#Screened Garage Hobby Room
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u-build-it · 2 years ago
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Using Patio Extensions, You Can Transform A Dull Room Into A Hobby Room
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Since it is no longer as hot and humid outside, people are spending more time on their patios. If you enjoy spending time outside on your patio but don't want to deal with bugs, Patio Extrusions are for you. They provide more than just pest protection, allowing you to make the most of your patio.
Defense Against Weather
Most homeowners would probably concur that they use their patio less when the weather is bad. If you reside in Florida where the weather may be unpredictable, you may be attempting to figure out how to transform your patio into a Screened Garage Hobby Room. There are many benefits to many sunny days, but UV rays are not one of them. Enclosures do provide some protection from UV radiation, albeit they do not completely prevent them. To prevent injury, you should still wear sunscreen outside.
The End Of Bugs
South Florida is home to a wide variety of bug species, and they don't mind if you eat outside. Due to its warm climate, Florida is a haven for pests like fleas, ticks, and mosquitoes, all of which are active all the time. As a result, residents must regularly reapply insect spray when dining outside. This is secure and effective, but it could become tedious. A Patio Extrusions is the best option for the avid patio diner looking to improve their outside living space.
Pets Free Of Stress
Is it unexpected that a Screened Garage Hobby Room that can endure storms may also withstand harm from animals? This is worth addressing even though it might seem obvious. Yes, even huge breed dogs have the potential to damage your fences without really breaking them. With a specially constructed pet door, they accept small, medium-sized, and large pets.
A Rise In Property Values
If you believed that something that might turn your patio into a brand-new home addition increased a property's value, you were right. Enclosures may greatly improve your property in a variety of ways. Even if you don't have any immediate plans to sell, Patio Extrusions are a low-cost way to more effectively secure a return on the investment.
Storm Protection
You may put your mind at ease if you're worried about how well it will weather a storm because Patio Extrusions employ the strongest aluminum alloy, 6061-T6 available. This material can withstand winds that are between 150 and 170 mph. U-Build-it does, however, also offer distinctive removable screen panels that you can take down ahead of a storm to let the wind pass through the screen's large holes. The fact that every person was taken into account when creating the products is fantastic. To prepare for storm season, the screen panels are simply removed.
Patio Extrusions? You've additional space!
Here's an idea that you've probably never considered. When your patio is enclosed, it becomes a new structure on your property. No matter what you choose to do with your extra space, you can rely on dependability when you let U-Build-It handle the installation. We only use top-quality, premium goods to provide you with a cozy Screened Garage Man Cave. Our patio enclosures are built to last because the DuPont 500 powder paint is 300% thicker than the industry norm.
To ensure appropriate installation, get in touch with U-Build-expert its personnel. We offer speedy, dependable installations at a low cost.
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coeurify · 1 year ago
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ok but what do you think about making a sex tape with ellie 🧍‍♀️
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an: this has been reworked over and over since this request came in in march… so enjoy! its very lovey dovey and sm plot sorry :3
warnings: 18+. filming. jackson!ellie. fingering and oral!r receiving. mostly lovey but some teasing and rough language :3 ellie is obsessed and lovesick and so is reader soooo they make a sex tape. unedited gimme time.
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When Ellie first brought up the idea, you had recoiled into her old beat up couch, scoffing as she waved the old camcorder around, a shiteating grin on her face.
“I doubt that thing even works El,” you shrugged your shoulders under the blanket you had stolen off her bed. It wasn't unusual for you to hole up in her small homey garage while she was on patrol.. but what *was* odd was her little.. Souvenir from this particular trip.
“C’mon babe,” Ellie pouted, “Let me try on you..” she wiggled the little camcorder, slipping her hand into the attached grip, flipping open the small screen. Despite your complaints that there was no way it worked, Ellie just could never be wrong. Of course she knew you would fight back, and so she had made sure she fished some batteries too. Of course they came from Maria, the cost three days of stable duty.. But it was worth it for the immune woman, who ducked her nose down and watched the screen flicker to a slow start.
The quality was no better than that of what you could expect from a decades old camera, the film grainy and muffled, each corner covered by symbols Ellie didn’t really understand. But it was no roadblock in the trek of her wants. She smiled when your hands immediately came to slap over your face, voice serious behind your palms as you spoke, “put that down.”
Eventually however, you got a little used to Ellie’s newest fixation. The little hums she made were always a dead give away that she was filming you. During a video game tournament against Dina and Jesse, squished so closely to the two on the floor of the garage that you literally bruised the taller man during a particularly aggressive round of a fighting game. When you were trying your best to compete against your girlfriend’s art skills, tongue poking out the corner of your lips as you worked on a very detailed stick figure that dawned pointed down eyebrows, a large frown and red pencil hair. Even just when you were organizing Ellie’s closet for her, sorting through the tens of sweatshirts with a judging pout on your lips at the mess.
Each time you heard the distinctive sound of El’s attempt at holding back laughs, a small little choked up ‘hmm’ sound. You usually turned your head, quick to flip off your girlfriend-turned-filmmaker. But by the fifth time of catching her smiling behind the little object, you just let her. Whenever you could see her a little less tense, you took it.
Even if that meant starring in all of her little five second shitty clips. Her excuse always, “Just something to look at when I miss you.”
In some ways it made you feel weak legged, slightly lovesick by the thought of Ellie loving you so dearly she just had to steal little memories of you. Every small grin that broke onto freckled cheeks wherever she filmed coaxed you into the haze built up by her new hobby. You became so covered in adoration soon that you resorted to tiny only half mad eye roll when the click of the camera sounded.
Small clips turned into Ellie’s free hand wrapping around your bare waist as you looked in the mirror of her bathroom, the camcorder pressed near your cheek, the auburnette on the other side. You wiped the condensation from the glass, the room still slightly foggy from your shower. “You are not filming me out of the shower,” you huffed. Ellie didn’t answer, the familiar sounding hum stopped only when she pressed a kiss to the base of your neck, lips pulling up into a smile against the skin. “Won’t point too low..” she promised. “You just look so pretty..”
That time, the camera had been closed and discarded on a random bedside table as the two of you stumbled across her floor, giggling as Ellie cursed, stubbing her toe on the corner of the bed she tried to press you down into.
It continued like that, the limits of what you allowed Ellie to film seemed to blur further with every day.. Every curl of her fingers around the object that had become so central to this small haven of her home. Your own neck hot for reasons very different from embarrassment each time the filming light blinked a little too long. The line that you and Ellie had drawn in the sand of your mind was looking a lot less precise with every new memory saved into the device.
Even further along into the passing weeks, you had settled comfortably into yet another night spent at Ellie’s. Your own bedroom had remained untouched for nearly a week this time, bed spread likely just as cold as the air outside. But the garage was warm. The air inside thick as you pressed two fingers against your lips to keep a laugh from spilling out. Glasses of half empty wine, stolen from Tommy and Maria’s cupboard, balanced on the table that sat directly in front of the couch you were cuddled into.
The feeling of wine drunkenness always made you giggly, but your girlfriend parading around her small living space with her camcorder, well, that made you even more prone to bursts of laughs. She had gone from filming and rambling on about what wine you were drinking to zooming into your face, chuckling with breath that smelt like red wine. “See how pretty?” Ellie gaped to no one, stepping closer to you on the couch. The whole garage was painted a light orange from the setting sun outside, but it didn’t stop Ellie.
“El, you’re being a dork,” you chide, shaking your head as more compliments spilt from her. She shoos off the bitten remark with a sound that boarders on a coo, leaning over you as the lens of the camcorder sat close enough to pick up the smaller details of your face the grainy film usually could not.
“I’m just showin’ how perfect you are..” Ellie explains, a softer tone edging into her lungs as she presses her thumb to your cheek, drawing a new heat under the digit. “Perfect cheeks…” her finger traces over your jawline next, and then your chin. Each new landmark of your face that Ellie doted on swept closer and closer to your soft lips. You were no idiot, you saw how the green of her eyes fell to the fat, watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and then out again. You made no move to stop what came next.
That next move was your girlfriend’s finger following like a moth to a flame to the one spot that teetered on that blurry line again, thumb pressing softly around the curve of your lips.
“Perfect lips,” Ellie continued, eyes flicking back and forth from the camera screen to you. Soon the pad of her finger is right against your bottom lip, and the room seems to slow.
The both of you hold bated breaths as you mull over your options. But this mulling is no longer than a few seconds, feeling overwriting the more logical side of your brain with a gushy type of tightness in your chest.
Your lips part, eyes meeting the lense as you suck the tip of Ellie’s thumb into your mouth. Lips wrap around the soft skin, salty and cold, and Ellie has little to say other than a slow and breathy, “Fuck..”
Your tongue peaks out just for a moment, lavishing over the wet skin, but Ellie is quick to pull away, leaving your shining lips parted in confusion. The camera falls to her side as her free fingers wrap around your wrist. Just like last time, the little red light twists away from your face. Ellie’s toes step backwards from that oh so mysterious line you two made.
“You know what you do to me, hm?” Ellie questioned as she hauled you up by your arm, a sharp giggle following as she stomped to the bed. The camera is discarded on the table near her pillows as you are thrown back on it.
“No,” you tease, your next giggle cut off by a thump noise that was Ellie pushing you back against grey sheets, you make a sound that almost sounds like “oof” as you try to readjust. Ellie clambers on top of your squirming frame as another sputtered laugh escapes at the messy, and not very seductive, way you two found contact against the creaking mattress.
“Tell me,” you prompt, meeting Ellie’s narrowed green eyes. “Why should I? You’re laughin’ at me.”
Your eyes roll as Ellie’s lips fall into a pout that you want to kiss clean off. “Stop being a baby,” you mutter before letting your impulse win, your hands cupping the freckles cheeks of your girlfriend and pulling her down for a soft kiss. Her pouted lips quickly shape to your own, and you sigh in approval as the hand not holding herself up traces down to your waist.
“I’m not a baby,” your girlfriend complains when your lips part from each other, and you nearly pinch her cheeks from just how lovely you find the whiny drawl in her voice, instead you just shrug, biting back another half bubbled up laugh, “mhm, prove it.”
Ellie does just that. One tug on your hips has you flatter against the bed, one poke at your side has a squeal leaving your mouth. You see how Ellie’s lips quirk up, but before you can admire the sight, she kisses you again.
“So,” Ellie punctuates the word with a kiss, the sort that makes a loud and annoying smacking noise, before trailing her lips to your cheek. “Fuckin” Ellie’s lips find home on your jawline next, and act that has a simmering heat grow between your legs. “Perfect.” Ellie finishes the repeat of what her fingers had done earlier by nudging your head back, lips pressing softer kisses to the flesh of your neck.
Your eyes flicked to the side table, pupils finding the little camcorder as the auburn haired girl bit at your neck, your attention pulled away as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “El,” you breathe out, a hand finding her messy hair, nails scraping at her scalp as she bit harsher at the column of your throat. You aren’t sure why her name had been your first thought to say after seeing the camcorder, swallowing as your fingers itched to reach toward the side table.
“Hm? Tell me,” Ellie taunts, words muffled as her next target becomes your collarbone. Your own words biting at you again as your eyebrows furrowed together, watching as your girlfriend’s fingertips find the edge of your shirt, pushing it up as your hand falls from her hair to help take it off.
You pull her back for another kiss before you can even think to answer her question, one you weren’t even sure you could explain. Ellie’s needy fingers come into contact with the fat of your tits, tweaking at the perked nipples, nails pressing in just a little too hard, earning a mewl directly against the spit slick kiss. As Ellie kissed you, you tried your best to focus on the feeling, and not how you were acutely aware of the camera beside you.
Her tongue swiped at your bottom lip, warm against your parting lips as she searched to deepen the kiss, messy sounds of half breaths and kissing all sounded through the small area, your hips rolling up as her knee slotted itself between your trembling thighs.
You can’t help but wonder what this may look like on camera, and as Ellie pulls back, you notice the green of her eyes had dimmed, pupils blown as the pretty eyelashes fanned lightly. The freckles splattered over the apples of her cheeks were particularly prominent tonight, and you suspected it had something to do with the blood that rushed there, rosy and all around causing that same lovesick feeling to creep up your weakened bones.
You wonder if she would look as pretty on that grainy screen too.
Before your mind can even form another thought, Ellie is pulling away from your lips, a small whine the response she received. You can’t complain for long as she moves down, wet lips trailing sloppy kisses to your soft stomach, planting the ember of a growing fire in your groin, causing your hand to flex. Your eyes are pulled by an invisible string to the side of you again, the black material of the camcorder your gaze’s target. Ellie grumbles in response, and a small pinch on your hip has you yelping.
“What’re you looking at? Look at me.”
“Ellie,” you try again, lip quivering nervously as she ushers you to lift your hips, tugging off the bottoms you wore. “Fuckkkk,” she drawls, lost in her own little world as a large hand presses your thighs open. “You see that?” she marvels, a finger pressing against the wet spot on your panties. When she presses, you can feel the fabric stick to you, nearing translucent as she teases, your lips hugging the now soaked panties. It has your hips stirring in their spot, the flame in your stomach burning your liquid feeling stomach. “Ellie,” you sigh again.
Finally her gaze looks up, “Yea?” she asks, her voice softening. You can see the flash of confusion, her hand falling from your thigh as she searched for any apprehension. “You ok?”
“I can’t—“ your voice comes out whinier than you would like to admit, harsh against your ears with a feeling of embarrassment. “Can’t say it,” you finish, eyes moving to the camera sitting on the small wooden table beside you for the umpteenth time.
Ellie follows your eyes, and when you look back to her, there’s a flash of surprise in the shade of green you loved so much. It was replaced quickly, her eyelids drooping as her chin tilted up. “Hm. Don’t know what you mean,” she shrugs, fingers going back to teasing your panty line.
Her tone is laced with sarcasm, the teasing tilt to it is a voice you had heard many times before, many times in this exact position. Ellie liked to make you say things, liked to watch you squirm. You were convinced at this point she got off on your embarrassment, and she probably wouldn’t even deny that.
“Gonna have to spell it out for me, babe,” Ellie added, dipping down to place soft kisses at your hip-bone, pink muscle licking over a mark there.
A low and annoyed sound escapes your throat, and your girlfriend chuckles against your flesh, one finger curling around the fabric of your panties, tugging it down a little ungracefully, your shaking thighs to thank for that.
“Barely even touched you yet and you’re shakin,” Ellie teases again, whispering softly, “Such a pretty pussy..” as the sight of your weepy folds meet her eyes. “This all for me, baby? Or somethin’ else on your mind?”
Your eyes squeeze shut again, hoping to rid your mind of the film reel like thoughts of the camera pressed in Ellie’s hand as she did this. They played over and over behind the black of your eyes, and another frustrated sound fills the garage.
“Not gonna answer?” Ellie was quieter now, repositioning herself, parting your thighs even more. A finger ghosted over your dripping cunt, a hum following the action. “Can’t make you feel better if you don’t use your words, y’know?”
The warm air hit your folds as Ellie exposed you more, thighs burning from the stretch, from the tight grip of one of her hands, fingers digging into and squeezing the fatty flesh.
The blanket beneath your bare ass is no comfort as you move around, and Ellie’s nose bumps against the softness of your thigh. So close, so fucking close to giving exactly what you were searching for, so close to your aching center that your resolve cracks lightly, head tilted back and against the pillow.
“The camera,” you croak, your mouth dry as your lips part, refusing to look at the other girl.
“What about the camera? Look at me and tell me what you want.”
The crease between your eyebrows likely was gaining small droplets of sweat just from how hard you were attempting to avoid this entire fucking conversation, but Ellie kept pressing you further, and who were you to deny her?
“Wanna film this,” you eventually admit, head dipping down to meet her darkened eyes.
“Yea baby? Wanna see what a mess I can make you?” Ellie’s words start to blur together, the idea surely muddling any coherent thoughts together in her mind, licking her lips as she awaits your response.
“Fuck— mmph, yes El. Please.*”
Ellie’s lips curl into a smile that’s more wicked than loving, “Red button starts it, you can hold it.” She instructed, and you scramble to reach your arm out, grasping at the little hand strap connected to the camcorder.
“There you go babe,” she nods, “give it a go, let me see what you’ve got.”
Your fingers are shaking so badly it takes a moment for your thumb to hit the button, to see the soft little red light noting the start of the film.
The grainy screen doesn’t pick up on all the freckles adorning Ellie’s face. The ones that made you feel all gooey, that you wanted to kiss until her face was a pretty shade of red. But it did capture her parted lips, the expanse of your thighs, and your shaky grip tilted the camera down as Ellie’s head dipped between your thighs.
Her mouth latched to your achy cunt, tongue licking up the drops of arousal that covered your slit, pearling on the petal like lips that she spreads with her fingers.
Your arms almost immediately gave out.
Clearly, you were not as skilled in the art of film making as Ellie had been, the camera dropping almost completely to your tummy as Ellie sucked at your cunt. Her eyes flicked up, and she unlatched from the saccharine slick that pooled on her tongue.
“You keep that camera steady,” she muttered, thumb rubbing tiny, tight circles on your throbbing clit. “Or I stop, yea?”
You nod quickly, hips grinding into the slow and steady motion of her thumb, wet with your sticky . You would have agreed to anything she demanded of you right now anyway. Too needy, too desperate to feel her lips on you again.
“ ‘M counting on you to make a pretty movie for me.”
The sentence tapers off as she disappears to the space between your thighs again, and you nearly and truly sob as her nose bumps your clit, her tongue poking experimentally against your hole, feeling as it clenches against nothing.
You know your whimpers and quick little puffs of air are being picked up by the camera, but you’re too focused on keeping the lense directly focused on the auburn tendrils of hair, on where her face was covered by your thighs caging her cheeks in, keeping her in the place she most needed to be, drinking down every single single drop you gave her.
“Ellie,” you whine, toes curling when she presses away from your clit, two long fingers coming to part your folds, admiring the sticky sight.
“Shhh,” Ellie coos, eyes glancing up at the camera again, the burning sight of her fern colored gaze through the tiny screen has your stomach clenching even harsher, hands trembling lightly.
The air on your exposed center lasts no longer than a few seconds, Ellie’s head dipping down as the warm, wet feeling of a glob of her spit trails down your clit, finding your pulsing hole. Her tongue swipes it quickly after, suckling gently at the shiny bubbles. The sound that follows, the loud wet squelch of your wetness mixing with her spit is enough to make you want to cover the speaker of the camcorder, fingers gripping tightly at the little contraption. She focuses on licking at your sopping cunt, her head moving slightly, moaning against your folds.
“Oh—nnh—El!” you cry, your chin trembling in tandem with the hand you try desperately to keep still. Your hips rut up, and Ellie’s face moves up with you, an arm detaching from its place on your squishy thigh to instead wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer.
You can feel yourself closer, closer to that delicious peak, Ellie’s nose bumping your clit, tongue working mind numbing ministrations on you.
Then she pulls back.
“Fuckin made for me,” Ellie groans, taking a deep breath as she unlatched from your pussy, her fingers sweeping through your puffy lips. “Was fuckin’ made to let me taste you.” Her eyes flick to the camera, her tone louder than usual— a little less breathy. She wanted the microphone to hear.
You cry pathetically at the loss of her tongue, lip quivering.
“Tell me,” she demands, voice overpowering the slick noises of her now shiny fingers rubbing between your folds, the tips pausing at your pulsing hole, dipping only a little in, teasing. “Tell me this pretty pussy was made for me.”
And then Ellie is reaching forward, letting go of her grip on your hips to grab harshly at the camera, maneuvering it to show your trembling body, her fingers pressing open your lips, giving the camera a pretty close up of your soaked cunt. She croons at the sight, her fingers pressing together to land a short and sharp slap against the swollen lips. “S’pretty.”
“Ellie,” you choke, chest heaving up and down as the embarrassment creeps up, making that coil in your tummy even tighter.
“Tell me,” she says again, smoothly.
Desperate to have her fingers opening you up, to have her filling you and breaking that tightly wrapped tension in your groin, you break.
“I’m yours el. ‘m all yours, was made for you,” your voice is restrained, quiet as you chew at your lips, stirring in your spot as she continues the teasing.
“What else? Tell me more, baby,” she insists, one long finger sinking into you, hissing at the feeling of your cunt molding to her, perfect for her as you clench.
“A—ah!” your voice is a sweet little cry. You grind down into the feeling, searching for more. “It’s yours El,” you babble— louder now, head thrown back. Ellie captured the moment with a quick tilt up of the camera. “M-my pussy s’all yours.”
“Fuck,” Ellie breathes, her own, usually steady camera hand, wavering as you speak. She grants you with another finger as she thrusts harshly into you, a shriek pulled from your open mouth.
“So—s-so fucking perfect,” she grunts, curling her fingers gently, hitting that squishy spot in your walls that has you keening, eyes rolling back. “Love this pussy so much, shit—shit, love you so much.”
“Love you too El,” you blubber, your chin tilting down to stare directly at the camera for a second. That awkwardness, the fear from the early days of when she’d film you completely gone as you moan pathetically, eyes shiny with complete and utter adoration.
She only pistons her fingers into you harder, faster, relishing in how you moan, how your toes curl and your chin wobbles. You’re the prettiest fucking thing she’s ever seen.
The camera points down to where she’s thrusting into you, watching through the screen as you meet her thrusts, your hips moving against the grey sheets, your thighs squeezing her hand in between them as you sob out.
Ellie meets your eyes, stealing your attention from the camera she keeps focused on your squirming frame, pounding her fingers into your cunt. “Cum for me, you can do it baby, go on. Give me a pretty show.”
And you do. Your sweaty back lifts off the bed with a sharp sob as the cord in your tummy snaps, gushing around Ellie’s fingers, pulsing around her as she thrusts shallowly, riding you through it.
Your vision goes black for a second as you heave, hands shaking as you reach out for Ellie, fingers looking to curl around her warm skin.
You don’t even notice the off click of the camera, of how she lets it softly drop to the side as she climbs up your shaky form, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.
“So pretty,” Ellie hums, “Prettiest movie star ever,” she mumbled, and you pour your lips— getting another soft kiss as she continues to plant tiny loving pecks around your face.
“Never should’ve let you keep that camera,” you whisper gently, smiling right when she does against the corner of your mouth that she pecks at.
“Yea fuckin’ right, we just made the movie of the year babe.”
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deanbrainrotwritings · 9 months ago
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— A GUIDEBOOK FOR SINNERS TURNED SAINTS
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SUMMARY : dean uses the sexiest seduction methods to get laid when he keeps getting cockblocked by his gaming girlfriend
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : smut, fluff, angst?, dean being cute, gamer girlfriend problems, unprotected sex (dean wears condoms in the show, you should too), oral sex (f. receiving), filth, dean being really horny, reader being really horny, cowboy dean = cowboy kink, squirting, slow and possibly over-descriptive?, two people being insane for each other? >:)
WORD COUNT : 8.8k
A/N : title from a jamie’s elsewhere album. this fills the square for “first one to make a noise loses” on my @jacklesversebingo card. 
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Today was a lazy day. In fact, the whole week was eventless in terms of monsters going out to eat people. Sam took the time to meet with Eileen, staying with her in a much nicer hotel than they were used to sleeping in. Dean and Y/n choose to stay in and enjoy having the Bunker all to themselves. 
For Dean, it meant eating junk food, sleeping in and sleeping late, binge watching shows and having movie marathons, checking up on the cars in the garage, cleaning everything but messing up Sam’s room. For Y/n that meant catching up on the latest season of her favourite video game, playing with and talking to random people to complete group missions and challenges, reading books she’s been meaning to finish, hanging out with Dean and doing whatever he wanted, trying new recipes, and reading the nerdiest articles just to know things.
It was the fourth day of their ‘vacation’, Y/n decided to play while Dean cooked as soon as she cleaned up the Bunker with him. Dean went to her room with a plate of food, the place where she once slept in became an activity room where she worked on her hobbies. Now having Dean’s room to sleep in, his drawers were filled with her socks, underwear, and bras. She wore his shirts as dresses instead of completely taking over his room, having to walk a short distance to get to her room where her clothes, trinkets, souvenirs, and more of her items remained.
“Hey, darlin’,” Dean smiled cutely at her.
“Hey, baby,” Y/n smiled up at him, turning her attention away from her game despite her screen turning red from the damage she was taking. “Oh, yummy,” she murmured, ogling him entering her room in just a pair of black boxers. He snorted at her. “Oh, yummy,” she repeated, this time eyeing the plate of waffles, whipped cream, and fruit--some of it cut into hearts. “Dean,” she giggled, accepting a slow kiss from him when he leaned down with puckered lips.
“What?” he murmured against her lips, smiling as he pulled away. “You died.” She turned away from him and shrugged when she saw the ‘revive’ button on her screen. 
“Thanks.” She smiled ignoring her game to admire him, kissing his cheek appreciatively. 
“For gettin’ you killed?” She laughed, raising a brow at him. 
“Getting shy about the heart-shaped fruits?” She asked, turning away from her computer by spinning her chair slightly to face him completely, and crossing her arms over her chest, staring at him dead in the eyes with a smirk. 
“Pff,” he sputtered, staring at the plate in his hands to avoid the cutely decorated plate in front of her and her teasing gaze, but an unmistakable blush brought colour to his ears and neck. She squinted her eyes at him when he turned back to her, her grin widening because she already knew he was bashful for having done something so cheesy. “Shuddup,” he said meekly, smiling with embarrassment.
“Uh-huh.” 
He turned away from her, avoiding her. She let him walk away, waiting for him to place his plate on her night stand before getting up to hug him from behind. “Hey,” she laughed, squeezing his waist with her arms.
“Leave me alone,” he laughed, wiggling in her arms until she let him go. 
She squeezed his ass playfully, and he stiffened, grabbing her hand--still laughing--and turned to face her. She was faster than him, tugging her arm towards herself so he’d stumble towards her, like a dance, she moved in a circle so his back faced the bed. “Hey!” He protested playfully, the breath getting knocked out of him from surprise when he fell into her bouncy bed. 
“Why’d you take off your clothes?” She asked, climbing up on top of him before he could even think about sitting up. His stomach clenched delightfully at the sight of her on top of him, holding his wrists above his head with her small hands. He bit his lip when her bare thighs brushed against the skin of his waist, his cock stirring in the soft cotton of his boxer briefs.
“I… Uh, it was hot in the kitchen,” he lied, his voice deeper than before, coated in desire. She tilted her head, a knowing smirk stretching across her lips.
“Because the kitchen started to heat up from your cooking? Or because you’ve got the nastiest, sluttiest imagination?” She murmured, leaning forward, brushing her lips against his. 
“Uh,” he paused, closing his eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. He opened his eyes to look at what she was doing, flushing with embarrassment when she giggled at him. She released his wrists, resting her hands flat on his chest so she wouldn’t fall on top of him from her laughing fit. He grumbled friskily, large hands grasping her soft thighs to flip her over onto her back. She squealed, clinging to him as best as she could while laughing hard.
“Whoa,” she chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes. 
He was busy nibbling her ear, one of his hands pressing against the small of her back as she arched into him, their hips slotting together perfectly for her to feel how hard he was with only the flimsy material of their underwear. He held himself above her with one of his arms resting beside her head, tangling her hair in his fingers. She squirmed at the sensation of his hot breath against her neck and his teeth gently tickling her earlobe, both sensations distracting her from everything around her, including her game that had now kicked her off the map for inactivity. 
“Dean,” she whispered quietly, loosening her grip on the sheets to tease the waistband of his boxer briefs. 
He began to kiss her jaw instead, brushing his lips teasingly, slowly down her throat until she moved her head to the side to give him more access to her neck, to let him lick gently at the sensitive flesh behind her ear. He breathed her in, the softness of her perfume and the sweetness of her shampoo making him dizzy and weak. 
She rolled her hips up against his, encouraging him, her pussy tingling with lust, aching to be touched by him. An exhale shakily slipped past her parted lips. She could easily feel how hard he was through the thin layer of clothes between them, warmth spreading across her skin, her heart thumping loudly, the blood rushing through her body increasing the pleasure he was making her feel. 
She continued to move her hips against his, legs parted needily, her grip on his hips keeping her movements hard and steady. He grunted her name against her skin, the feeling of her rubbing herself against him making him needier. He moved his hand from her back to her hip, squeezing roughly. He could feel her sneaky hands slowly lowering his underwear, but he continued to lick at her skin, teeth sinking into her soft flesh, mouth suctioning hard until marks adorned her smooth skin. 
“You’re so soft, baby,” he murmured, moving away from her neck to venture down her body, lifting the black shirt up her body. “So warm,” he whispered, kissing the flesh above the waistband of her underwear. “I need you so bad,” he mumbled against her stomach.
“Then fuck me, Dean,” she replied breathily. 
He chuckled, trailing open mouthed kisses up her torso, biting and sucking to embellish her skin with possessive marks. He lifted the shirt higher, revealed the soft flesh of her breasts and her hardened nipples. She shivered, her skin prickling from the contrast of his warm breath and the cool air in the room.
“How bad do you want it, baby?” He asked with a smug smile, but he interrupted her by sucking her nipple into his mouth when she was going to speak; instead a strangled moan replaced her words. He grabbed her other breast in his large hand, squeezing it slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of her nipple with his thumb.
“Please,” she moaned, arching her back and slipping her fingers through his soft hair. He only moaned in response, swiping his tongue over her nipple, teeth scraping her flesh, almost painfully pinching her nipple in hopes that it would make her pull his hair. “Fuck, baby, I love your mouth,” she praised, tugging at his hair to bring him up for a kiss. 
“Want it?” He asked with a grin, blowing air over her saliva-coated nipple. “Want it on yours?” He teased, kissing his way across to her other breast, giving it the same attention as the other. “Or do you want me to keep it here?” He murmured, circling her nipple with the tip of his tongue, then sucked on it gently. With both of her hands on him, she pulled the hair at the top of his head and dug her fingernails into his bicep, whining. “Want it somewhere else?” He asked, sliding both of his hands down her sides until he was holding her impatient hips still against the bed. His pinkies moved underneath her panties. “Like right here?” 
“Fuck, yes,” she whispered. 
A loud blaring alarm from Y/n’s phone interrupted him from pulling her underwear off. He looked back at the source with a scowl, but otherwise began to tug her underwear down. She slowly sat up anyway, confused by the alarm she had no memory of setting. Dean ignored the alarm, slapping her thigh so she’d part her legs again and lay down, but she was deep in thought, attempting to remember the reason she’d set the alarm, her face pinched in concentration. 
“Oh… shit,” she scrambled up off the bed suddenly, lifting her underwear back in place. Just like that, the need for him to take her dissipated. His mouth fell open in disbelief, perceiving her sudden regained interest in returning to her game.  
“Babe,” he scoffed, “seriously?” She looked back at him, immediately apologetic. 
“I’m… sorry, D,” she chuckled, “I forgot I’d promised to help with this raid. Raincheck?” She bit her lip, shaking her leg even as she stood. 
“How ‘bout you put a raincheck on that and come back to bed with me?” He suggested, but there wasn’t much confidence in his voice or his words.
“Dean,” she started, turning away from him to set up her mic and headset. He groaned, falling back into the bed. “Eat your breakfast and I swear I’ll make it up to you,” she offered, still with her back facing him. He sat up and glared at her, then smiled innocently when she turned back to raise a brow at his silence. “Don’t look at me like that!” She pouted, his lips parted and he was ready to argue. “Don’t lie to me! I know you,” she cut him off, turning away and sitting back in her seat with an exaggerated huff.
“Cockblock,” he murmured, playfully.
“Shut up,” she retorted, smiling. 
Dean groaned, long and childish, before doing as she told him to do. He peeked over her chair to watch her play and grumbled begrudging words under his breath when she laughed at something one of her teammates said. He whined loudly again and she turned back just to raise a brow at him.
“I’m gonna make you pay,” he mouthed to her. She squinted her eyes and shook her head, turning her attention back on the game. Dean opened the laptop on the bed and dug into his food halfheartedly, looking for something to watch with no interest in actually finding something.
Occasionally, Dean would glance up from his plate to see that Y/n’s character was standing still behind a building while she ate, then she’d stop eating to move her character or to shoot at someone that was about to kill her. He wondered how long it would take for her to get the raid done, hell, he even considered learning how to play just to be with her. 
Dean waited for half an hour before shutting his laptop and placing it on the nightstand. He stared boredly as Y/n planned out the next encounter and what each person had to do to succeed. He sighed and took his plate, checking Y/n’s desk for hers, which was also empty. Dean pressed a kiss to the top of her head before making his way out of her room.
Dean busied himself with washing the dishes, making sure to do it slowly, but it only gave his mind the chance to go to the gutter. 
He remembered a few times when he’d licked whipped cream off her naked body, or when she’d licked honey off his. It was like his mind was working against him, forcing him to relive the way she tasted, the way she felt so soft beneath him, how hot she looked when she rode him, all of their trysts swam around his head, even the daring things they’d done suddenly came to the front of his mind.
Like that time Sam went on a hunt with Eileen and Dean had decided to walk around naked for the whole week. The amount of times he fucked Y/n was legendary, especially the locations they chose. Including right where he was currently washing the dishes. It was the first day he’d decided to go nude, she was washing the dishes from the previous night and he snuck up behind her with his face buried in her neck.
She’d reached behind to playfully smack his ass the way she always did, but was stunned by the feeling of skin. She’d laughed for while and he joked back before grasping her hips, tugging her pink underwear down her legs to stop at her knees, and fucking her. It was domestic, that turned him on the most, remembering her with her hair messy morning hair--sex-hair, really, because they’d fucked the previous night. She was just in his flannel and she looked hot, the way she always did, beautiful. He vividly remembers the way his cum had dripped down her thighs when he pulled out of her.  
He moaned softly at the memory, the sound coming out almost whiny. 
What was that sex they had the previous night? Well, it was the reason she was washing dishes that morning. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night to snack on something because he got hungry and as he cleaned up, using only a small lamp to see the kitchen, she’d snuck up on him. 
He got scared, when she stood still at the entrance of the kitchen just in his robe. Then he laughed when she moved and came into the light, and just like the next morning, she joked back, then he lifted her up on the metal counter, opening the robe to see her wearing nothing, and he fucked her while staring deeply into her sleepy eyes as she clung to him. His robe caught all the cum that spilled out of her and she put it in the washing machine, despite his protests. 
He licked his lips at these memories, feeling uncomfortably hot, with his cock hard again. 
Sam always scolded Dean for his seemingly high libido, and Dean usually brushed it off because he didn’t always get laid. When they went on hunts, it was hard to find someone willing to have sex with no strings attached. Even before Y/n, it was just an occasional thing, when he saved the girl--if the occasion happened to arise, which it rarely did because he had to be safe about who he was taking to bed.
It was all very complicated. Sex and hunting. 
It wasn’t complicated now. 
Dean had what he liked to call ‘a healthy appetite for his woman’. It made Y/n laugh, but Sam would grimace, and Cas would squint his eyes and tilt his head in confusion. 
Finding the Bunker only intensified his ‘appetite’. And being alone with her in the Bunker made his appetite more intense, all-consuming.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, finishing up with the dishes a little faster. He wanted to find something to do that would take his mind off things. He made a list in his head of things he could do: clean the inside of the Impala, change the oil, shower or take a bath, organise his room.
All that sounded boring enough to him, distracting enough to at least get rid of the raging boner he was sporting. He felt like a teenager again. He shook his head, drying his wet hands with a towel, double checking that the dishes were dry and clean. He grabbed the towel, letting a bit of water trickle over it to dampen it, before walking to his room.
He organised the dozens of papers he had strewn across his desk, fixed the photo of him with his mom, and cleaned away the dust trapped in the crooks and crannies with a partially wet towel he brought from the kitchen. He organised the contents inside the draws, placing the phones neatly in the back, making sure everything was in its own spot so it was evenly levelled. 
He went around his room, cleaning the wooden surfaces, organising papers and books into their correct spots. For some reason, Y/n was looking at his porn last night, she mostly giggled while flipping through the magazines. She left that on the green couch.
They’d christened that, too, when he first dragged it to his room. It was pretty small, but perfect for when she was on top and he had his face buried in her chest, leaving her skin warm and damp with his breath, moaning as she bounced on his lap. He should’ve known better than to expect cleaning his room to get his mind off sex.
He picked up the flannel he’d left on the chairs and over the couch, smelling them to check if they needed to be washed. He smiled when he picked up her scent instead of his in the warm cotton of his clothes. He put some of their coats on the little hooks on the wall, checking that they were clear of stains and adding them to the pile of dirty clothes that was growing on the floor by his bed. 
He checked every drawer for unnecessary items, like old candy wrappers and receipts, only throwing out the ones that weren’t associated with some good memories. Then, he fixed the contents that did belong there. 
He checked under the tables, the chairs, the couch, and his bed for lost items. He found some of Y/n’s underwear and some boring black socks. He unfortunately came across the two large boxes, one filled with sex toys and the other filled with pornographic photos of him and Y/n. He was so tempted to look through them, but resisted and decided to throw out the mouldy burger he kept in his room.
He cleaned out the cupboard over the sink in his room, throwing out expired medication.
He had so much stuff in his room, but he got it all cleaned up and organised eventually. 
He grabbed the dirty clothes off the floor and walked to where the washing machine and dryer were, shoving the matching clothes together into the washer and separating everything into piles along the floor. As it washed, he went to the garage to clean up his Baby and change the oil.
He went back and forth, between taking the clothes in and out of the washer, in and out of the dryer, and then to the garage until the Impala was completely clean inside, the weaponry was organised in the trunk, and the changed the oil, which got him a bit dirty. But it was his plan to shower or bathe eventually before heading back to check if Y/n had finished the raid yet.
He knew Baby would lead to some lewd memories, too. Old memories of when they had to make do in his car because they were impatient, but mostly to avoid Sam’s disgust in the times before they found the Bunker. All three of them had to share and it was a hassle having to be quick when Sam went out, while they showered, or when Sam finally fell asleep, having to be quiet. It was hard for Dean to be quiet.
Dean glared down at his erection for appearing again and cleaned up the mess he left behind to finally get cleaned. A cold shower was overdue to shock his body and to get his brain to focus on something else, literally, anything else besides how badly he wanted to sink into his girlfriend’s warmth, with her smooth legs wrapped around his waist, listening to the glorious sounds she makes, and watching how utterly enraptured she looks.
He groaned with annoyance and quickly washed his hands when he got to his room to get some clean clothes without staining it. He was about to walk out, but stopped at the door, considering one method of seduction that he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. 
He grinned and searched his room for the cowboy get-up she loved for him to wear--especially when they roleplayed. It was bound to make her forget all about that game she was so obsessed with. He chuckled and immediately wasted no time to get to the shower, cleaning and scrubbing off grease from his hands and chest, washing his hair and imagining what technique he’d use once he entered her room.
He dried himself off quickly once he stepped out of the shower, messily moving the towel over his hair until it was sticking up in all directions, almost completely dry. He changed first, very neatly flattened the white dress shirt over his chest, tucking it into his black slacks, neatly arranging the bolo tie, and stepping into some cowboy boots. He styled his hair neatly now that it was drier, using gel to hold some of it in place, and finally--dorkily, he grabbed the beige cowboy hat and placed it gently on his head.
He checked the time on his watch, amazed to see just how much time it took for him to get everything cleaned up properly. 
He hoped going back to his room to brush his teeth would give her enough time to finish up the raid. He was just stalling. He had no idea why he was getting nervous all of the sudden. They’d done things like this a thousand times before, sometimes he’d do it shamelessly—with people around.
He started to second-guess everything once he got to the hallway leading up to her room. He stopped a few feet away from her door with his hands on his hips, he mumbled reassurances to himself. His heart excitedly thudded in his chest and he was already feeling a blush crawl up his face, burning his ears and neck. 
He steeled himself, trying to be casual as he got closer and closer, letting out a heavy, shaky breath that puffed up his pink cheeks. He stepped into the room as if a gust of cold wind would greet him, but she was still focused on the game, the headset was abandoned on her desk, and she was in the strangest position ever. 
She was lazily slouched in her seat, but looked amused as her fingers expertly moved across the keyboard, her wrist snapping sharply over the mouse to aim perfectly at her target. Had he not been impatient and irritatingly aroused, Dean would praise her skills and maybe stare for a bit longer because it was really hot. 
“Wh…” She paused, when she saw him in her peripheral vision, now dressed, but not in the usual flannel and jeans. “What’s… up?” She asked slowly, bewildered, once she turned her head to get a good look at him.
“Nothin’,” Dean replied quickly, shrugging nonchalantly and stepping closer to her. She smiled deviously and his stomach flipped watching her lean back in the chair, completely abandoning her game. 
“Nothin’?” She repeated with a chuckle, “then why are you dressed up?” She blinked up at him expectantly, even turned her whole chair in his direction, rolling forward until she was half a foot away from him.
“Uh, I’m bored,” he shrugged again, then reached behind his neck to rub it. 
“Uh-huh,” she smirked, eyeing him from head to toe. His blush deepened, his confidence faltering when she bit her lip libidinously at the sight of him. 
“So, it’s got nothin’ to do with this?” She asked, but before he could ask her what she was talking about, she hooked her fingers into his belt loops and tugged him forward. He swallowed to bring moisture back into his dry throat, staring into her eyes, captivated by her boldness when she brushed two of her fingers down the seam of his zipper where his cock was straining against. 
“Fuck,” he rasped, breath hitching, staring into her eyes while she continued to tease him. She smirked at the stuttered breaths he took. She could clearly feel how hard he was beneath her small hand, making her pussy clench around nothing. Wetness began to dampen her underwear when his breaths came out heavy and aroused, her name slipping from his lips breathlessly. She cupped him in her hand, gently and apologetically squeezing him through the soft material of his black slacks. “Please, baby,” he begged breathily, closing his eyes. He bit his lip, felt his face and entire body flare up with desire to be fucked. 
“I gotta finish this first,” she laughed playfully. His eyes snapped open and he whined, a sound that bubbled up his throat involuntarily, but it sounded so hot, Y/n nearly considered abandoning her game--mid-mission. Instead, she cleared her throat and squeezed her thighs together to stop the pulsing of her clit, giving his ass a proper smack that made him jerk forward slightly, knees hitting her chair.
“You’ve been playin’ for hours,” he whined. 
She automatically smirked when he pouted, his bottom lip swollen from having been bitten by his sharp teeth. She was about to argue that she hadn’t as she checked her phone for the time, but was shocked to see it had already been four hours since she’d started playing. Somehow, it felt like she barely got anything done in the game. 
Interrupting her thoughts and excuses, he leaned forward with his hand flat on her desk to hover over her. Her head snapped back in his direction and she swallowed at his proximity, her eyes immediately drawn to his pillowy pink lips, her legs practically spreading apart involuntarily when he teased the inside of her warm, bare thigh with his knuckles. 
She straightened up in her seat, tightly holding the arm rests of her gaming chair when he cupped her pussy the same way she had cupped him just seconds before.
“Fuck me,” he whispered enticingly, sliding his fingers up her covered pussy, teasingly pressing his fingers into her soaked entrance and her throbbing clit. She clenched her thighs together, stopping him from repeating that manoeuvre, but he still managed to brush one of his fingers over her clit repeatedly. 
“Later,” she moaned, grasping his wrist and tugging it out from between her legs. 
“But you’re so wet,” he complained, dropping down to his knees between her legs. She squirmed in her seat, blushing with lust, letting him grab the back of her knees to place her legs over his shoulders. He gripped her hips and moved her forward until her cunt was right in front of his face and he kissed her pelvis, then quickly licked her clit over her underwear. 
“Oh… shit,” she whispered, feeling a new wave of wetness that left her more soaked than she was seconds before. He hooked his forefinger under her underwear, pulling upwards to tease her clit with the soft fabric. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, missing the triumphant sparkle in his eyes.
“Please,” he whispered, loving the way she pulled him forward with her calves against his back, her toes curling in the teal and yellow giraffe socks he got for her two weeks ago. “Is that a ‘yes’?” He asked smugly when she brought her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, his breath fanning over her soaked underwear, his mouth salivating at the sight of her wetness darkening the cotton. 
“Yes, Dean,” she laughed softly.
He hummed softly, moving her underwear to the side to flick her clit teasingly with the tip of his tongue. Holding her underwear to the side with his thumb, he looked up at her through his thick lashes as he started to go down on her, catching her clouded gaze. 
She played with the short hairs at the back of his head, biting her lip in amusement.
“What?” He asked, leaning forward to flatten his tongue over her clit, coating it in his saliva. She waited for a while, appreciating the sight of his pretty face shoved between her legs and the way he licked at her clit.
“I love you,” she murmured. He hummed softly in response, gently sucking on her clit, circling an arm around her hips when she arched her back and moaned. 
“I know,” he teased, pulling away momentarily to lap at her dripping entrance. “You love my mouth,” he quipped, his tongue pushing through the spasming walls of her pussy. He pushed his face completely against her cunt, his nose teasing her clit, moaning softly when she squeezed his tongue once it slipped as deep as he could push it inside her. 
“That too,” she agreed with laughter in her otherwise breathless voice. She tipped the hat on his head back slightly, exposing him to her again. “Among other things,” she added quietly. Another hum moved through her and her thighs twitched in response to the vibrations it created on her pussy. 
He closed his eyes, wiggling his tongue inside her before pulling out and tracing her labia, leaving traces of his saliva behind. He left open mouthed kisses on her sex, his eyes fluttering open attractively, gazing up at her to see how she was doing.
“G.... Dean…” she gasped, longing for more, “please.” 
“You made me wait,” he countered, leaning back to pull her legs off his shoulders. 
“What? Are you mad?” She teased with a stunned laugh as he grabbed the seam of her socks to slide them off her feet. He gave her a deadpan look in response, but tugged her underwear off nonetheless. 
“No,” he replied eventually, dangling her ruined underwear in front of her. “I’ve got my face buried in this sweet pussy of yours,” he smirked. Her stomach clenched with desire and her breath got caught in her chest the way the words sounded so hot coming out of his mouth. She snatched her underwear away from him, blushing, and threw them across the room. 
He ignored it, eyes fixed between her legs. 
“Look at how wet you are for me, darlin’, practically dripping,” he chuckled deeply, slapping her clit with three fingers. 
She jolted in surprise, “fuck.” 
“I’ve got other stuff in mind,” he dismissed, standing up to twirl her chair slightly, so the back of it hit her desk, stopping it from moving around too much. He grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing and tugged it upwards, letting her take it off the rest of the way, just for her to throw it behind her. It ended up draped over her monitor. 
“Like what?” She asked curiously, eyes glued on him as he walked towards the bed to grab the pillow to place it in front of her. He dropped down on it, shifting on his knees to test the way it felt beneath him. She regained his attention by tapping his nose with her forefinger. He scrunched it up adorably, took her hand in his and gave her fingertips a little kiss. She smiled down at him and watched him stand on his knees, leaning forward with two fingers under her chin. 
“Have I fucked you in this chair?” He wondered out loud, pecking her lips as she replied with a ‘no’. She smiled, closing her eyes, holding onto the lapels of his black suit to steady herself. His nose brushed against hers, teasing her lips with his soft breath. “Have I fingered you in it? Or eaten you out?” He kissed her in between each question, dropping his hand from her chin to knead her thighs. 
“No,” she whispered, her body tingling pleasantly, vibrating with longing. 
He hummed softly, easily pushing his tongue past her lips, and lifted her thighs to position them over the armrests of her chair. She moaned softly, tasting the fresh mint of toothpaste on his tongue. She slid her hands up his chest, into his soft hair to carefully tug at the short strands without disturbing the hat at the top of his head. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, vaguely aware of his fingertips brushing along the inside of her thigh.
He quickly popped his thumb into his mouth, covering it in spit before pressing his fingers against her skin as he reached to find her clit between her damp folds with his thumb. Her stomach twisted, aching for more, but she accepted what he gave her, relishing in the gentle touches to her cunt, in the way he kissed her breath away, slowly sucking her tongue, and heatedly licking into her mouth. 
His wet thumb moved over her clit, rubbing up and down languidly, then in circles while her walls squeezed around nothing. She moaned into his mouth needily, withdrawing her tongue from within his mouth to suck and bite at his plump, bottom lip. He smiled and circled two fingers around her entrance, gathering the wetness that made her folds glisten. 
“Holy--” she gasped suddenly, pulling away from his mouth when he subsequently pushed a finger into her. He used one of his arms to push her thigh against the armrest, keeping her fairly still. 
“There ain’t nothin’ holy ‘bout what I wanna do to you, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping wet kisses over her chest. He smirked against her cleavage when her pussy squeezed his finger in return, so he pushed another one into her. Slowly, he stretched her open, the burn of his thick fingers, the way he pushed them deeper and deeper until his knuckles stopped him turned her on more and more. 
He stopped kissing her breasts, licking his lips when he gave her a quick glance from under the rim of his cowboy hat. He tipped his chin downward to watch her stretch around his fingers, his cock now painfully hard. When he brought his fingers out slightly, they reappeared drenched in her arousal, making it easier for him to scissor them back into her. He bit his lip roughly, listening only to her broken breaths, faintly aware of her rigid grip on his forearms.
She squirmed restlessly in the chair, her clit aching for attention. 
He curled his fingers inside her, pressing into her and stroking her inner walls so she could feel the sparks of her impending orgasm. He shifted his arm against her thigh to hold her hip in a rather harsh squeeze that she found more pleasurable than uncomfortable. 
“Touch your tits, babe,” he instructed, leaning forward so the edge of his cowboy hat teased her skin, depositing little kisses down her stomach to take her clit between his lips once again. She cried out softly, hands cupping her breasts, on her way to pinch her nipples and roll them between her fingers. Her hips bucked against Dean’s strong hold so he gave her the freedom to move as much as she wanted.
He licked ravenously at her clit, drawing circles on and around it, and simultaneously, he pushed a third finger into her. He let her roll her hips up, following her lead as he sucked and expertly caressed her clit with his tongue. 
“Dean,” she mewled. He grinned against her pussy, moaning in acknowledgment, speeding up the thrust of his fingers, delighting in the obscene squelch of her cunt each time he pushed them into her. 
Her back arched further and her head fell back against the chair as her orgasm approached. He continued sucking her clit earnestly, his nose pressed against her silky skin, grunting the instant her pussy throbbed around all three of his fingers. He moved his arm to wrap around her hips, pressing her closer to his mouth, covetously squeezing her flesh to enhance the pleasure she felt from her orgasm. 
“Oh… fuck… yes,” she gasped, pushing her hips closer to his drooling mouth, teetering on the edge of never ending pleasure. One of her hands released her breast to press against the back of his neck, holding his face impossibly close to her pussy. Her free thigh found its way back over his shoulder as powerful pulses of pleasure made her body shake and shudder. 
“Dean,” she praised passionately, followed by a few, more desperate whispers of his name and drawn-out curse words that ended only when she was coming down her high. 
Dean carefully pulled his fingers out of her, abandoning her sensitive clit to look up at her whilst she caught her breath, her heartbeat slowing down. He licked his swollen, wet lips, smiling at the sight of her glowing and blissed out semblance. 
He murmured her name and kissed her across her hips, massaging the thigh she had placed over his shoulder. He splayed his hand across her back and kissed his way back down to lick her clean, murmuring adorations against her skin. She hummed fondly, eyes slowly fluttering open to gaze at her lover.
“Are you gonna remember how I made you cum in this chair?” He jested quietly, then rubbed his fingers together, playing with her cum. He popped his fingers into his watering mouth, pretty, green eyes now staring up into hers. 
She laughed and nodded, biting her lip. 
“Awesome,” he grinned, standing up weakly to stretch. 
She straightened up in her chair, beholding him and all the effort he put into seducing her. She nibbled on her lip, letting him stretch and relax before getting up and practically jumping him.
“You’re awesome,” she murmured, bringing him down for a passionate kiss. He moaned in surprise, brows rising before he relaxed into the rapturous kiss. Her nimble fingers worked on quickly unbuttoning his shirt, moving forward with him so he got closer to the bed. 
She pulled away, tongue sliding along her wet lip to watch him sit down and work on getting the belt off. She climbed into his lap, nibbling on his jaw, moving his hands away to finish unbuckling his belt herself, rolling her hips against his throbbing erection before he could get his hands on her.
“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her so tight she couldn’t even move. “Lets play a game,” he suggested suddenly, releasing her when she pulled back and tilted her head at him, perplexed. “First one to make a noise loses.”
“Loses?”
“The right to cum,” he added.
“When you’re this hard?” She asked, making her point by grinding her hips roughly against his. He groaned out a laugh, deep and hot. 
“I’m not the one who’s ovulating,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. She gasped dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest. He held her hips securely to keep her balanced on his lap as she bantered with him, a grin on his face.
“Rude,” she accused playfully, “how dare you use that against me?” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and over to the side so he laid on top of her. He let her manoeuvre him and chuckled. “You’re gonna keep this on, right?” She asked, lightly flicking the beige hat on his head so it moved slightly, but didn’t come off.
“If you really want me to.” He kissed her cheek tenderly.
“I dunno,” she pondered, “I kinda like you naked, too.” 
“Kinda?” He pouted, biting her jaw.
She took the hat on his head and threw it over to her chair, “I really like it when you’re naked, too,” she corrected herself with a loving smile, eyes sparkling. 
“I like it when you’re naked,” he murmured, rocking his hips against hers. She bit her lip hard, trapping a gasp. “We were right about here earlier, weren’t we?” He asked seductively, dropping a quick kiss on her lips. 
The smirk stretching across his face gave away that he knew what he was doing to her. She only nodded in response, focusing on shoving the suit jacket and white dress shirt over his shoulders at the same time. He chuckled at her urgency, standing on his knees between her parted legs to shrug them off calmly. 
She narrowed her eyes at him, shimmying down to begin unbuttoning his pants, zipping them down with one hand and pulling the belt out of the loops with the other before he even got the either article off his arms. 
“Baby,” he laughed, grabbing her thighs and pulling them above his, “slow down.” 
She frowned playfully, “I don’t wanna slow down.” She put her hands on his hips and under his shirt, thumbs tantalisingly brushing against the warm skin of his hip bones. 
“Oh, so, now you want me really bad,” he teased, voice heavy with lust. He leaned back slightly to take her in with her legs spread open over his thighs, soft hair haloing her head, a blush glowing across her cheeks. As he admired her silently, she bit her lip at the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest and broad shoulders.
“I always want you really bad,” she rebutted lustfully, slowly lifting the white t-shirt up his torso. 
“Don’t worry, beautiful, Imma fill you up real good,” he promised in a hushed voice, pulling the shirt over his head, then getting off the bed to pull his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs. “Don’t forget… you can’t make a sound,” he reminded her, crawling back up her body.
“As long as you play fair….” She murmured, bringing him down for a kiss with a hand behind his head. Fingers threaded through his hair and he laughed deeply, dipping down to kiss her. 
“I never play fair,” he mumbled against her mouth. 
Before she could react, he bit her lip and shoved his tongue into her mouth, licking and sucking fervently, hoping to draw sounds from her that would make her lose the game he proposed before he even got started. 
She squirmed underneath him, a whimper of pleasure bubbling up her throat, but poking his ribs made him pull away from her swiftly, “asshole!” 
He laughed breathlessly, leaning on his side, still laying between her legs with his cock leaking and hard against her tummy. He held himself up with his arm resting beside her head and brought his freehand to her face, brushing soft strands away from her grumpy face. 
“I had to try,” he chuckled, tracing the side of her face. 
“I should.. just… get up and walk away,” she threatened playfully, putting a finger on his lips when he tried to dip down to kiss her again. 
“Hey, come on, babe,” he whined. 
She laughed at him, “just fuck me, pretty boy.” 
He pretended to consider her words, slowly sliding the two fingers on her jaw down to her neck, between her breasts, and along her stomach. Her heart jumped and she clenched her jaw while she watched his eyes follow the path of his fingers moving over her body. “I can do that,” he smirked, captivating her in his alluring gaze. 
She grabbed his chin, angling his face towards the light of the lamp, her eyes soft and tracing over the beautiful features of his face, from the gorgeous curl of his golden eyelashes, to the now-pink background where his freckles were splattered along artfully across his nose and cheeks, to the edges of his utterly breathtaking face. His brows pinched together curiously and his swollen, soft, pink lips parted momentarily before closing, his green eyes shyly shifting away from her face. 
“Not like this, though,” he murmured, breaking her trance. She hummed mindlessly, eyes flickering up to his, his words confounding her. 
He looked at her again and then grinned mischievously, standing up just to manhandle her until she was laying on her stomach. She laughed and squirmed, looking at him from over her shoulder, but just as she was about to get on all fours, he pressed his large hand to the small of back, keeping her in place.
“Wait,” she said quickly, eyes widening in realisation when he started to angle himself between her legs. “No! You cheater,” she laughed. He snickered playfully, gripping her thigh and sliding it up to the side with her knee bent to have more access. 
“I aim to please,” he jested, taking his cock and teasing her dripping entrance with the soft head. 
“Yeah, yourself,” she quipped. He snorted, observing the smear of his precum over her clit and inner labia. She didn’t move away or stop him, so he continued to tease her, sliding his cock down to tap her throbbing clit, but she bit down on her lip painfully, sounds straining to escape her throat. 
She screwed her eyes shut as if it would help her concentrate on anything other than the way he teased her and gripped the sheets beneath her hands tightly. After gathering enough of her slick, he started to jerk himself off, coating his throbbing cock—and subsequently his hand—in her arousal. 
He panted heavily and draped himself over her back, depositing loving kisses along her shoulders and neck. Still, nothing could prepare her for the way he thrusted into her. She was so wet, he didn’t even meet any resistance, and he could feel every inch of his cock stroke along the inside of her tightening walls, deeply penetrating her. 
“Jesus Christ,” she moaned involuntarily. 
“Uh, no, it’s Dean, actually,” he chuckled, then slowly started to pull out of her, and paused. “By the way, I, uhhh, think you just lost.” He thrusted back into her roughly and she moaned again, cutting off her sentence before it even began, but he knew it was probably gonna be ‘fuck you’ or something else along those lines. 
He muffled a deep groan against her shoulder and roughly grabbed her hip to keep her still as she squirmed and whined for more. Blunt nails dug into her flesh and she whimpered with each thrust, toes curling every time the soft head of his cock brushed and pressed against her cervix.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her stomach clenched at his words, his low groan causing a flutter to grow in her lower abdomen, all the while her heart skipped a beat and her breath swirled around her chest ecstatically when his lips brushed softly against her pulse. 
“Please,” she whimpered, reaching down to place her hand over the one he had on her hip, holding on tightly. He angled her hips up slightly, picking up the pace, his teeth sinking roughly into the skin between her shoulder and neck. 
He grunted softly, skilfully pulling out so only the head of his cock remained inside her and pushing back into her swiftly, over and over. He fucked into her with enough force to knock the wooden headboard into the concrete walls, hard enough to create an erotic symphony with the sound of her soppy pussy taking him and her skin being impacted by his.
His throbbing cock brushed continuously along the inside of her walls and collided deliciously with her cervix, pulling quiet gasps and low moans from her. Neither of them could stand it. The way she felt wrapped around every inch of him made him so dizzy, he felt like exploding. His muscles ached and burned with effort and he couldn’t stop vocalising his pleasure right into her ear or against her damp skin.
He could feel his orgasm bubbling over and he inhaled sharply to keep it at bay just to keep enjoying the sensation of her body being this close to his, to remain in between the moment of overwhelming pleasure and exquisite torture forever. 
Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation of letting go and spilled into her with a long groan of her name. He deliriously praised and worshipped her as he pressed deeper, the warmth of his semen filling her insides. 
Her walls clamped down on him, her own orgasm looming over her, but even this mindlessly blissed out, she denied herself pleasure for the sake of their game. The heat of his cum resting inside her made her moan, a sensation she began to enjoy since they became ‘serious’. 
He had stilled temporarily, waiting to empty himself into her as profoundly as their bodies permitted before slowly rocking his hips into her again. Once again, he venerated her quietly before pulling out and collapsing breathlessly beside her, his rapidly beating heart returning to its original rhythm.
He gave her ass a playful smack and smiled lazily when she giggled. “You didn’t come,” he murmured, watching dreamily as she turned to face him, and scooted into his side to drop kisses along his collarbone. 
“I lost the right to,” she chuckled, her lips brushing against his neck to suck a mark on his pulse point. 
He moaned softly, snaking his arms under her waist, wrapping around to hold her closer. She lifted her thigh over his hip, pressing herself against him completely, ignoring the warmth of his cum as it dripped out of her. She kissed across his jawline, nibbling gently, and finally claimed his soft lips. 
 “I can’t get enough of you,” she murmured, straddling him. She pressed her chest against his and his hands held onto the sides of her knees fleetingly, then slowly slid upwards. His fingers pressed into her flesh, blunt nails scraping along her silky skin. He squeezed her hips and moved his lips against hers, tongues meeting languidly past parted lips, licking and tasting. 
“That’s just ‘cause you’re ovulating,” he mumbled against her mouth, his hands smoothing up her back to pull her closer. “You usually can’t stand me,” he teased between kisses, chasing her mouth when she pulled back with a playful frown. 
“Right,” she started, a laugh bubbling up her throat. “Between.. loving you more insanely and profoundly than literally anyone else in the entire multiverse… and the possibility of a time ever coming in which I’d destroy every universe for you… where’d me ‘not being able to stand’ you come from?” His eyes flickered across her face, the furrow of her brows, the frown that tugged at her lips. 
He enjoyed the weight of her loaded words, the unspoken words and meaningfulness in between the long stretch of silence between them. More than anything, Dean wanted to establish that she meant every word, but his tongue lay heavy in his mouth and his heart palpitated with a resurgence of desire. She waited for him as a million words hung in the air, but Dean remained speechless, elated—even aroused by her explicit and very intense expression.
She closed her eyes when he reached up to play with her hair. “You’re so selfish,” he murmured, pulling her down for a passionate kiss, cupping the back of her head in his large hand. The other hand snuck between their bodies, parting her from him just to reach between her thighs where she was drenched and needy. 
Mercilessly, he plunged his fingers into her, moaning loudly as his digits brutally slid in and out of her. His palm slapped against her swollen clit and she cried out against his mouth, burying her face next to his to muffle her moans. 
He tugged her hair roughly, forcing her back up and stared rapaciously at her face with parted lips, his cum pooling in his hand and down his knuckles. She fucked herself eagerly on his fingers, brows furrowing in gratification, her nails nearly cutting into the skin of his bicep. 
“So fucking greedy for me. Aren’t you, baby?” He asked breathlessly, his gaze moving down between their bodies as she sank down onto his fingers. 
“Yes! Fuck,” she shouted resolutely. Her pussy clamped down around his fingers, signalling the proximity of her release, she wanted to collapse on him, weak. His green eyes flickered back up to look deeply into her own eyes. 
“Come for me,” he ordered softly, grinding his palm against her clit. “Come on, beautiful… I fucking love you.” 
She cried out his name, squirting around his adept fingers. He let her bury her face in his neck this time, astonished and smug as he fingered her through a clearly intense orgasm. He turned slightly to kiss her temple and her head, his fingers gently massaging her scalp while she attempted to calm her stuttering breaths and wild heart. 
He removed his fingers from inside her, and grinned at the ceiling, “I love when that happens.”
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forzaferraris · 10 months ago
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NOTHING MATTERS — op81
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pairing: oscar piastri x fem! engineering intern! reader
summary: the best way to get over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else and (unintentionally) break theirs. / inspired by nothing matters by the last dinner party, listen on spotify here !
style: primarily written with a single smau element at the end.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex ((p in v) please wrap it before you tap it)), oral (m! receiving) finger sucking, sub/don undertones but nothing serious, i swear on my life oscar piastri is a grunt and groaner but simultaneously considerably vocal during sex (i will die on that rock), afab! reader, readers kinda uncaring about who she hurts because she’s hurt, reader is referred to as she/her, miscommunication trope, oscar piastri has been in love with reader since the beginning of the season and just assumed one-sided pining. authors refusal to write with capitals, you can pry them out of her cold dead hands.
faceclaim: sofia dirado, although feel free to imagine reader as anyone else.
word count: 4.1k +
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YOU WERE NO STRANGER TO HEARTACHE.
you fear it followed you around more often than not, like a dark cloud that covered your entire existence in this bubble of heartbreak that nothing ever felt good to you, nothing was ever worth it. from your parents divorcing after years of suffering in a loveless marriage to every single relationship you’d ever been in never making past the first time you sleep together — you’ve genuinely felt about giving up on life, going so far as to consider a life as a celibate nun or maybe not, perhaps just the life of a girl who burns through multiple packs of AA batteries using her rose toy.
however, when you’d met levi, your first year of finally being allowed to leave the mclaren technology centre to shadow tom stalland during the 2023 f1 season. you genuinely thought this man had reshaped your entire perspective of love, he made love easy, made loving him feel less like a sport and more like a hobby you could never get sick of, being with hom felt like you’d been going through all the “firsts” all over again, like a cheesy romance movie monologue.
and yet, here you are, sat in your hotel room after the japan gp, suzuka has always been your favourite gp to watch and unfortunately for some reason, instead of standing in the mclaren garage doing your job, you’re sat clad in your team clothes (a stark contrast to the white bed linen) and sobbing over a text message paragraph explicitly telling you that levi has decided to break up with you after he fell in love with someone else during the summer break, someone who “rewired his brain chemistry in a ways you could never do.” you want to get angry, you wish you were an angry person, instead when you got angry you cried, when you got too happy or even just laughed too hard you cried, you were a crier.
your heart is heavy, as you scroll through the other woman’s posts, she’s gorgeous, and that’s where you begin your myriad of self deprecating comparisons of you to her. you doom scroll for what feels like forever until you spiral even further down the heartbreak rabbit hole, your attention drawn to the fact that levi had both unfollowed and removed you as a follower at some point between when he said goodnight and then broke up with you the next day. you watch as stories of their summer break spent together is shared and your jealousy sends you into a blind rage that you block the both of them; because ultimately you knew that he will hold her life he used to hold you — for levi was boring, a one trick pony you’re only just now coming to terms with.
your disheveled appearance and self imposed seclusion from the events of the day were not left unnoticed, you’d resigned yourself to just stand on the outskirts, occasionally moving to sit down and watch the screens as the friday practice begun, you’re uninterested, unmotivated and trying your dandiest to not cry, for the sole reason of simultaneously not wanting to draw unwanted attention to yourself and the fact that the mascara you’re bought at the duty free at the airport was most definitely not waterproof.
the good thing was that you’d be in japan for the rest of the weekend, the worse thing was you knew not s language lick of the language — sure you could probably call someone an idiot in japanese thanks to the sheer amount of one piece you’d watched eith levi during days he didn’t want to do anything you had planned or suggested; however, the single knowledge of know the word idiot in japanese will not get her very far. you’re almost too zoned out to notice the first free practice had finished, oscar’s team engineer tom standall dismisses you, tells you that whatever happened before you came to track is to be sorted out before it potentially jeopardises a race and without a word or argument against hai decision you shuffle out of the garage and into the paddock.
“name, hey wait — wait up” a voice you’ve only heard considerable muffled by a racing helmet and through large oversized noise cancelling team gear headphones when you got to play pretend engineer whenever it was during his practice laps and his qualifying laps, it sends a shiver up your spine, always has and you’re unknowing if it always will.
“oscar? hey! you did so good today, from what i say, p3 is so awesome how are you not more elated about that!” you’d found yourself smiling, wide across your face and sinking into the gentle rhythm of the conversation with oscar. the smile he returns is equally as wide as if his whole face were smiling, you want to punch him — the cuteness aggression playing devil on your shoulder.
“oh nah, i am actually it just hasn’t like kicked in gully yet, i’m waiting for the full body visceral reaction i’m about to have,” he pauses for a brief moment, hands itchy to fiddling with something snd find solitude in dragging one hand after the other through his tangled and sweaty hair. “like just, honestly, jesus christ and in japan of all places fuckin’ hell” he seems both simultaneously out of breath and ready to compete in a marathon.
had it not been a considerably formal setting you swore you can picture him jumping up and down on the spot whilst trying to contain all of his excitement, you allow him to be excited not wanting your own mood and misery to overshadow his complete and utter elation at his podium win. it’s the first time in the few days you’d been moping about that the smile you give off reaches your eyes and oscar’s always paying attention to these things, unbeknownst to you of course.
“your excitement is infectious, surely the team have planned something celebratory for you! you’ve gotta celebrate this i’m sure lando is!” you can’t help but practically beam, you’re mesmerised by the excitement the unashamed amount of happiness this boy is oozing and the bitter feeling in your stomach over it all is just barely going by unnoticed.
oscar shakes his head, overs a tiny shrugs and barely gets another word into the conversation you teo ate having before he’s whisked away by the team to be dragged off towards the podium, you watch as he shakes the bottle of champagne onto lando and max. any and all brief untouched moments of happiness are immediately replaced when your phones buzzes, a notification alert from your ring door bell and the video supplied of your now ex boyfriend grabbing whatever stuff he’d left at your apartment. the situation just breaks your heart even further than when with the whole of the mclaren team being called upon for s group shot with both the boys and their podium wins you ignore it and decided you’d had enough of it all.
the hotel’s quiet as you tap your keycard against the inside of your hand waiting for the elevator to come back down, the traffic from the track back to the designated hotel meant you’d wound up leaving just as all the other drivers had and whilst you weren’t in the mood to face anymore interactions you were lucky to bypass the small group of fans loitering in the hotel lobby. the elevator itself is slow, like most and the way your stomach drops at the incline is almost akin to how you felt when you’d first received that break up text at the start of the week.
if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was the fact the hotel had a bar just off the lobby, which is where you’d found yourself, skirt a little too short, shoes a little too high and too the perfect amount of booby that you won’t get in too much trouble but also attract someone willing to take away the ache in your chest for the night.
you’d been sat at the bar for just under an hour, occasionally chatting to some of the other patrons but mostly the bartender herself; the paper straw mushy and impossible to drink out of sits on a napkin as you sip on the glass uncaring or the lipstick mark on the rim or the smudging it does to your own lipstick — in fact you’re hoping something else smudges the lipstick further if the night doesn’t continue to progress as slowly as it is.
“can i get a beer, whatever you’ve got in the bottle and another one of what she’s drinking” there it is again, the chill on your spine and the heightened sense of the hand that brushes past your ear to give the bartender a bank card. every single nerve ending in your body is on fire when the stool beside you in moved and a body now begins to occupy it, perhaps you’re a bit drunk, you’d already had two of these and what if the different alcohol consumption laws you’re unsure how much alcohol is actually in the fruity little cocktail you’d ordered.
“oscar piastri, i thought i told you to go celebrate your podium with lando, why are you still at the hotel?” there is is, a tone you’d never thought you’d use with someone who wass essentially your bosses boss, which therefore makes him your boss, and yet here you are — sultry tone and lips loosened by the alcohol in your system, shamelessly flirting with him.
“well, you see, i’m more of a pub person than i am someone who prefers nightclubs and being touched and bumped into by random strangers, i fear that’s more of a lando thing than my own” oscar laughs, the way he’s relaxed and carefree shows signs he did however, get roped into pregaming with lando beforehand, the neck of the beer bottle sits between his index and middle fingers, a comfortable position one you're sure would feel weird if you so much as tried to mimic.
you fear you're done for when it comes to watching the way his throat bobs as he takes a swig of the larger, it's a japanese brand one you've never heard of nor tried and you can tell oscar hasn't by the way his nose scrunches at the taste, he still continues to drink it though. time seems to float by, growing continually more comfortable with one another to the point you'd sauntered away from the bar stools and are sat perhaps not even an inch apart in a booth in the corner.
"favourite race destination, so far?" "monaco. most definitely, melbournes a close second, but that's just because of a personal bias" "personal bias?" "yeah. . . you."
you'd never thought to combine the flavours of japanese beer and strawberry liqueur, and yet here you were, back-pressed and arched up against the wall beside a hotel room that not yours, the elevator ride was one stop too long to have it be that you'd gone back to your hotel room, hands, not your own, are roaming places never thought to be touched, the bluntness of their nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs has your separating from the kiss to lean your head back and full indulge in the simple pleasures received in this moment. arousal builds when soft lips find the pulse point in your neck, your choice signature scent perfume the most aromatic in that area brings a subconscious reaction from oscar, the thigh between your legs juts up and you also convulse right then and there, your own hands ove from holding the back of his neck to drag through his soft, product-free hair, tugging on the last few strands that slip through your fingers.
the beep of the room door unlocking pulls you to your senses, and a hand tight around your waist drags you inside, you cling onto him in the worst way possible, you can see the smudges of lipstick on the corners of his mouth and god, does he look beautiful. you're unsure for a moment, even if the alcohol had loosened you up a little, you still didn't know how to react around oscar, he's looking at you in a way you can't describe, it makes your stomach flip and you're eager, thighs clenching to distribute the friction of your building arousal. you want his lips on yours again, there's zero space between you, you're simply sharing each other's breath.
his hand finds the back of your neck, tangled in your darkened locks and pulls you back in for a kis, is soft, he must moisturise your brain supplies before it fizzes out, the kiss is messy, all teeth, tongues and spit. you whimper into the kiss, knees buckling, your own hands are on a mission sliding under the hem of his shirt to perfectly feel the warmth that radiates off his skin against your cold hands, you can feel the exact moment your cold touch makes him hiss into the kiss and it finally ignites the fire in your stomach. this is what you want.
you two remain lip-locked until your chest hurts and you've traded the same breath back and forth that it's completely died, when you pull away, you finally take notice of the blown-out pupils staring down at you. his a look entirely of lust, desire, arousal and it shows, especially with the bulge in his pants. your bottom lip finds sanctuary in between your teeth when you raise an eyebrow and one of your hands slips out from under his shirt to palm him through the cargo shorts he'd donned to wear.
if oscar's voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way he groaned at your touch against his bulge chilled you from the inside out, the noise rough and gravelly like he'd not uttered a word in weeks, it's deep and low in his chest that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't practically flush against him. your hand continues to palm him, making riskier moves as your other hand moves to dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants, you don't wait, you don't even need to ask for permission when his own hands are practically shucking off his own clothes for you.
he looks so gorgeous standing right in front of you, the wet patch you can only assume of precum on the front of his boxers has you licking your lips involuntarily, you try to ignore the voices, fight the urgers but you're but a simple girl, eager to please, that you're flicking your gaze up at him as your sink to your knees, the carpet is soft enough against you but you know better and are already seeing the red marks you'll have the next morning.
oscar looks confused for you in the briefest of moments, your nails dragging along his thighs, soft blonde hairs tickle your finger tips and you bite back the sweet giggle you want to let out as you're finally tugging his underwear down. a moment of shock halts your movement, eyes flicking up and down between oscar's gaze and his cock, tip pink, throbbing and leaking — it's a sight to be seen and you're the one who gets to gaze upon it.
your hand wraps around him, fingers barely meeting at the girth and you moan, can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth, your oral fixation working into overdrive, a single flick of your wrist has a louder groan rolling out of oscar's mouth, a quick "fuck" followed after it that as you once again clenching your thighs. your hand sets an easy rhythm, tried and true, one that allows for long strokes at a steady pace and your thumb to swipe between the slit on his tip that has his stomach clenching. his own hand grabs at your hair, both for something to hold onto and to keep it out of our face when you inch closer and allow your tongue to tease his tip with small kitten licks.
"fuck, fuck, name, fuck suck my cock"
the verbalised plea is all you need to finally wrap your lips around the swollen head, the saltiness of his precum mixing with your spit as you moan around him, your tongue swirls around his tip every time you pull back, only to resume bobbing your head and matching the movement of your hand to the pace you set as you take more of him in your mouth, your mouth feels so full and you can practically feel his dick pulse against your tongue when your other hand moves to squeeze his balls.
"holy shit — where did you learn that, fucking hell"
you smile when you pull away, uncaring of the drool that rolls down your chin, oscar seems not to mind either when he's pulling you back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly. he can taste his pre cum still on your tongue and as someone who'd assumed he wouldn't be fond of the idea, seems more or less enjoying it solely because it's coming from your mouth. his tongue overpowers your own and he's licking in your mouth with such severity that you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties, had you been horny before you were now basically unbearably horny at this point.
your clothes feel bothersome, and your top and bra come off rather quick once your legs meet the edge of the bed you'd been pushed back against. the cool air of the hotel room meets your nipples and you gasp out once oscar's hot mouth chooses to settle on one and his hand favours the other. it's magic, that's what you can choose to blame it on, with the way oscar's fingers tug and twist one nipple all whilst his mouth and suck away on the other, your back arches up against him when his teeth graze the sensitive bud and you swear you could achieve your first orgasm of the night just from that alone.
his mouth switches to give the same treatment to the other nipple and yours that tug and pull on his hair only urge him on more, whining and desperate and what you want to happen is not happening. you need him, you crave him, you desire him.
"please oscar, fuck me"
there is it, the words oscar had been waiting to hear since you'd kissed him, and who would oscar be if not someone who listened when he was asked to do something. he sits up on his knees, jerks himself a couple of times as he watches you, skirt rugged up to your hips, a perfect picture, a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful, all for him to bare witness too. you back arches, your eager and needy and positively soaked you don't even need to touch yourself to know, your panties are finally pulled off and you hiss at the air that hits your center. you're clenching around nothing, sticky and sweet, eager, he looks up as your and you nods a final confirmation before you supply a weak "please" before his tip is aligning with your entrance and he's sliding in.
the stretch is everything to you, he is perfect, your hand stretching splayed out against the pillow as the tiniest whine falls from your lips, oscar grunts, face and chest flushed, you can hear exactly how we you are just from the squelch when he finally bottoms out and you moan loud enough that if anyone had been walking past the room they would have heard. oscar doesn't move, allowing for your pussy to stretch and get comfortable around him before you nod, rolling your hips to signal him to move and move he does.
"you're so tight, holy shit."
his hips rock back and forth into you, it's slow and sensual something you hadn't expected, your legs shift and wrap around his hips and your body rocks back against his thrusts willing him to move faster. unlike past partners, oscar seems to get the hint almost instantly as he pulls out and shifts slightly, hand holding onto your hips before he's sheathed himself back into you entirely in a singular thrust.
you moan out, toes curling and your legs wrapping around him so tight as if you'd practically become some sex-fueled boa constrictor. you swear his muscles are working overtime as his abdomen flexes with every deep thrust inside you, your body abuzz with electricity, the fire in your stomach scorching as a particular thrust has him hitting your g-spot and your back arching receptively.
in a world where you'd thought this was ever possible, all imaginations and scenarios have proven wrong already as oscar's thumb finds solace on drawing circles on your clit, causing your pussy to clench around him and a hiss to drag itself from his lips. to oscar you feel amazing and the flush on your face perfect evidence of his inability to be shy about telling you so and all you can do is ooh and ahh in return. something pulls in your stomach when he bottoms out in you again, your leg twitches and you're hyperaware that you'd just orgasmed around him, vocalising how it feels and your back arching however, his hips remain relentless only to come to a halt as he pulls out; your words are stopped as you're flipped over with a gentle tap against your thigh.
arms stretched out in front of you and your back arched, give oscar the perfect view to just take a moment to stare at your fluttering pussy, clenching around nothing as you suffer through a partially stunted orgasm. fingers drag through your folds and your body jerks at the sensitivity, the dip between them, pumping in and out similar to the rhythm he kept previous, his middle finger hooks and your face is thrown forward into the pillow as it hits the spongey feel of your g-spot, you gasp out hand white-knuckling the pillow as he focusses his fingers on that one particular spot
"fuck osc – fuck want you back inside me"
you don't bother with caring much about how whiney and desperate you'd begun to sound, throat dry from the gasping and the continuous noises he pulls from you, your tempting him, ass swaying as he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, he coo's at you as you whine to mourn the loss of the feeling, teases you as he slips the tip of his dick through your flushed red folds and bottom out with a quick hard thrust. you scream out, the pleasure perfectly combining with the sudden stretch to make the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure you'd ever felt and to silence you, the fingers he'd just fucked you with had found the way into your mouth and if there was one thing you were, it was a good girl.
the sounds reverberating around the walls of the hotel room are borderline pornographic, the new pace oscar has set, deep and hard, skin slapping against skin as he practically bounces off you, his free holding your hip steady as your own knees buckle and you can feel the way his dick pulses inside you, the way his movements become sloppy yet still hitting your pleasure spot every time. the fingers in your mouth licked clean of your own arousal now replaced to be covered in your own drool. oscar grunts, his hips snapping against you in a final thurst as he slumps forward to press the most delicate of kisses to the nape of your neck as he feels you up and you cum around him for a second time.
it's messy, whatever hadn't spilt inside you now jerked off onto your back as your knees give out and you slump against the bed. worn out and woozy you're hardly paying attention to oscar cleaning up, the warm washcloth drags along your hot, sticky and sweaty skin in a way that twists your brain and brings out the regret that seeps into your stomach, had your legs not been feeling like they weren't attached to your body you would have scrambled to get dressed and done the walk of shame back to your own hotel room; however, you stay, regretfully.
you don't cuddle, oscar tries not to act hurt about it as you roll over and away from him when he finally climbs in himself. to you this didn't matter, you fucked him, like nothing matters. come the morning you'll be gone before he wakes. because this didn't mean a thing. to you as least.
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yourusername just posted . . . ♫ nothing matters . the last dinner party
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liked by lando.jpg, yourbestfrienduser, lolatung and 11,219 others yourusername and i will fuck you, like nothing matters. load more comments
oscarpiastri oh.
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authors note: please excuse my smut skills, i'm rusty a lil ngl. i love a bittersweet ambiguous ending. if this gets enough recognition and asks, i'll definitely more than likely make a part two or even multiple parts. reminder, if you weren't tagged it means i couldn't find your account.
add yourself to the taglist here !
taglist: @iluminaya @therealcap @marshmummy @@im-an-overthinker @a1leexxa @chasing-liberosis @marauderssworld @nesssywrites @valntynebaby @larastark3107 @justtprachisblog
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sinofwriting · 3 months ago
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Had a good chuckle at the last ask.
Ollie: "so you can watch races from my driver's room if the garage is too much. I'll give you a headset to hear my radio! Or not, if you don't want to! Maybe, you could leave the race on the screen to keep an eye on me. Unless you hate racing! Then you could put on whatever you want! Do you have any hobbies you could do, maybe take some skillshare classes to pass time before I come get you. Not that you need a babysitter! The paddock is super hectic and maybe I'd like to be with as soon as I can and we can go to the hotel quick! Unless you don't want to spend time with me! You could just stay at the hotel all weekend and that's totally cool!"
His wife standing there in F1 merch: "you didn't plan out any of this, did you?"
Ollie would be such a flustered mess! Just pink cheeks, stuttering breaths and words that run into each other. I'm already kind of getting an idea for Ollie's claiming fic too now. Which I don't need considering I've got like 39 wips, lol but this is the life of a writer, lol.
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raphaellathedragon · 2 years ago
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«✿❀-Summers by the Sea Part 2-❀✿»
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Modern!Aegon xfem! Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Word Count: 4118
Warnings: Excessive drinking, partying, and sexual references.
A/N: My writing and fangirling bestie @f4ll-for-you greatly inspired this chapter, ily.
Posting some Aegon II as it is TGC's bday today too! Haha
Hope you enjoy!
You hadn’t seen much of Aegon since he abandoned you on the wet sand, leaving you wanting nothing more than to satisfy him as he did you. In fact, it had been two whole days since he so much as looked in your direction. 
Not even at dinner when you’d ask him to pass the fruit or bread would he attempt to make eye contact, constantly glancing off to under the table where his phone would light up. He would smile down at it, and force you to withstand the tapping of his fingers against the screen. Perhaps something else had his attention, no—someone. 
Someone else.
Spending your days with Helaena outdoors was pleasant, for the both of you traveled down the sea to look for beetles and sand crabs hidden below the surface of the shoreline.
The same sea where Aegon pulled you close to him, gripped your waist as he gripped his cup, and kissed your mouth with adoration seen only in 18th-century set romance films. 
It was comedic, really. 
Your mothers had always joked that you would end up falling in love with Aemond or Aegon, and get married, only sealing their motherly friendship bond further. 
But that was before Aegon had exhibited self-destructive behavior… before he became unrecognizable…and before Alicent even disliked him to the point where she couldn’t watch the two of you hold each other in a deep embrace.
You wondered why she would have looked away in disgust, though. Was she sure that Aegon would poison you with his impulsive, deadly choices?
Though hard to admit, it seemed he already had.
But! Today was going to be a good day; there would be no thinking about Aegon…and how you fit against each other like missing puzzle pieces that were found and finally aligned. 
You looked around your room, pulled on a pair of black Ray-Ban sunglasses, and brushed your hair till it softened beneath the touch—the wind had picked up the past few days, and the knots made it show.
The sun was bright in your eyes and boiling against your skin as you walked outside the house, greeting Alicent and your mom, who sat in white, reclined lawn chairs beside the pool with drinks sprawled into their hands. 
“Daeron was looking for you, Y/N,” smiled Alicent as she took a sip of her smoothie.
You clapped your hands together in and spun back towards the door of the house, but before leaving you returned a similar grin, “Okay. I’ll go find him,”
Daeron always came to you to participate in mischief or revel with you in the pleasures of his hobbies. It was enjoyable, after all; who knew that you could fly a homemade slingshot up 70 feet in the air?
You looked around the house and then through the lawn, but no Daeron was in sight. 
Where could he have gone off to?
But then you thought back to last summer when he claimed that he would be able to seduce the people in the nearby town with only a smirk and ripping his shirt upwards to reveal his undertoned stomach. 
Yep. That’s where he would be.
In the town. 
Quickly, you dragged your turquoise bicycle out of the garage and made your way to town, waving at the people walking by who sported flip-flops, swimsuits, and sun hats that drooped down to their eyes. 
And upon arriving, seeing only the first few shops which radiated primary colors on their exteriors, there was Daeron, spinning in circles, winking at bystanders, and sticking out his belly button for all to see. 
You laughed, jumping off your bicycle and holding your hand up to your mouth, "Daeron! Stop that!" 
"Y/N, I was trying to find you earlier outside," he exclaimed, throwing down his shirt and taking your hand in his as you locked parked your bike with a ring-lock on the side of Baratheon Bridals. 
“Well, Daeron, it makes sense you couldn't find me. I was in my room,"  
He then let out a deep sigh and continued on, ignoring that he barely opted to surveying the house for you, "So, I overheard my brother, you know, the moody one-"
You scoffed, “I’m sorry, you are going to have to be more specific than that because, as far as I recall, they are both a little moody-" 
Daeron chuckled and clarified, "Aemond. Aegon isn't really moody; he is just an asshole."
“I suppose that’s true.”
"Anyway, I overheard Aemond talking to that old woman that somehow wants him although she is like older than mom about a party tonight on the beach,” Alys, "And… I was hoping you would go with me 'cause you know you're like the life of the party!" 
You squinted even under your glasses to decipher where that was coming from, "Daeron, you have been to a party with me once, and you know I don't particularly enjoy drinking,"
He squeezed your hand and smiled, "Yes, but come on. It will be so much fun. You don’t have to drink anything if you don’t want to. You know that.”
Unwanted thoughts then fluttered around in the back of your mind.
Aegon might be there…Aegon would be there. 
It was a party after all. 
"Fine." You muttered, secretly letting your intrusive thoughts win. 
Daeron then applauded with a boom, causing onlookers to shudder away from the loud commotion.
After a couple of hours passed, you were in your room running your hands through the pile of clothes you had still neglected to unpack, pulling your hands every which way in search of the perfect outfit. 
You wanted to look adorable, actually not adorable, sexy. 
You had mentioned to Helaena that you were going out, and her eyes twinkled her happiness at the prospect of her girlfriend having a night out. Still, she declined to accompany you, as she previously expressed her distaste for loud noises and heavy crowds. 
And even though you had told yourself that you wouldn't think about Aegon anymore, you couldn't help but imagine him at the party tonight, lips entwined with another, driving his body up against theirs under the stars just as he did with you. However, this time beer or vodka would trace his tongue, and he would be wild because of it. 
If he was going to become animalistic, feral, yet carnal, it needed to be with you. Only you.
Then you thought back to searching for an outfit.  There it was, a pretty scarlet bikini that made you pop in all the right places; it was the suit Baela and Rhaena bit their lips at when you wore it at late spring pool parties. And you remembered you packed a matching red sarong to wrap around your waist.
But! It wasn't fair that he didn't say anything, that he didn't so much as look in your direction even when your glares urged him otherwise. It was cowardly; you couldn't believe there was a time when the two of you were inseparable. 
Not knowing each other at all seemed to be something he had taken a liking to. 
Footsteps clattered across the floorboards confirming that it was the hour of the wolf; Aegon and Aemond were leaving. 
It clear Aemond would disapprove of Daeron attending, so you and him decided to leave a couple of minutes after the them. 
Eventually, after looking yourself up and down in the mirror a couple more times, Daeron came and pushed the door open, "Wow, someone is looking good!" 
You smiled and playfully pushed your hand across his arm before making your way with him to the beach lit up with campfires, crowds of people, drinks scattered in bottles across the sand.
"Sweet," Daeron nodded in approval before beginning to walk off to a girl on the other side of the beach who was waving him down.
What! 
"No! Daeron!" you exclaimed, looking around the waterfront in confusion. 
Daeron only turned his head back and nodded, "You got this, Y/N!" 
Without warning, you spotted Aemond interwoven with Alys on the edge of a bench, ignoring anyone who gathered around as he sweetly kissed her. He didn't seem to have a care in the world, which was good for him. Maybe she was good for him; he needed to loosen up.
Then, as you turned your head back into the direction Daeron had traversed off to, you caught another wave of silvery hair. His locks flew slightly with the breeze and he was wearing the same swim trunks that cupped his hips just where they needed to.
Aegon.
He laughed into a girl's tits, licking his way up as alcohol poured between her breasts as another man leaned a can over her shoulder. You listened as she let out sweet, playful giggles and observed as he grabbed her face, pressing a solid kiss against her lips before letting go and screaming, "Who's next?!" 
You realized maybe coming was a bad idea. There was no world in which you should have confirmed how little he cared about you. Sometimes ignorance was truly bliss. 
But you couldn't let him win. He humiliated you by leaving on your back against shore and refusing to acknowledge you.
He was going to pay for this. 
You saw one of the guys Aegon was standing with, looking you up and down, taking in the entirety of your body and outfit, admiring you—practically clawing at you from across the sand, and he was, really, cute.
He had a sweep of dark, chestnut hair and a charming smile. Not to mention, as he lifted his arms, you saw an invitation. 
Your feet began to move faster than your mind, and you picked up the bottle of tequila that was lodged in the ground in front of you, dragging it up to your lips, uncaring of the consequences to come. 
The liquid flowed through your lips and down into your throat. 
You winced, but the pain of the spicy, sweet flavors was nothing compared to the revenge you wanted. The revenge you needed.
With haste, you walked up to the boy, watching as Aegon shifted his gaze ever so slightly, realizing that you were here, and you just saw him taste the chest of another ever so eagerly. 
The boy grinned widely, and you took that as your cue to fly into him, pressing your lips together with his and traveling your hands across his chest with demand. 
He left you no room for you to feel unwelcomed, lining his hands firmly against your sides, one even dropping to hold your ass. You even noticed him harden at just the touch and kisses alone but you bit his lip back and pulled back from him to take another swig of tequila, not even grimacing this time at the sour that fell deep into your system.
“Some for me?” the boy whispered, grabbing the bottle while keeping a hand against your backside.
“I want you to lick it off of me first, just as he did with her,” you breathed, loud enough for everyone around to hear, looking back at Aegon, whose eyes were wide and mouth dropped slightly in irritation. He no longer avoided your gaze; he looked on the verge of rage, tears biting at the corners of his eyes.
Good. 
You then got a good look at the girl whose tits Aegon had in his mouth and smiled, it wasn’t her fault, and Gods, was she sexy, but she chose the wrong guy. 
“You’re too hot for him,” you muttered to the girl before turning back to the dark-haired boy who looked hungrier than ever for a taste of your skin. 
You stood on your toes and pressed a deep kiss again against his lips before grabbing the bottle out of his grasp, feeling the effects of your chugging all of a sudden—the world blurring slightly to where you laughed at your own free will before tilting your head back and running the liquid down your front.
He wasted no time, his mouth opened, touching your skin while his tongue traced the lines of wetness, forcing you to giggle at the desperation.
When he was finished, you changed the bottle of tequila in your hand for the bottle of vodka in Aegon’s, pushing the substance into his chest while pulling the other out of his unmoving fingers.
“Vodka has always been my favorite,” you laughed before drinking it, spinning around in a circle, falling back into the random boy, and letting his arms catch you. 
Aegon threw the bottle into the ground and looked back up at you, his platinum hair falling slightly between his newly teary eyes, “Y/N,” he muttered before walking off into the distance. 
As the party continued, you hadn’t realized how much you had drank, and how distorted your perception of reality had become. The music went loud then quiet, in then out, as you spun in circles, jumped between lovers, and danced, pulling your sarong off and letting your skin touch closely with the girls who wanted to dance intimately under the gleaming night sky.
The contact felt electric, like lightning bolts engraved into your skin, and laughter caused you to topple over, losing your balance. 
You saw Aemond make his way over after he had been watching you for some time to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.
Without any indication, he pulled you to the side away from the crowds, “Y/N, you need to go home now.”
This new stern Aemond was interesting, to say the least, “What are you, my dad, now?” 
“Fine. You leave me no choice,” With that, he picked you up and tried to carry you from the deafening bustle. 
“Get off of me!” You whined, hitting his back as he pushed you further up his chest to where you fell over his shoulder. 
This was not a fight you planned to lose. Why wouldn’t he just let you have fun? Aegon did this all the time! Why was it suddenly a crime when you do it?
You squirmed and picked up one of your hands to motion a signal for help, motioning to your dreamy brunette, who made his way after you, pulling your arms from Aemond’s back forwards, toppling you over the top. 
“Ow!” You cried as you hit the sand like a rock, but then your feet spoke too soon once more, carrying yourself upwards and making a run for it with the boy. 
“Y/N!!” You heard a shout after you in anger. 
Aemond shook his head in distaste and bit down on his lip; you were fucking relentless. But he realized now you were not his problem to fix, and he headed back toward Alys, who rolled her eyes and spread herself down on her side in the sand. 
You ran to the shoreline together and pumped your fists at the sky, cursing Aemond, who tried to take the party away from you. 
What a buzzkill!
The boy then tried to push his lips into yours, but you realized a sickening contagion was spreading in your stomach. The stars above began to twirl, and you couldn’t hold your balance and fell into him for support.
Then, he tried again, dipping his head low to press a kiss to your lips, “No!” you blurted out, all while hearing footsteps travel up behind you. 
The boy was visibly annoyed, “C’mon!” 
“Dude, she doesn’t fucking want to,” you hear a familiar voice say, but your eyes don’t allow you to see clearly, only snips of pearly white hair and lavender blots for eyes.
You wanted to focus and see who was there but your stomach cried out, and your vision dimmed, causing your body to fall weightlessly into the sand with nobody to catch you. 
"Fuck!” the recognisable voice exclaimed.
Aegon ran to you immediately, pushing the guy aside, "Get the fuck out of here!" He shouted before climbing down to look down at your limp body in front of him. 
He grabbed your face, pushing himself down far enough so he could sink his head down to your nose to make sure your breath hadn’t thinned, “Can you hear me? Y?N?" 
When no response greeted him, he groaned, "How much did you drink?!”
Aegon needed to get you to a bathroom quietly and quickly without waking Alicent or your mom. 
"Ow!" you snickered, feeling the weight of the hand on your face.
“Y/N?” 
"Shhhhhhh! I am sleeping." 
You picked up your pointer finger and pressed it firmly against your lips, "You are waking a giant! Fee-fi-fo-fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman! Be he alive, or be he dead! I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!”
"I see that I am waking a giant indeed, but sweetheart, we need to get you inside," he chucked, with worry slipping through each crack in his voice.
You drew your hand up and pinched his nose, "I think I know you; you're pretty," then with a scrunch of your nose, you continued, "I would compliment you some more, but I think I am gonna be sick,"
With a turn, you gripped your stomach, let out a cry of pain, and arms surrounded you from the front and pulled you into them, your body in a ball against Aegon's. It was time to get you out of here. 
He held you, making sure there was no way you could leave his grasp, or leave him at all. And as he watched you tilt your head back in torment, he pressed a light kiss to your brow, trying to get you to calm down. 
It was your first time being wasted; he knew that. Aegon had always known you hated feeling ill at all so you refused to drink more than one glass of wine at dinner.
Your arms reached around his neck, and you relished the gentle, warm touch that enclosed you. The house doors drew open softly, and the boy took you up the stairs, making sure not to step on any cracks that would make you jump with the noise. 
Alicent and your mom would already have been swept into the night by dreams, allowing Aegon to accompany you into the bathroom.
"I don't feel very good," you reiterated quietly as he set you up against the toilet seat, sweeping your messy hair out of your face. 
It was clear that you would need a shower before being tucked safely into bed too, for sand was woven into your hair, and alcohol swam across your skin, making you reek of a mixture of the substances. 
But first, Aegon needed to get you to throw up. 
After brushing the hair out of your face, he gathered it in one of his hands and sat down beside you, kissing your cheek sweetly, "We are gonna have to get you to vomit," 
There it was. Throwing up was always one of your greatest fears. It was known to all that you would roll down a hill blindfolded rather than regurgitate anything. 
Your chest started to rise and fall quickly, and your hands began to vibrate, shaking, "I can't," you began to cry, tears falling quicker than you could catch them. 
"Yes, you can, angel. I am right here."
Your hands kept wiping at the water slipping down your face, your nose continually scrunched, sniffling, and you felt kisses frequently against your neck, and a voice breathed, "Baby, it will be okay, come on."
"I can't," you whispered back, the worries transforming from fear of vomiting to worry that you were losing Aegon forever. 
Every summer, he was your safe haven, the laughter on a day when the sun hides behind the clouds in the exhaustion of shining. He was the sweetness only a honey cake could dream of providing. 
There was a time when he would tickle you up against your mattress and wait till you were out of breath to slump down next to you and look into your eyes.
And the past two summers, he was scarce. Gone. And you didn't want to add another summer to the list—a third summer without his playful demeanor. 
Helaena was one of your closest friends, it was true, but losing Aegon not only left a damper on summers by the sea but a deep thunderous empty hole in a heart that was once full. 
It was selfish of you to admit to yourself, but it was true. 
"I can't lose Aegon," you said accidentally out loud in a sob but realized there was no harm in admitting it as your pain had swelled to where no veil could hide it anymore. 
"What?" Aegon exchanged, taking his mouth away from your soft skin to get a better look at your face.
"He doesn't care about me anymore. We would only see each other in the summers, but still, he was like my best friend," you raised a hand to your mouth, trying to stop your blubbering from continuing, "I think he doesn't want me at all anymore. The past two summers, all he has done is ignore me. I know we are getting older, but I just thought-"
"You thought what, angel?" 
"I thought he might have liked me because he kissed me, that maybe since we aren’t kids anymore, have something genuine,”
Aegon felt as though he was about to cry, too, tears begging for release. He hadn't thought she had cared about him. And he also realized that she likely didn't know it was him sitting with her now. 
And yet, she still talked about him with affinity, a sense of compassion he had not felt in years.
His mother believed him a disappointment, and it wasn't like he could find solace in his siblings. Aemond was usually grumpy, Helaena off in her thoughts, and Daeron uncaring about the world around him. 
Aegon believed he left you on the beach not because he wanted to but because he couldn't burden you with the knowledge he wanted you to please him. He didn't think himself deserving of your touch, the touch of sweet Y/N. 
Moreover, he couldn’t think about spoiling her. Because it seemed he ruined everything he touched. 
And he sure as hell didn’t know how to treat a girl properly, because in his mind, he cared deeply about you. His actions, however, always fell short.
Having accessible, forgettable hookups were his favorite event. And while he enjoyed them, there was never any obligation to do them twice, to show the animal beneath his skin.
When he saw you on the beach, under the touch of another, he came face-to-face with the extent of his desire for you. He did care, but he could never care for you; how was he supposed to?
“My angel,” he exhaled as he let his dead drop back into the crook of your neck, pressing a prolonged kiss once more to your delicate skin, “My sweet angel.” 
There was a vulnerability in himself, and even he had never encountered it before. It was a good thing you weren't likely going to remember this.
“Oh no,” you wailed as you twisted your head forwards in the direction of the toilet bowl, and Aegon brought himself backward and gripped the web of your hair tightly.
You dry-heaved, trying to vomit, “I can’t.”
Aegon stuck his fingers into your mouth without warning, and you threw up swiftly before sinking back against the floor in disgust and exhaustion.
Then, Aegon turned on the shower and placed you in the tub, refusing to take off your bikini while he sat down behind you. Slowly, he dragged a soapy washcloth against the dirty patches of skin. And when he could get you far enough under the water, he scrubbed at the sand and dirt in your hair, trying to wash as much as possible without you squirming every which way.
Eventually, after he dried you off, you claimed you were too tired to make it to your bed, and he picked you up as he did when he brought you through the house doors and set you into bed, pulling the covers up and around you. And when he saw you snuggled your way around the bed like a worm into the warmth, he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.
He knew he needed to figure out what to do with you; continuing to ignore you seemed cruel, but he wasn’t good at being constantly with a girl. 
These thoughts would keep him up tonight. 
There would be an answer soon, he hoped.
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jesuis-melodrama · 2 years ago
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The Aesthetics of Miraculous' Main Cast Pt. 2
Due to popular request, a second instalment based on the series' deuteragonists and tritagonists.
5. Tsurugi Kagami // Indie
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Hear me out.
First of all, like with all aesthetics, there's no concrete definition for what constitutes as 'indie', although most people have a pretty definite idea of what shouldn't be. Indie is one of the widest aesthetics out there, bordering on multiple other sub-genres connected to a mish-mash of specific architectural, cultural, and musical styles.
But for Kagami, what I constitute as "indie" for her is simply a strong attraction to independence and individuality.
I don't think there's two better words to describe Kagami, out of all Miraculous characters, even the main deuteragonist cast, Kagami stands out because she has always been a girl who gets what she wants when she wants it, at times breaking the signature Miraculous limits of being reset back to default at the end of each episode. She remembered her disdain of Adrien, and although still cares deeply for him, never forgot the wound she obtained from him either.
Unlike all the other rich kids of Miraculous, Adrien, Chloé, Félix, and even Lila to a debatable degree, Kagami has always been far stricter and more formal in manner. This is does not, however, means that she is content to conform with her situation and blend into her mother's desires for her. No, Kagami has demonstrated capabilities to be far more rebellious than even our resident rogue superhero, surprising him at instances, and her adamant dedication to her drawing hobby, despite her mother's clear verbal disapproval, cements the strength of her indie personality. Moody independent loyalty, above all else.
We've never seen Kagami wear any other outfit apart from her fencing gear, kimono, and blazer-ed school uniform, and the audience certainly isn't aware of what her room or house looks like, but I imagine Kagami would be rather casual and grunge in sartorial terms. Preferring a good pair of comfortable, worn-in sneakers which are prime for running and other physical activities, rather than heeled shoes. Soft denim, fitted t-shirts, and relaxed bomber jackets with patterns of bright orange tigers and candy-red koi fish are also on the menu.
In terms of decorating her room – perhaps something like the image I provided above, granted with a lot more red and a couple prints of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's scattered around.
6. Luka Couffaine // Grunge
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Grunge is defined by music. Having started off in the hard rock scene of Seattle, Washington, the popular grunge fashion sense – worn denim with holes at the knees, flannel, Converses, and oversized jackets – was once the uniform of preceding alternative rock bands to the likes of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and 7 Year Bitch.
There's a general idea of hopelessness infested within grunge circles. Usually young teens with little faith in their futures or the adults/world around them, left to partake in aimless activities such as attempting to start off their band from their garage-offices, or smoking marijuana in the basement of their parents' house.
But a larger, more significant portion of grunge is about counterculture, rejecting the expensive and the mainstream, the manufactured and the perfected, for what is authentically human. In musical terms, this means hand-played instruments over recorded pieces and studio voices versus autotune.
I don't think there's a better way to describe Luka other than authentic. His grunge-style outfit and characteristic dyed hair aside, his rather angsty backstory as being the secret son of a rock icon, Luka is a genuine and honest person, who has seldom lied on screen (rather difficult to do when the series circles around hiding superhero identities from romantic interests), and never shied away from saying what would be tormenting and embarrassing to another person.
Congratulations to Luka for making the first, full love confession to his love interest in Season 3. It may have been blatantly disregarded since, but Luka did it, clear words right in Marinette's face, he did not conform to his peers' habits of sneaking around and attempting to find shortcuts.
7. Félix Fathom // Preppy
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Since I've found out Félix is part-American, this aesthetic suits him far more.
There is an aspect to Félix that is Old Money, much like Adrien, semi-canon or not, apparently both boys have blue blood within them, as Emilie and Amélie are both alluded to being some form of English aristocracy. But what differentiates Preppy from Old Money, and indeed what separates Félix from Adrien, is sociability.
Félix does not suffer the serious curfews and heavily regimented household dynamic Adrien does, he's free to do what he wants, when he wants, and according to this show, that includes committing cross-country felonies with the aid of his loving mother.
Much like Old Money, Preppy is characterised by wealth, and a penchant for materialistic objects. Félix lives in a London penthouse, BTW, if anyone doubts his ability to showcase his upper-class background. Plus: his outfit. Apart from Kagami, and that appears to be a school uniform that she pairs off with sneakers, Félix shows up to nearly each scene he's in with a waist-coat, black tie, and dress shoes. Not even Papillon/Papillombre/Monarch can beat that level of suave.
What also defines Preppy, a rather negative aspect which shines it out from other luxury aesthetics, is that partakers in this particular kind of sub-culture are known for elitism, looking down on those who are financially not on their level, or destitute in etiquette.
From the moment he arrived on-screen, Félix had been plentiful with his disdain, letting it be very well know who he despises or think little of.
8. Zoé Lee // Art Hoe
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Zoé wants to be an actress. You can't get more artistic than that, and considering family dynamics, having a career goal alone places Zoé as far from the Chloé alignment as possible.
Art Hoe is an aesthetic based around nature, a love for art, and (usually) women. While the specific art form in particular is usually paintings related to the pop-art, graphic, and modern and post-modern genre, there are plenty of indie and alternative films such as the works of Andy Warhol, David Lynch, and Wong Kar-wai's, surreal, dream-like pieces which fits into the spacey, high culture requirements.
Not to mention, Zoé's outfit. From her bright turquoise beanie to sunshine-yellow jeans. Zoé's dabbles between tough masculinity with her leather jacket and quirky femininity with her blocky flower shirt. Her shoes are perhaps the most vibrant aspect of her ensemble, with quite a sombre backstory – "Yeah, I've written every nice thing that anyone's ever said to me, to keep them with me all the time." "But there's only one message!" "I only had one friend." – speaking of both her colourful personal style, but subdued persona.
I can see Zoé wearing mom jeans and painted overalls, slugging Kånken backpacks over her shoulder and donning striped Van Gogh socks.
To cap-off her Art Hoe requirements, the aesthetic focuses heavily on DIY, which Zoé proves by painting her own daily shoes.
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creations-by-chaosfay · 2 years ago
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Goals for 2023
I had a lot planned for 2022, but the year of madness made it virtually impossible to reach all those goals. The IRS requiring I pay back the "no strings attached" stimulus check because I'm a "non-contributing" citizen, aka Disabled, was just the beginning. Then the eviction without cause, seeking out a new rental and finding none, searching for a house to buy within our limited budget (yay for first time home buyer programs), arranging the move, the person handling the paper failing which then resulted in delaying the move and losing all our cold and frozen groceries, the former landlord trying to pull illegal nonsense with keeping our deposit (threatening small claims court changed their mind), Husband starting a new job, contracting covid and spending weeks recovering, Husband's grandmother passing away, euthanizing Jasper due to cancer, long term effects of covid (severe inflammation in my ears) and being treated for it, and now we're at the end of the year. All this delayed or prevented me from being able to start and finish projects in time for the holidays.
But we did have good things happen. We're now homeowners, Husband requested he be moved to a different location and position, which has been granted, successfully acquiring commissions, sell what I've made, recover from covid, purchase a new cutting table, sewing chair, and sewing desk, finished quilt tops, starting and finishing little things like ornaments and coasters, and soon we shall see about replacing our garage door with a wall in order to turn the space into a library and D&D game room. 
I'll keep my goals for 2023 very simple and far more achievable. The long term effects of covid have left me with my eustachian tubes (tubes in your ears) inflamed. This resulted in partial deafness for a few days, with zero equilibrium, pressure in my head that had me feeling like it was going to pop off as though it were a cork on a bottle of shaken bubbly wine, and in pain. I'm on powerful medications right now, and the side effects are enough that I'm not comfortable standing for long periods of time and my hands are unsteady. This will pass in a couple weeks, and my ears have improved quite a bit. It likely won't be until the middle of January before I really get back to work in my sewing room.
Now let's focus on the sewing and art goals I have for 2023, shall we?
Make at least three lap size quilt tops, measuring no less than 50x50 inches. All the quilt patterns and fabric I have pulled meet the criteria, and these are fairly simple patterns. It'll make for quick work once I get to it. These quilt tops will be listed on the commission page later, providing a clear image of what the finished quilt will look like. More on that later.
Make a bookshelf wall quilt for the bedroom. A bookshelf quilt is simply a quilt that looks like a bookshelf. I high recommend using a search engine and checking out what you find. They're often made using foundation paper piecing. Most of the blocks I'll be using are free, but I there are several I plan on purchasing. This will hang on the wall at the head of the bed, made using patterns that reflect the interests and hobbies my husband and I have. It won't be a show piece, but something to make the bedroom have less of an echo and have a much more homey effect.
Open commission in April 2023. The commissions will have finished quilt tops as mentioned above. Several clients informed me this gave them more confidence about results. People unfamiliar with quilting may find it difficult to "see" the quilt in their mind. Having the information there on the screen makes it easier to decide on commissioning me. They can then choose which quilt I work on. This gives me more focus, and I also don't end up with several finished quilts taking up limited space while they wait for a buyer. 
Make at least one queen size quilt for home. I want to make a warm weather quilt, something light and breathable, and very colorful. I have two queen size quilts from my mom, but they're earth tones, nothing vibrant. I do have one finished quilt top that qualifies, and that one I intend to have machine quilted by a local quilter. The fabric and pattern were a gift from my mom, which I love, but I want to make something a little more personal and handquilt it. 
Make a sampler quilt. This will also fit in with a couple of the other goals. What's a sampler quilt? It's a quilt make using many different blocks that don't repeat. You get to sample different blocks and designs this way. I have fabric set aside for a sampler quilt, and have found a pattern I like. I might keep it, seeing as it's queen size, though it will likely be placed on my commission page.
Create at least three tree wallhangings that will be placed in my shop. I had hoped to make these this year, but things didn't quite work out that way. I intend to start these early, and make them using scraps. They're small enough that I can machine quilt them comfortably. 
Make more pins and magnets. These are tiny things, about 1.5x1.5 inches. Easy and quick to make, but I haven't had the energy or focus to make them this year. I hope to make at least 10 batches of four, and spread the work throughout the year.
Close commissions in August 2023. Depending on what sort of commissions I have, it may be earlier. This will provide me with time to make more holiday quilts. I know August may sound early, but keep in mind my work takes weeks and even months to finish. A December quilt is best started in September in order to have it finished by November.
Reach my Ko-Fi goals. I intend to purchase a filing cabinet, a printer that uses toner, vertical storage for my sewing room (hanging baskets, tack board, shelves), and fabric (I'm out of yellow, low on orange, very low on prints in black, white, grey, and black & white combinations). Commissions and successfully selling what I have in my shop, plus donations, will cover these quite nicely.
Learn how to make my own pants and shorts. I'm barely 5'2" or 1.57 meters tall, aka very short, and pear shaped. Women's clothes for short people tend to assume we're also very thin. Finding clothes that fit and match my style and preferences is virtually impossible. If I want something I like, I'll have to make it myself. When I was a teenager, my favorite shorts were a pair my mom made for me using Hawaiian prints. I wore them to the point of threadbare, and have missed having such wild shorts. Plus, they went to my knees, and most of women's shorts are too short and tight for me to be comfortable. Making my own pants will also be great because I prefer mine very baggy, wide leg and not boot cut/bell bottom. Finding those has, in fact, been impossible. Once I learn how to make my own, I will be a very happy lady.
These are all achievable, especially with the help of clients, supporters, and members. Member will, of course, have the option of commissioning me earlier. Commissions will be open for them starting probably in mid-March, giving them first dibs. If you want to have this early advantage, sign up to be a member here. It works like a friendly version of Patreon. I currently have just three members, resulting in $29/month in support. Members also receive and automatic 15% discount in my shop and on commissions, as well as a few other goodies you can read there.
Thank you for taking the time to read this. As a show of gratitude, use 2023GOAL for a 20% discount in my shop. It expires January 2nd, so use it soon. 
I hope 2023 treats us well, with a dull and uneventful year, a time of calm and recovery from the madness we have enduring since 2020. Remember to take care of yourself, especially in regards to wearing a mask so as not to get sick or make others sick. Wash your hands, treat yourself and those around you with kindness, and find things to look forward to. Give yourself an achievable goal, make them easy, and reward yourself when you have reached them. Don't be shy or ashamed of asking for help; we are mortal and no one can truly survive entirely on their own. Find something to look forward to, be it a new game that's coming out, finishing a book you've been reading, whatever simple thing that will provide you with gratitude and happiness. May 2023 be a happy new year.
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discountdyke · 24 days ago
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actually since i cant stop looking at zillow recently this is my dream house: large backyard with mature trees, kitchen big enough for 2 ppl to move around in and lots of cabinets, music room to house all our instruments but also a real piano???? as well as my keyboard, separate offices for me and elise that could also double as craftrooms for our separate crafting hobbies, basement/garage space where we could potentially do some woodworking and other assorted messy crafts, lots of windows, screened in porch ideal but a nice deck also works. 2 full baths??? i miss having a nice bath. a nice looking fireplace (im seeing too many weird modern fireplaces online)
i think most of this is achievable if some rooms get combined, like crafting or office could go in basement or sitting room or whatever. i would also like the house to be affordable, in a convenient location, and not look ugly on the outside but mostly we need a big kitchen and a big yard to garden in lol
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venvzn · 28 days ago
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California Craftsman Part I
Lot Type: Residential | Lot Size: 40x30 | Beds: 2 | Baths: 2 | Lot Value: §112,162 Location: Mirage Park — Del Sol Valley | Mods/Hacks/CC: None
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The California Craftsman is a cozy, single-story family home, designed to fit perfectly on the Inner Circle lot in the Mirage Park neighborhood of Del Sol Valley. Modeled after the classic [California Craftsman] homes in [Los Angeles, California] this home is ideal for a family of four.
Exterior
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The front porch overlooks the spacious lawn and features a vibrant assortment of potted plants. It's the perfect place for Sims to socialize with the neighbors, or simply be porch-nosey.
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The back porch includes a propane grill, and leads out to the backyard and patio dining area.
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The yard space in the backyard is quite spacious. Even with the basketball hoop, there's enough space for Sims to plant a garden. However, you can maximize your space by removing the hoop, making enough room for a treehouse or a jungle gym.
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The pathway leads to the detached garage/hobby studio, and Sims can exit towards the back alley through the driveway. Note: The white SUV is a debug deco item, as well as the brick wall and graffiti.
Interior
Detached Garage / Hobby Studio
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The garage is a hobby enthusiasts' dream. It's loaded with several skill-building activities.
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The garage is perhaps the highlight of this home, simply for its multifunctional purpose. It's an isolated studio for music producers; it's a garden shed for botanists; it's a well-equipped workshop for handy Sims! With so many activities and skills to explore, your Sims will never be bored.
Entrance / Living Room
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The cozy vibes are felt as soon as Sims enter the home.
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The living room comes well-furnished with 2 loveseats, a wall-length fireplace, a flat-screen TV & gaming console, a stereo system, and pet toy box. With the open floor plan, it's easier to make space for a Christmas tree during the holiday season.
Front Hallway / Attic
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The stairway to the attic is inconspicuously located in the front hallway.
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Aside from storing household items, holiday decorations, and the treadmill that your Sim hardly uses, the attic also doubles as an art studio, featuring a painting easel and a costume closet.
Kitchen / Dining Room
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This is the type of kitchen your kid Sims will reflect back on in college, when they start missing those home-cooked meals.
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The kitchen is fully-loaded, offering enough counter space for Sims who enjoy cooking together, and the laundry machines are neatly tucked away in a corner closet.
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The dining room offers the perfect setting for countless family dinners.
Home Office
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If there's ever a time to stand on business, your Sim will do it here.
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The quiet home office will be your Sims favorite place to get computer work done, relax with a book, or hone their piano skills — Listen, one thing your Sims won't be in this house is unskilled, okay?!
Hallway Bathroom
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Of the two bathrooms in this home, the hallway bathroom is the one available to guests.
Continue to Part II: Bedrooms & Floor Plans
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u-build-it · 2 years ago
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Best Choice for Your Untidy Garages
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Many homeowners only use their garages as places to park their cars or to keep items like equipment and yard supplies. However, some homeowners are beginning to think about the advantages of adding a Screen in your garage door, which would enable them to add a completely new usable room to their house.
The "lifestyle screens" that come with garage doors are made of a layer of netting screening that keeps out undesirable factors like pests while letting in key attributes like clean air and a pleasant breeze. Simply put, a garage screen transforms your garage into more of a practical outdoor living area for your home. Budget or do-it-yourself garage door screens can cost a few hundred dollars, while custom-fitted and installed screens can cost up to a few thousand dollars.
Should you consider installing screens in your garage?
More people these days are using their garages as extra space within their current homes. Homeowners can achieve this thanks to the garage screen system! A fully retractable, spring-loaded device called the screen works in tandem with your current garage door. It is easy and takes only a few seconds to transform a garage into a spacious, bug-free area. Simply retract the screen when you are finished taking in nature and raise your garage door as usual. It's that simple.
Although there are several screen options available, none can match the longevity and usability of the garage Screen. Our frame is made of architectural quality metal that is 2" x 2" and has a baked-on finish. It is autonomous and runs on a track system that requires no maintenance. With a fully spring-loaded, counterbalanced mechanism, these Screened garage hobby rooms will make raising and lowering virtually uncomplicated. Easy access and egress are made possible by the optional door-within-a-door feature of this screen. No other garage screen system has its extensive feature set and advantages.
Is a garage Screen a good option?
No matter the size of your existing garage door, the screen in your garage retracts completely. The screen can be placed using slides that fit in parallel tracks to your existing garage door or hook & hangers. The screens can then be simply lowered to convert your garage into a screened garage hobby room space ideal for gatherings or an additional living area. A completely retractable passage door is also included with the screen so that you can enter and exit the garage without trying to increase the screen system. To make lowering and raising the screen mechanism quick and simple, it also has spring assistance. With a Screen system, you can quickly convert your garage into a stylish, bug-free Screened Garage Man Cave.
Get in touch to remodel your garage!
Why not get in touch with U-Build-it if going to install a garage door screen and expanding the amount of usable space in your home sounds like an appealing idea? We have screen specialists available to answer any queries you may have at any time. We can assist if you're considering installing Screens in your garage. To get going, get in touch with U-Build-it or ask for a quote right now.
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amtekbuilders · 2 months ago
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Designing the Ultimate Man Cave: Tips from Expert Garage Builders
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Transforming your garage into the ultimate man cave is a dream for many homeowners. Whether you envision a space for hobbies, relaxation, or entertaining, a well-designed man cave adds value and functionality to your home. With the right planning and design, this space can become your personal retreat while enhancing the overall appeal of your property.
Maximize Space with Efficient Layouts
One of the first considerations when designing a man cave is the layout. It’s important to maximize the available space by organizing the garage efficiently. Start by determining the primary purpose of the man cave. Will it serve as a gaming room, workshop, or entertainment hub? Once you have a clear vision, divide the space into functional zones. This ensures that every square foot is utilized effectively, and you avoid cluttering the area.
Incorporate Custom Design Features
Personalization is key to creating a man cave that truly reflects your interests. As a custom garage builder, you can work with experienced professionals to incorporate features that suit your lifestyle. Custom cabinetry, built-in storage, and unique lighting fixtures are all great options to enhance the aesthetic and practicality of the space. Additionally, adding elements such as a mini bar, sound system, or even a projector screen can take your man cave to the next level, making it a versatile room for both relaxation and entertainment.
Comfort is King
To make your man cave truly enjoyable, focus on comfort. Invest in high-quality seating like recliners or lounge chairs, and consider climate control solutions such as insulation or a portable air conditioner to ensure the space is comfortable year-round. If you plan to spend extended hours in the garage, proper ventilation is also a must, especially if you intend to work on projects or enjoy smoking cigars.
Add Personal Touches
Finally, no man cave is complete without adding personal touches. From sports memorabilia to vintage signs or even a collection of favorite gadgets, these small details bring personality to the space. Consulting with man cave garages builders can also help you make choices that suit your taste while ensuring the space is functional and stylish.
In conclusion, if you’re ready to design the ultimate man cave, look no further than Amtek Builders. Their expertise as garage builders ensures that your vision becomes a reality, creating a custom space tailored to your needs and preferences.
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deepinmummymatters · 11 months ago
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Crafting the Ultimate Man Cave Shed
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Hey there, fellow enthusiasts of all things manly! If you're tired of the daily grind and dream of a space to call your own, look no further than the humble existing shed for your man cave . Transforming this often-neglected space with to start with a new coat of paint into the ultimate man cave shed is not only a DIY adventure but a sure-fire way to create a homestyle haven where you can kick back, relax, and revel in your passions. We will explore some inspired man cave shed ideas that will turn your backyard outdoor space into a personal retreat and sanctuary. Rustic Retreat - The Woodworker's Dream There's something timeless and comforting about the rustic charm of wood. Imagine your rustic mancave shed clad in weathered planks, with a sturdy work station bench taking center stage. Fill the space with your favorite hand tools, display your proudest DIY projects and creations, and let the scent of freshly cut wood transport you to your perfect space and your own private woodworking wonderland. Sports Spectacle - Game Day Galore For the sports fanatic, turning your own backyard shed into a mini sports bar is a no-brainer. Deck the walls with your team's memorabilia, install a big screen TV for big game day viewing together with arcade games, and add a mini-fridge stocked with your favorite drinks. A popular choice is to install a comfy recliner if there is enough room in your new man cave for prime game-watching comfort. Brewmaster Den: Craft Beer Oasis Homebrewers, rejoice! Transform your instant man cave into a cozy brewery, an excellent place where you can experiment with hop combinations and perfect your craft. First thing first, Install a custom-built bar, complete with taps for your latest creations. Add some dedicated space to pub-style comfortable seating, and voilà – you've got your very own personal space beer haven and small man cave bar. Tech Haven: Gaming Paradise Gamers, this one's for you. Set up multiple screens, gaming consoles for video games, and surround sound system in your spare room to create the perfect place and immersive experience. Deck out the garden man cave with your favorite game-themed decorations, small comfy couch or bean bags, and neon lighting options to create the ultimate game room.  Bookworm's Retreat: Cozy Reading Nook If your idea of bliss is getting lost in the pages of a good book, the perfect solution is to turn your studio shed into a bookworm's paradise. Line the walls with shelves and storage space, create a cozy reading nook with plush chairs, soft blankets and light fixtures, and bask in the serenity of your own personal library. Gearhead Garage: Auto Enthusiast's Escape Rev up your engines and turn your outdoor garage man cave into a gearhead's dream garage. Organize your tools, set up a car lift if space allows and no space constraints, and proudly display your prized possessions in different ways. This man cave is not just for fixing cars or possibly lawn mowers, what better place to create a shrine to your automotive passion. Conclusion  Whatever your passion, transforming your shed into a DIY man cave shed is a rewarding project that promises years of enjoyment. With a dash of creativity, a sprinkle of personal touch and favorite things, and a pinch of DIY spirit, your backyard retreat can become the ultimate haven for spending time with your favorite team, relaxation, hobbies, and all things manly. Read the full article
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remodelingheroesberkeley · 2 years ago
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If your garage is feeling a little too cluttered or not functioning as well as it should, you might want to think about converting it into something more useful. Thankfully, there are plenty of simple and affordable ideas for transforming your garage space.
Whether you’re looking for a place to craft, study or host guests, these garage conversions will help you transform your cluttered or unused garage into a comfortable and functional living space.
1. Create a Craft Room
Whether you're a crafty type or just need a place to keep your supplies handy, your garage can be transformed into the perfect place for doing arts and crafts.
If you have a lot of craft supplies, consider hanging rods across the wall to hang hooks with storage baskets. That way, you can easily grab the items you need without wasting time looking for them.
Pegboards are also a great place to store pens, pencils, paintbrushes, and other items you use frequently. Just add some small shelves or bins to the board, and you'll have a space to display them.
2. Create a Study Room
Whether you’re in school or are working from home, creating a study room can be a great way to make your garage more useful. It can also give you a little extra space for your car.
A study room should be a cosy place that’s quiet and warm, without any distractions so that you can focus on your studies.
Create an environment that’s ergonomic, with no slouching or other bad postures, and position your screen at eye level. This will help you keep your neck and wrists in a comfortable position for long periods of time, which can prevent injuries.
3. Create a Multipurpose Room
Creating a multipurpose room out of your garage space can be an excellent way to maximize the use of your home. It’s a great place to consolidate your storage and free up space in your living areas, which leaves you with a more spacious and organized home.
This is a smart idea for families with young children because it gives them their own space to play with their toys. It also means that they don’t have to rummage through other rooms for things they need.
4. Create a Movie Theater
Converting your garage space into a movie theater can be a great way to entertain family and friends. With a good home theater system and quality seating, your garage theater will become a place that you and your family will enjoy for years to come.
To create a cinema-quality room, insulated and soundproofed walls are key. This will help keep the temperature of your theater comfortable throughout the year and reduce external noise.
5. Create a Teenage Hangout Spot
Teens love to have a place to hang out, and your garage space can serve as an excellent spot for them. Just be sure to make it a comfortable, safe and fun environment.
The ideal teen hangout room design will draw inspiration from the hobbies and interests of your teen. For example, if your teen is an avid skater, they'll enjoy a skateboard-themed space with all their favorite skate gear.
For outdoorsy teens, add a touch of the wild to their hangout space with artwork that displays forest, mountain or other natural landscapes. And remember to include plenty of comfy seating for kicking back and enjoying the great outdoors.
6. Create a Living Space
If you’re looking for a way to make your home feel bigger and more functional, converting your garage into a living space is a great way to go. It can be an easy, low-cost alternative to building a brand-new addition to your home.
To make the space feel spacious and bright, maximize natural light by opening up the windows and adding plenty of good lighting. You can also use paint colours that are lighter than the room, and add mirrors to reflect more light.
Remodeling Heroes
2150 Shattuck Ave. #510, Berkeley, CA 94704 (510) 313-2318
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jurnaltalking · 2 years ago
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Giving Your Man the Gift of His Own Space This Christmas
Most men would love to have their own workshop or man-cave.
If you have a bit of extra space in the yard or an unfinished basement, you can surprise him with his own space this Christmas.
A custom builder Perth, can help you make his day for years to come.
To help you with some details before construction Perth, here are some man-cave and workshop ideas.
Creating a man-cave
Women have bathrooms, kitchens, and closets; men have man-caves, workshops, and garages.
A great man-cave will cater to his taste and involve his hobbies, favourite games, or his ability to have fun bro nights.
When making a man-cave, take into consideration the kind of things he enjoys. Is he a car guy? A sports fan? Does he like going to the pub or out for poker night? Maybe he’s a video game player.
One thing that no man-cave can ever be without is a nice television or radio, and speakers. Let me say that louder, SPEAKERS.
A sports fan’s man-cave can include things like jerseys, posters, and merch from their favourite teams and players. A big screen television is a must in this man’s room — how else do you expect him to watch the games?
If your man is a car guy, he would appreciate model cars, old oil cans, old signs, and any other car paraphernalia.
For a man that enjoys bro night, try adding a bar, card or game table, dartboard, and some shot glasses to match his personality and style.
A man’s manly workshop
Another room men enjoy escaping to is the workshop. This room is 100% dedicated to his hobbies and passions.
Is your husband into woodworking, knife forging, or tinkering with vehicles?
For the man who loves cars, his garage is the workshop of his dreams. Pop his favourite car in the room, along with tools, old automotive signs, oil cans, and maybe even a beer fridge.
Make sure the workshop is filled with all the right tools and some materials, if your husband has a passion for woodworking, knife forging, or any other creative art.
Finding the right builder
Always do your research.
Ask family, friends, and neighbours if they know anyone.
Look at the online reviews.
Ensure the builder has an up-to-date license, credentials, and certifications for the job.
Talk to them about the ideas you have for the space, and ask for help in finishing the design.
Discuss an estimated time for the room to be completed and costs.
Oftentimes a builder can show you pictures and testimonies from previous clients or jobs, use these to find someone that matches the style you are trying to create.
When you build a man-cave or workshop, you will be giving him the best gift of them all this year!
He will love his new workshop or man-cave for years to come.
A custom builder Perth can help you ensure his space is the best.
The trick is trying to keep the secret during Construction Perth.
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empty-movement · 3 years ago
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The State of the (Empty) Movement
Revolutionary Girl Utena’s 25th anniversary is next month. But we seem…strangely silent, no? Well. Let’s talk about the State of the (Empty) Movement!
The bulk of the content we call ‘Empty Movement’ was built in the 00’s, including the massive gallery. (The current iteration was a 10th anniversary project, in fact.) My priority has always been enabling transformative fandom media to take place by providing the curation myself–I like to think I’ve been pretty successful in this. These days, the website is a central location still, but ‘Empty Movement’ has come to broadly mean the site, the Discord, and these social media presences. 
For most of the 2010’s, I have run Empty Movement off a laptop. A nice one! But a laptop–for something that is, though an amateurist’s hobby, absolutely the size and scale of a not entirely small digital museum. This wasn’t a lack of access to means, so much as me thinking ‘hey it’s pretty much finished right??’ This was an attempt to self-sabotage my way out of what would only expand in scope if I ever gave myself more room to grow it. I had my reasons, but they were bad ones, many around the belief that it was time to put away childish things and be a productive member of society–a nurse, even. 
Well. The pandemic has sucked for nurses. I’ve gone through things I literally cannot legally discuss, except only to say…I’m a wee bit traumatized. Weird how the whole productive member of society thing goes, huh? In the meantime, the unproductive end of my life–this–has been a source of support, positivity, and a sincere belief that something important is happening within it. In the last couple years, a swelling of interest in not only Utena, but also the history I have here, has brought me to a realization that while I flap many many wings on many many butterflies in my ‘real’ job…the butterflies here are unique, found nowhere else, and may be valuable to people beyond the scope of fan media. 
In a move that surprises literally no one except me, I’ve learned recently I very likely have ADHD that I’ve historically controlled by self-abuse. So while I sit here humoring the escalation in scope of my stupid side hobby fun project, I’m also having to concede that my previous ways of doing things made it too difficult to do anything right, or enjoy it at all. And…I guess I care. I care about doing this right. And enjoying it would be nice.
What do I have? I don’t know. I have several hard drives on several computers of dozens of ‘backup of Empty Movement’ folders sometimes with dates, sometimes not. Some Utena data here, some there…I have literal decades of Utena content disorganized and scattered about. Meta, books, copies of websites that have disappeared, and so on. The site is now the tip of the iceberg that used to just be ‘unsorted, not on the site yet’ folders. For god’s sake I have burned CD-Rs with stuff like ‘EM unsorted’ on them. 
As before, my question has become ‘how is what I have useful, and to who?’ I’ve been approached by a greater than zero number of people in the last few years wanting to use Utena’s fandom for research and things like that, and I’m learning that what I think of as a clusterfuck mess of an old garage…others think of now as digital antiques, valuable collections of context, and resources. Sounds productive! 
So where is this going? Well my silence has been because I’ve been in the background, radically altering how I do the hobby I’ve done all my life. No one likes to fund infrastructure because it’s boring and unsexy, but it’s what I’ve needed, and I’ve spent a small fortune creating a real workspace and backend resources to do this right, and to do this more easily. I have a desk now, just like back then. A computer that can handle the absolute savagery I inflict on it. A screen large enough to work from. I’ve bought an orthopedic chair, because my body is broken in ICU RN ways. A NAS set-up, because physical data protection being managed manually across multiple drives is no longer a reasonable or viable way to keep up with this stuff for someone with attention problems. Of course, that needed a new router. And a battery backup. And so on. I am boning up on the last decade’s worth of advancements in data management, while also looking for ways to help share the content I have that hasn’t ‘made it’ to the site yet. People offer me so much help with so many things, and I often refuse not because I don’t need help, but because I don’t know how to let anyone help without making my mess even harder to keep track of. The sabotage is over. Empty Movement’s all in for another 25 years.
What does that mean? God I don’t even know yet–but I do know that big changes are coming! The gallery was always meant to be a permanent solution, but I was being stupid 
about that, and the heavily modified software is now bursting at the seams, workable on the visitorside, but almost impossible to add anything to now. I’ve avoided doing anything about this because I 1. Don’t wanna rebuild the gallery lmao, and 2. Have been wanting to avoid URL decay. But the ball is well rolling now, and I am kneecapping accessibility to a larger pool of content trying to preserve the URLs of the older gallery. 
Maybe you have noticed a culture shift in how I present content. I historically aimed at graphic design folks, fanart, cosplay, analysis, things like that–in 2022, the information people find interesting has changed, more detailed and context oriented. So I’m learning about how to use metadata and tags to offer, say, the original publication place of a scan of a piece from a subsequent artbook. Who drew it, when, why, etc. Tags, the bane of my existence in 2008, are all but obligatory now, when I have literally 14k images I need to make reasonably easy to sort through. But in 2022–people want to help me, and I need to let them. That means making it easy for that to be done. I am spending a lot of money and a lot of time to learn how to do that. But I think it will be worth it. Empty Movement has felt, at times, like a burden in my life. And it still does. But it’s also what I care about, and what others have cared about with me. 
This isn’t a post asking for money, but if you want to help pay for all this, I absolutely wouldn’t stop you, and invite you to check out our Patreon. Make no mistake, this is happening either way--but I’d be lying if I said it was entirely affordable for me, lmao. This isn’t a post asking for help either–I will ask about that later, or bug y’all if you’re in the Discord. This isn’t–okay it kinda is–a post asking for what you want; I’d be really interested in hearing what you all would prioritize if you were me. Cover to cover copies of all printed media I have? A website for the video game files and FAQs? Because I have those. A revamp of the translation site for Shounen Ou, the project Enokido and Hasegawa did after Utena, that I now have a book to scan the art at high res out of? A gallery of old layouts for the website? Is analysis of graphic design in the early 00’s something anyone wants? So on, so forth. A website about the musicals? Including the mythic second one? Because I now know more than I used to about it–and I could be sharing that also! It’s literally endless, as I go through each drive I find more things I thought I’d remember and didn’t. Fandom history, Utena history, Queer history, Animation production history. What do we care about? If you’re looking at this more academically, what’s valuable to you given I possess a very thick cross-section of a single specific media and fandom presence? 
I have a lot of Utena. That’s what I’m here for, that’s what you’re here for. And it matters, so I’m going to share even more of it. Stay tuned. <3
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