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19 July 2007 @ 08:40 pm
slow ride {Devon/Priestly}  
Title: slow ride
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Ten Inch Hero/Taking 5
Pairing: Devon/Priestly
Word Count: 707
Warnings: Sex
Disclaimer: If I owned them, the dvds would already be in my hands, dammit!
Summary: She grinned when his sideburns brushed along her cheek and giggled when his facial hair tickled her neck.
Notes: I haven't seen either of these movies. Hence the lack of plot. Goes out to vylentcrymz, 'cause without you, the awesomeness of Devon/Priestly might never have been born!


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Pale fingers traced the jagged outline of the dark tattoo. By now every line, every curve had become familiar to her touch.

She grinned when his sideburns brushed along her cheek and giggled when his facial hair tickled her neck. Priestly might look tough on the outside but he sure as hell turned her to mush on the inside.

"My room?" Devon asked, not even trying to suppress the smirk on her face.

"What's wrong with right here?"

"What if my parents come home?"

"If this goes anything like last night, we'll be done long before they get back. Unless someone can keep her excitement under control," he said, playfully jabbing a finger into her stomach.

"What? You did... that thing," she whispered as if the house had ears. He gave her that look, the one that said he called her bullshit. "Okay, so maybe it was the hair. The pink really took me by surprise!"

"Whatever you say, princess," he chuckled.

She opened her mouth to protest and he saw it as an opportunity to shut her up by cramming his lips against hers. Whatever she was about to say turned into a sigh as she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist.

He carried her up to her room, catching the door with his heel and swinging it shut. Her bare back hit the mattress and she didn't bother to notice where her discarded shirt landed after he tossed it over his shoulder.

Devon ripped open his flannel shirt, guiding it down his arms and letting it fall to the floor. She grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him down, bending him over her, so she could slip her tongue back into his mouth. His hand pushed down on the mattress next to her head, supporting himself so he didn't crush her.

His knee pressed against her warmth and almost as if in response she curled her fingers in his hair (green today) and moaned a barely decipherable, "Want."

She already had his jeans undone and pushed down his thighs. It didn't surprise her that he was going commando. At least not as much as it did their first time. He was wearing a kilt.

He growled into her ear; her signal to lift her hips so he could yank her pants off. Panties and all.

"Now," she panted, fingers digging into his hips and pulling him closer.

He paused in front of her, waiting, teasing, grinning. Her impatience got the best of her and she swung her legs around his waist, pulling him forward and thrusting him inside of her. A quiet whimper filled the room as she adjusted to him. She never felt so complete, so full, as she did with him.

He pushed in until he couldn't go any further and stayed there, her head swimming with nothing and everything all at once. Everything he did, every minute movement sent a shiver down her spine. So when his thumbs started rubbing circles on her hips, slow and hard, grabbing fistfuls the sheets was all she could do to keep from screaming.

He pulled out and thrust back in, painfully slow, repeating the process but picking up a little more speed each time. The ceiliing swirled and blurred when he settled into a steady rhythm. His hands slid under her backside, lifting her up and arching her back at just the right angle so when he thrust in again her vision exploded in a sea of colors.

Oh fuck, he was good.

She could still see his face, piercing and sideburns and those cute little freckles, even after she squeezed her eyes shut tight. The slick heat burning low in her stomach exploded, flooding through the rest of her body as her orgasm came crashing down. His hands on her back trembled, his body shaking as he came.

He collapsed on top of her, the two of them a mixed up mess of hot breath and sweat. She smirked at the dazed look in his eyes and the way his mohawk was all lopsided.

"You weren't kidding about that 'orgasm donor' thing," she panted.

He rolled over, positioning her on top, her hands on his chest.

"I better make sure it took."

**
 
 
 
vylentcrymz on July 20th, 2007 12:51 am (UTC)
afkalgjsljhs

NEW FAVOURITE PAIRING!

Oh man, they are so hot together. I can't wait for the films to come out so I can force you to fic them even more, babe! ;)

This was awesoooome. I still love you!
amus: tih: multi-priestlydyinganthem on July 20th, 2007 01:01 am (UTC)
DEVON/PRIESTLY FTW!!!

Eeeeeee, we needs these films like, yesterday. And once they do come out, then it's your turn to try some ficcing. Muahaha. ;)

*hugs* Thanks! And you know, I was thisclose to making this the fic where Priestly wears the kilt. Ah well. Next time?

I'm SO glad you liked this! I will forever be your Devon/Priestly fic slave. *bows to you*
the lady is a tramp: priestly!theladyscribe on August 1st, 2007 05:51 am (UTC)
Okay, I could've sworn that I already commented on this. Apparently I didn't, but whatever.

This was cute and hot and just kind of *guh*.

"You weren't kidding about that 'orgasm donor' thing," she panted.

*snort* Love!
amus: tih - devon/priestlydyinganthem on August 1st, 2007 06:16 am (UTC)
Heeee, thanks! You know, I honestly wasn't expecting anyone other than vylentcrymz to read this, since the whole ship is sort of our crazy way of pairing up Jensen and Alona (again). There will be more, definitely after seeing both movies and, you know, actually knowing the characters. Heh. Although I'm thinking of a fic where Devon's boyband wallshrine of d00m might sort of distract Priestly. For awhile, anyway. :P

Also? PLASTIC!PRIESTLY!! Your icon WINS. =D