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૮₍ ´ jensenackles.com `₎ა
✶⋆.˚ ⋮ jensen ackles
photoshoot tension ── smut
✶⋆.˚ ⋮ beau arlen
ranch in the south ── fluff
✶⋆.˚ ⋮ dean winchester
profound desire for blood ── angst
nails — dominic fike.
warnings :: fluff, kissing, slightly suggestive, half painted hands. li’l tibit i love my man sm like atp were married w fourty sixty thousand kids (keep up 😞) and his music is so magestic.
the loud noise of his fans screamed for dominic to on stage already. they weren’t all to patience. but they’d have to wait for you, his pretty thing, you—and you were busy settling your legs inside of his as you settled in a seat across from him. it was definitely a last minute decision to paint his nails, although he didn’t mind. you were on his second hand, his other hands are settling comfortably on your thigh.
“c’mon, sweetheart.” dominic huffed. typically the fifteen minutes before concert were spent wishing him luck, telling him to break a leg. kissing up on you. he was practically itching to hold your face in his hands, to kiss you. to leave him and you wanting more as he left you to go on stage with nothing but the taste of your lips left on his. as you painted, dominic seemed to have been plotting so extracurricular attack, quickly, he muttered a “‘m so sorry for this, my angel—” before abruptly taking the nail polish out of your hands. you were almost finished with his index finger before his lips pressed against yours. his un-dried nails resting comfortably against your cheek as he brushed your beautiful hair away from your face.
your protest was cut short once the nail polish sat on a flat surface, your hands hovering over his face when he kissed you. you brushed his curly hair out of his face as it fell into his face. “dom—” you let out a soft little pleasure noise—dominic taking opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
“shh—shh.” he hummed softly, rubbing your cheek. your cut off protests, slowly became words molded together. “what did i say, sweetheart. shhh—” dominic breathed heavier than before., “—ya gonna need the energy. ‘specially after the concert.” god he was lucky you were inlove with him. or you’d have his head on a stake quicker than someone could stutter over a stupid tongue twister. his knee wedged it’s away inside of your legs, resting comfortably in it’s position.
your breath grew slightly sharper. panting, almost. “god, baby—i hate you.” you huffed with annoyance as his lips drew away, keeping his knee comfortably were it was before. “you know, i love you to.” dominic whispered as he pressed soft kisses against your neck.
the whole, gettin’ all hot and bothered was cut short whenever his assistant interrupted when she knocked on the door. dominic pushed your chair was a little bit, going to open the door. that’s when you knew it was time to let him go on stage, but you couldn’t help but want him to stay. longer, to help with your swollen lips. to make them worse. to explore, every inch on your body. but rather than that, he turned to you with a wink. “‘m gonna see you later.” and left after pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.