm telling y'all.

I turned to face them again but he started at me.. we a staring contest but I eventually looked at diana I felt someone burning a hole back of my neck..

"What we meeting ?" I asked looking at diana

"What about 8 ?" She replied looking up from the

phone

"That's cool but I-" before I was nicely interrupted by someone tapping my shoulder I turned around it was Issac standing there looking like a ducking hood super model

"My bad but i over heard y'all talking about the party" he said rubbing the back of his neck

"Yeah we're going to meet up at his dorm at 8" Diana with tight smile I CAN'T STAND HER ASS... "we got a group chat if you want to join or you're clique already have plans"

"Di stop" I whispered to her she side eyed me... looking back at issac

"Actually I was going to meet up with them but I think I found new friends" he said with sly smile

"Okay Josh hand him your phone" she said making me turned to face her with a confused face "what happened with yours ?"

"I can't use my phone because I'm waiting on my zoom with parents" she said looking at me making a face

"Well here" I said handing him my phone

He handed me his I put my number down... we gave each other phones... became awkward

"Welp I talk to you later Josh" she said giving me a hug and turned to Issac "nice meeting you"

She walked away just leaving me and him alone

"Welp you got any class today ?" I asked looking at him

"Nah I was just chilling with the homies" he answered looking around then looked back at me

"That sound cool" I said examining him till I met his eyes

"Mmh you know I'm hybrid" he said moving closer "I got the abilities of a werewolf & vampire"

"I know" I quickly replied looking at him closely

"But do you know I can read minds also ?" He said looking with a sly smirk

(Man... WTF I was crushing like a middle school girl about him now this super human nigga heard everything... throw me away)

"Don't worry thank you for the complement" he said with a smirk

I was shook to say anything but have a nervous smile back...

"We'll I talked to you later I have to catch up with them" he said backing away "thank y'all in the group chat or I will text you"

"K" I replied with head nod

Seeing him walking away I turned away making my way to my second and final class of the day before I get ready for the party...

EJ ALEXANDER

I'm still shook about the kiss... I'm just laying down watching Insecure ... it was the episode when Molly and dro in the car talking. Her & Dro sexual tension is heavy I'm having flashbacks of how he was rubbing and grabbing my ass I'm feeling a water fall between my legs, I'm not a regular boy but I'm a intersex I was born a boy but I got female organs and vagina... the sex scene started I moved my hands down to my Calvin Klein briefs to the side bringing my fingers to my lips to lick them bring them back to starts to messaging my clit in slow circles.

I take one finger, dipping in and out I kept getting flashes of night before, shifting my hips so that I have more access to spread open my pussy, it felt so good I'm using my thumb rubbing my clit while using two fingers going in and out of my creamy hole.

"Shit" I whimpered still rubbing my clit

I'm imagining what will happen if Josh didn't make it... what if we was going to make love or he will pin me down the couch with my legs behind my head while holding my hands giving long strokes.

"O-oooh. Mmmy. GOD" I said feeling legs quivering

I kept rubbing till I felt like I was about to climax.. but I heard Joshua and some other person laughing loud... I goan and rolled my eyes paused the tv taking my hand out getting out the bed putting on my slides open my room door seeing him and Anthony talking but stopped and looked at me

"Sup E" Josh said with a smile turned back to the tv watching the basketball game

"Wassup" Anthony said giving a nod

"Hey y'all" I replied while washing my hands turning to the fridge grabbing juice.. then I heard the door opening seeing Romeo & Klaus walk in talking

"Hey y'all...Y'all heard about the party tonight ?" Klaus asked while taking a sit on the couch

"Nah what party ?" Anthony asked

"I heard but I was waiting on one y'all to talk the group chat" Josh said continue watch the game

"Nah I didn't" me & Romeo said union.. we awkward looked at each other

"We'll should go I heard it go crazy every year" Klaus replied looking back at the tv

"Why not... I'm down" I said grabbing my cup making my way to my room

I closed the door... seeing Terri text me about the plans so diana texted the groupchat about we meeting up here at 8 o'clock.. I was about the lay back down but I heard my door being knocked, I groaned and rolled my eyes and got up to open the door seeing Romeo standing all tall looking fine as ever wearing a white tank up showing his blue boxer briefs with grey basketball shorts with black peanut pattern message slippers... Damn he really look good asf tho...

"Can I come in ?" He asked looking at me for a answer

"Yeah" I answered back up moving out his way opening the for him

He walked in looking around turned to face with a smile

"What ?" I asked with a confused look on my face

"This the first time I been your room" he replied looking around again

"Well here it is" I chuckled looking around "I want my room to remind me of home plus make it my own"

"It's dope tho" he replied turned looked at the tv seeing I hurried up and grabbed the remote turned it off "What you watching ?"

"Inscure" I answered we both standing up look dumb

"You don't mind if I could lay down ?" He asked

"I don't mind" I said turning around to walked out to the pantry and grabbed some snacks and drinks making my way to my room closing the door and locked it "What the bag for ?"

I was to busy focus how fine he was but I didn't notice he had a bag with him like we not roommates

" I don't feel like getting up walk to my room" he replied shaking his head "that's doing to much of you don't mind ?"

"Not at all little confused that's all" I said chuckling " I didn't seeing it at first"

"Oh well it's not hurt nobody" he replied with a low chuckle

"I know I was confused that's all" i said nodding my head

Seeing him taking his slides off, feet all out... okay I see someone is comfortable, getting in the bed waiting on me to get in so made my way to the bed to sit down slipping off my slippers to carefully getting in the bed turn on lovecraft country kinda high volume putting the remote on the nightstand, he put the cover over us... I'm such a scary cat I loved this show I hope he enjoy it because im not changing it.

"What this show about ?" He asked turned to looked at me

"Just sit back and enjoy" I answered

"Okay smart ass" he replied with chuckled

Two episodes down... he enjoyed it and my scary ass don't do jumps scare and nothing but the show is so good now we watching the episode where Leti having a house warming party the sexual tension her & tic have making me awkward laying down with my crush that I kissed the last night not so earlier masturbated about it...

Feeling him getting closer, I turned my head seeing close viewing his side profile... he so fine, he slightly bit his bottom lip... I guess felt me staring before he turned face me I turned to tv

"I know I'm fine Damn" he said making playfully rolled my eyes making him laugh

"Don't do to much... the one that's so close to me" I said continue watching leti walked in the bathroom

putting water on face..

"So we not going to talk about last night ?" He asked whimpered in my ear

Whew

"About what we probably was intoxicated" I answered continue watching leti & tic making out... I'm so sexual frustrated because I didn't catch my nut

I guessed he picked up on the tension plus they characters going at it.

"I wasn't tho" he said moving me closer middle of the bed "I know you wasn't because I would've taste the alcohol on your lips"

"Okay ?" I said focusing back on tv

"Bet" he said nodded his head feeling his left arm wrapped my waist cuddling

He pulled my shorts and briefs off... Wtf I was about to say something I seen him lick his middle & ring finger putting his fingers on my pussy to start slowly messaging my clit in slow circles..

"What are you ?" I asked shook

"Play with my pussy" he replied with the low sexy voice I ever heard ever

"We can't do this" I said I grabbed his wrist

"Move your hands E" he said stern " I'm not playing with you"

I didn't move my hands... I guess don't didn't him happy, he takes his fingers, pulling my pussy lips apart.

"What you doing" I said with a low moan

"Playing with my pussy" he takes one finger, dipping in and out of me. I kept staring at what he doing, shifting my hips so he can have a more access. Still rubbing my clit with his long thumb.

"Ooooh" I moan out I couldn't stop myself

"That's what I'm talking about" he slap my vulva.

He slapped my pussy repeatedly with fingers, he slides his long fingers back inside of me causing me to moan. My clit was aching to be sucked or pinched. Something, because it was becoming too much, I'm pushing his hand away since the sensation was overstimulating for me.

"That clit is so juicy, Huh ?" He spoke to softly, he take his fingers out to spit on them, bringing them back to my clit rubbing softly, I froze arch my back, slid his middle and ring finger back in pussy made me pout out my bottom lip letting out tiny cries escaping my mouth.

"Yes" I said with a moan turn to a whimper

"Yes... what ?" Continue sliding in and out

"Daddy" I said softly

I felt him find a better angle his fingers inside of me more so he could stroke.

He stare at the mess I was making

"I know you want to cum... be a good boy and cum for me" he continued stroke me making my legs shaking

I let out a groan. Arching against the bed, my pussy clamping down on his fingers while continue stroking his fingers. My cum dripping down his long digits and in between. He softly slapped my folds. He fingers rubbed up and down my slit.

"Does it feel good ?" He asked looking through my soul

I just nodded dragging my tongue over my bottom lip.

"Talk to me, say yes" Romeo's hand dragged up 'y thighs.

"Yes" being lost in eyes

He kept stroking my spot while using his thumb my clit, I let out shaky breath, I open my shaking thighs.. he watch my juicy peach span open for him, he already feel in love with the sound of my wetness and the all the honey sticking to my clit, labia, and outer pussy lips. My hips jerked wildly before Romeo takes one his arms to hold me down me in place.

"Mmmhhh it's so creamy....I love how wet and creamy this pussy is," he said

"Mmmmh" I moaned out

His fingers circled my clit, my legs shake and thighs trembling.

"Then I'm going make you cum like this" he continued at same pace "this how you play with your clit ?"

He could hear the sounds my was making, he kept hitting my spot. I sat up with my elbows staring down at the scene, he's currently making me quiver, I felt tension in my belly unravel... I'm feeling him kissing my neck... kept stroking me, attacking my spot I felt something I never knew I can feel...

"I can feel it... Bring it to daddy" he rubbing my clit with thub again hitting my spot

"Oh, My G-God, Rome," I feel eyes rolled back of my head "Oooohhh Mmy G-God"

He started to pulling his finger in and out, he was really making my pussy talk with how he was fingering me. He kept hitting my spot, he spit on his other hand to start rubbing on my clit, before I could say anything to him.... The next thing I knew, I was cumming but he kept stroking till I was squirted... before I screamed Romeo crashed his lips to mine. Taking my breathe away each time he kissed me.

"We could sleep couple hours before the party" he said while sucking on his fingers, I'm just laying there worn out "and don't worry about coming back cleaning your because you spending night in mine till morning"

I just nod my head... feeling myself doze off before I felt his lips on my forehead...

KLAUS DAVIS

They didn't lie about the party being crackin, everybody enjoying Their self... it's already three hours in and I need to piss so I'm looking around the sorority house for a bathroom I went the third set of stairs till I seen double door saying "POS" I open it seeing the baddies girl I seen on campus looking frustrated, she turned a looked at me surprised..

"What are you doing here ?" She asked looking at confused

"I'm looking for a bathroom" I answered honestly

I'm to busy looking around the room seeing China ,Hawaii & Jamaica influence with the furniture... I turned back to see her still looking at me weird.

"My bad" I said before walking but she grabbed my wrist

"It's okay I need your help anyway" she said turning around her big ass walk-in closet "you can come in here"

I walked in her huge ass closet, see her looking Clothes.. she turned her face to my way.

"The bathroom right there" she said pointing at the bathroom wide open "you can use it"

"Thanks" I said walking in closing the door

After taking a piss... I wash my hands drying them with a build in hand dryer opening the the door see her nothing but a pink thong and her pink LEMONADE Bite Me Lace Up Platform heel... and she have a tattoo on her right ass cheek..

"You don't mind zipping this for me ?" She asked turned around her titties out, she some big ass titties at that but they perfect tho nice a nipples too... Whew stay strong bro

"Nah I don't mind" I replied she walking in front of me still shirtless... put on the fitted denium collar

sleeveless mini dress with zipper on the on her ass

She put her head thru the hole... she already have the dress on but that's where I'm in the equation.. I zipped up the dress till I made up over ass.. that's where the zipper ended up stopping at, she turned around looking good with her cleavage out looking good.

"What's your name ?" She asked looking at me

"My name Klaus" I answered looking back at her "what your name ?"

"Celia Rose I'm the president of this sorority" she replied with sly smirk "I'm the one for plan this party"

All shit... Okay boss lady

"Well I see you downstairs thank you for helping with the dress" she said making her way out of the closet to in front of her vanity touching up on her hair.

"No problem see you downstairs" I replied walking the room.. going the stairs

I finally made back to the party, walking to get a drink, I seen a tall guy with glow in the dark hair making himself a drink.

"My bad" he said turned to face me "I didn't see you there"

"It's cool it's little crowded" I replied he nodded at me

"Welp you want a drink ?" He asked still holding a cup in his hands

"Yeah, is there something good ?" I answered looking at him

"Okay, I'm going to make you tipsy not fucked like everybody else but you feel it tho" he said pour a drink.

I just nodded my head just looking at him... he got swag, I'm still looking his hair because its glow in the dark

"Here you go" he said handing me the cup

"Thanks" I replied taking a sip that's shit is pressure "this shit is goo"

"Thanks I used to work at the bar during the summer" he said with a smile

I just nodded my head taking another sip

"I see you and your friends around campus" he said taking another sip his drink

"Yeah we be chilling, Hanging out" I replied

"Can I get your number because I need find me new friends that actually want to sit down and chill" he said looking at the four group just taking sip of their cupcaking with other members of frats "I'm tired of the the plus five"

Why not

"Sure" I said grabbing my phone from my pocket "here"

We handing each other phones, typing our numbers in. Passing it back to each other.

"Here you go" he said handing me my phone while handing his back "I will text you to let you know it's me"

"Alright if not I probably having hangover" I said chuckling making him laugh also

"What is my Matters" he said looking at me "my name is Xavier"

"My name is Klaus" I said looking him closer " nice to meet you"

"I will call you because they going to steal me from you" he said

"Already I will answer no problem" I replied with a smile

He smiled back turned to face the group

I turned to see ej and Terri so walking to them.. tonight was something else I seen somebody half naked plus made a friend in one night...

#melaninenthusiasts #aesthetic #masterlist

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justthehiddleswrites · 4 years ago

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Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 4 | I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.

A/N: This will update every Thursday. There are 13 chapters. There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships. This is the one I choose to write this time.

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship. When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian. Which is the one thing he never knew he needed. Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship. But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open! Let me know if you want to be added. Thank you for reading!

Tom slept like a rock that night. The best night’s sleep in a long time. He dreamed of Vivian, kneeling on his chest, kissing him, teasing him, biting him. And he woke that morning with his cock hard and leaking. He stroked himself as he thought about Vivian. But not in the way he usually did. Instead of fantasizing of her touching him, sucking his cock, jerking him off, Tom closed his eyes and imagined his lips on Vivian’s folds and clit. Her hands in his hair tugging his head where she wants it. Vivian moaning in response to his touch, his tongue. As her pleasure increases, Tom’s motions in real life increased. Tom came with a soft gasp, spurting along his torso. He panted, trying to catch his breath. Once he regained his composure, he headed to the shower to clean himself up and go for a jog.

Vivian rapped her nails on the desk in her flat. Her email open on the screen. She was drafting the proposed protocols for Saturday to Tom, and she contemplated on how far to push him. So far, Tom exceeded all Vivian’s expectations. Which worried her. In the past, all men have been eager to please, at first. But once the shiny new wore off, and the men realized the relationship wasn’t about her fulfilling their fantasies of kinky sex and it was about surrendering to her authority, they ran. Sometimes without further word. It wasn’t the incompatibility that bothered Vivian, but the coldness in which they communicated it. As though she was without feeling or emotion. This caused her to assign the reading at the beginning, to move more cautiously. And she wasn’t sure if her heart could handle a rejection from Tom.

With a sigh, she typed out to Tom:

This is a date for the sole purpose of kissing. No food, no drink, no chitchat, no reading, no hanging out.

In short: Kissing, petting, stroking and all the things come along with that- yes. Talking, sex, orgasms- no.

Here is a list of what may happen, not what will happen. If anything bothers you or off limits, let me know.

- Kissing, obviously. Let me know of any spots that are off limits.

- Shirt off

- Pants off (underwear on)

-Nudity (you, not me)

- Kneeling

- Blindfold

- Light bondage (cuffs- both wrists and ankles, tied to the bed)

- Biting

-Bruises on your body (both in places normally covered by clothing and places it would be visible such as the neck)

- All over body touching (let me know of body parts off limits)

- All over body licking (same as above)

- Roles reversed (you touching/licking me)

- Hands around your throat (gentle not choking)

- Hair pulling

- Fingers in your mouth (not gagging)

- Body-slapping

- Pinching

And I think I covered everything. Wear a button-down (I like when you undo the top few buttons) and jeans or slacks. Send me a photo of what your current underwear options are. I will send you your address that morning. I expect you at 7.

Vivian

She smiled as she re-read the email. She buzzed with anticipation at the possibilities of Saturday night. Vivian was certain she would cuff and restrain Tom, and not just because he had the tendency to squirm underneath her. She suspected it would push a button and was eager to test her theory. She hit click and headed off to work.

Tom was eating breakfast, having finished his morning run when his phone dinged with a new email from Vivian. He read through her email and swallowed hard. The list was extensive. He re-read before finishing up breakfast and heading upstairs and digging through his underwear drawer. Tom had three options laid out on the bed. He snapped a photo of them laid out on the bed. He examined the photo, unhappy.

“Might as well.” he commented to himself as he stripped down and pulled on the first pair, navy boxers.

Tom stood in front of the full-length mirror in the closet and snapped a photo. He hated to admit he may have flexed a bit in the photo. He repeated the process with the white underwear briefs, and the black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Pleased with the photos, Tom typed back to Vivian.

Wow, that is quite the comprehensive list. I appreciate the thoroughness and the bullet points. I am not scheduled for any meetings until Wednesday, so any marks will have faded by then. My feet are ticklish. Probably shouldn’t tell you that. ;) And I would rather not have my armpits or the inside of my ears licked. Otherwise, I am game for whatever you want.

I have attached photos of the underwear, per your request. And if there is anything else I can do to be of service, please let me know, ma’am.

Your sunshine boy,

Tom

He attached the photos and sent the email and then returned to dressing for the day, flopping on the bed to return the last two books on his list before starting his essay.

Vivian was pleased Tom modeled the underwear rather than just lay them out of the bed. She probably would have directed him to model them. She wrinkled her nose at the first pic and flicking through the rest.

Black boxer briefs. Burn or throw away the tighty whities. If I find a pair in your home, I will punish you. Let’s change our night time call to 9:00 p.m. from now on. I hate keeping you up so late.

She placed the phone down on her desk. It buzzed almost immediately.

Consider them burned. 9 p.m. works for me, although I don’t mind waiting up if it means I get to hear your voice. :) I shall wait with bated breath until Saturday.

The rest of the day seemed to fly by for both of them and before long, Tom was settled into bed with both his books of collected poetry and Anna Karenina. He called on time and Vivian asked for him to read more of Tolstoy. He started doing voices of the characters, in particular an exaggerated Russian accent for Levin and Vronsky.

“I don’t think you are supposed to giggle at Tolstoy.” Vivian commented after one particularly dramatic passage.

“I’m a full service entertainer. Comedy, drama, action, romance.” Tom teased back.

“What about erotica?” she teased right back, her voice low.

Tom paused. “For you? Without question.” She could hear the hesitation, fear, and excitement in his voice. She hoped it would remain.

Vivian sighed. “I think it is enough reading for tonight. I want you to get a good night’s rest for tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am.” he responded.

“Goodnight, Tom, my sunshine.”

“Goodnight, Vivian.”

They ended the call, and both drifted off to sleep.

Vivian attended her weekly blowout appointment, not realizing Tom spent the day as a bundle of nerves. He ran ten miles hoping to burn off excess energy. It didn’t work. The only thing he did was finish the last of the books from Vivian’s list. The fastest ever read through anything in some time. He was too distracted to write his essay, thought swirling in his brain. Tom wants it to be perfect. He wants everything to be perfect for Vivian.

Tom must have tried on at least six different shirts, each discarded on the bed as unsuitable. He settles on a soft, well worn light blue shirt. One of his favorites. The collar is fraying at the corners, which is why he doesn’t wear out as much anymore, favoring instead newer but less comfortable shirts. He grabbed a pair of jeans only to notice a hole on the inside of the thigh and discarded them also on the bed, grabbing a different pair. Tom left the top two buttons undone, a calculated air of casual. A quick dab of cologne and then he waited, not wanting to arrive too early.

After her morning errands, Vivian ate a light lunch and set about preparing her flat for Tom. She made up the bed with fresh linens and double checked the restraint points on the posts. She hadn’t decided on a leg position, so Vivian placed straps on all the corners as well as the point in the middle. Vivian opened the nightstand and retrieved the cuffs, adjusting them and placing them prominently in the foyer on a table. Cuffing Tom would be among the first things she did that night. In addition, she laid out a blindfold on the nightstand and put a bottle of water there too. After bathing, she slipped into a simple silk tank and striped shorts. She wore the same wedges as before. Vivian enjoyed looking Tom in the eye while standing and kissing. A quick dab of perfume behind the ears and settled on the couch, watching some TV waiting for Tom.

He knocked on her door, ten minutes early. Acceptably early without fear of being so early that he disturbed preparations.

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” Tom commented.

Vivian giggled. His eagerness was endearing. “I’ll allow it. Come in.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He stepped into her flat, looking around in wonder. Vivian grabbed him by the chin and kissed him hard.

“Do you still remember your word, sunshine?”

“Yes.” Tom is already breathing hard. “Sushi.”

She smiled and slid her hand down around Tom’s neck. His Adam’s apple moving underneath her palm. His eyes widened in fear. Vivian kissed him again. He leaned forward when she stepped back. She walked around him, fingers tracing the planes of his body, his broad shoulders, defined pecs and abs. Vivian gave his ass a playful swat. Tom yelped and staggered forward.

“Such a nice ass, sunshine.” She growled in his ear, grabbing it with her nails.

“Thank you, ma’am.” his voice shook. He wasn’t used to being manhandled, and his cock appreciated the rough touch.

“Shirt and pants off.” She stepped back to watch him undressed.

Tom’s cheeks blushed. He had been nearly nude in a room of strangers before, but under Vivian’s glare, he never felt so exposed. Tom tugged his shirt over his head, not bothering to undo the buttons this time. He folded the shirt, placing it on the nearby table while he slipped his shoes and socks off, and slipping his jeans down his lean legs. Vivian licked her lips at Tom in his underwear. While the man appeared fit clothed, he was something carved from marble without the clothes. He flashed a lopsided smile as he placed his jeans on top of his shirt and folding his hands in front of him, obscuring his crotch.

“God, you are beautiful.” Vivian hissed as she stepped forward to kiss him again. Tom hummed back at the praise, his body growing warm. She nipped at his lower lip, nibbling rather than biting, sending shocks through his body. “Wrists, please.”

Vivian moved to the table. Tom’s arms shot out. She grabbed the leather cuffs and put them on. Tom jerked back his arms.

“What are those?” His brows furrowed.

“Cuffs. Wrists.” Her tone sharp. Tom hesitated, his mouth opening to protest. “Sunshine, wrists.” she snapped.

“Yes, ma’am.” He reluctantly held out his wrists. She tightened the cuffs, making sure they wouldn’t chafe.

Tom twisted his wrists back and forth, testing out the weight and listening to the rings thudding against the thick leather. Vivian kissed him again, hands sliding down his torso. His cock jumped. She grabbed the back of his neck and led him towards the bedroom. Tom gulped at the blindfold and straps.

“Ah…” he started before being cut off by Vivian’s lips on his neck. “Oh!” he moaned. She laved and sucked hard, removing her lips with a pop, satisfied at the dark mark already formed.

“On the bed, sunshine. On your back.” Tom scrambled onto the bed, lying flat on his back. As Vivian slipped the cuffs on Tom’s ankles, he jerked back. She raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

She slipped her shoes off and then hooked his ankle cuffs to the straps in the middle of the bed. As Vivian strolled to the head of the bed, she ran a nail up Tom’s leg. He jerked against the restraints. She grabbed his arm and clipped it onto the strap before crawling onto the bed, reaching over to clip in the other side, her breasts grazing Tom’s body. His hips bucked.

“So squirmy, sunshine. Best I did tie you up.” Vivian straddled his chest, pushing him into the mattress. “I can’t let you get away just yet.” She pressed against his lips softly, earning a sigh. Her teeth worried his lower lip.

“Ow.” he mock protested.

Nevertheless, Vivian let go of his lip and trailed down his neck. She licked the bruise from earlier before moving down to his collarbone. Vivian sucked and nipped, leaving the twin to the neck’s bruise there. She smiled at her handiwork. Tom struggled against the restraints.

“They have held stronger men than you, sunshine.” Vivian dragged her nails down his sides, leaving faint lines. As she settled by his hips, Tom’s cock pressed against her. Tom huffed and puffed as she kissed his Adonis belt, scraping her teeth along his skin from time to time. Her hands stroked along his thighs and he flexed under her touch.

She slid off of Tom’s body, and he whined at the lack of contact. Vivian rolled back on top of Tom, lying along his full body like a blanket. Tom sighed at the weight and contact. She pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to his heart race. She snaked a hand to the back of his head and jerked his head sideways before kissing him. Tom met her lips with hunger and he whimpered each time she pulled away, only to tug him towards her again. He strained against the restraints, desperate to touch her, to pull her tight against him and rut against her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, needy, exploring every inch. He moaned as Vivian’s grip tightened on his hair, hurting, but he wanted more.

Vivian could sense Tom coming close to overheating, making a mess and complicating the hell out of this. His cock strained, hard and weeping. She pulled away, holding his lower lip between her teeth as long as possible, stretching it.

“Ow.” Tom muttered.

Vivian slid down to press against Tom’s side. She cupped her cheek before gently kissing behind Tom’s ear. Tom moaned softly from the back of his throat. Her fingers twisted into his hair and she massaged his scalp. Tom’s shoulders relaxed and his hands loosened from the fists. As she scratched and petted him, he leaned into her touch, his breath slowing to a deep and even pace. He closed his eyes, enjoying the soft touch.

“You are so beautiful, my sunshine.” She cooed at him. Her other finger tracing his jaw and cheekbone. “So pretty.” She kissed his cheek and stroked his chest.

“Thank you, ma’am.” His voice breathy and floaty.

Vivian reached over and unhooked Tom’s wrist. She turned and unhooked his other wrist. Tom didn’t move. She stood to unhook his ankles.

“Legs up, please.” Tom lifted his legs into the air. Vivian undid the cuffs, rubbing the skin and massaging it. She kissed the top of his feet and Tom giggled and squirmed. “You weren’t joking about being ticklish.”

“No, ma’am.” He slowly floated back to reality.

“Sit up, please.” Tom rocked up, his hair a rumpled mess, and held out his wrists. Vivian smoothed out his hair and held the back of his neck while she kissed his cheek and lips a few more times. She released him and unbuckled the wrist cuffs, rubbing his wrists and kissing each one and placed them on the nightstand and grabbed the water bottle, handing it to Tom.

“Thank you.” He opened the bottle and took a large swig. Vivian smoothed his hair back one more time.

“Let’s go get dressed, sunshine.” He sighed, taking another swig of water before standing. Vivian slipped her wedges back on and walked beside Tom, rubbing his neck the entire time. “I was a bit rough on you. Are you okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice quiet while he grabbed his jeans and tugged them on before pulling on his shirt, tucking it and zipping up.

“How did it feel? I imagine you are used to being treated with kid gloves.”

Tom pulled on his socks and shoes, working on finding the right words.

“I don’t quite know how it felt.” Tom replied, a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “But I know I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t mind the pain. I wanted to touch you and make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

Vivian smiled and pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight. “Sunshine, I feel good. I received great pleasure at teasing you.” She kissed him. “With my mouth. And watching you squirm and hearing you purr.” She petted the back of his head. “But I appreciate your desire to please me physically. And you will when the time comes.”

Tom stared at her with his endless blue eyes. “When will that be, ma’am?”

“When you’re ready, Sunshine.” She kissed his cheek. “You still haven’t finished your homework first.”

Tom’s hands fidgeted, twisting in front of him. “I finished all the books. I plan on starting the essay tomorrow.” He stared at the floor. “I want it to be perfect.”

“As long as it is from your heart it will be, my sunshine boy.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I don’t ask for perfection, just effort.”

Tom nodded and squeezed her hand back. “Yes, ma’am.”

She walked him to the door, kissing him one more time. “Call me in the morning when you wake up.”

Tom nodded. “Thank you for tonight.”

“You are welcome. The pleasure was mine.”

Tom smiled and kissed Vivian’s cheek and headed out. She clicked the door shut and set about cleaning up the place. Tom came home and ate a sandwich before turning in early that evening, his brain still fuzzy.

As requested, Tom called in the morning, still in bed, to check in with Vivian. It pleased her that outside of the marks on his neck and collarbone, Tom was no worse for wear. Tom left out the part of the dreams he had or the fact he woke up with a raging hard on which Tom took care of in the shower, skipping his run for thirty minutes on his long neglected rowing machine.

Tom lazed about for most of the morning, having something akin to a hangover without the benefit of being drunk beforehand. As he sat down at this computer to start his essay for Vivian, there was a knock on the door. He groaned as he trudged to see who would dare disturb his lazy Sunday.

A smiling Benedict greeted him at the door. When he saw Tom in workout gear, he frowned.

“You’re not dressed!” he complained.

“For what?” Tom blinked back at him. He didn’t recall making plans.

“Lunch!” Benedict stepped in the foyer. “We made plans weeks ago. I’ll wait for you to change.”

Tom was ready to protest, but Ben crossed his arms and it was clear he wasn’t leaving without Tom. With a huff, Tom discarded his clothes into the bedroom which now had a small pile of discarded and dirty clothes, and grabbed an old gray v neck t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Shoving his feet into a pair of boots, Tom stomped back to Ben, pushing past him.

“Let’s go.” Tom grumbled.

Tom’s mood improved once he ordered some food and got half a pint into his system. Benedict stared at him, squinting.

“What?” Tom asked, still irritated.

“What is that on your neck?” He pointed at Tom’s neck. Tom twisted it, and then Ben spied the second mark on his collarbone. “And your chest? Were you attacked?”

Tom touched his collarbone and remembered. He blushed. “It’s nothing. Forget it.” He gulped down the other half of his pint and stood. “Let me go get another round.”

Benedict held out his arm to stop Tom. “It’s like you were bitten by someth… Oh… OH!” The lightbulb went off. “Things going well with Vivian?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes.” He sidestepped Ben’s arm and grabbed another pint before returning to the table.

“Care to share?” He prodded.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Moving on.” Tom grew more homicidal by the second.

Benedict clapped his hands together. “Remember how Sophie wrangled me into serving on the children’s hospital charity board?”

“Yes.” Tom saw the Cheshire Cat grin on Ben’s face. “No. No! I went last year and got cornered by that old lady who kept calling me ‘Henry’.”

“It was endearing.”

“It was ridiculous.”

“There’s an open bar.”

“Hard pass.”

“I have two tickets. You can bring Vivian.”

Tom stared at his friend. “I am not introducing you to Vivian.”

“Why not?”

“Because I like her and I’m afraid you will scare her off.”

Benedict scoffed. “I have never…” He clutched his chest in dramatic fashion. “… never scared anyone off.”

“Alice, Catherine, Eva…” Tom counted off on his fingers. “… I can go on.”

“None of them met my high standards. Please come.” he begged. “Sophie will kill me if you don’t come.”

“The thought of your death is tempting.”

The waiter set the food down.

“Tom…” Benedict dropped all pretense. “… please come. I promise I will be on my best behavior.”

Tom’s head dropped. “Give me the details. I will check with Vivian tonight when I call her.”

Benedict’s lips pursed. “Really? I can’t wait to meet her. Especially someone who leaves marks like that on you. Sounds like she is yours for the taking.”

“Yeah.” Tom mumbled as he took a bite of his food.

Tom called her at 9 p.m. like always.

“Sunshine, how was your Sunday?” she asked.

“Speaking of that…” Tom started, and she noticed the nerves in his voice. “What are you doing next Friday evening?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I believe I’m free. Do you have any ideas?”

Tom exhaled sharply. “I’ve been invited to a charity event by Benedict and I have two tickets, and I was wondering if you would like to come with me.” He blurted it all out in one big run-on sentence.

Vivian paused before laughing. “Wow, you were really nervous about that, weren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. Everything is still so new and I don’t… I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You are just the sweetest, sunshine. You know that right? Beautiful and sweet. Yes, I will go with you.”

Tom beamed. “How would everything work?”

“Like any date would. We go, we drink, we dance and mingle.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, darling. We can set some rules that work for both of us. okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, read to me please.”

Tom grabbed the book.

Tom and Vivian agreed he would pick out three outfit options, but Vivian would come over ahead of time and make the final choice. They would not use pet names and instead would do what is natural. Tom asked that she still rub the back of his neck.

“It calms me down.” he commented.

“Of course, sunshine. I like when you are calm. You are more attentive that way.”

It was now the day of the event and Vivian sat on Tom’s bed, noticing the clutter. Tom was modeling the second outfit.

“I don’t like the tie. Let’s see the last one.”

Tom undid the tie and shirt and grabbed the last option. It was a double-breasted blue pinstripe suit with a blue shirt and navy tie. He did a little spin.

“That one.” Vivian stood and straightened his tie and petted his neck before squeezing his ass. “Your ass looks amazing in those trousers.”

Tom blushed again. “Thank you, ma’am.”

She kissed his cheek, wiping away her gloss. “Remember, no names, now let’s go.”

Tom was more at ease with Vivian by his side. Her reassuring touch at the back of his neck or even his shoulder grounded him. Not to mention, she dazzled everyone she met. Now for the big test.

“Benedict, Sophie, meet Vivian Swann. Vivian meet Benedict Cumberbatch, notorious troublemaker, and his queen of a wife, Sophie Hunter.”

Vivian shook each of their hands, holding tight to Tom’s but leaning in for a kiss on the cheek by Ben. Tom tightened his grip. She suppressed a giggle.

“Charmed. Thank you so much for inviting me. I have been looking into getting the firm involved in more charity work and the children’s ward is an enticing option.”

“Firm?” Sophie questioned.

“Watkins, Price, and Forbes. I work in their corporate law division.”

Benedict let loose a low whistle.

“Tom, you didn’t tell me you were dating a pit bull.” Sophie commented. “Impressive.”

Vivian smiled. “I prefer the term ‘velvet hammer’ but pit bull works. “

“How did you and Tom meet?” Ben interjected.

Tom paled, but Vivian didn’t miss a beat.

“The Bloomsbury Club. We bonded over a shared loved for Macallan 18-year-old aged whisky.”

Tom cleared his throat. “Right. Why don’t we take a seat?” He gestured at their reserved table.

“Your feet must be killing you in those shoes, Vivian. After having kids, I just can’t stand wearing them, but if I want to see eye to eye with this one.” She gestured at Benedict.

“Guilty.” He shrugged. “Although not as tall as the Frost Giant over there.”

Tom paused as he pulled out Vivian’s chair for her.

“I don’t mind the heels.” Vivian responded. “It is all what you get used to. Besides, I enjoy towering over people.” she giggled.

“Champagne?” the waiter offered.

“No, it makes her sneeze.” Tom commented.

“Get me a glass of white wine, please?” Vivian gazed up at him.

Tom smiled down and kissed her cheek. “Yes, of course, darling.”

“Sophie?”

Benedict and Sophie blinked at the two of them.

“Uh… yes a white wine sounds fantastic. Thank you, Tom.”

Tom nodded and headed off to the bar. Sophie elbowed Benedict in the ribs. He shuffled to his feet.

“Tom, let me help you with that!” He called after his friend.

Sophie waited until both men were out of earshot.

“How did you… I don’t want to know. You’re not like Tom’s other girlfriends, Miss Vivian Swann.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure if that is a compliment or an insult. So I will say thank you.”

“Definitely a compliment. There is something different about Tom when he is around you. He seems…”

“… happy?”

“Yes, but the word is content.” Sophie added. “Content, at peace. After that last nasty breakup, the man could use a little peace and quiet.”

“Hopefully not too quiet.” Vivian smirked.

“Are you two gossiping about us?” Benedict teased.

“I was just telling Vivian how happy and content our dear Thomas looks with her.” Sophie quipped.

Tom blushed as Vivian smiled and reached out to rub his neck. “I am. Thank you for noticing Sophie.”

The evening wound down. Tom for once enjoyed the event. Vivian won over Benedict and Sophie, so much so that Sophie invited her to go shopping tomorrow afternoon while she wrangled Benedict and Tom in tearing down a shed in Ben’s yard.

“Leave them to grunt work while we shop.”

“I would love to.” Vivian sipped at her wine.

The two couples said goodbye while waiting for the valet. Benedict hugged Vivian tight and kissed her cheek. While Sophie and her exchanged numbers. Benedict pulled Tom to the side.

“There’s something different about you, man.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m still me.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“No,” Ben folded his hands in front of his face. “there is definitely a change. And I think it has something to do with that enchanting woman over there, who I am sure is being tortured with baby pictures by my wife.”

“Perhaps.” Tom replied cryptically.

“Don’t fuck it up man. You will never find another girl…”

“Woman.” he corrected his friend.

“… Woman like her. You deserved a little happiness.”

“Tom?” Vivian placed her hand on his back. “The car’s here.”

“Of course. Ben.” He shook his friend’s hand and then hugged Sophie before opening the door for Vivian and then getting in and driving off.

“I’m going to head home.” Vivian stated when they got back to Tom’s home.

“Okay. I had a lot of fun tonight. It wasn’t nearly as dreadful with you there.”

“Your friends are a delight. They really do want the best for you, sunshine.”

Tom smiled at the name. “Yes, ma’am.” He fell back into the old pattern.

She grabbed the back of his head and tugged him into a kiss. Tom wrapped his arms around her and did his best to hold her tight. She pulled away, and he whined.

“I’m ready to take this to the next step, Vivian. I want to please you.” His hands ghosted over his shoulders. “In all ways.”

She smiled. “Send me the essay and we will talk. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“I will send it as soon as I step inside. I could cook you lunch here.”

“I would like that, sunshine.” She kissed him one more time. “Sleep well.”

“Yes, ma’am. You too.”

She smiled and walked to her car to head home. Tom stepped inside and rushed to his computer. He did a quick spell check on the essay he had been tweaking over the last week and clicked send.

“There.”

Vivian laughed as her phone beeped before she even left Tom’s driveway, knowing it was Tom’s homework.

“So eager. I like that.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston smut #hiddlesfic #tom hiddleston series #follow my lead

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help-i-need-a-cool-username · 4 years ago

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Saw V8 C11

Omg i cant believe they still believed in him

"I used to wear this rank with pride, but now i see it for what it really is: a collar" AHHHHHHHH THATS SO POWERFUL WITHOUT HIM BEING A DOG FAUNAS AND THAT DOUBLES IT

Winter tackling Marrow to the ground and then deeping her voice to say shes taking him to the cells COULD NOT BE MORE STAGED im so happy

Really wanted like a close up of Winter releasing Marrow's bonds and him realizing that shes faking it but not knowing why

While im here are all Atlas uniforms sewed with magnets??? Like Winter just attached Fetch to her back no problem and she doesnt carry her weapon like that so? Like we know Blake wears a magnet backpack (how do Qrow's and Ruby's stay on tho? A belt is not strong enough)

Ruby's run was SO EMBARRASSING i accidentally watched it twice bc i rewinded to get a screenshot of Emerald for art refs

Did the Nora reunion go how i wanted? No. BUT IM STILL SO HAPPY. Ren acknowledging his failings and talking to them as a team and referring to them as a team IS MORE THAN MOST SHOWS WOULD GIVE ME and most would not of had Jaune there AND HE WAS

ALSO MOST SHOWS WOULD NOT ALLOW FOR THE INDIVIDUAL DEVELOPMENT NORA ASKED OF

Not to over use caps bc this whole post is caps but FOREHEAD TOUCH FOREHEAD TOUCH FOREHEAD TOUCH

When people dont kiss it makes the scene stronger in my opinion. Idk kissing just feels like it dismisses everything or its like a shortcut to repairing relationships

Robyn reeling Qrow in YES THANK YOU

We havent seen much of her personally and im a bit excited bc theres so much fanfic of her and Qrow being like a duo but honestly we dont know much of her besides: hates lying, obsessed with the rich-poor divide, is caring enough to make horrible jokes to a sad stranger

YOU KNOW ITS WINTER AND MARROW IN THAT ELEVATOR

Actually what if its the Ace Ops ohhhhh

Watch it be Ironwood and all of Robyn's work is null

At first i saw Ruby hugging the banister and thought that was so unrealistic but then i remember me hiding out on the stairs with my forehead pushed into the hole between the bars and i took that statement back

THATS WHAT A RISK IS RUBY. ITS WHAT YOU LOSE WHEN YOU DONT WIN.

"thats what happened to Mom" *Yang proceeds to start bawling* YES

She wiped her face with her metal hand

1) Yang hugging Ruby was not something i knew i needed 2) YANG'S HAIR SQUISHED!! I hate hugs on this show bc the models are hard while bodies are soft and it makes hugs look awkward BUT NO this time it looked like Yang's body squished a bit and her hair smushed (i am aware it was prob a illusion of her jacket added with rounded shoulders and that her hair was moved behind her bc it has individual sections that can move because she has more "bangs" than the others but still)

PENNY

"Ruby stop me" NO

Ok everyone trying to hold her down was so sad but a really cool visual

I had NO IDEA that was Emerald's weapons and thought it had to of been like Willow or Klein having a secret weapon

So Jaune can really Aura Amp without touching them he just chooses to usually

"Kill me. Kill me" NO NO NO

Nora really was like "we've been through this Penny"

"Jaune! Boost her aura!" "You have a soul Penny, you're not a machine" *hand holding* *everyone hugging* MY HEART OKAY

Jaune held her hands for like a second did anyone else see that?? But Nora squeezing her hand while hugging her with the side of her body was so cute

Side hugs are great AND SO UNDERRATED i cant believe we got 3 this ep

Everyone sitting on the ground together was like a cinematic and metaphorical thing i know but IM JUST HAPPY THEYRE ALL HUGGING

Emerald ive never liked you but im starting to love your character

OZPIN APOLOGIZED

I love how its always Oscar reminding him of things

NEO VS CINDER NEO VS CINDER

I know its not happening bc Cinder is persuasive but i can dream

But seriously what is Watts doing

ALL-IN-ALL i loved this episode. Its was emotionally heavy instead of action heavy but it still felt heavy you know? Anyways i love it when characters are touchy-feely and this ep delivered

#hinacu rwby #rwby #renora #marrow amin #penny polendina #yang xiao long #ruby rose #nora valkyrie #jaune arc #i talked about them enough they deserved to be tagged

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

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Broken Like Me: The Party

Summary: Dean and the reader attend his agency’s annual party where they run into a not so friendly face...

Masterlist

Pairing: Model!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, small fight

A/N: Enjoy!...

_____

“Wow,” said Dean as you stepped out of the hotel bathroom. “Wow, sweetheart.”

“Is it bad?” you asked. He shook his head and stepped over with a big smile.

“It’s amazing. You look beautiful and hot and sexy and I just want to take that dress right off of you,” he chuckled.

“Considering the amount of time Carla spent finding this for me, I think she’d kill you,” you said. “How’s my back look?”

“As beautiful as the rest of you,” he said, touching a hand to your bare skin. It was an open back dress and far more risqué than you had any right to be wearing. Dean trailed his fingers over the faded scars covering the skin there. “I packed the emergency dress just in case.”

“Thank you,” you said with a smile. “But I’m okay. I love this dress and if your model friends have a problem with my scars, then fuck them.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I can’t wait to show you off.”

“Or we could skip this agency party thing and go to a nice dinner instead and then come back here and get naked?” you said.

“That is incredibly tempting but we flew all the way out here for Carla,” he said.

“I know,” you sighed.

“It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Y/N, is that you?” said Carla when you got to the party. “Dean must be drooling.”

“Yes, he is,” you laughed, getting a hug from her, Dean getting his own.

“How you doing babe? Getting along with your parents? That goes for both of you,” she said.

“Yes, mom,” teased Dean. “It’s been pretty good. Y/N’s parents gave her her trust fund back. With interest.”

“To which we promptly decided to leave it be for kids and future weddings and all that stuff. Dean and I have plenty between our jobs,” you said.

“Well I’ve never worried about you two and money. So you’re doing better with your parents still?” asked Carla.

“Yeah. It’s a little awkward sometimes still. They grovel a little bit,” you said.

“They’re trying their best,” said Dean. “Excuse me ladies, I think I see a friend over there.”

“How’s he and his dad really doing? It’s like pulling teeth sometimes,” she said.

“John is going to Dr. Bram every other week,” you said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. John’s got a whole bunch of crap he’s gone through apparently. He’s still not a fan of going but he does it for Dean,” you said.

“It sounds like things are calming down for you two finally,” she said.

“Hopefully. We could do with some quiet,” you said.

“I take it you haven’t started wedding planning yet then,” she teased.

“My mom is looking at professional planners for us so that’s a joy,” you said.

“Want me to say anything?” she asked.

“No mom,” you laughed. “I’ll calm her down if she gets too wound up. Dean and I love each other. There’s no need to rush into a wedding.”

“A wedding is honestly just another day in your relationship, sweetie. It’s a very happy day where you celebrate your love for each other with friends and family. But in the end, it’s a day. You love him and the babe is head over heels in love with you. You’re young. Take the time to make it what you want it to be,” she said.

“Do you think I’ll ever get to the point where my mom would say something like that?” you asked.

“I think so. Dean and his father...I thought about coming to pay John a visit more than once and give him a piece of my mind. But now, they seem to be healing that relationship. I’m sure if you’re patient with them, you’ll get there.”

“I hope so,” you said.

“Well when I met you, you never would have been caught dead in a dress like that,” she said. “I think you got this.”

“Well the scars on my face and arms and chest are gone,” you said.

“Your back is actually not what I was expecting,” she said.

“I got a better scar cream,” you smiled. “A whole lot cheaper than laser surgery.”

“Dean ever offer to pay? He can plenty afford it,” she said.

“He brings it up now and again. He makes so much he doesn’t need. He just puts it out there that he would help if I choose to get rid of the rest,” you said. “A majority of the time though, the only person who ever seems them is Dean though so it doesn’t matter. I tell him to put the money towards something he wants.”

“Looks like what he wants right now is you to come save him,” she said, Dean looking like he was pleading with you to get over there. You walked over with a smile, Dean easing a little as you stopped at his side.

“So is this the farm girl that you gave up Calvin Klein for?” said a guy in a white suit, the other guy with them walking away.

“Down girl,” said Dean when you opened your mouth. “This is Kyle.”

“I think she was ready to tear my throat out,” laughed Kyle. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Dean doesn’t speak kindly of many of his model friends. But Kyle Kendricks is always okay with me,” you said.

“I told you I’d win her over,” said Kyle.

“Yeah well you’re a loser so it’s not too hard,” chuckled Dean.

“I don’t think those pictures Dean posts of you did you justice, Y/N,” he said.

“Always a suck up,” you said. “Hey, how’d that shoot for the baby food go?”

“Didn’t happen. Super weird. I was ready to sign the contract and everything and apparently the owners themselves said they got somebody else in mind,” he said.

“Was it Gerber?” asked Dean.

“Nah, the other one,” he said. “I don’t have the new dad look they were going for.”

“Considering you do alcohol commercials, probably not,” teased Dean.

“You been keeping him out of trouble lately?” asked Kyle.

“I do my best...unless of course I’m the one causing it.”

“You should come visit us sometime. We got great barbecue,” said Dean.

“I’m on a diet,” grumbled Kyle.

“Why?” you asked.

“Calvin Kline contract is going up soon. Michael Reyburn is apparently more trouble than he’s worth,” said Kyle. Dean nodded and Kyle gave him a smile. “Dude I know it was your gig and-“

“I had it for all of five seconds,” he said. “It’s a lot of money if you can swing it. Just be careful bud.”

“Maybe I’ll stick with beer,” he said, getting a tap on the shoulder from a man. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“The way you described him you would think the man has a pocket protector and grandpa pants,” you said.

“Kyle’s a nerd. We always stuck together. That other guy was Jack Bilson. He’s besties with Reyburn so-“

“Also a dick. Good to know,” you said. “So how long do we have to be here?”

“An hour tops. I promise.”

“Well hello,” said a deep voice. You spun around from where you were eating a tiny piece of lobster on a cracker, the man chuckling at you. “That is a hell of a dress.”

“Thanks,” you said, your mouth full.

“You’re Dean Winchester’s charity case, right? Or maybe he’s yours.”

“I can see why they’re going with another model, Michael. Must be pretty hard to fill out those shorts with what you’re packing,” you said, getting a few laughs out of people close by.

“Sweetie you ought to see what a real man is like.”

“Then why the hell am I talking to you?”

“Never been with someone who looks like they beat a lawnmower in a fight,” he said. You smiled and glanced down, grabbing another snack and popping it in your mouth. “Do you ever stop eating?”

“Michael. Try therapy for why ever it is you’re so angry and leave me and Dean the Hell alone,” you said.

“Said the freak show,” he said.

“Reyburn,” said Dean as he came over, stepping in front of you.

“Oh look, fatty’s here,” he said. Dean clenched his fist and you stood between them.

“Kindly apologize and leave,” you said.

He started to laugh and you got in his face.

“I literally pulled myself from a burning car only to then find myself bleeding out on the side of the road. You know what you do when that happens, Michael? You make a decision and I made the decision to shove my own fingers inside my rib cage to squeeze an artery shut. Do you know how much that hurts, Michael? Do you know what it’s like to sit there, putting yourself in excruciating pain just so you have a chance at living? No. No you don’t. I am very good at dealing with shit and that includes you. Now apologize, please, and stay away from him. Or else.”

“I see who wears the pants in the relationship,” said Kyle.

“I see who isn’t in a relationship,” you said. Michael narrowed his eyes and stormed off. You ate another cracker, turning to Dean. “This is so good. You got to try it.”

“You never talk about your accident,” he said.

“Because I don’t remember half of it,” you said. “Come on. He’s a douchebag. I want to go dance with my very handsome fiancé.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“I am so glad to be out of there,” you said when you were back in the hotel room.

“Remind me not to accept next year,” he said, shrugging out of his suit jacket and heading straight into the bathroom.

“You alright?” you called as you stepped out of your heels. You didn’t hear anything and undressed, walking into the bathroom naked and taking your hair out of its bun. “Mr. Winchester…”

“What?” he said grumpily before he spun around.

“What’s wrong, De?” you asked. He looked you over and rested his hand on your right side, tracing over the long scar there.

“You’re beautiful and I can’t defend you because I’m...this,” he said, glancing down at his body.

“I don’t need a man to defend me. He was bullying me and my best friend. I will always stand up for us,” you said. “My handsome and healthy soon to be husband.”

“Why would you even want me?” he asked.

“Because I love you,” you hummed, giving him a smile. He rolled his eyes and turned away.

“I’m gonna shower. You mind?” he asked.

“Alright,” you sighed. You left and went back to the bedroom, changing into a pair of shorts and one of his shirts. You flipped through the room service menu and ordered some fries and a brownie, listening for Dean to be done with his shower.

When it was still going by the time the food got there though, you went back in.

“Dean. I ordered a late night snack if you want some,” you said.

“I’m not hungry, sweetheart,” he said. You sighed and opened up the steamed up shower door. “What the hell?”

“It has been an hour. You never take showers this long unless you’re upset,” you said.

“I’m not upset,” he said. You stared at him and he groaned, turning off the water. He brushed past you for his towel and you rolled your eyes, going back to the room and nibbling at the food. He didn’t say anything as he came in a minute later, taking his clothes with him to the bathroom to change.

“Since when are we shy in front of each other?” you asked. Dean shook his head and went over to his suitcase, folding his suit nicely. “Silent treatment, very mature.”

“What is your problem? I want to be left alone,” he said, shoving the suit down.

“Tough shit,” you said as you knelt up on the bed. “I care about you and right now, I get the feeling I care a hell of a lot more about you than you do yourself so until further notice, I’m in charge.”

“You’re in charge? Of what?” he scoffed.

“Get in the bed.”

“Make me.”

You stared at him, Dean crossing his arms. You stood up and walked over to him, getting in his face.

“You gonna push me?”

“If you don’t want to talk then at the very least you can indulge me and go lay down on the damn bed,” you said.

He glanced down and went back to his suit, fixing it before he went to a side of the bed and sat down. You went right next to him, Dean stiff until you shifted behind him, wrapping your legs and arms around him.

“What are you doing?”

“Hugging you,” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“Do you remember that night I missed our date? I went to Dr. Bram’s and was a complete mess?” he asked.

“I remember you had a bad night,” you said. He put one of his hands over yours and held onto your arms.

“Part of that night was because of the model that got the contract after me. Reyburn. He made some nasty comments. I thought I was over it but apparently not,” he said.

“Dean. Yes, Michael Reyburn is a physically fit person and yes he is physically attractive. He’s also a horribly ugly person. He’s disgusting and mean. You on the other hand are the kind of person that made someone like me, someone so beaten down from a lifetime of crap, feel happy and beautiful and loved. You’re the most attractive person I’ll ever meet, Dean. The way you look on the outside, everything else, that’s just a bonus, De.”

He looked over his shoulder at you, peeling your arms away so he could turn and kiss you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“S’okay,” you said. You ran your fingers through his short strands, Dean curling into the touch. “They had cheese fries. I got them just for you.”

“I really should watch what I eat,” he said.

“You had a salad for lunch and we skipped dinner. I say it’s okay, Dean,” you said. “It’s got bacon-“

“That should have been your opener, sweetheart,” he chuckled. You gave him another kiss and hug before you let him go to the table and bring over the food. “I’m sorry Michael was such a pig to you.”

“Well he sounds like he has his own issues to work out,” you said. “Forget him. I also had a great idea while you were in the shower.”

“What’s that?”

“Instead of flying home, want to do a road trip? Hit up some of those places you see on the food channel on our way back?” you asked.

“So no flight and awesome food? I’m sold,” he said. “What about work?”

“I have a lot of unused vacation time. It’ll be fun. We’ve both been busy lately,” you said. “What do you say?”

“I say I’m going to marry a little genius,” he said. He kissed your nose and started to eat, the two of you quiet for a while, your head leaning on his shoulder when you finished. “Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

______

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au #model!dean x reader #timestamp

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cagestark · 5 years ago

Note

Ok here's my prompt: college winterironspider, established winterspider and they want to do a trio costume with Tony as a way to show him they want him 💕💕

A late Halloween Prompt whipped up in thanks for boosting my friend’s rpg. Thank you! (Also you all say that Halloween is a 365 day event so 3 days late shouldn’t stop you right? ;)

Warnings: homophobia including slurs, some mention of smuttiness but nothing explicit, foul language. WinterIronSpider. 3.6k.

Tony flings open the dorm room door, already toeing off his sodden shoes. New England weather could turn on dime, and it had a habit of turning unfavorable on the 15 minute trek from the Chem labs back to his dorm room. His shirt is sticking to his skin, jeans heavy with rain. He can feel his hair, getting just this side of too long for how Howard likes it, dripping down the back of his neck.

Mother Nature hates him, and she’s not the only one, because Peter Parker is lounging on Tony’s roommate’s bed. Bucky is nowhere in sight, but the bathroom door is closed, so deductive reasoning is barely required. They’ve probably been fucking; the room has that musty scent that makes him twitch in his wet pants. Parker lays among the mussed sheets and blankets like the pillow princess he must be, curls riotous, beaming at the sight of Tony.

“Hey, Tony,” says Parker in the softest, cracking voice that Tony’s ever heard come from a nineteen-year-old. He blinks dazed, whiskey-colored eyes. “Y’re all wet.”

“I know. Where’s Barnes?”

“Bathroom.”

Tony hums. Barnes liked to take ridiculously long showers, conditioning his ridiculously long hair, moisturizing his ridiculously huge and attractive body. The guy was the antithesis to his boyfriend, large where Parker was small, dark where he was light, brooding where Parker was a goddamn ray of sunshine sneaking in through a crack in the curtains and blinding Tony. With Barnes in the shower, Tony is stuck shivering in his wet clothes, wishing he’d stayed out in the downpour and smoked a cigarette. Instead, he just sits on his bed—his sheets have seen worse than some rainwater. Opening up his bookbag, he sees that his textbooks are unscathed. Thank fucking God.

All the time, he feels Parker’s eyes on him. The kid is too pretty for his own good—both he and his boyfriend. When he came to MIT, he had envisioned dozens of nightmare scenarios regarding roommates. Maybe they’d steal his clothes, eat his food, leave their hair in the drain. Instead, he’d gotten a goddamn Calvin Klein model and his twink. Sometimes, Tony had to lay awake facing the wall on his side of the dorm room, pretending he didn’t hear the breathy giggles and dirty, foul whispers as the two fooled around while their roommate was ‘sleeping’. It left him unbearably hard, determined not to rut into the mattress lest they find out that he was still awake (and stop, God, please don’t stop—).

It was all very, very fucked up: how much Tony liked them; how much it made him hate them.

“You’re gonna catch pneumonia,” Parker says.

“What do you want me to do about it, kid?” Tony asks. He’s only three years older than Parker, but the kid seems so young—the enthusiasm, the naivete, the buoyancy. Tony can’t help but call him kid.

Parker raises his eyebrows. “It’s your room. Take off your clothes.”

Tony stops where he’s flipping through his textbook. He lets it fall closed with a thud, assessing Parker’s gaze. He looks innocent enough, maybe a little sleepy, but he wasn’t dumb by any means (a full ride to MIT proved that). Surely he had to know how that sounded, for him to tell his boyfriend’s roommate to undress in front of him.

“In front of you, Parker? I’ll take the pneumonia.”

The kid just grins, shaking his head. “Whatever. Are you going to the Halloween Party at Delta Psi?”

“Everybody is going to the Halloween Party at Delta Psi,” Tony answers flatly.

“Are you going to wear a costume?”

“Fuck no.”

“Because you have no idea what to wear, right.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “You’re a shit, Parker. So, what if I don’t? I’m an engineer; what do I need to dress up for?”

“I’m dressing Bucky; I could dress you too.”

“Yeah,” Tony snarks. “That’s just what I want.”

The bathroom door opens. Bucky appears in nothing but a towel around his hips. His abs violate state and federal laws—or at least if they don’t, they should. His hair is wet and up in a bun. Eyes like the ocean iced over drag up and down Tony’s body, making him feel heated despite the goosebumps on his skin. Tony is keenly aware of how his nipples have hardened, somewhere between the icy downpour and the sight of Parker looking fucked out on the twin-sized bed.

“Took you long enough,” Tony mutters. He grabs some clothes from the drawer and disappears into the bathroom, cranking the shower (and the drain is spotless because Barnes is a fucking good guy who cleans up after himself, the asshole) up to hellish proportions and peeling his wet clothes from his body. On the other side of the door are warm voices that are easy enough to tune out, or to tune into when he’s standing under the burning spray with a hand on his cock.

When he gets out of the shower, Parker is gone back to his own dorm. Bucky is eating a bowl of cereal, still shirtless. The words come out of Tony’s mouth before he can stop them: “Barnes, I think your boyfriend hit on me when you were in the shower. I just thought you might want to know that.”

Barnes stops chewing. He’s got the best poker face Tony has ever seen, no hint of anger or jealousy or surprise. His jaw closes again with an obscene, sugary crunch. After he swallows, he says, “Thanks, Tony. You’re a good friend.”

The first package arrives two days later. It’s for Tony, with no return address. He rolls his eyes—that’s just like his mother to be so dramatic as to not even say she’s sending him anything nor leave her mark. When he opens it though, there are no deliciously baked treats, no heartfelt (maybe a little distant) cards with carefully crafted handwriting, no trinkets that are hideous which he will be forced to cherish. Instead, it’s the ugliest pair of pants he’s ever seen: straight-legged and a size too big for him and a dirty gray.

“The fuck, mom,” Tony mutters. He tosses them aside. “Really off your game, crazy old bat.”

But when Barnes gets out of class and spots the box sitting on Tony’s desk, he points to it. “Did you get the first part of your costume?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your costume?” Bucky enunciates more, the fucking asshole, like Tony didn’t hear him the first time. “Peter told me that you said you were cool with him getting you a costume. He gets really fucking into Halloween. I saw this picture of him up in his Aunt’s apartment in Queens—”

Tony holds up a hand. “Stop. Rewind. I in no way told Parker he could dress me up for Halloween. Period.”

Barnes just raises his eyebrows. “That’s not what Peter thinks.”

“I couldn’t care less what he thinks, I’m not some doll for him to play with.”

“Next time he’s over, you can tell him so.” The guy’s pale eyes fucking glitter—glitter—like he knows that’s not going to go over well for Tony. And maybe it won’t, maybe Tony’s going to have to break some fucking hearts, but there’s no chance in hell he’s going to be caught dead in a costume, especially not one picked by a doe-eyed little twink like Parker.

But when Parker arrives for his date with Bucky two hours later, pink-cheeked from the windy cold, he’s got another little box tucked under his arm that he thrusts into Tony’s hands.

Tony thrusts it back. “Nope. Don’t want it.”

Parker frowns, looking up at Tony with those flat brows curled in confusion. “What do you mean? It’s for your costume.”

Barnes watches everything through the reflection in the mirror he keeps by his bed. He’s currently combing his hair like a schmuck (fuck, he looks so handsome), mouth pressed into a flat line, though Tony suspects that it’s more from holding back laughter than expressing any discontent. Tony chooses a point on the wall above Parker’s head and stares at it. The kid’s got eyes like vortexes, and Tony isn’t getting sucked in, no sir, not today.

“No costume. I’m not wearing a costume.”

“Sure you are, I’ve already bought the stuff. It’s started to arrive—did you get the pants?”

“Pants? Is that what they’re called? They’re hideous—” Barnes makes a noise in the corner that has Tony throwing a fuming glare his way. “I’m not going to wear them, or anything else. So return the stuff, kid.”

Parker stares down at the small package in his hands. “I—I can’t. I had it expedited so that it would get here in time for Halloween. No returns.”

“No re—? Well, fuck. That’s not my problem. I didn’t ask you to buy me stuff for a costume. What the hell were you going to dress me up as, anyway? A corpse from the 80’s?”

When Parker looks up, his eyes are a little misty. He rubs at one with his forearm, probably scratching himself with the wool from his coat. “It was gonna be a surprise.”

And yep. There it is. That does Tony in, because as much as Tony wishes he was the no good cruel piece of shit that plenty of people around MIT and the New England area like to label him as, he’s a sucker for tears. He’s seen his mom cry too many times, it just—it gets to him.

Tony snatches the package out of the kid’s hands. He points a finger at him. “No cartoon characters. No cross-dressing. No dorky inanimate objects, like a fork or a wet floor sign. Got it? Swear to God, kid, if you embarrass me in front of the whole school, I will never forgive you.”

“Why would I want to embarrass you?” Parker asks. He holds out a pinky. “It’s not embarrassing. Promise.”

“Fuck your pinky, man. Go on your date. Get out—you too Barnes, I don’t want to see either of your faces for like, two hours or something. Swear to God. I’m at the end of my rope, do you hear me? The end of my fucking rope.”

In the box is a scarf, long and plain and red. Tony rolls his eyes and sets it with the pants.

That night when he returns from his evening class, he finds that Barnes and his boyfriend have dragged all the blankets off of Bucky’s bed and onto the floor creating the warmest, coziest looking nest Tony’s ever seen. It looks like a slice of Heaven after coming in from the brutal cold. The best spot of all looks to be somewhere in between Barnes who is sprawled on his back, one arm behind his head and the other outstretched, and Peter who lays with his head cushioned on that ridiculous bicep. The size different between the two of them makes Tony’s mouth go dry.

On the wall, a Star Wars movie plays: The Empire Strikes Back.

Parker leans his head up, blinking at the sight of Tony in the doorway. He smiles, so soft and sweet that it hurts. “Hey Tony,” he says. He pats the blanket beside him. “Want to join us? There’s room.”

Tony hasn’t the slightest idea what to make of that. Not even a little one. Doesn’t Parker know how awkward that would be? For Tony to just cuddle in a pillow fort with Barnes and his boyfriend? Doesn’t Parker know how much that would hurt—

“No, I’ve got somewhere to be,” Tony lies. He steps out the door he had just came through and shuts it behind him. The library is always open on campus, and Tony falls asleep bent over the table there, cheek pressed into a book about the latest breakthroughs in Artificial Intelligence.

The next day arrives a plain white t-shirt in a plastic bag. Begrudgingly, Tony tries it on. It clings to his chest and the gentle six-pack he sports (nothing like Barnes who spends five days a week at the on-campus gym and drinks protein shakes in the morning). Turning sideways, he eyes himself in the mirror. At least this doesn’t look bad, certainly not with the way it clings to his biceps, but he will be fucking freezing.

Barnes comes in and catches Tony checking himself out in the mirror. For a moment, Tony thinks that maybe Barnes is checking him out, too, but—

“Looks good,” Bucky purrs. Making fun of Tony, surely.

Tony flips him the bird, but the guy just laughs.

“What is he dressing you up as?” Tony asks. Purely out of curiosity. Knowing how whipped Barnes was, Peter could dress him up as anything and he’d take it. Even something embarrassing or emasculating.

Barnes just rolls his eyes. “You know him. It’s a secret.”

The comradery with which he says it, like of course Tony knows how Peter is—something about it itches at the back of Tony’s brain, a mosquito that has landed and started to suck at his blood. But it’s no surprise that Barnes and his boyfriend are weirdos who like to spend more time having ‘dates’ in their dorm room with Tony rather than at a restaurant or the movies or any fucking where else.

But, like all things that Tony doesn’t want to wonder about, he pushes to the back of his brain.

The next day, it is a denim jacket and hideous combat boots.

“Fashion homicide,” Tony mutters.

The day before Halloween brings Tony a red flannel shirt.

“Goddamnit,” he says, holding it up so Barnes can see. “What is he dressing me up as, a lesbian?”

It isn’t until he’s assembling it all in the bathroom that he puts it together—and okay. It’s not bad. Bender was easily the coolest character in the Breakfast Club, though his fashion sense was nothing like Tony’s. The layers—white shirt under flannel under denim—are a little stifling, but out in the cold fall air, it would be perfect. He even combs his hair back.

All in all, Parker could have done far, far worse.

But when he comes out of the bathroom and finds the two of them in the dorm room, he sees that Parker has done worse.

Matching costumes.

Parker is Brian through and through. He looks like a total scrub in his khakis with Nike sneakers on, the long-sleeved sweater that clings to his thin frame. A ballpoint pen is tucked behind his ear, wrist-watch circling the delicate little wrist, and to top it off, a pair of sunglasses are looped over the collar of his sweater.

And Barnes? Forgone are his goth threads. He sits on his bed wearing blue jeans that hug his broad thighs, the whitest shoes that Tony’s ever seen, and a goddamn blue wifebeater that shows off his arms, both heavily muscled. Folded on his pillow is a letterman jacket, and Tony doesn’t even like jocks, but his cock twitches at the sight, thinking of slipping it down off of Bucky’s bare shoulders.

“No—we match,” Tony says.

Peter lights up. “Yes! You got it! The Breakfast Club is a classic.”

“I should have said no matching costumes. We look like—” like boyfriends, Tony thinks, “—like queers. I’m not going out like this.”

“Watch the slurs you throw around,” Barnes says, his mouth an unhappy, flat line.

Tony winces. “I—I didn’t mean it like that. But this is taking it to a whole new level that I’m not comfortable with. Not to mention, three gays all going out in matching costumes? Isn’t that a little suggestive?”

“Suggestive of what?” Parker asks. He’s holding fingerless gloves—the last part of Tony’s costume. It’s the cherry on top. With the cigarettes that Tony plans to be chainsmoking thanks to the stress of this whole event, he’ll be method acting his character all night.

“Come on. Suggestive, suggestive. Like we’re all—” Tony mashes his hands together.

Barnes reaches out, hand flat, arm flexing nicely. He doesn’t even look at Parker and Parker doesn’t look at him, but they slap hands in a high five.

“Am I speaking in tongues? I’m not fucking leaving like this; I’m not going to have the whole campus thinking I’m your loser third wheel.” It would be too painful, when there’s a shameful part of him that would gladly be the third wheel to them, that’s desperate to be between them. This feels like the crudest parody.

“You wouldn’t be,” Peter says.

“Pete, maybe we shouldn’t do this right now,” Barnes interrupts.

“No, Bucky, this was supposed to—supposed to be cute!” Parker turns away from them, towards the wall by Tony’s bed. He drops the gloves there and crosses his arms. It would be petulant if it wasn’t so heartbroken, the curve of his shoulders, his head drooping down morosely. Instead, the kid just looks like he’s trying to hold himself together.

Tony sighs. It takes Herculean strength not to roll his eyes. “Kid. I’m sorry. Clearly this meant a lot to you. Fuck knows why, but—”

Peter turns around, eyes tearful and flashing with anger. He reaches up to his ear, fiddling with the lobe with trembling fingers. Grabbing Tony’s wrist, he puts a little diamond earing in his palm, just like Claire did with Bender.

“What’s this?” Tony says, shoulders hunching. “My ears aren’t pierced.”

“Yes they are,” Peter says through his teeth. “You probably got them pierced five or so years ago, but your dad was an asshole about it and made you take them out. It’s been ages and the holes are hard to see but they still won’t close.”

Tony blanches. He can still hear the way Howard demeaned him, spent the whole dinner talking his Tony’s mother about how ridiculous the boy looked, how it gave people ideas about him, because pierced ears are for women and the only men who have them are faggots. “How the fuck do you even know that?”

“Do you think I’m dumb?” This is the loudest Peter’s ever been, his usual fragile voice replaced by this one that is sure and angry and doesn’t crack. “One: I spend every moment that I’m not looking at Bucky looking at you. I’ve got eyes; I know what a hole in an ear looks like, thanks. Two: your dad is an asshole about everything. He’s probably the reason why you don’t drink mixed drinks, why you call us queers even though you’re bi, why you lie and say you’re going to spend the whole holiday break at home but then come back and spend it here alone in the dorm. Because your dad is an asshole.

“He’s probably the reason why you’re such a fucking dunce too. A thick skull must run in the family, because Bucky and I have been hitting on you the entire semester and even though you go into the bathroom to jerk off every time you come back to the dorm and catch us making out, you won’t make a move or, or let us make the move, and—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Tony says, his own voice rising to a shout. “You’ve been doing all this bullshit on purpose? Blowing Barnes when you know I’m awake? Skipping around here in your underwear because, what, you know it turns me on? Because you want to out me? Am I a fucking joke to you?”

“No,” Peter shouts, slapping a hand flat on Tony’s chest. “We like you, fuckface!”

The force of Peter’s tiny hand barely makes Tony sway, but the words—those might as well knock him to his knees. He feels like the scarf around his neck is on too tight, like there’s not enough air in the room. He licks his lips, his eyes moving between Peter’s red-rimmed eyes and nose (he’s an ugly crier) and Bucky who is still sitting on the twin bed watching them, his face white and afraid.

“You like me?” Tony asks. “What does that even mean? You two are together.”

“It means,” Peter says, taking Tony’s fist, coaxing open the anxious fingers to wear the diamond stud earring still rests, cutting into his palm. Peter presses his thumb against it, tenderly. “That we like you. We want you. To get to know you. You—and not your hang-ups.”

Tony shakes his head, taking his hand from Peter’s burning grip. “I—I can’t do that. My dad—”

“—is an asshole,” Bucky mutters.

Tony snorts softly. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“We don’t have to go home with you at Thanksgiving or Christmas or ever, if you don’t want,” Peter says. “We just want a chance. We want you to do something for yourself. Not your dad. Does that make sense?”

The silence lingers around the room. Somewhere in the distance, Halloween music is playing, ghoulish noises and moans and witch-like cackling. Mouth dry, Tony takes the backing off of the stud earing and reaches up, feeling for the holes in the lobes of his ears. It’s been years since he wore them, and his hands are trembling so badly that he can’t even find them—

“I’ll help you,” Peter says tenderly, taking the earring. He has it in in a moment and leans back, taking Tony in from head to toe.

“Well?” Tony asks. He clears his throat—there’s something stuck in it, some lump that he has to swallow away. He holds out his arms. “How do I look?”

“Gay,” Bucky says from the corner, smiling.

“That’s it!” Tony shouts. “I’m not going! Thanks for nothing! I’m out!”

“Tony,” Peter groans. “He was just joking, he’s—”

But Tony is already stalking to the dorm room door and pulling it open. He stops to glance over his shoulder at Bucky and Peter who are watching him with wide eyes. “Well?” he says. “I’m all for being fashionably late, but if we don’t get going, there’s not going to be anything left of the keg—”

The two scramble for their jackets and follow him out the door.

#winterironspider #tw: homophobia #tw: f slur #tw: q slur #college!winterironspider #Halloween prompt #cagewrites #longfic

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smallerinfinities · 6 years ago

Text

In His Calvins

a/n: Oh, hey. I was mad at Shawn over this photoshoot so I had to punish him. That is all. Enjoy 💜 Thanks to @pattinsonshawn for some key ideas. Love you, babe.

| Masterlist linked in bio |

warnings: hahaha this is 3.2k of fucking filthy sub!Shawn smut

“Cut! Let’s check that.”

Shawn exhaled in a gust. It was hell flexing and making it look natural, like his muscles weren’t’ screaming for release every time the director said action! He’d been shooting for Calvin Klein all afternoon and into the evening, doing fifteen push-ups between takes. The pictures were going to look incredible, it was just fact. He took pride in his body, you could tell in the casual way he carried himself, and he’d worked his fucking ass off for it. Hitting the gym almost everyday for five years had led him here, to his body on a fifty foot billboard in SoHo for everyone to see. To standing in front of a camera in nothing but a pair of white boxer briefs looking like a modern Greek god.

“Okay, Shawn. I think we have what we need,” the director called from the booth. Shawn jumped down from the platform he’d been walking on and shrugged into a big, fluffy gray robe. The oil clung to the loose fibers, making it a little sticky. He couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel and shower, maybe FaceTime if it wasn’t too late. He knew you liked to go to bed at reasonable hours and there were three time zones between the two of you. It sucked, especially on a day like today when he just wanted to tell you how amazing it all went and how good he looked.

He showered in the makeshift trailer they had on set and decided to go back to the hotel. Niall had called earlier, said something about maybe going out later, but Shawn was wiped. When he was in the big black SUV on the way, he got a text.

You: wanna talk before I go to bed?

Shawn: sure...wanna do more than talk? 😏

You: omg shut up maybe

Shawn: I can tell you all about my shoot...if you’re lucky maybe I’ll give you a sneak peek *wiggles eyebrows*

You: 🙄 call me when you’re back at the hotel

Shawn smiled down at his phone. Honestly, he’d choose facetiming with you over any overcrowded West Hollywood bar Niall could possibly take him to. He shot his friend a message begging out of plans. The car rolled up to his hotel and he quickly snuck into the lobby, narrowly avoiding being seen by the paps constantly haunting the entrance.

“Shawn?”

I know that voice. Whipping around, he stared at you in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?!” he was so surprised he couldn’t move. You took him in, white Calvin Klein tee barely containing his chest, and sighed. Getting up from the chair you’d been waiting in for an hour, you approached him slow so he could fully accept and process the fact that you were in fact real and standing in front of him.

“Not even a ‘happy to see–”

You couldn’t even get your sarcastic comment out before his lips were on yours. They were full and wet and covered in cherry flavored chapstick. God, you’d missed him. His arms came around you and enveloped you in his warmth. You ran your hands up his chest, noticing the way he gasped a little into your mouth when you grazed over his sensitive nipples, and threaded your fingers into his damp curls. He smelled like sandalwood and bergamot and boy. It was intoxicating. His tongue ran along the lower seam of your lips, begging for deeper entry but you stopped him, breathing heavy against his mouth.

“Shawn, we should go upstairs.” His head popped up and swiveled as if he’d completely forgotten that you were in full view of the public and not in the privacy of his room. He blushed hard, pink rising in his cheeks down to his jaw and disappearing into the neck of his t-shirt. You giggled behind your hand, reaching up to ruffle his curls.

“Come on, big boy, tell me about the shoot,” you grabbed his hand and made for the elevator. By the time you reached his suite, he was buzzing with energy, so excited about how the day went.

“God, babe, I wish I had some proofs or something you could see. I just felt so confident all day.” He shut the door behind him, sighing in disappointment at not being able to share it with you. Turning back toward him, you stalked over and slipped your fingers underneath his t-shirt, fingering the sparse hair under his belly button. He tensed beneath your touch, flexing his fingers to claw at his sweatpant-clad thighs, itching to touch you but afraid if he started he wouldn’t be able to stop.

A devilish idea crossed your mind when you saw an instant film camera sitting on the nearby desk, surrounded by Polaroid cartridges. He’d been playing around with cameras a lot lately, taking it as an opportunity to bond with Connor. You caught his eye, smirking, and his own widened.

“What if we have our own photoshoot, baby?” Leaving him panting, you walked over to the camera and picked it up, quickly inserting a fresh film cartridge, “you can show me all your hot moves.” You smiled all toothy at him and shook the camera in one hand, ignoring his jaw hanging somewhere on the floor. He’d been nodding since you’d called him baby.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Mendes. Time to strip.”

You’d never seen someone disrobe so fast. His sweats and sneakers were shed in a puddle on the floor, the white tee quickly following. All that was left was a very tall, very fit curly-haired boy in a pair of white Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Fuck, is he really all mine? It was astounding sometimes, the reality of him. All that skin. His abs rippled in the low light of the room. He cleared his throat.

“Uhm, babe, are you gonna use that camera?” the corner of his mouth lifted, “or are you just gonna look at me?” You shook your head to clear the fog, much to his amusement. Putting the camera down for just a moment, you evened the playing field, slipping your black skater dress up and over your head. His breath caught in his throat mid-chuckle when you revealed a matching hot pink lace bra and panty set, the demi bra hiding just enough to make his heart race.

“Now that we’re even,” you picked up the camera again, “get up on the bed and pose for me.”

Shawn blushed, that pink tint in his cheeks sending blood rushing between your legs. The ache almost doubled you over, acute and intense. He crawled up toward the pillows, situating himself in his best underwear model pose. Starting with a casual look to the side, his arms crossed over his bent knees, you snapped the first photo. The camera spit out the white square and you fanned it out like they did in the movies, barely able to rip your eyes away from him.

“Very nice, Mr. Mendes,” it developed quickly, the lower saturation evident in the lighter blue edging of his waistband, “let’s try another one.” Getting up on your knees on the edge of the bed, he looked over and spread his knees a little, widening his arms to hug the backs of the pillows. His skin glowed in the light, naturally or from a slight sheen of nervous sweat you weren’t sure. Honestly, you didn’t care.

“Look at me, baby,” Shawn followed your direction and you snapped the shutter again, barely able to keep your hands from shaking. His eyes looked black, darkened with lust, the usual light brown traded in for a dark molasses. At this point the camera was just a prop, the roleplay a farce in light of what was about to happen. You dropped the developed Polaroid and moved forward, crawling on your hands and knees toward his spread legs. He stretched out his legs to accomodate you, letting you straddle his hips, hovering just over where he wanted you most.

“One more...a smile this time,” you grinned to encourage him, lifting up the eyepiece to your face as he stretched his arms behind his head, his lips splitting into a radiant, heart-stopping smile that took your breath away. Somewhere a shutter snapped. It might have been in your hand, but you weren’t sure because it wasn’t there two seconds later.

Shawn had thrown it down the bed.

He pulled your face into his, immediately groaning into your mouth as he pushed his tongue inside. Licking into you, he played with your tongue, remembering how good you tasted. His hands were in your hair, on your waist, running up your shoulders. They were everywhere. He was everywhere. Your tongue, your nose, he filled your senses. You ran your hands down his chest and this time he gasped when you focused on his nipples. Smiling against his mouth, you trailed a line of kisses down his jaw to his neck, over his developed chest, and down to the tiny pink peaks that screamed at you through his shirts all the goddamn time.

You circled one with your nose, enjoying the feel of goosebumps that rose up in response. His breathing was ragged, a contrast to the silence in the room. He combed his fingers through your hair, an encouragement but not a command to just fucking devour him.

“Tell me what you want, Shawnie,” you whispered against his skin, your breath flowing over his straining nipples. The sound that burst from him, somewhere between a whine and a moan, was glorious. His fingers shook in your hair as he pieced together enough control to form a broken sentence.

“Mouth...on me….”

“Oh?” you pressed a close-mouthed kiss to his hardened bud, “like this?” He whined again, his chest lifting up off the bed to prolong the contact.

“More.” His voice was straining, raised an octave above his normal pitch. You locked eyes with him, a serious set to your brow.

“You’ll take what I give you.” His face fell. Brat. You lifted up and settled back against his thighs, close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from you through the thin cotton of his poster boy underwear. Pushing him back with a spread palm, you leaned down again, flattening your tongue and licking a wet stripe through the center of one defined pectoral.

“Oh, fuck,” he mewled, spurring you on. Taking his pert nipple into your mouth, you flicked and licked and sucked, his hands braiding into your hair to hold you against him. You ground hard into his lap, moaning into his chest when you felt him impossibly hard against you. He squirmed underneath you, bucking, grinding, trying to feel something, anything more than what you were giving him. His hands started to roam, to grab, to try to control. Trailing your tongue in one last loop, you bit down.

His cried out, his body going rigid and stilling immediately.

“Good boy,” you purred, shifting against him, your wet panties leaving a damp spot on the fabric that still contained his straining cock, “now don’t move again until I say.”

He nodded, his curls whipping in and out of his eyes with the vigorous movement. Gripping the expensive hotel comforter, sweat collected on his brow, the heat from his body deepening the gorgeous blush creeping down his chest. He was a vision under you, chest heaving, his mouth hanging open, panting, with the effort of staying still. You could tell that he’d like nothing more than to rip your panties off and fuck you into oblivion, but you weren’t going to let that happen. Not until you said so.

Unhooking the pink lace behind your back, you arched back to give him a show. A little extra torture in his current state. He whipped his head to the side and closed his eyes, overwhelmed and unable to look at you.

“Ah, ah, baby,” you leaned down to whisper in his ear, “I want you to look at me when I take you inside my wet cunt.” Shawn moaned at your filthy words, opening his eyes. They were so fucked out, dark and glassy with lust. You grabbed his chin and pressed a searing kiss to his lips before sliding back down his legs, keeping your eyes locked.

You slipped your hands beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs, fingering the brand name stitched into the elastic. He was so fucking hot like this. You wondered what Calvin Klein would think having their big new ambassador writhing and moaning incoherently in their underwear. What an ad that would be. Grabbing hold, you ripped his Calvins down his legs. He sprung to life before you, resting, weeping against his lower abdomen. You crawled back to his hips and exhaled, wet and hot, along his length. He flinched, a long, low moan cascading from his chest.

“I can’t...I need…” he muttered disjointed phrases. His hips were digging a hole into the mattress, resisting the urge to seek friction where he wanted it. His phrases soon turned to low whimpers. Watching him, you couldn’t be sure he was coherent. In fact, when you settled back above him, panties forgotten, and pressed your dripping wet heat against his cock, you watched a tear travel down his temple and into his hairline.

But before you’d let him fuck you, you wanted to play with him first. Instead of taking him inside, doing exactly what he wanted you to do, you brought your hand down your stomach, lower, through the little thatch of hair, and rubbed soft circles around your swollen clit. He looked down at your hand and groaned, his cock growing harder beneath you. You continued to rub, applying firm pressure, grabbing and pulling at your own nipples, head thrown back. Moaning. Moaning so hard he could feel them through your lips wrapped around him. The fire in your belly stoked, coating his cock with your warm wetness. His mouth hung open like his voice was caught in his throat.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” you shifted, your voice fucked out, pulling a hiss from him before he could answer, “I know you wanna please me.” His whole body was wound up tight, biceps straining against the pillows where he clasped them to keep from moving. You could tell he wanted to move, needed to move, or he was going to lose it before ever feeling inside. He wasn’t going to last long, but the night was so very long.

“Shawn,” you commanded and he blinked, coming out of some place deep inside himself, finally seeing you. “Answer me.”

“I...want you…” he paused to draw a ragged breath, “to ride me.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” you lifted a few inches off his hips, gripping the base of him and ignoring his gasp, “because that’s exactly what I want, too.” You sank down, all the way down, and felt the pleasure-pain of him stretching you, felt his pulse inside you. Leaning back, almost far enough for your hair to graze his thighs, you braced yourself and slowly shifted your pelvis in a circular motion.

“Jesus, fuck,” you breathed, “Shawn, you feel so good.” His eyes were closed again, savoring the moment. Instead of a command, you used a much more effective tactic. You reached up, thanking the gods for daily stretching, and pinched his still bite-reddened nipple.

His eyes blew open, the pupil almost completely consuming the iris, “ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” You loved it when you rendered him wild and irrational. It was the perfect time to lift up, separating your hips from his, and quickly slam back down, your skin slapping in the wettest, filthiest sound.

You established a rhythm that way, hard and fast and wet and smooth and totally obscene. Shawn’s hands came to rest on top of your thighs, massaging your muscles while your fingers took purchase in his hair. He never tried to take control, not once. Not even when you took his hands and guided them over your abdomen to your breasts, his rough fingertips grazing your fucked sensitive nipples. The veins in his neck stood out from the strain of his complete restraint. He was fighting so hard. You could tell from the sweat pooling in the valley of his chest, the scrunched set of his brow, the fucking sound of his rough and uneven breaths, coming in bursts now.

“Shawn,” you shook your head in pleasure, “Shawn, fucking move with me. Take me now.”

The sound that came out of him. A growl….no, a snarl. It was the sexiest sound you’d ever heard.

He lifted off the bed at the waist and brought his arms around you tight, pressing you firmly against his chest. You kept a firm grasp on his hair, forcing his face up to yours and taking your fill of his mouth as he rutted up into you. Over and over and over again he hit that place inside you that only he ever had.

The noises that filled the hotel room were lewd, vulgar. Wet skin against wet skin, curses that strung together. You were close and you knew he was too. You could feel his body twitching in his shoulders, his abdomen, his thick cock thrusting in and out of you. The ocean threatened on all sides. The wave was coming. There was only one thing you had to do to make it all come crashing.

You moved in close, taking the tiny silver hoop in his ear and tugging a little before whispering, broken and rough but sugary sweet.

“Are you my good boy?”

He couldn’t fight it anymore.

His back arched and he yelled his release, gripping your hips tight to still them against his. The pulsing sensation of his thick come inside you sent you over the edge, a moment of complete white, followed by oversaturation. He collapsed backward onto the pillows, you following on top of him, breathing asynchronously. His chest lifted you up in progressively longer intervals as his breathing evened, fingers tracing patterns on your back.

“Holy fuck, babe,” he let out a chuckle, “I wasn’t expecting that.” You propped your chin up on his chest and smiled, blowing a piece of hair out of your face.

“You never answered my question,” you fingered his chest hair, scratching lightly at the skin with increasing pressure, eventually leaving a set of livid red marks in the center of his chest.

“Are you my good boy?” you asked, like it was the simplest question in the world.

He twitched inside you at the implication, the promise of what was to come no matter what his answer. They had all night. And he recovered quickly. He smiled into her strawberry-scented hair and tried to make his voice as level as possible.

“What if I want to be bad?”

😈

permanent taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @siennarossi @trustfundshawn @alone-in-madness @rodneywaber @harryandmolly @thatindiannerdygirl @the-claire-bitch-project @mendesromano @fromthicctosticc @esoltis280 @thotfulalena @softmendesss @sinplisticshawn @nedthegay @september-lace @itrocksmysocks @disaster-rose @mendesoft

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn peter raul mendes #my writing

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