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faggotmox · 1 month

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Show You How To Do This

Fandom: All Elite Wrestling (AEW) Rating: Explicit Characters: Jon Moxley, Claudio Castagnoli, (background) Bryan Danielson, Wheeler Yuta, Blackpool Combat Club, BCC Relationships: Jon Moxley/Claudio Castagnoli, background BCC Polycule Summary: Claudio shaves Mox's head before their match in Mexico. Word Count: 1,847 Writer's Notes: Shout out to @di0brando for proof reading/editing. You're the best. Yes, I know Yuta wasn't there but I pretend the whole BCC travels together like a weird version of Stark Tower in Marvel.

-> link to ao3

Show You How To Do This

"Damn it." Mox grunted as he dropped the clippers in his hand again, hunched over the hotel bathroom sink.

"You know," Claudio spoke up from the door that was supposed to be closed. "I could always help with that."

"Hey!" Mox glared at the reflection of his teammate. "I told everyone to stay the fuck out."

"I know." Claudio nodded along. "I got Bryan and Yuta to go for a run."

"You did?" Mox glanced behind the large man in his doorway.

"Yes, I did." Claudio crossed his arms over his chest. "Will you let me help you now?"

It wasn't that Mox was an insecure person, he didn't think his guys would suddenly think he was ugly without the little hair he kept. Mostly Mox just didn't like to change his appearance, and finally committing to the bald look was a pretty big change for him. Even if there wasn’t much hair left to remove. Mox knew he was sexy with or without hair, he just needed some time to adjust before everyone else got to see. He was the same with his tattoos as well, never telling people he was getting one and just letting himself adjust to it before the world got to have their opinion.

"…Sure." Mox let his shoulders slump. "It's the mirror. I can't figure out what way to go, you know?"

"Trust me, I know." Claudio smiled as he came further into the bathroom, letting the door close behind him despite being alone in the hotel. "Thank you for allowing me to help you."

"I should've just asked. I wanted to, but…" Mox gave a shrug.

"You do not like the change, I can understand that. You've never been keen on changing how you look." Claudio reiterated the thoughts that had flown through Mox's mind just moments before.

"You want me to sit or something?" Mox motioned to the closed toilet or the edge of the bath.

"No, it's alright. I'm tall enough." Claudio grinned at the annoyed look that got him. "I want to show you how to do this as well."

"Cool. Thanks." Mox smiled just a little into the mirror at Claudio.

It wasn't going to be a long process. Claudio started by explaining how the clippers worked before taking off all of Mox's fringe and then smoothing out the short fade. More hair fell away than Mox really expected as Claudio showed him which direction to run the clippers for the cleanest cut. The easy way Claudio fell into showing him made Mox feel more comfortable, more at ease. The large man had that effect on him more often than not.

The last of the length was cut away so Mox only had peach fuzz left.

"I'll get you an electric razor like mine to make this part easier, but…" Claudio couldn't help laughing at the fact Mox just had a safety razor. "You would have nicked yourself, darling."

"Shut up." Mox turned red. "I already did." He pointed to a little cut at the edge near his ear where he had clearly just tried and failed.

"Here. We'll use this instead." Claudio pulled out his dopp kit from near the sink to get out his straight razor and shaving cream.

"Have you been planning this?" Mox narrowed his eyes at the razor. "You don't cut your beard with a razor and you use the fancy waterproof one on your head in the shower."

"I may have noticed some things and decided to carry these around in case you asked for my help." Claudio at least looked abashed by being caught.

"Uh-huh." Mox turned to look directly up at Claudio. "You've been thinking about shaving me?"

"I-- you--" Claudio got flustered and had to look away.

"Is this the same reason why you talked Bryan and Wheeler into letting you groom their beards before shows, and do Bryan's braids?" Mox pressed himself slightly closer, even though there wasn't enough room.

"I simply know what I'm doing, and want to help." Claudio was turning a little red as Mox put his hand on the back of the larger man's neck.

"You always just wanna help, big guy." Mox's voice dropped slightly and Claudio pushed him up against the counter. "I think it's pretty hot when you do that shit."

"Jon…" Claudio sighed as he leaned into the other, his lips ghosting over Mox's ear as he tried to compose himself a little. "We need to finish."

"Think you can wait that long, Swiss?" Mox nipped at the underside of the chiseled jaw of Claudio.

"Stop trying to distract me." Claudio groaned as he worked to spin Mox back around.

"Fine, fine. Hurry up." Mox grumbled as he let himself be turned.

The shaving cream was applied lightly over Mox's head. The sensual feeling was a surprise to Mox. Maybe this was why Bryan and Yuta always seemed centered after Claudio groomed them. A shiver ran through Mox as he thought of it like that. Claudio was grooming them. The way Claudio made a lot of their gear, or at the very least tailored it, or how he always cooked for them, and helped them train. There was always a service Claudio provided them with an expert level of awareness.

"So, you always known you had a grooming fetish?" Mox held still but laughed at the incredulous look that earned him.

"Have you always known you were a brat?" Claudio shot back much to Mox's glee.

"Yeah, actually." Mox looked even more smug now as Claudio cleared the back of his head with slow, gentle, efficient strokes of the razor.

"Can you be patient for a few more minutes while I finish?" Claudio rolled his eyes as he moved onto the sides.

"Yes, daddy, I can." Mox's voice dripped sweet sarcasm.

"You're impossible."

The rest didn't take long. A few clean sweeps over the top. A couple touch ups. They were done. Mox blinked at himself in the mirror, reaching up to touch his scalp. It wasn't bad, he realized. It looked nice thanks to Claudio's careful touch. Mox had been terrified of obliterating part of his beard. There weren't any rough patches either. He let out a huge sigh of relief that he didn't realize he was holding in.

"You look good, Jon." Claudio smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of Mox's now-bald head.

"Thanks to you. I'd have missed patches and cut myself." Mox grinned as he rubbed along the side.

"You'll learn." Claudio nudged him.

"Maybe, but I'd rather you do it." Mox smiled at the excitement that got from Claudio.

"You're very sweet sometimes." Claudio took Mox by the hand and pulled him towards the shower. "I know you must be itchy."

"Fuck yeah, I'm itchy." Mox groaned dramatically as Claudio turned the shower on.

"Let's get you cleaned off." Claudio agreed.

They made quick work of what little clothes they had on before popping into the shower. Claudio was quick to press Mox up against the wall as the warm water cascaded down their bodies. The soft little moans Mox always made when he was being manhandled turned into full blown groans as Claudio worked two fingers into him. Thankfully, they kept a stash of lube in the shower. Claudio's teeth found the webbing of Mox's shoulder and neck and decided to leave some marks there. A claim of sorts.

"Fuck, fuck. Claudio, I swear to god, if you're teasing me--" Mox grunted as he pushed on the wall to add more pressure against Claudio's fingers.

"I'm not." Claudio mumbled against his skin as a third finger slipped in to make Mox howl. "Shh, relax."

"Can't fuckin' relax when you just spent thirty minutes grooming me and shit." Mox sighed again as Claudio slipped three fingers in and out of him. "God damn. That feels so fucking good, man."

"Jon." Claudio's warning tone, like he might snap if Mox kept it up. So of course Mox kept it up.

"You're fucking sexy as hell standing over me, shaving me and making sure I look good." Mox grinned to himself as he felt Claudio move his leg, making him put a foot up on the corner edge of the shower. "Fuck yeah."

"If you ever want your chest hair gone again…" Claudio wrapped an arm around Mox to run his fingers through said chest hair as the other hand lined himself up with Mox's hole and started to push in.

"Fuck!" Mox yelled out as he felt himself being filled.

There was almost no way to shut Mox up when he was really into something unless you gagged him. Considering it was the middle of the day in their hotel, Claudio decided not to care much, and started to thrust into the smaller man with a lot more force. The increased volume from Mox only spurred Claudio on, his thrusts staying annoyingly in rhythm when Mox tried to get him to speed up.

"Stay still." Claudio growled. "You'll slip."

"Fuck me harder then!" Mox had both hands trying to grip onto the unforgiving wall, face pressed against the cool tile as he was thoroughly fucked.

Claudio shifted his stance, using the tub walls to brace against as he focused on harder, more direct thrusts that made Mox go insane. The man was practically melting in Claudio's arms. They were both so close. Claudio could feel the urgent squeeze of Mox's inner walls. One of Mox's hands was grabbed and shoved between the wall and his body, signaling for him to start jerking himself off while Claudio held them up.

"Fuck, yes, keep going! That's it." Mox cried out and threw his head back as he came all over the shower wall with only a few tugs.

Claudio stilled, cursing to himself in his own language as he rode out Mox's orgasm with him. If he kept going he knew he'd come too, and he knew Mox loved being fucked after he got his. As Mox went boneless, Claudio shifted them to face the wall with the shower head, he pushed at Mox's shoulders until he bent over with his hands braced on the wall.

"Wider." Claudio pushed the other's legs apart until they were against the walls of the tub. "There. Hold on."

"To fuckin' what?"

Instead of answering, Claudio gripped Mox's hips and started to amp back up to a rough pace. The low whine from Mox set Claudio on edge as he sped up his thrusts. There was no holding back anymore as Claudio got closer and Mox got louder. Claudio finally came with a heavy moan, fully bottomed out in Mox, spilling into him as they both gasped heavy breathes.

"Fuck." Mox felt himself being pulled up to standing as the water ran down his front.

"Fuck." Claudio mumbled in agreement as he came down slowly. "Okay, we should actually wash up before the others get back.”

"Jeez. Give a guy a minute." Mox grunted as he found his footing in the shower.

"You never need a minute." Claudio scoffed.

#ay look a fic i guess lmao #jon moxley #claudio castagnoli/jon moxley #claudio castagnoli #bcc fic #bcc #blackpool combat club #blackpool combat club fic #aew fic #fanfic #fanfiction #wrestling fic #aew fanfiction #ranger written

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mattybraps10 · 6 months

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He Could Be The One | Trevor Zegras x Reader

Summary: After a long day of travelling, y/n and the guys settle in to watch a movie.

Word Count: ~916

By: M

part one | part three

PART TWO: Dinner and a Movie

Trevor's room is the complete opposite of what I was expecting. Instead of piles of dirty clothes and the occasional empty water bottle thrown on the ground, everything was neatly put in its place, freshly cleaned clothes folded on the edge of the pristinely made bed, waiting to be put away. I put my bag on the floor and start unpacking the essentials. I walk into the bathroom, surprised to see that Trevor does not in fact use a 9-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, body wash, etc. Instead, he has a variety of products, ranging from shampoo and conditioner to a step-by-step skin care routine. I placed my dopp kit on the counter next to the sink, carefully arranging my skin care products beside his. I then placed my hairbrush on the counter alongside my toothbrush and toothpaste, humming Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift to myself. I look up into the mirror, surprised to see Trevor leaning on the door frame behind me.

"Oh! How long have you been there?" I ask, completely startled.

"Not long at all actually... I was just going to ask if you wanted to come down for dinner. Jamie and Jack ordered pizza." He smiles, stepping back to let me through the door.

"Yeah! That sounds great thanks!" I say, starting down the stairs, looking over my shoulder to see him following close behind me.

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

"Thanks for getting my favorite pizza!" I say to Jack, helping him load the dishwasher.

"Of course y/n. I know how picky you are." He laughs, shoving me playfully with his shoulder.

I laugh, throwing my head back and once again noticing Trevor staring at me over the back of the couch.

"Guys. Time for a movie!" He calls, when he realizes I've noticed his stare.

"Ugh... Fine. But, I am not watching Parent Trap with you again." Jack says, addressing me.

My favorite movie has been The Parent Trap with Lindsay Lohan from before I can remember. Every time we sit down to watch a movie, it's the first suggestion I bring to the table. I remember when Jack finally gave in and let us watch it, only to become annoyed when he realized I had the whole thing memorized. Naturally, I quoted the movie back to him as we watched.

"Ok whatever." I reply rolling my eyes and walking over to take my place beside Jamie on the couch.

Before I can sit down, however, Jack rushes in front of me practically throwing himself onto the couch.

"Sorry! This seat's taken!" Jack says, looking up at me as if he didn't just steal my spot.

He turns towards the empty spot on the couch between Trevor and Jamie. I laugh to myself thinking there's no way Jack's gonna leave me to sit with Trevor, but, he makes no move to stand, and instead starts laughing at me. I roll my eyes at him, taking my seat next to Trevor and scooting way too close to Jamie.

"Ok, since you got to pick your seat, I get to pick the movie..." I start.

"Um- No. Actually I get to pick the movie, since I have to room with you." Trevor sneers, cutting me off.

"Well, actually... I think that's a great idea." I nod to him, deciding to be nice for once.

"You... What?" He says, shocked that I could say such a thing.

"You heard me." I reply with a smirk on my face.

After a long debate between Trevor and Jamie over who gets to actually use the remote to turn on the movie, Trevor wins and picks 10 Things I Hate About You.

The opening credits start, and as Kat's song starts blasting from her car drowning out the girls next to her, I turn to Trevor curious as to why he picked one of my favorite romantic comedies of all time.

"Trevor... Why did you pick this movie? It doesn't really strike me as something you would watch..."

"Oh? What? Because I play hockey I can't like romantic movies? You're so stereotypical." He rolls his eyes, turning back to the movie and muttering about something I can't quite hear.

We all watch the movie in silence, laughing when appropriate. By the time Kat is dancing on the table at Bogey Lowenstein's party, my eyes have become heavy. After a long day of travelling, I find myself drifting off to sleep leaning my head on the thing closest to me, which just so happens to be the shoulder of an unsuspecting Trevor Zegras. He jumps a bit, but, I am so tired that I don't really care. I nestle my head into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me, pulling me close. I drift in and out of consciousness for the rest of the movie, tuning into snippets of conversations between Jamie, Jack, and Trevor.

"Trevor. Did you really pick 10 Things I Hate About You because you like it?" Jack asks curious to know why the movie was chosen.

"I- Uh- Well... No. I actually chose it because I remember watching it with y/n for her 15th birthday..." He sighs.

"OH MY GOD DUDE!" Jamie wheezes. "YOU-" I drift off again.

I wake up to a strong set of arms carrying me upstairs. All I feel is the warmth of a chest, and I nestle in, taking in the familiar scent.

"Ok, n/n. Time for bed." The voice says, gently placing my head against a soft pillow, and tucking me under the blanket. I drift off to sleep happy to be in a comfortable bed surrounded by a sweet honey-filled scent.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #hockey fanfiction

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hand-off · 1 year

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Nothing like a Louis Vuitton Dopp kit showcased on a nub

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minefield-of-a-ninja · 10 months

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BLACK TIE OPTIONAL: PART ONE

Summary: The last time we saw Vanessa, she was swooning over Dean’s lasting impression. Now, we fast-forward a year to see what she’s up to.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC Vanessa Martinelli, (eventual) Sam Winchester x OFC Emma Olsen

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, HBO RomCom bullshit

Author's notes: Follow-up to Plus One.

Joe's Barber Shop is a 55-year-old ship in Chicago's Logan Square neighborhood.

Thanks, as always, to @stunudo and @brrose-apothecary for pre-reading and being my friends.

Black Tie Optional master list

PART ONE

As planned, Dean and Sam leave bright and early on Thursday morning. They make a stop in Lincoln to hit up a priest who was rumored to have intel on Amara. That priest sends them to a rabbi in Omaha, who sends them to a Lutheran pastor in Des Moines. Their last lead is a psychic in Davenport; she tries to stab Sam because she’s still mad about the demon blood thing, and they walk away no better than they were at 5 AM.

Around midnight, Dean pulls into the Naperville Motel 6. He cuts the engine and unfolds from the driver’s seat.

“Grab those burritos, would ya? I’ll get our suits.” He ducks into the back seat to retrieve his duffle and their hanging clothes for the weekend. When he looks up, Sam is giving him a look.

Dean rolls his eyes. “What?” He secures the bags and knees Baby’s backdoor shut.

Sam arches both brows as he shuts his own door. “You like this girl.”

“No, Sam, I’m blowing off my soul-sucking ‘soul mate,’” he pauses, juggling bags and keys to air-quote his point, “and hauled ass halfway across the country for bupkis.”

Dean rounds the trunk, and Sam stifles a snort. “I just can’t believe we’re dressing like this, and it isn’t for a job.”

Dean mutters something as he slots the key into the room lock. “Sam, we just got these suits cleaned-”

“Dude, you don’t need to make excuses.” Sam follows his brother inside the room.

“Plus,” Dean continues as he strides toward the small clothes rack, “we got an all-expenses paid weekend with two beautiful women waitin’ for us at a swank hotel.”

“I’m not complaining-”

“Good.” Dean hangs the garment bags on the bar and separates them before unzipping his bag. As he assesses the colors and reconsiders his shoes, he thinks of another reason. “Besides, we own this shit, might as well get our money’s worth off the clock.”

He swipes a hand down the front of his (brand-new) black button-up before turning to face his brother again, who doesn’t appear impressed.

“What?!”

Sam doesn’t stifle anything this time; he laughs out loud. “How are you the same brother of mine who thinks turning boxers inside out is the same as washing them?”

Dean cocks his jaw and glares at Sam. “First of all, that was a joke I made one time. Second...” His eyes start to glaze over with memories. “Vanessa is one of the Top 5 best nights of my life — like I still have a pair of her panties in my nightstand drawer-”

“OK,” Sam interrupts his brother with one word and a large open palm facing out. “I don’t need the details. I’m taking a shower.” He crosses the room to set his bag on one of the beds before zipping it open to retrieve his Dopp kit.

“I’m gonna text Vanessa.” Dean drops his duffle on the other bed and pulls out his phone.

“Fine, just get your sexting done before I’m out.” Sam firmly closes the bathroom door behind him.

“Pssh,” Dean brushes Sam off as he taps out a message to his wedding date.

How ya doin, kitten?

Looking forward to seeing you.

Me too... crashing in Naperville tonight, got a couple errands to run, probably get in around 3 tomorrow

Perfect. Em and I are in a double queen lakefront suite. We’ll get the adjoining king room tomorrow for you and me.

Lakefront suite, sounds fancy

It’s not The Peninsula, but it’s a cool old hotel.

We’re at Motel 6 right now and that’s nice compared to what we’re used to

Well, then, I’ll make sure you get the royal treatment

Nessa, honey, you could make a tent in the woods royal

Jesus, I can’t wait to get my hands on you

Same, kitten, fucking same

Sam peeks around the open bathroom door, letting wet heat spill out around him and foaming at the mouth with Crest. “You done?” he mumbles.

Dean winces at his brother’s indelicacy. “Like I’m gonna start something I only have three minutes to finish, please.”

...can’t wait to get other things on you as well

Believe me when I say that I would love to continue this conversation straight up until and including when I finally lay eyes on you, but Sammy’s outta the shower and being a little bitch, so I better go

😆😆😆

(Sorry about the little bitch comment)

Don’t apologize, he’s your brother, I’m sure you’ve called him worse

Dean doesn’t give that assumption any real recognition, but she’s right.

Goodnight, pretty girl. See you tomorrow afternoon.

Night, Dean 💋

Despite Sam’s grumpiness and the utter lack of even a whiff of Amara, Dean sleeps well. He wakes up Friday morning in plenty of time to shower and find a barber.

“A barber. Dean, when was the last time you went to a barber?”

“About two months ago, Sam. Look at yourself in the mirror and then look at me. Outta the two of us, I’m the one Most Likely To Visit A Barber.”

Sam smirks like he’s got something to smirk about. “You go to a barber for that haircut?”

“Keep it to yourself, Fabio. I’m goin’ for a shave and a haircut. You should consider the same. If they shave faces at the place you go for haircuts, I dunno.”

Sam rolls his eyes so hard Dean thinks he can hear it.

One hour later, Dean’s flipping through a magazine at Joe’s Barber Shop on Fullerton Avenue in Chicago. They don’t take appointments, but he’s heard enough about Joe’s that he doesn’t mind waiting.

Dean doesn’t usually like unfamiliar environments, but the vintage interiors, and family business, blue-collar vibe make him feel right at home. When his number’s called, he tosses the magazine to the table and walks right up to the barber.

“Welcome in, I’m Joe.”

The man’s neat beard, meticulous high and tight haircut, and detailed tattoo work give Dean a sense of confidence already.

“No way — thee Joe?”

The man chuckles as he spins the freshly cleaned chair in invitation.

“I’m Junior, my pops is Thee Joe. Take a seat.”

Dean settles into the old-fashioned barber chair in awe.

“What’re you in for today?”

“Well, I got a hot date this weekend. I could go for a real old school shave and one of those high and tights like you got goin’ on there.”

Joe Jr. nods and sets about gathering his tools. “You got it, my friend.”

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Dean raps three times on the hotel door before stepping back, squaring his hips and shoulders, and letting the smirk he knows she loves settle onto his lips. The door swings open to reveal Vanessa, barefoot in a bathrobe, face made up, and hair in massive pink hair rollers.

“Dean...” she breathes. Her wide, bright eyes rake over him. “God, you look- I look... ugh, sorry.”

Dean grins, reaching for her and closing the gap between them. “What’re you sorry about?”

He slips his free arm around her waist and dips in to kiss her where they stand in the doorway. Vanessa melts against him, one hand on his chest and the other sliding up to brush her fingertips over the freshly shaved sides of his head. Her hand dances around the warm velvet of his skull and down his nape, making Dean groan into her mouth.

He wants to drag her to a broom closet or bed. Instead, he breaks the kiss without pulling away.

“We need to do a lot more of that this weekend.” He grins down at her, attempting to kiss her again when a pretty blonde woman appears in their periphery.

“Hey.” She smiles and raises a hand in a half-wave, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her jade eyes.

“Oh, hey.” Vanessa wiggles out of Dean’s embrace, patting her rollers and sliding a hand into one of his. “Em, this Dean, and-” She pauses and peeks around Dean at the man standing in the hall. “Sam, I assume?”

Sam grins and mirrors Emma’s small wave. “That’s me. Thank you both for the invitation. Should be a really nice weekend.”

Emma’s smile floats up to her eyes this time. Dean remembers what Vanessa said about Emma’s ex-boyfriend and thinks the guy must be a real idiot. He doesn’t say that out loud, though.

“It’s gonna be a great weekend.” He winks at Emma before glancing back down at Vanessa. “You look beautiful.”

Vanessa blushes and bites her lip as she rises on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “So do you,” she whispers.

“Well, come on in, you guys.” Emma motions to the living area. “We’ll show you around.”

Vanessa pulls Dean inside, not that he resists, and Sam follows.

“There’s a kitchen and a little dining table, and we got the adjoining King room today, which Van’s already called dibs on.” She rounds the kitchen island and opens the small fridge. “Anybody want a beer?”

Vanessa and the brothers accept Emma’s offer, so she retrieves four bottles, quickly popping the caps off each as Dean and Sam drape their bags over the back of the couch. She joins them in the living area and hands a beer to each of them before raising her bottle in a toast.

“Thank you, Sam and Dean, for coming this weekend. I know Van told you about my ex-boyfriend,” she pauses and rolls her eyes, “so I appreciate you being such good sports about it as well.”

Vanessa, Dean, and Sam raise their bottles so the four of them can toast. After a long first sip, Dean speaks up. “Well, we needed a break, the pleasure’s all ours.”

Emma seems to appreciate that sentiment. She turns to Sam with a mischievous smile. “I know we don’t know each other at all, but you are very good-looking, and I already dig your vibe, so... whatever happens, happens. Cool?”

Sam laughs out loud and nods, toasting with Emma again as he turns toward her, practically shutting Dean and Vanessa out. But they don't even notice; .

Behind closed doors, Dean makes quick work of hanging his garment bag and dropping his duffle on the luggage rack.

“Any special requests for the weekend?”

When he turns from the closet, he finds Vanessa in the middle of the room — her hair is still in rollers, but the robe is long gone. She’s slipped into a pair of strappy black heels and nothing else.

“Requests?” she asks as she saunters toward him, bronzed and glowing.

Dean licks his bottom lip in between his teeth and bites down as he slides his hands into the pockets of his oxblood dress pants.

“Last time you wanted me to make a scene,” he says, recalling her succinct proposition.

“I’ll get you drunk and fed... and suck your cock. On one condition.” “And what’s that?” “Give ‘em something to remember me by, and maybe I’ll never be asked back again.”

Vanessa thoughtfully halts when the toes of her Steve Maddens are touching Dean’s shiny, black dress shoes.

“Ohh, right!” She plays like she forgot. “How could I forget?”

Dean pokes his tongue inside his cheek and nods, narrowing his eyes. “And I seem to remember somethin’ about wantin’ to feel me for days afterward.”

“How many days?” “Oh, I dunno... Six or seven?”

Vanessa reaches out to brush a hand across one shoulder of his black button-up and then down to hook her fingers in his waistband. “And you didn’t disappoint.”

Dean groans, reaching out to gently grip her hips. “C’mon, kitten, tell me what you want.”

She closes her eyes and lets him press his lips to her throat and collarbone. He slides his hands from her hips up the curve of her waist and grips her ribcage, teasing the soft underside of her breasts with his thumbs.

“Anything you want,” he whispers in her ear before scraping its shell between his teeth.

Vanessa releases a shaking exhale, and her throat convulses as she swallows the saliva pooling in her mouth.

“We’re supposed to be downstairs in 15 minutes...”

He hums and brushes his lips along her jaw and thumbs up and across her tight nipples.

“But... I only need five to finish my hair.”

“Mhmm.” Dean dips in to capture one nipple between his lips, then the other.

Vanessa cradles the back of his neck and hangs her head back. “What can you do in 10 minutes without getting all wrinkly?”

Dean chuckles. “Honey, I can do a lot in 10 minutes. But, uhh,” he pauses and glances around the room. Then he grins. “C’mere.”

He leads her across the room, walking backward as his eyes roam every inch of bare, silky skin. When he reaches their destination, he pats her hip. “Hop up.”

She giggles, and he helps her to sit on the desk.

“Now, stay right there.” He leans in and kisses her mouth as he sinks into the desk chair. He cups her calves in his hands to tuck her knees and heeled feet at his sides.

Once he’s in position, he peeks at his watch. “Eight minutes,” he mutters, then kisses and nips his way down her body. He sighs at the apex of her thighs and barely suppresses a little groan before pressing a kiss to her glistening pussy lips.

Vanessa gasps at the sight and grips the top tuft of his hair. “I’m such a mess... all I could think about the last two days was this.” Her breath hitches.

“Me too,” Dean murmurs, wrapping an arm around her hips and bringing his other hand in to spread her lips open. He gently sucks her clit, blows it a kiss, and lightly massages it in a light circular motion.

“Nessa, honey, you taste so good.” He dips his tongue inside her and sucks her smooth lips. “So sweet and tangy.”

He slips his long middle finger inside her, then purposefully anchors it with her g-spot. He presses against it and rotates the position of the wide pad of his finger right there — no slide, just manipulation and gentle pressure.

“You look so hot, Dean…” She peers down at him, his mouth and hand shining with her slick juices and his spit.

Dean grins and licks her. He sucks the fleshiest parts of her between his lips as his thumb swipes across and back, hovering, barely kissing her clit, and she bucks against his face, twisting his hair in her hand.

“This fucking haircut… and your hands and mouth on me… I’m gonna come right now.”

Dean moans against her, thumbing the side of her clit as she starts to throb around his finger. As she catches her breath, he kisses the insides of her thighs until she tugs him up to stand.

“Inside, Dean, please.” She yanks at his belt and pants, and Dean wipes his mouth, letting her have her way.

“God, your dick is beautiful.” Vanessa wraps her hand around him as Dean tilts her head back to kiss her neck and breasts. He swears and plants a fist on the desk beside her hip when she gets him notched inside.

“Oh, fucking…” Vanessa braces her hands behind her and lifts her feet to position her heels on the edge of the desk. “Fuck me.”

Dean braces one hand on the mirror behind her and wraps a arm around her waist, grits his teeth, and does exactly as she requested.

xoxoxoxoxox

“Part of me’s disappointed you’re not in jeans and a henley,” Vanessa speculates as she puts the finishing touches on her hair.

Dean arches a brow at her in the mirror as he dries his face with a hand towel. “If I’d known that”-

“But,” she pauses, pointedly reapplying her lipstick. “This is even better. You and your brother are gonna be the hottest guys there.”

Dean smirks back at her. “Wait’ll you see me in a suit.”

Vanessa turns to face him, capping her lipstick. “Thank you again for coming.”

There’s something in her eyes that Dean can’t quite define, and it makes his heart skip. He holds her gaze as he offers her his elbow.

“Wouldn’t miss it for anything, kitten.”

Vanessa accepts his offer, and they exit the bedroom to join Emma and Sam before heading down to the rehearsal.

Part Two

Tell me what you liked the best about this or ask me a question!

Dean Winchester Masterlist | SPN Masterlist | All Fic Masterlist

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x ofc

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bradsbackpack · 6 months

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Gravel Soft 3oz Liquid Bottles Review

Our Verdict ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.5 out of 5. Pros Built in adjustable labels Stackable design stops space wastage Cons No smaller sizes Croners are difficult to clean Technical Details Dimensions (Stacked together) 9.5 x 5.1 x 3.8 cm Weight 39.1g Main Materials Silicone Where to buy You can also use the below button to purchase your own pair of Travel Bottles from Gravel or Amazon. By…

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#Bath #Beauty #Carry-on #Dopp Kit #Gravel #Liquid #product reviews #Review #shampoo #Shower #travel size #Travel-sized #TSA #Washing

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eskein · 6 months

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Backpacks are one of the most popular bags of all time. You can carry it to work, casual outings with friends, a hike in the hills or a picnic at the beach.

The versatility and durability of the leather backpack make it the best choice for people of all age groups. For More Read - https://www.tumblr.com/eskein/734585037423607808/mastering-the-art-of-efficiently-packing-a-leather

#leather backpack #eské backpacks #dopp kits #backpacks

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lightningboltreader · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday

Eeek. Here’s bit of reflective angst - the last vestiges of the enemy stage - in the continuing story of one itty bitty hotel bed. 😉

It’s after midnight when TK taps his keycard against the hotel room door sensor. The main room is dark, but there’s a dim nightlight left on in the bathroom, providing enough light for him to enter quietly and ensure the heavy door is locked securely behind him. He ignores the bed, retreating into the small, now too bright sanctuary before he has to face a sleeping Carlos.

TK turns the faucet to hot and strips out of his clothes, actively ignoring the sight of Carlos’ Dopp kit next to his own on the bathroom counter. He pointedly doesn’t feel any nostalgia about the red electric toothbrush charging in the corner. It’s just stuff. Instead, he grabs his travel soaps, adjusts the water temperature and climbs into the shower.

The pressure’s surprisingly decent, causing a quiet moan as the pulsating stream begins to work on TK’s sore back and shoulders. He closes his eyes, tipping his head back and inviting the warm spray to drown out the noisy spin cycle of his thoughts. He concentrates on his senses, pushing down the dread forming a pit in his stomach for the feeling of wet drops on his nose and lips. He shoves aside the hurt tone of Carlos’ attempt at a joke this afternoon for the sound of water bursting out of the shower head above him with a whine.

TK just wants to relax and go to sleep. He doesn’t want to relive the two-year old end of him and Carlos. It just wasn’t meant to be. This weekend can’t change that. He purses his lips, willing his heart to get on board. This maddening arrangement is not, he reminds himself, some karmic punishment for leaving. They were incompatible. He moved away. That’s it. Tonight they’ll sleep in the same bed one last time. Tomorrow he’ll go back to Houston.

(tags below the cut)

Thank you @kiloskywalker, @bonheur-cafe, @taralaurel, @sanjuwrites, @orchidscript, @theghostofashton and @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad for the tags. I am FERAL about your wips and greatly appreciate the nudge of accountability. 🙏🏼

There’s still several more minutes left in my Wednesday (procrastinating much char??) and only delightful consequences to sharing on other days too, so please join in and tag me if you have something in progress to show off! 💕

#wip wednesday #enemies to lovers where there may or may not be a limited bed issue #lightningboltreader ideas #angsty bits #tarlos wip #two idiots one hotel bed #911 lone star

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howldean · 11 months

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lil heads up that there’s a bipoc trans owned business called stealth bros co. that makes really good quality and snazzy dopp kits — great for storing and traveling with supplies and needles/vials for testosterone, as well as sharps disposal in cool colors and they’re having a sale this weekend for 50% off their original kits. figured i’d share, happy pride 🏳️‍⚧️

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edupunkn00b · 8 months

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Where the Air is Sweet, Chapter 5

Photo by Rachel Martin on Unsplash

Prev - Ch. 5 - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 1881 - Rating: T - CW: fluff, teensy bit of unfounded worry, a smidge of non-sexual D/s.

The hot water turned on with a little squeak, something that used to irritate Logan when he and Patton had first moved into their apartment. It would grate on him, and his jaw would clench as he’d silently—or not so silently—curse the plumber who’d installed it with insufficient lubrication.

But then one day, Patton had called him in when he’d been preparing his own bath. Enveloped in a fuzzy towel and his baby blue polka-dotted cap on his head, Patton had turned the knob back and forth while squeezing his rubber duck.

“Listen, Lo! They make the same sound!” he’d laughed, the naked joy on his face infectious. Logan couldn’t help but laugh along.

Ever since that day, no matter how tired he was, no matter how long of a day he’d had, that little squeak never failed to curl Logan’s lips into a smile each time he started his shower. He adjusted the spray so only a little water would hit the aromatic tab he'd placed in the corner of the tub, then undressed and tested the temperature. It was still heating up, so he took a moment to stretch before removing the small necklace he wore under his shirt.

He kept the key for it in his dopp kit, hidden in an otherwise empty razor box. Not that he feared Patton would ever violate his privacy by rifling through his belongings, it just felt… safer to keep the key tucked away.

Patton didn’t know about this necklace. Using his reflection to find the tiny keyhole, Logan shrugged to himself. Necklace wasn’t quite the right word for the delicate silver band he wore low on his neck, just above his clavicle. The shop where he’d bought it, not at Mr. D’s, but one two towns over, had labeled it a… collar.

At the time, Logan couldn’t identify what had driven him to research the topic. If asked now, he wasn’t sure he’d really be able to explain. He’d come across a mention of it in a book of poetry. One which he’d wrapped in another dust jacket to obscure its unusual title. The poem had spoken reverently of a collar worn by the writer. It spoke of love and peace, of the quiet that fell over the poet when his… friend had latched it into place around his neck.

Phrases and feelings from the poem danced in Logan’s head for months after he’d first read it. The soft hush that eased sharp, anxious thoughts. The certainty of being needed and wanted and cared for that the simple circle of leather and metal had granted the author.

Logan longed for that.

He’d felt compelled to learn more and, slowly, furtively, as he did with any problem or idea, he researched it. And eventually, that research had brought him to Stolitz’ Treasures.

“Are you looking for something for a gift?” the tall, thin man behind the counter had asked. His voice lilted almost musically, and he spoke deliberately, as though he chose his words with care.

Logan’s cheeks had flushed at the question. “W—well, actually, I am looking for something for myself.”

“Ah, I thought so,” he’d suddenly grinned and nodded knowingly. “No shame in that, not everyone’s needs to be gifted to them.” Long, thin fingers came up and stroked the red and black jewel that hung from a choker around his own neck. “Did you have something in mind already or would you like to browse in peace?”

“Perhaps it would be helpful to look around a bit?” There was a dizzying array of items in the glass cases, rings and bracelets and… collars. The shopkeeper smiled and nodded, then stepped back with a welcoming gesture toward the displays.

Logan had nearly given up, overwhelmed with choice, when a small blue heart hanging from a silver collar had caught his eye. His hand had moved almost automatically, bumping the glass as he reached for it. “Ah, you have a fondness for denim lapis, I see.” The shopkeeper was already opening the case.

“I… I didn’t know lapis grew in both shades of blue in the same stone,” Logan had stammered. “I’ll take it,” he'd said before he could overthink it.

That had been three months ago. Logan didn’t wear his collar everyday. Well… at least not at first. But on days he'd abstained, he’d quickly found himself missing the gentle weight, the way both the stone and the silver warmed against his skin throughout the day. It fit nicely under his shirts and ties and his fingers felt the tiny heart each time he straightened his Windsor knot.

The shopkeeper had warned him the stone could be discolored by some soaps, so he removed it before each shower and, of course, before swimming with Patton. A small part of himself hated to take it off and shame flushed his cheeks. What would Patton think if he knew?

“Lo?” As though summoned, Patton called to him. Logan fumbled the key and it clinked at the bottom of the sink before disappearing down the drain.

“No!” he said, louder than he’d meant to.

“Lo, are you okay?” Patton asked, knocking on the door. “Can I get you something?”

“Uh… uh…” Panic coursed through his veins and his hands shook. He stretched over the sink, reaching for a flashlight from the cabinet, but bumped the faucet. Water rushed down the drain, washing away the key. “Oh, no,” he near-sobbed.

“Lo? Lo, you don’t sound okay…” Patton knocked again. “Please, what’s wrong?”

Without the key there was no way he could get this off. Even if he could somehow protect the precious stone in the shower, he and Patton were due to go to the beach together tomorrow. They’d been planning it for weeks. If he backed out now, Patton would know something was wrong. There'd be no way to hide this collar on the beach. No way to postpone until he could return to the shop for assistance. He could face the music now, or could face it later. Either way…

He’s your friend. He’ll understand.

Patton knocked again. “Um, just a moment,” Logan managed and turned off the shower. Delaying the inevitable, he took his time pulling on his robe and tied it tightly before glancing in the mirror. Without his flannel pajama top, the silver collar poked out, glinting brightly against his skin.

Wordlessly, he opened the door.

“Lo! Are you—“ Patton rushed inside, reaching for him and patting his shoulders and upper arms. Head hung low, Logan stared at the tessellating tile floor, afraid to see Patton’s initial response.

But Patton was having none of that. Logan shivered when Patton’s soft, warm hand cradled his jaw and lifted his chin until their eyes met. “Lo, what’s wrong?”

Unsure how to explain, unsure there really was any way he could explain, Logan pulled aside his robe just enough to show the collar. “I dropped the key down the drain,” he admitted.

“Key?” Patton asked, blinking at him. “Why does your neckl—Oh…” His words faded and he stared at Logan's collar.

Patton’s fingers now felt cool against his skin, shame burning over his face. Logan closed his eyes, waiting for whatever Patton might say, whatever judgement might fall. He wasn’t sure what was worse, buying himself the collar and hiding it, having his secret revealed, or losing the key out of sheer clumsiness. All of it swirled together, spinning in his head until the blood roared in his ears and he imagined falling through a hole in the floor or washing himself down the drain just as sure as he’d—

“Lo.” His eyes snapped open and he stared back at his friend. Patton smiled at him, and when he spoke, his voice was low and soft. He pointed at another towel folded on the edge of the tub, creating a padded seat. When had Patton set that there? “Sit down for me, Lo.”

Nodding, Logan sat and Patton stood in front of him. “May I?” he asked, fingers hovering over the collar. Logan nodded again, but Patton simply waited, eyebrows raised.

“Y—yes,” he said, then cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

Smiling again, Patton smoothed his fingertips over the delicate silver band, then cradled the tiny heart affixed near the locking mechanism. Logan shivered at the gentle touch. “It’s lovely, Lo,” he murmured. “This stone is in both of our favorite colors, too.”

Logan nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat and his adam’s apple grazed against Patton’s knuckles with the movement.

Patton moved his hand then, cradling Logan’s face between his hands. “You’re scared,” he whispered and Logan avoided his gaze. “Oh, Lo, were you afraid I wouldn’t like it?”

“What?” Eyes wide, Logan finally met his eyes again. “N—no… I… Well…”

“I think I can help you take this off,” he leaned close, squinting at the lock for a moment before a bright smile bloomed across his face. “I’ve locked myself out often enough to have picked up a few tricks from the locksmith.”

“You won’t have to break it?” Logan’s hand moved to the collar. While he was confident he could repair it—or find someone who could—just the thought of damaging the delicate metal made something deep under his breastbone ache.

“Only if you asked me to.” Still smiling, Patton stroked his cheek. “Wait for me here?”

“Of course.”

Patton pressed a kiss on his forehead then hurried out and down the hall. He rustled in the kitchen utility drawer for a minute, then returned with a set of tiny screwdrivers. “I think this will work. Lift your chin for me,” he murmured, directing Logan’s gaze up to the ceiling.

After a few moments of fidgeting, the quiet click of the lock disengaging filled Logan’s ears, followed by Patton’s quiet cheer. “Got it! Look!”

The collar seemed even more delicate in Patton’s hands, but he held it with the same care he’d used when helping Logan with the baby pigeons last spring. “Were you taking this off to protect it from your shower?”

Logan nodded. Was this when Patton would ask him not to wear it? Did he—

“Would you like me to help you put it back on again when you’re done?”

“You…” He wasn’t entirely certain he’d heard him correctly. “You don’t think it’s… odd?”

Patton smiled and shook his head. “It looks lovely on you.” His brow furrowed when Logan remained silent. “Do you wish it was still your secret? I can—”

“No.” The word spilled from his lips without his control but Logan knew it was true. “No, I… I like you knowing and…” His mouth clamped shut, cutting off his next thought before it, too, could break free and shatter whatever this fragile thing between them was.

“And?” Patton prompted. He smiled, but his voice told Logan he wasn’t getting out of this discussion without finishing his thought.

He looked down at the collar in Patton’s hands and closed their fingers over it. “And I’d like it if you helped me put it on,” he said more to his hands than anything else. "Even after I get a new key."

“Oh, Lo,” Patton murmured, wiggling one hand free to lift his chin. Impossibly, he was still smiling. “It would be my pleasure.”

#Where the Air is Sweet #ts logan #ts patton #logicality #Logan Sanders #Patton Hart #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #a little suggestive perhaps‚ if you squint‚ but strictly non-sexual

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