summary: Dean’s so needy, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. so, he doesn’t.
warnings: smut, p in v, sleeping sex
Dean masterlist
Dean just can’t wait. he’s so horny and hard for you. his hair was messy and his mind full of sleep. but fuck, was he needy. “y/n?” he whispered. no response. he tried dry humping the bed, touched himself, but nothing compared to the amazing feeling of being inside you. a few weeks ago, this same thing happened. you told him,
“Dean, you’re allowed to use me whenever. I don’t care if im asleep. I’d be more mad that youd be unsatisfied instead of using me to feel good.”
“that’s taking advantage of you.”
“It’s not if I’m giving you permission.”
he thought about it for a minute before his fingers were pulling your panties down your thighs and legs. his fingers slipped through your folds, checking how wet you were. enough to have him slip in. he took his boxers fully off and spread your legs with one hand as the other was used as a pillar to hold himself up, putting no weight on you. once he was comfortable, he slipped his hard, wet cock in your hole. whimpers left his mouth as he lowered himself deeper. he started pumping in and out, immediately feeling so much better than his hand.
a lazy, satisfied smile spread across his face as he rocked his hips. he moaned a little too loud, which made you shift around. he blinked hard and his eyes rolled back as you started rolling your hips along.
-your pov-
I thought I was dreaming about being railed. which made no sense because my dream already going on had nothing to do with that, so it couldn’t be. I opened my eyes and saw my pretty boy, Dean on top of me. he was a sweaty moaning mess. I realized what was going on and started helping him finish.
“fuck, Dean. I’m here baby.” I gasped. he looked down at me and ran his fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait.” he said with his mouth wide open and a glowing face. “don’t be sorry. just cum. I’ll help you.” I replied while reaching for his body, to pull it closer to mine. his moans picked up and his thrusts got sloppy. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him as deep as he can go. “shit princess. I’m so close.” he whined against my neck. “I know baby, let go.” I replied while grinding against him even more.
within seconds, his hot, warm cum filled my stomach as i reached my own high, riding out our orgasms at the same time. he slowed his hips and gently pulled out.
he plopped down on my chest as we both took time to catch our breaths. “you good now?” I asked with a slight smile.
“oh yeah. so good.”
A/N: guys I’m half awake so I’m sorry if there’s errors.
husband!dean with the same high sex drive he’s had since college but having to tone it down because he has kids running around everywhere
DANGEROUSLY IN LOVE
fluff / smutty | not proof read lol | i'm so sorry this short & shit, written this at 3am 😭 | I NEED THIS WITH HIM, I NEED THIS WITH HIM, I NEED THIS WITH HIM, I NEED THIS WITH HIM | camellinia's pin
i can imagine… dean has been even more unbelievable after having kids with a sex drive like his. he does attempt to feel you up at given moment when he can.
majority of nights and days consist of, lazily humping each other in the middle of the night, dean feeling you up from behind when you're cooking in the kitchen, locking the bedroom doors at night to dean frantically dropping off the kids at hannah's and garrett's door with a note because they're free all week to babysit so you guys can...
you do have an inside joke with how much hornier he's been since the kids, you genuinely thought he was ovulating as some point...
but it became hell, whenever it was date night or you simply got ready for the day. slipping on the dress? he's slooooowly slipping it off, eating dinner with him? his mind is in the gutter, walking in front of him? he wants to bend you over so badly.
there's definitely been multiple times where he's told the kids off to not come into the room or leave you guys alone, but you're always swatting him with, "dean, pull yourself together!" while you laughed at him!
Warnings/From me: I feel like it's not summer without them. SEXTRA!!! all smut no plot. 18+ only (as is the rest of this story)
Summary: I think there’s a hot guy in the outdoor shower
Yeah? Why don’t you go check, then
Are you sure? What if he needs help showering or something?
Guess you’ll have to help.
Harry loved jogging in the morning around the sandy neighborhood. It wasn’t quite sunrise, but he kissed the pretty girl in his bed on the temple even though she didn’t move when he slowly climbed out of bed. He didn’t want her to get up yet. Wanted her to sleep as long as she could.
It had been a very long year. A good year, but a long one. Harry was thrilled they lived together all the time. It was a dream come true coming home to her each night and having dinner with her, rather than FaceTiming her while she ate.
He loved the sounds she made when he made her come after a long day at work. He loved holding her hand at soccer games they watched with students that used to have her years ago only for Harry to have them five years later.
Harry was practically grinning like an idiot as he jogged down the streets. The early birds of the tourist town drove around him cautiously. Bikers rang their bell in warning they were on his right. Only a few people from around town who had known her for years now waved to Harry in recognition.
It felt like home.
Or maybe it was just her that made him feel this way.
He returned after a while, sweaty and tired. For the first week of summer, they spent it at the Sea-View. Mainly because it was tradition, back to the summer they met one another and it was important for their history that they spend it there even if it was the only week they got in the cute little cottage.
Instead of heading inside, he went to the backyard. He was already without a shirt since the air was still thick from the day before. By the back slider, he kicked his trainers and socks off; he would bring them in after his shower.
Of all the special things, places, and bucket list items she told him about that first summer, the outdoor shower was the one he treasured most. For many reasons. But mainly, because as always, she was right. It was extremely enjoyable to come home from the hot sun and cool off right outside. But she was even more accurate about how nice the post-run outdoor shower was.
Harry turned the water on lukewarm at best and shed his shorts in the outer part of the shower where there was a nice little ledge to keep things dry alongside his and her towel hanging there on hooks. He took his phone and put it on the upper little shelf where she stored extra bottles of shampoo and conditioner for guests so they wouldn’t be without.
He stepped under the spray and sighed. It was relaxing, peaceful, and exactly what he was looking forward to the entire time he ran that morning. It was thrilling he was so lucky to live this kind of life. He tilted his head back and turned his neck from side to side, stretching a bit as the water cooled him off. The smell of the ocean was also thick in the air and it really felt like a dream to be this lucky.
His phone pinged quietly, interrupting the sound of the birds chirping away over the sound of the water running. Normally he’d ignore it, but he was able to squint just enough from the shower to see that the pretty cartoon sun emoji was texting him.
He stepped away, patting his hands on his towel before he took hold of the phone.
Are you back from your run?
Yes, kitten. You need something?
He watched the three dots appear on screen briefly and then disappear as her next message popped up. I think there’s a hot guy in the outdoor shower
Harry smiled, glancing toward the window, wondering if she could catch a glimpse of him from the bedroom. It was too early for her to be awake, but if she was awake, he may as well do something about it. Yeah? Why don’t you go check, then
Are you sure? What if he needs help showering or something?
Harry felt his dick twitch. Guess you’ll have to help.
Harry put his phone back without waiting for her response. He turned toward the water again and pumped a bit of shampoo onto his hand. He lathered for a moment, closing his eyes while he rinsed. Finally, he heard the softest knock on the shower enclosure’s door. He finished rinsing out the suds and stepped back toward the door to let her in.
Harry was pretty confident the neighbors weren’t awake yet, so he opened the door a little wider than he would after the beach in the middle of the day. Her eyes dropped to his dick before going back to his face. He didn’t blame her. Anytime she was naked he had to remind himself he couldn’t only stare at her pretty body. Instead, he smirked at her. “Hi, angel.”
Her face flushed, and she shook her head as she caught herself ogling him. “Morning,” she murmured and stepped inside before Harry reached behind her to close and lock the door again. “Good run?”
“Better now,” his gaze started at her feet and slowly rolled up her legs, pausing to admire the way her very short sleep-shorts brushed against her pretty, tanned thighs. Harry wasn’t a controlling boyfriend, but he would never let her wear those shorts in public. They left too little and too much to the imagination. He knew exactly what men would be imagining if they saw her pretty thighs like that, barely covered. In some ways, it was worse than her bathing suit.
His dick got harder.
He continued scanning her, marveling at the small tank top that barely covered her nipples, and he only really knew they were barely covered that because he could see them poking through the fabric. Begging, aching to be touched and sucked by him.
“I was right,” she said softly.
His face finally lifted to meet her pretty eyes and lips. “Always are, love,” he grinned, turning his back to the water to run over his back while he appraised her again. His eyes wandering slowly over all her pretty skin like the first scan wasn’t enough. As if he didn’t get to see her every day now. Like he hadn’t been inside her less than twelve hours ago. “What about this time?”
“There’s a really hot guy in the shower.”
Harry chuckled, grabbed the center of her tank top and pulled, so the fabric slid between her tits. Harry tugged her toward him, getting her clothes wet. Although, he had a feeling her shorts might have already been wet before she got under the water.
“Heard he needs help,” Harry mumbled and dropped his head to suck one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. He grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin making her shiver. He watched her squeeze her thighs close together, the way she couldn’t seem to help when she was turned on. Even though it drove Harry insane and he begged her not to do it—especially in public. But here, in the privacy of their shower, he would allow it. He groaned quietly; mindful that the neighbors would be able to hear if they weren’t careful. He turned to her neglected nipple and made sure to give it the equal attention it deserved.
“Wh—what,” she took a deep breath, trying to concentrate but her hand went to the back of his hair, diving into the wet strands she squeezed slightly, silently asking for him to nibble and suck harder. He sighed again with relief, as more blood rushed to his dick. She tilted her head back, allowing him better access to her pretty body. “With what?” She was breathless.
Harry pulled away and all but ripped her tank top over her head. His dick was aching already, begging to be inside her. He wanted to see her lips wrapped around his cock and he didn’t care which set of her lips got the job.
Gently, Harry tugged her shorts down the pretty legs he admired just moments ago. He crouched a bit to help her step out of the material and he sighed with relief once more, as there was no underwear to take off as well. He kept her close and tilted her hips, spread her legs apart just so. Carefully, he slid his dick in between her thighs, grazing slowly against her soft, wet pussy. She gasped quietly. “Jus’ this,” he murmured. It felt insanely good and it hadn’t been that long since he’d had her wrapped around him anyway, but it always felt like it had been ages and sliding along her or into her always made his body feel better. Better than the shower could ever make his achy muscles feel.
With his hands on her hips, he gently shifted her back and forth making her slide along his length. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned again.
“Harry,” she whined. “Don’t tease.”
“Y’said y’wanted t’help, kitten,” but he was almost clenching his teeth for the teasing he was causing for himself. He very well could have made it stop. Fortunately, she didn’t want to wait for him to figure that out. She pushed gently away and dropped down in front of him so she was knelt on the soft wood that was over the loose stone floor. “Love,” he choked out, he didn’t want her to feel like she had to do this. Didn’t want to hurt her pretty knees either. “We can jus—”
“No, I want to help,” she insisted, grabbing him around the base so swiftly, he could only hiss in response to her touch. His eyes closed almost reflexively. He leaned back against the side wall of the enclosure. He reached and tilted the showerhead away from her because he didn’t want the water to go up her nose or something.
Her mouth was going to be full, so she was going to need to breathe somehow.
Harry’s head fell back into the wall he was leaning on, as her lips wrapped around him. She dragged her mouth over him, trying to take as much as possible down her throat. How did he go so long without her in his life? How did they spend that first year apart like that? He could feel the pleasure from his toes to the top of his head. His breath was ragged—not even the way it was while he was running. One hand he squeezed into a fist, he refrained from pounding on the wall—only because he didn’t want to wake the neighbors or alert them to the naughty things they were doing in the backyard.
He gently twined his fingers through the back of her hair. If the pleasure allowed him to open his eyes, he knew they would be rolling back into his head. “S’good, baby,” he managed, glancing down at the pretty girl on her knees for him. “Thank you,” he sighed heavily. “Feels so good,” he mumbled and knocked his head back again trying not to finish too quickly.
He knew her lips would look good wrapped around him. They always did. There was something special about her—every inch of her body felt like it was made for him. All her curves molded perfectly to fit the way his hands held her, the way his dick felt inside her. She was his pretty sun-goddess and he was incredibly lucky to have her.
“Ahh,” he moaned as her head bobbed low once more around him. “Baby, need you t’stop if y’want—”
She sighed. Sweetly. Like he told her that she was pretty. Which she was. But it was almost innocent and didn’t match that her lips were practically at the base of his cock. He could almost feel her throat flexing around him just like when her pussy was wrapped around him.
He grunted, hitting the side of the wall with his closed fist. “Kitten, please,” he begged. For what he wasn’t sure. For her to stop. For her to continue. It didn’t actually matter. He was so turned on, so hard, and so obsessed with her that he was confident he could come down her throat and then turn her around to fuck her without pause.
Her mouth was warm, soft, and her little breaths as she tried to take him all the way down to the base were going to haunt his dreams and he was so grateful for it. She was so sexy. His personal sun-goddess. He didn’t know how he could ever leave this shower.
“Baby,” he tried again, a little more urgency in his tone because the way she bobbed up and down so quickly, thoroughly, Harry wasn’t much longer for this early morning escapade.
Harry loved the little sunshine town that introduced him to her. He adored that cottage as much as she did. But he was certain that heaven was wherever she was and whichever pair of lips she wanted to wrap around his cock.
“Fuck,” he groaned, holding her head in place when he couldn’t take it anymore. Her mouth was too wet, too warm, and the pressure that she had around him as she made deliciously sexy noises while she took him in her mouth was too much. His body spasmed with the first shock of his orgasm. Ever so slightly, he thrusted his hips as she kept him in between her lips. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her pretty mouth or throat when she was so lovely for doing it in the first place. She moaned softly as she swallowed around him making an obscene slurping noise as she pulled away from him but swallowed all his cum anyway.
Still gasping harder than his jog, he watched her sit back on her heels, also gasping for more air. Harry crouched immediately in front of her, cupping her face and pressing his forehead to hers. “You did so good, baby,” he hummed and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Felt so good, you’re so good t’me, kitten.” She smiled shyly, almost innocently. Like she hadn’t just had his cock halfway down her throat. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes a little shiny. “Thank you,” he mumbled and pressed his lips over hers. “Can I return the favor?”
She shook her head. “Can you just be inside me?” She asked quietly, almost nervously. Like he would ever deny her such a thing.
He was right. He was already getting hard again. It seemed almost impossible. It should have been… but she was so pretty, so good he just wanted to live between her legs—his dick, his face, his fingers—however he had to. “Whatever y’want, kitten. Of course. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly at him while he helped her to stand. Her knees were a little red from the pressure of kneeling on them. He wrapped one arm around her waist, still cupping her face, brushing the water and the hair he messed with a bit too much out of her pretty face. “Are you okay? Do y’need some water, baby?” He asked.
She shook her head. “No, I just—”
But Harry knew how she got when they had sex. Overwhelmed; that was it. He couldn’t blame her. It was intense, warm, loving; it was perfect. It was an overwhelming moment, and he didn’t want to push or rush her at all. It was sweet and he would do whatever he had to do to make her feel safe with him. “Jus’ take a second, kitten.”
“But I don’t want to,” she reached for his dick and wrapped her pretty hand around it. Part of her nail polish was chipped off but the ocean blue on her fingertips but still looked so lovely against his most sensitive skin. He thought he would be happy to drown in the color.
He groaned quietly, his eyes falling half shut as she tried to distract him. She was good, it was almost working. But he wanted her to be in the right headspace before he fucked her hard. “I know, baby. We don’t have t’stop,” he lifted her chin and pressed his mouth softly over hers. “Jus’ breathe,” he hummed, keeping his lips just softly brushing over hers as he spoke. Carefully, he pulled the water fully back over them. It was still lukewarm by some miracle. Slowly, he moved his hand down her body and slid it between her thighs, looking for the spot that he loved to lick and circle as much as possible to make her fall apart.
She whimpered when he touched it.
He pressed his lips to her temple. “Shh…baby,” he hummed quietly. “We can’t wake the neighbors, kitten. Don’t want them t’know how good you feel.”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate while turning toward him. Harry used his other hand to rub his thumb across her lip before kissing it gently. “Jus’ need a second,” he was pretty much completely hard again, he was just worried he’d be a bit sensitive if he fucked her right then. “You’re so beautiful, love,” he mumbled and dropped his mouth to the curve of her neck. “Jus’ beautiful.”
He moved both hands to the outside of her thighs. “Harry,” she whispered nervously. “I’m too—”
“Too beautiful?” He asked, cutting off any question of insecurity she could utter. Instead, he scooped her up so her back was pressed to the vinyl enclosure the way he was while she knelt in front of him and sucked him off. “I agree, s’making me crazy,” he mumbled and lowered her until her center lined up with the tip of his dick. She clung to him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His hands held just below her pretty bum, massaging the back of her thighs as best he could. He used the pressure of the enclosure to help him balance her up around his hips. He was so intoxicated by her and so mesmerized, it was truly a miracle he was able to stand and breathe. He was grateful that the primal part of his brain that was about start fucking into her and take over. He wouldn’t have to worry about anything else except making her feel good.
Gently he nudged inside. She whimpered quietly again while he sank into her. Harry sighed deeply, burying his face into the curve of her neck again. “Fuck, baby.”
“Harry,” she whined.
“Shh… I know, baby. I know.”
She threaded her fingers into his hair as Harry pumped into her. The lock on the shower door clicking metallically with each thrust. “It’s—” But Harry could feel her body reacting to him already, tiny pulses each time he pressed in deep.
“Fuck, love,” he repeated. It seemed unfair that he was going to come twice and she’d only get one orgasm (Harry would have to make it up to her later). “Feels like heaven,” he mumbled. He pressed a line of kisses down her throat, down the swell of her breast and back to the pretty nipples he wanted to keep between his lips like a breath mint and suck and nibble on all day long.
“Harry!” She gasped softly.
“Shh, kitten,” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t want the neighbors to know how y’sound when y’come all over me.”
“Harry…” her voice was a little scratchier, like she was struggling to hang on. Harry knew the feeling. He couldn’t believe how much he loved this little shower—how much he loved her.
“Hold on baby,” he hiked her legs up and around his hips a little more and then gripped the top of the enclosure just under the full stretch of his arms. “Gotta make y’come,” he whispered, placing his lips to her collarbone in warm, soft kisses that wouldn’t leave any mark. Then he thrusted harder. Her breathy gasp came out with the slightest squeak, and she threw her hand over her mouth. “That’s it, baby. Just let me…” he dropped one hand back to behind her left thigh without breaking stride on his thrusts. “Fuck,” he whispered.
“Harry, I’m gonna come,” she warned breathlessly.
Harry covered her mouth with his and swallowed the moans as her body convulsed. He continued thrusting into her, it felt like they might go through the enclosure. Harry grunted as her orgasm went on and on, he imagined her squeezing those pretty thighs. It’s why he told her not to, every time. Because he knew that her body was pulsing around nothing when it could be pulsing around his cock like it was then.
Harry did everything he could to prolong it, but her body was his heaven, and he couldn’t last any longer. He pulled his hips away from her, dropped her legs, but didn’t let go of her as he shifted to the side of her body. With his hand stroking his erection one more time, slick from her cum and the shower, he let his orgasm tear through him. He tucked his face into her neck once more, nipping softly at the spot he loved kissing where her shoulder and throat connected. He kept her body close to his, but drowsily watched where his cum landed on the enclosure so he knew where to clean before the first renters showed up.
Slowly he let go of himself and kept her close to him. “How do you feel, baby?” He whispered kissing the top of her head.
“Good,” her voice was mostly air. He hummed softly, tucking her beneath his chin. One arm wrapped around her waist, and the other hand cupped the back of her head. “You?” She asked into his clavicle.
Harry smiled. “Perfect, angel. Don’t worry ‘bout me.” She nodded against his chest, and he could feel the pulse of her squeezing her thighs together. “Don’t do that t’me baby,” he moaned quietly. Almost like he was whispering.
“It feels so good,” she whispered back an ache in her voice like she wasn’t finished yet.
Briefly he worried it was bad for his reproductive health to remain this hard and this turned on so often and constantly. But it couldn’t be. It was just the pretty girl, his pretty, sunshiney girl making him flustered. “Let’s go upstairs,” he suggested.
She nodded. “Your legs must be tired,” she pouted.
“M’fine, kitten. Could fuck you like that all day, no problem.”
She giggled ever so slightly and Harry smirked. “I love you so much. You’re so fucking beautiful, baby it almost hurts.”
She tucked her face into his chest. “I love you, too.”
“M’gonna grab your towel, okay?” He reached behind her to turn the faucet to off. Then he gently placed her on her feet then moved away from her. She pouted as he turned right back to wrap her up. “What’s the frown for, kitten?” He asked but already knew why.
“I hate when you leave me.”
“Two feet to grab your towel?” He draped it around her shoulders.
She shrugged. “I spent too much time apart from you.”
He kissed her forehead, cupped the tops of her shoulders so his thumbs brushed each side of her neck. “You’re so precious, love.”
She smiled shyly and Harry scooped her up like she was a bride. “Hey!”
He ignored her protest and tilted her slightly so she could grab the discarded clothes and his phone. Once in her possession, Harry unlocked the shower. “Harry, your towel! What about the neighbors?”
He shrugged. “S’long as you’re covered.”
She rolled her eyes. “They’ll all be jealous,” she warned.
“That m’holding a freshly fucked sun goddess? Yeah. I don’t blame them.”
“No, of how massive—“
“Hey!” He nipped at her earlobe. “S’a secret.”
“Harry, anyone who looks at you knows you have a massive dick.”
He carried her inside as if she weighed nothing. She dropped the items on the counter once inside and he placed her back on her feet. Before she could fully get her bearings, he yanked her towel away. He scanned her again, once more like he hadn’t seen her naked in ages and not less than a minute ago. “I think I’m the luckiest man alive, kitten,” he said knowingly. She flushed, the red of her cheeks pairing beautifully with her tan and tan lines. Harry wanted to lick every inch of her.
“That’s very sweet,” she answered. “I feel the same way about you.”
He grinned, tugged her toward him and cupped her face before kissing her swiftly again. “I owe you an orgasm.”
“We can’t owe each other orgasms, Harry. That’s not how a relationship works.”
“I agree, so let me make you come on my tongue.”
She giggled. “Harry.”
“Baby, m’not kidding,” he knelt in front of her. “Open,” he tapped her knee.
She sighed, leaning against the counter and spreading her legs apart. Harry started kissing up the length of her thigh. He moaned softly, louder than when he was outside. The layer of the house keeping the neighbors out was a little bit better. “I love this cottage,” she whispered.
--
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I would like for us to consider the way Shane probably crashes hard after each season.
I was that student in school who went overboard every semester. I’m talking color-coded notes, binders on binders of prep for exams, overly prepared for every contingency on the final. I earned my A’s, damnit. So when that last exam was done, the grades were in, and I could relax? Baby, I was down and out for at least a few days. Don’t call me or beep me if you wanna reach me. My phone is off. My leg’s half off the bed. My bonnet done came off—it’s halfway across the room. My mom has to wake me up to drink some water. I barely speak English. Huh? What? No sé. Je ne sais pas. I can’t do the words right now.
Whether the Cup is won or not, the end of the season is Shane’s equivalent of that last final exam. The months-long adrenaline rush is over. Pencils down, hit “submit,” you’re out of time. Shane’s always aiming for the A+ but time’s up, regardless of the grade. He can rest. He needs to rest.
Every year, Shane powers through an hour of his team’s post-season celebration before his eyelids start to droop. The physical, mental, social, and emotional pressures of the year have evaporated in an instant and fuck, how long has he been this exhausted? He goes back to his hotel room, gets a quick nap in, then makes his way to his parents’ place.
That’s when his strings get cut and he just drops.
The moment he’s through the door, he hugs his dad, kisses his mom on the cheek, then heads straight for his childhood bedroom and faceplants into familiar navy blue sheets. He’s out like a light before he hits the pillow. Yuna waits 5 minutes before she comes in to gently take his shoes off, plug his phone in on the dresser, and pull the blankets up to his chin. She tousles his hair and smiles at the way he nuzzles into her hand before she pulls away.
Shane’s dead to the world until dinner. He stumbles out of his room with one sock on, one arm out of his shirt, and eyes half unfocused. Nobody says anything; it’s pointless. Shane’s lost all ability to speak coherently. Any attempts at conversation will be met with gibberish. He’s physically exhausted and mentally fried. Cannot people right now. Try again later, please and thank you.
He allows David to guide him to the table and plops into his seat, blinking owlishly as Yuna sets a plate in front of him. He has to eat with his chin propped up on one hand, to avoid faceplanting into hot food. He can and has fallen asleep in his dinner before without so much as flinching.
David unapologetically takes advantage of the situation every year by making a carb-heavy dish. It’s usually pasta. He knows Yuna will back him up and give Shane seconds. And instead of arguing or making a face, Shane will eat every bite. He’s on autopilot and simply fulfilling basic bodily functions to address hungry-tired-thirsty-sleepy-feed me-take care of me as efficiently as possible.
After he clears his plate (at least twice), Shane smacks his lips and cringes. Good God, his mouth tastes like lasagna and death. Has he brushed his teeth today? He wordlessly makes his way to the bathroom and finds everything set up for a quick routine. Brush, pee, shower, brush again because he forgot he already did. If he has a quick cry, muffled by the shower, nobody says anything. Nothing’s wrong, but the emotional release is very much needed. Retainer in, stare at reflection in mirror for a bit, and right back to bed.
David comes in around midnight to leave a glass of water on the nightstand. He takes his turn to ruffle Shane’s hair and laughs softly at the muffled nonsense he gets in return. Realistically, Shane’s training unicorns to ballroom dance in his dreams and murmuring about their godawful adherence to accepted waltz standards with half the blanket in his mouth. David chooses to take that as “love you, Dad, thank you for tolerating me in my zombie state.”
When Shane wakes up the next afternoon, he accepts a cup of coffee, then looks blearily up at Yuna and utters the first words he’s consciously strung together since arriving the morning before. Usually, Yuna and David take bets on whether it’ll actually make sense. Last year it was: “Why is…cookies and cheese?” The year before was “I have no idea where dogs lie in keyboards for boats.” He always looks at them in confusion when they don’t answer, then chugs the rest of his coffee before putting his head down and napping a bit more.
This year, with Ilya still asleep in the navy blue sheets down the hall, dead to the world and snoring like a freight train, Shane comes up with something different.
“We have…tea for Ilya?”
David blinks. That’s…surprisingly coherent. Also, tea?
“Um,” Yuna responds. “We have green tea.”
“Mmm…no,” Shane yawns, jaw clicking as his mouth opens as wide as possible. “No caffeine in off-season. He gets…mm. No.”
None of them have noticed that the snoring’s stopped. As if on cue, Ilya stumbles into the kitchen—curls flat on one side of his head, eyes barely open, and creases from the sheets imprinted on his face and chest. His sweatpants are on backwards, but it’s highly unlikely he notices.
Yuna and David have a silent conversation as Ilya plops himself into Shane’s lap, grabs his coffee, takes a sip, and makes a face like someone just insulted his mother. He whines pitifully and flops back into Shane, who buries his face in Ilya’s neck and promptly falls asleep again.
“This is too cute,” David says with his eyes. “They’re like drunk toddlers.”
Yuna nods jerkily toward the table at their cell phones. “Take a picture, take a picture!”
idk if y'all are familiar with the concept of a renaissance faire that has a beer stand where you can pay to get publicly dommed by the bar wench. but.
(1.5k words)
shane has no idea why they're even fucking here. some bullshit about turkey legs and sexy women's jousting, maybe.
he trails reluctantly behind his college teammates as they trudge down the dirt path, narrowly avoiding bumping into dozens of renfaire goers in various stages of costume undress and drunkenness. this is not a jock environment. shane is dressed in plain clothes, and has no clue how to react to all the vendors putting on vaguely medieval european accents. he is overall entirely out of his element.
they approach the bar, which is more like a cozy beer booth decorated with fake vines and nautical chains. hayden and jj jump in line. this is good. maybe if he gets a beer in him, this whole experience will suck a little less.
jj nudges him in the ribs hard and directs his attention to the guy dressed like a pirate buying a beer at the front of the line. the woman behind the bar, in a blouse and corset that greatly accentuates her chest, coos something vaguely encouraging at the guy and guides his hands upwards to grip the looped metal chains hanging from the ceiling of the booth.
with the guy's hands held above his head, shane watches incredulously as she holds his face gently by the chin and proceeds to pour the beer directly into his open mouth. a couple cheers from the group surrounding him seem to indicate that this is normal? she praises him in that silly fake renfaire accent, gradually guiding the cup upwards until the guy has finished the beer. he releases his hands from the chains and steps back, flushed and laughing with the woman and his friends.
shane feels vaguely dizzy at the display. his eyes dart nonsensically to the menu, which lists the prices for beer and a few non-alcoholic drinks. at the bottom of the menu it lists the raised price of the "bar wench/bar rake special." shane blinks hard.
the line moves. "that's fucking hilarious," hayden says, and shane nods absently and tries to ignore the stirring in his gut. he doesn't see jj and hayden exchange a mischievous look over his head.
too soon, they're at the front of the line. shane turns to see if his teammates want to order together or separately, but he's shoved up against the front of the bar before he can get a word in.
"he'll take the bar rake!" jj jeers, slapping the bills down on the counter. hayden shakes shane's shoulders from behind as if hyping him up. the wench barely bats an eye at the obnoxious display of mild bullying. she takes one look at shane's tomato red face and gives him an endeared pet on the head.
"one bar rake, coming right up!"
shane doesn't get the opportunity to question what a 'rake' even means in this context, because suddenly there's a man in front of him. a man shane hadn't noticed when he'd been doing something behind the bar with his back turned, but was absolutely noticing now.
tall, scorching hot, moles dotting his handsome face and dirty blond hair curling behind his ears. a muscular physique visible through a semi-sheer white chemise. stunning pale eyes narrowed like a predator assessing his prey. the rake smirks at him a little viciously and shane can't even muster up a stuttered refusal.
the rake leans over and grabs shane by the wrists, pulling his arms up over his head until his fingertips reach the chains. his touches are rougher than the wench's had looked. shane fumbles until he's gripping them tightly in his sweaty hands. he feels uniquely vulnerable, at this man's mercy. shane has a sinking feeling he's not going to get any.
he's distantly aware that hayden and jj might be catcalling this display right now. he prays they aren't filming this. the wench passes the rake a tall plastic cup of ale. shane watches with wide eyed baited breath as the rake takes a moment to seemingly stare directly into shane's soul. assessing him like a bug under a microscope. fuck. he might be getting hard.
the rake switches the cup to his left hand, and his presumably dominant right hand wraps around shane's throat. not tight enough to restrict his breathing, but a solid grip that makes shane freeze like a statue. the man leans in, murmuring closer to shane's ear.
"open."
fuck. shane is definitely getting hard. his jaw drops with zero hesitation. he barely manages to keep his tongue in his mouth with the way he wants to pant. this is insane. they're in public.
"good boy."
he can pick out the accent as a genuine one, likely slavic. undeniably sultry. shane squeaks, or whines, or makes some other humiliating noise that's a little too loud while he's open mouthed. the rake grins and hums like he's very pleased. the rim of the cup is pressed to shane's pouty bottom lip, and then the cup gets tilted and shane's mouth is flooded with ale he has no choice but to swallow.
it's a heavy pour, shane notices. the cup is filled to the brim and probably counts for two beers. it's a fairly light ale, though, and goes down without too much difficulty.
the stream of liquid isn't steady. the rake, perhaps purposefully, switches between pouring at a thin trickle and flooding shane's throat with a long splash of the drink. keeping him on his toes and prolonging the suspense. shane gasps desperately whenever he is afforded a moment to inhale. he imagines drowning under that hand.
shane is completely hard and dripping into his boxer briefs.
his mouth gets even closer to shane's ear, and the voice drops to a low whisper. quiet enough that nobody in the chattering crowd can hear, fucking hopefully.
"there you go, good little slut. just needed someone to take charge, hm? good thing it was me. i know just how to treat filthy boys like you. mmm, slower. that's it. would you swallow my cock this nice? bet you would love it if i bent you over this bar and took your tight little hole in front of all these people. whore."
shane doesn't have the leverage to nod his head, but he tries to squirm in agreement. a shudder wracks his body. the rake pulls back, and the intense eye contact is intoxicating. shane has maybe never felt this helpless before. he's completely obsessed. he's probably batting his lashes at the man like he hung the moon. drops of ale dribble down his chin.
"messy puppy."
shane almost chokes. the rake shushes him, a patronizing coo that goes straight to shane's cock. the hand wrapped around his throat flexes. the cup is eventually lowered, and shane realizes with a rush that it's now empty.
the man stays firmly in shane's personal space, demanding his full attention.
"all done. what do you say?"
"thank you," shane manages. this earns him a pleased smile. he feels hands around his wrists again, and oh. right, he sort of forgot about his arms. he was holding the chain of his own free will, but this still feels like being untied. shane returns his arms to his sides and clears his throat. he hopes jj forked over enough cash so shane doesn't have to pull his wallet out. he braces himself for the rake to wave him off for the next customer.
"i go on break at 1."
a clear invitation. his voice sounds amused and maybe a bit heated. it also sends reality slamming back into shane like a cannonball. he's tipsy, or maybe just drunk off this man, and rock hard at 11 in the morning. his teammates are waiting for him.
how is he supposed to trudge after them for the next five minutes, let alone two hours, at full mast?
the rake doesn't prompt him for a response. the hand that had once held his throat touches his cheek in something between a pat and a light smack. teasing. he thinks through his soupy brain that he can hear the bar wench giggling.
shane steps away with great reluctance. a quick glance shows that jj and hayden had seemingly gotten bored of humiliating him, and bought beers from a separate line. they sit at a picnic table a few meters away, shooting the shit while they wait for shane to wrap up the most transformative sexual experience of his life.
he lets himself look at the man one more time. he's still being watched. predator eyes flick off to the side with intent. shane tries to follow their direction with a head that feels stuffed with cotton.
a porta potty.
unideal for a risky public hook-up. is that what they're doing? shane is still reeling. shane is still a virgin. the location is disgusting. but if that's the only option...
shane subtly adjusts his black joggers and walks back to his teammates like he's waddling through molasses. he glares at his watch and prays that time starts moving faster.
warnings: spanking, bondage, edging with vibrator, use of pet names (lovie, bunny, baby), mean h & bratty y/n
summary: after not seeing harry for a week, a needy and bratty y/n goes against harry’s commands and touches herself without permission. so when he gets home, he punishes her for exactly that.
a/n: i’m so so sorry this took so long. i got i think 4 requests that were about y/n getting punished so i combined all the ideas, so thx for those requests :) i actually really like this one and i hope you like it too!
“Hi, baby,” Harry spoke through the phone, sounding slightly out of breath.
The sound of his voice— raspy and a little tired— it made her belly tingle with butterflies more than she’d ever admit.
Y/N was laid in bed in her and Harry’s shared bedroom, comforter pulled up to her chin, tossing and turning every few minutes.
“Hi.” She smiled a little, her feet squirming under the sheets like a teenage girl. “How was the show?”
Her body was nearly buzzing with need.
The air conditioning kept the room cold, everywhere except between her legs.
It was unbearable.
Harry was still at the venue. She knew his show had only just finished, so he probably wouldn’t get home for another hour, maybe. That was if he left right away. But she needed him so bad. An hour at minimum was way too long.
“It was amazing. Kept looking for you in the crowd every song even though I knew you weren’t there,” he said.
She frowned. “I wish I was.”
Y/N planned to go to every show she possibly could, but this week she had to attend her cousin’s wedding, which she obviously couldn’t miss. She had a lot of fun and bonded with family and friends she hadn’t seen in a while, but throughout the whole event, she wished Harry was there to help soothe some social anxiety. He was always best at that.
“I know. But I’m coming home now. About to get in the bus.”
A soft sigh left her lips. She couldn’t even survive just a week without him.
“You okay, lovie?” He asked gently, practically hearing that pretty pout through the phone.
“Yeah,” she lied. “I just miss you. A lot.”
“I know, baby. I miss you too. I’m gonna see you so soon, yeah? Then I’ll never have to leave you again for that long.”
Her thighs squeezed together, the ache growing stronger.
“Harry…” she breathed. “I— I need you.”
There was a moment of silence.
“I’m not alone right now, Y/N.” His voice came out as a warning, trying to tell her ‘now’s not the best time’ without actually saying it aloud. “Give me a— hold on.”
She nearly whimpered with frustration. All she could hear now were muffled voices, indicating he had pulled the phone away from his face.
Her fingers finally slid between her thighs, barely giving her any relief.
If Harry were there, he’d know exactly how to take care of her.
But no. She had to wait an hour.
“Bunny.” He spoke, gaining all of her attention immediately. “Stop touching yourself.”
She froze.
Of course he knew.
“…What?”
“I’ll take care of you when I get home. But do not even think about doing that yourself.”
The frown that curved on her face was immediate, her fingers stilling above her underwear.
“But I need you, H,” Y/N spoke, voice a little whiney.
“I know you do. But be good for me, okay? You can wait a little bit, baby.” He cooed, softer now.
So soft that it made her want to listen… but the other half of her really needed that pleasure now.
“Can’t you just talk me through it? Please?” She asked, trying not to let the slight disappointment in her expression bleed through her voice too.
“Y/N.”
Her stomach twisted. That damn tone always got her. The one that made her really fucking wet, but also intimidated.
“Please…” she whispered, head plopping back against the pillow defeatedly.
“I said no. Wait for me, and I’ll give you what you need, all night long. Keep this up and you’re getting nothing. I’ll go to sleep while you’re aching and empty.”
She huffed, her vision getting a little blurry from a thin line of tears.
It wasn’t fair. She waited so patiently all week, and he couldn’t even help her out? And it’s not like he couldn’t have her again when he got home. He was doing this just to be mean, she decided.
“I’ll be so quick though. I just—”
Harry interrupted her, “Ask me one more time, and it’s a no for the rest of the night. Stop it, bun.”
Y/N yanked her fingers away from herself with frustration, her thighs squeezing together almost immediately. He’s been demanding like this before, but never when it came to this. He was always willing to help her out, so she didn’t understand why he wasn’t tonight.
“…Whatever,” she murmured quietly, barely audible.
His jaw tightened.
“Don’t start with me.”
“M’not starting anything.”
“Bullshit.” He cursed. “Would you really rather getting spanked instead of taken care of? Answer me.”
She sniffled. “…No.”
“Then cut the fucking attitude and be patient.”
His words caused more tears to rise in her eyes, unconsciously turning her face into the pillow a little as if he were here and staring down at her. As much as she hated when he was annoyed like this with her and she didn’t want it to continue, she was also a little angry. A small part of her wanted to keep pushing him. Not for the consequences, but simply to make him feel as frustrated as she was.
But that never ended in her favor, did it?
“I’m leaving now.” He said.
“Okay, I love y—”
He hung up.
In the middle of her saying she loved him.
Her lips parted with shock and anger, fingers tightening around her phone.
What an ass.
She took a deep breath, though the sad frown on that was on her face turned into a scowl, brows pushed together. She then went onto their messages, typing out a text she’d surely regret later.
Y/N: i’m not waiting for you then.
Then she silenced her phone, placed it face down on the nightstand, and let her fingers travel down her stomach and into her heated, damp panties.
-
It didn’t take long for Y/N to cum, considering how long it’s been since she’s had an orgasm and how much she needed it.
But the second she finished, her stomach curled with anxiety for what was to come for her.
She was too terrified to look at her phone.
The TV failed at trying to distract her. She just laid there and stared at it, completely zoned out.
And then she heard the front door open.
Oh shit.
Maybe if she pretends to be asleep, he won’t do anything.
Or maybe if she apologizes right away and offers him something.
While she’s debating what to do, his heavy footsteps were heard coming up the stairs.
Too late.
Their bedroom door opens, and a stoic looking Harry walks in.
Sexy. Too sexy.
He’s changed out of his stage clothes and into something more comfortable, black sweatpants and a sweatshirt, that type of outfit the world doesn’t typically see when he’s out on his walks, something more reserved for someone like her.
He doesn’t rush to do anything. He doesn’t even say anything yet.
He just walks in slowly, eyes landing on hers for a moment before turning away. Harry slips off the tote bag hanging from his shoulder and places it on the dresser, not saying a single word.
It heightened her nerves.
“Y’look nervous, bunny.” He didn’t look at her.
She swallowed.
When he finally turned to her, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the dresser, his brows pinched and jawline sharp.
Jesus.
“Don’t have anything else to say?” He raised his eyebrows, challenging her.
She hesitantly shook her head, unsure if she should answer.
“…No.”
“Hm. Figured.” Harry pushed off the dresser and slowly stalked towards her.
Once he was stood at the edge of the bed, he stroked his fingers through her hair, not at all harshly but rough enough to make her head tug back slightly. Y/N’s eyes were big and full of regret when they were forced to meet his.
“Harry, I’m sor—”
“Shut up.”
She shut up. Right away.
Her eyes stung, embarrassed by the tears starting to form.
His hand dropped from her soft strands, eyes scanning her body like he was deciding what he was gonna do to her.
“What’d you think was gonna happen, hm?” He tilted his head. “Did you expect me to just let you disobey me? Let you be a fuckin’ brat?”
Her bottom lip quivered, eyes falling to her lap.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes snapped back up.
“You know better.” He said. “And you know what happens when you do that, too.”
Punishment.
Even though she knew it was coming, her heart dropped.
She felt so small sitting there, both physically and emotionally. It was hard not to when Harry, a six foot tall man who was visibly burly, was standing right there in front of her, dominantly speaking down to her. Over something she knew would have consequences.
“Get on your stomach.”
His voice was gravely insistent, jaw sharp as a blade, tempting her to defy his order.
Y/N didn’t move. Her heart was hammering in her chest.
Harry gave her a single nod when she was still frozen after a moment.
“Don’t make me force you, baby.” He murmured, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you in over a week, and this is what I come home to? My sweet girl purposely going against my rules?” There was a pause. A moment to let the words sink in. “On your stomach. Now.”
She still didn’t move.
“Okay, then.”
She attempted to turn and crawl to the other side of the bed, but he grasped her ankle and shoved her down, one hand pushing down on the back of her waist while the other tangled in her soft hair and gently pushed her face down into the sheets.
The tears in her eyes spilled freely.
“No!” She cried, squirming under his grip.
“Calm down.”
After a moment, the hand that kept her face down lifted. That’s when she heard the jingle of his belt. Y/N cried harder at the thought of being spanked with the belt. That was her least favorite.
But instead, Harry grabbed both of her arms and snaked the leather around her wrists, binding them together.
“Stay. Do not move,” he ordered.
A small whimper escaped her lips, burying her face further into the sheets like she was trying to disappear.
Her tiny little sleep shorts were yanked down her thighs right along with her panties.
The second her bottom was bare, his hand came down.
She let out a muffled yelp into the pillow, tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes at a faster rate.
“Thought you took care of yourself? Why are you still this wet, huh?” He said mockingly, delivering another spank.
Y/N didn’t argue any further.
She just took it.
She continued to cry into the pillow, but still, she took it.
Another blow landed, his large hand spanning across both of her cheeks, the sting blooming over her entire bum.
“Ow!” She quavered.
“Be quiet.”
Harry kept spanking her, refusing to stop despite her cries. She needed this.
When he counted 12 spanks, he stopped.
The hand that caused the redness across her ass gently rubbed the inflamed skin, sliding up to her back and giving her a brief pat.
She heard him open a drawer on their nightstand, and the quiet sound made her stomach curl. That’s when she peeked and saw him pulling out the sleek, pink vibrator that could mean one of three things: either he was going to pleasure her (least likely), edge her, or overstimulate her with it.
Her eyes were big and glossy, the same look on her face that always made his heart clench. But he didn’t let it happen this time.
He could be sleeping right now with her in his arms.
But she decided to be a stubborn fucking brat.
The smooth, round head of the device nudged at her entrance and her hips bucked back against it instinctively.
He was silent.
A small click sounded in the room before the vibrations came to life, immediately stimulating her weeping pussy.
He circled it down to her clit, holding it against the bundle of nerves.
Her toes curled from the pleasure.
This was what she needed.
Her tears turned into whimpers, and her whimpers turned into moans. Her fingers curled around his belt wrapped around her wrists to give her something to hold onto.
After a few moments passed, and her hips began to rock against it subtly.
“H—Harry—”
He watched her body tremble, the small signs that told him she was getting close.
Right before her peak came— he abruptly pulled it away from her clit.
She gasped. “No…. No, please, I need it—”
“Did you really think I’d give it to you? After you already made yourself cum without permission?”
She whimpered.
“So don’t fucking beg. Because you don’t deserve to cum tonight, and you won’t.”
He waited until the desperate fluttering in her hips died down, letting every ounce of her orgasm slip away from her completely before he placed the vibrator back against her, watching it buzz against her slick heat.
Y/N sobbed into the pillow, overwhelmed by frustration.
As every orgasm was denied, it felt like hours had passed by. He kept on going.
Harry would hold it there until her thighs started shaking, her hole clenching desperately, and then he’d pull it back and do it all over again.
It was torture.
Once she was starting to get used to it— meaning her crying slowed down and her hips stopped chasing it— that’s when he decided she’s had enough.
He pulled back entirely and took a good look at the glistening juices between her trembling thighs. Her pretty pussy was dripping and obscenely swollen from all of the teasing. The small bundle of nerves was pulsing, desperate for stimulation and attention that wasn’t coming.
She looked wrecked.
When the vibrator turned off and the buzzing sound died down, her shoulders deflated with relief.
Harry gave a small pat to her reddened bottom.
He tucked the device back into the nightstand then turned his attention to her fully.
“Alright, baby,” he murmured quietly, untying the belt around her wrists.
She stayed quiet, face still tucked into the pillow, hiccuping now from all the crying.
“C’mere.”
He gently handled her to sit up on her knees, one large hand cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb across her soft skin.
“M’sorry…” she murmured, small and weak.
“I know you are, bunny. Had to learn though, yeah? If you waited for me, I would’ve been taking care of you. Not punishing you.” He spoke softly. “You know I don’t like having to do that.“
She gave a small nod. “Love you.”
He smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too. So much.” He said. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll cuddle all night. You can tell me all about the wedding. Sound good?”
there's a delicate balance between "seeing something on my dash so often i end up caring about it unexpectedly" and "seeing something on my dash so often that it gets added to the blocked list with extreme prejudice"
a video is circulating in the hockey fans community showing ilya and shane during a preseason practice. shane is drinking water in the corner of the rink near where the players sit during the game when ilya comes up from behind and wraps his arms around him and opens his mouth and shane lifts the bottle and squirts water into ilya’s mouth and ilya drinks it and kisses shane on the cheek and skates away. of course the video gets a ton of views online because everyone is obsessed with the hockey husbands. and harris is always extremely happy when they manage to capture these candid moments between ilya and shane
My desktop wallpaper cycles between these two images so every 10 minutes I am overwhelmed by the loss of my horse or overcome by the fear of its return.
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
kianamaiart
amandla
gamechangershow
ellievsbear
izzy806
