#countertop veining
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nicothenick · 1 year ago
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Kitchen - Rustic Kitchen a medium-sized open concept kitchen in the mountain style with a farmhouse sink, shaker cabinets, green cabinets, quartz countertops, green backsplash, porcelain backsplash, paneled appliances, a peninsula, and multicolored countertops is shown.
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kosovare-madridista · 2 years ago
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Kitchen - Rustic Kitchen
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harperandhudson · 2 years ago
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arminsumi · 1 year ago
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ADULT STORE
↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."
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1.5k words
Pt. 2
Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)
Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈
Playme : wanna know what it's like?
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The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.
The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.
"Yo."
Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.
He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.
"Ah, h-hello..."
He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.
"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.
"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."
Yeah, that's what I thought.
He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.
"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"
His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.
"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."
Aw, of course.
"M'kay... then let me assist you."
He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.
"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"
"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.
I know exactly what she needs...
"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."
His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.
Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.
"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"
Aw, she's flustered.
"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."
Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.
"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."
There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.
He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.
"This one's got ten functions—"
"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."
"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."
The two of you share a long look, then laugh.
"But it really is an excellent product."
"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.
"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."
I could make her squirt.
He's running his eyes up and down your body.
"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.
"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."
He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.
"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.
A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.
Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...
He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.
"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.
You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.
He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.
"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.
"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.
He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.
"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."
"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."
Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.
His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."
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After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.
He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.
He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.
"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."
He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.
"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?
"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"
"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"
He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.
Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...
"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.
He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.
She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.
You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.
"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.
You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.
"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."
"Fuck, okay."
And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.
"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.
Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.
His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.
This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.
"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"
He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.
Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.
"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."
And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.
Please cum on my face. Please please please.
"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"
You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.
He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.
"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"
Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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wildgirllz · 8 months ago
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I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠;⁠)
Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!
Mating press with Tommy <3
Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot
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It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.
Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.
“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two. 
“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.
You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.
His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.
He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.
Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips. 
He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.
Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.
“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.
Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock. 
His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.
Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself. 
He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back. 
You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.
feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3
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coconutdays · 6 months ago
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consume
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s. in a world of ghouls and humans, you've got a crush on a really hot guy with tattoos, but that doesn't mean he's a ghoul right?
w.c. 5.9k
w. fem! reader, ghoul!sukuna! x reader , fluff!, smut!, cannibalism!, gore!
a/n: this is a continuance on this thought of mine :)I just wrote this to get this out of my system :/ don't think I cooked as I usually do! but feel free to indulge in ghoul sukuna to at least scratch the itch.
"is that him y/n?" your friend's eyes widen and she grabs you by the shoulders, staring into the void of your soul "go up to him. now."
you came for drinks with your friends just a couple minutes ago. and you were so unaware until now, that across from you is the random hot guy you always see on your way home.
your friend, the one bolstering you to go up to him, has heard of this crush. considering you can't spend a day without talking about the hotness of this man.
"I-I, " you start to stutter, "I shouldn't. I see him all the time around the neighborhood and he's never so much as bat an eye at me or acknowledged my presence."
"and I do not care," she huffs, turning you around and beginning to push you in his direction at the bar, "no guy is capable of rejecting your beauty when its waved right in front of their face."
you hear her huffing and can probably make out how flushed her cheeks are from going against your planted feet on the ground, scared to go up to the man nearing you, even though its you coming closer. you feel your heartbeat quicken by at least 50 beats and the adrenaline from such a simple act is rushing through your veins.
until you're there. and he's doesn't even move to face you, his eyes just dart to you.
"hi." you manage to choke out.
he smells like like leather and stone cold vanilla. it's a smell you won't be able to get out of your head tonight.
he looks like he's about to sigh and say something to send you walking away, but you speak again before he can dismiss you, possibly, "I think you're handsome and I wanted to talk to you."
"you looking for a quick fuck?" his voice rumbles so nonchalantly as he takes a sip of his whiskey
"no." you answer in a heartbeat, quickly moving your head from side to side as a sign of your counter to the idea, "I don't think I would be this nervous if I was just looking for that."
"Then what are you looking for?" He's suddenly looming over you, body now turned to face you and his early stance of dismissal gone. although you don't know if that's what you prefer now considering this is so much more intimidating. he's squinting his eyes at you just a tad and you can tell he's biting his cheek.
"something that doesn't hurt me." is all you can speak into existence, softly.
he stares at you
he stares at you for a long while, his brown eyes so light, they're almost red. it's intense and you don't know what he's playing at.
he gets up abruptly, the chair that was beneath him screeching, face unnerved when he reaches a hand out expectantly, "your phone."
your eyes widen and you fumble around for your phone before planting it in his hand.
"what's your name," he says as he presses what you suppose is his contact information into your phone.
you hear a ring coming from his back pocket when you answer, "y/n"
"sukuna," he replies back curtly before handing you back yours and moving to shut off his phone. he then takes out a ten dollar bill and puts it on the countertop before turning to leave, "stay with your friends, it's not safe on your own out there."
you hadn't noticed at all that your friend had left you to talk to the familiar stranger, sukuna now, at some point during the interaction. when you turned around, your group was staring between you and the ominous figure leaving as if they were watching a thriller movie and needed a bowl of popcorn to shove their hands into.
when you were on the way home by cab that night, you received a text, that seemed a manifestation due to how hard you prayed for the next buzz from your phone to be from him.
it was a curt reminder that he would meet you outside your apartment--that he also asked for the address of--the following morning so he could take you out. and nothing more. it was so curt, that although he was still inviting you out, you made it your mission to dress your most attractive the next morning.
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you notice he's already outside of the door when peek your head out the door early, doubtful of how early he would be, which he was. sukuna had gotten there ten minutes beforehand, at the least. and although you weren't that mentally prepared to be out with him, you sucked it up and tried your best to confidently walk out the door when he noticed you.
"looks like we're both early," you joke a bit shyly, fiddling with the straps of your purse
"if you need more time you can go back up," he says, having straightened his posture from leaning against the wall and now looking at the busying street, as if to stay aware of his surroundings
"no it's okay, I've been ready for about half an hour now," you smile meekly in embarrassment
the comment makes him flick an eye to you, "should have told me."
"for?" you blink up at him, unaware
"for me to show up earlier," he clicks with his tongue before looking to the left and motioning for the both of you to start walking
it's about ten minutes into your silent walk to who knows where that you hear him speak again without previous poking, "you eat breakfast?"
"yes, actually! it was a lot so im still pretty full, considering the time."
"alright," he nods before locking eyes on something and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the small of your back to maneuver you to your left, "it's here."
and the small entrance he guides you through leads to an immediate splash of greenery
a garden, a large one, surrounded by something you couldn't make out
"it's a bookshop."
and now you could make out the shelves through the surrounding windows
there's a number of different flowers surrounding you and you can't help but dash to a rather beautiful spawn of peonies.
"they're so beautiful!" you bite your lip in excitement, like you'd just seen a puppy. and that's when you spot a small pathway leading to a shrouded bench.
and you get an idea, "do you think they have Takatsuki in there?"
sukuna quirks a brow at you, "you like that insane shit?"
"I like creepy stuff." you blink at him, shamelessly stating the interest of yours
"come on," he juts his chin towards the far end of the garden, where the entrance was
moments later, you come out with a hardcover edition of The Black Goat's Egg you'd been vying for for months, purchased by sukuna, who asked, "that the one you want?" when you said yes, he plucked it from your hands and paid for it at the register.
"thank you." you say in appreciation when you set your purse down next to you on the bench, and flip to the beginning page of the book while sukuna adjusts himself next to you.
the handsome giant says nothing and instead drapes an arm over the side of the bench behind you and flicks his eyes towards the book, waiting for you to read like you'd promised so.
"you'll like it," you smile at him before subconsciously sinking just a little into his personal space and adjusting the book comfortably onto your lap, "ahem..."
you had been reading for about an hour and a half now, and sukuna showed no signs of distaste for the book. he hadn't said a word since the moment you started reading, listening and skimming over the book with you.
"mother's hands carved out the veins beneath his chest, not me. from her nails came the rotten smell of hardened blood. oh this is my favorite part. but I could feel the pulsing of his lungs on my hands. how his heart still beat when I had opened his chest. the breath of life beneath my palms, inhaling and exhaling. my excitement brewed, a woman's touch knew nothing of the enthrallment this brought me-"
grrrrrrrrrr
embarrassing
there's no way in hell your stomach just did that in front of him. you try to mutter a quick sorry and pick back up where you left off, but the moment you open your mouth again after the quick apology, sukuna interrupts you.
"it's time for you to eat."
why did he say that like you were some sort of pet.
he was such a serious speaker sometimes.
while you start to gather your things, sukuna already stands up and reaches a hand out for you to stabilize yourself on.
"I don't think its time time," you say while taking his hand, not wanting to go back to your apartment yet and finish reading yet, "I won't cook normally until another half hour from-"
"you said you liked the same type of pasta the guy was eating in the book right," he cut you off, levitating a hand over your shoulders that simply wooed you into stepping next to him at a comfortable pace while he moved for the both of you to cross the street.
"yeah..."you agreed, catching another whiff of his cologne in the breeze
and that's how you wound up with him ordering a full plate for you and a boring cup of coffee for himself moments later at a restaurant.
"you sure you're not hungry?" you questioned worriedly, eyes searching for any illness on him, scared to grab the fork before you
"I'm cutting, I'll cook at home." he shrugged
"cook what then?" you almost pout, feeling bad that you were going to be feasting in front of him while he merely had a coffee
he looked you dead in the eyes and said before taking a sip of his coffee, "steak."
"ghoul." you shot back while reaching for your fork and making towards the pasta
for the first time, you saw irritation on sukuna's face in the form of a twitch of his nose, "beef. steak."
he seemed so serious and you couldn't help but stick your tongue out playfully, "I know, but you might as well be one if you're that built from so much protein. heh."
sukuna let a tsk out and took a sip of his coffee, "eat your food."
you wound up getting walked home by sukuna later after the meal, a full stomach and new book, both provided by him upon your return.
"thank you again for the book" the corners of your lips quirked up a little cutely, "and for the meal too."
"you still need to eat something later tonight."
"I will" you nod and look up at him earnestly before reaching for his hand and gesturing for him to be level with you.
"goodbye," you land a quick peck on his cheek and let go of his hand, already rushing towards your building door and entering the code in as fast as possible. you couldn't look back, and didn't .
this pattern of dates repeats itself quite often after. sukuna's taken you to what seems like every bookstore in the city and purchased whatever makes your fancy every time. he's had you read for him. he's bought you every sweet and dessert you've wanted. he's brushed a crumb of a macaroon of your lips, carried you bridal style to avoid getting your shoes wet in a large street puddle, the most endearing things, albeit stoically, but
he's never kissed you
you think it has something to do with how stoic he is. maybe there's some sort of damage with him. he's so immersed whenever he's with you, learning and observing you, but it's always felt as if he's keeping part of himself watered down with you.
a hint of snarkiness has left him before, you saw so when a little girl in a park punched an older boy for yanking on her pigtail.
and he never takes you out at night. he hasn't specifically said he doesn't want to go out during the late hours of the afternoon or night, but he always manages to schedule your outings to end before so.
it's why you bite the bullet, and make today's lunch, into a dinner hosted by you, with the convenient excuse that your work asked you to come in for finishing touches on a project you'd be presenting next week and couldn't make it to lunch.
sukuna agreed with no qualms, that you couldn't see through the screen of your phone of course, and even asked if you needed any ingredients.
your chicken had already been in the oven for about twenty minutes when he had knocked on your door--you had texted him the code to your building earlier.
"hi." you breathed, opening the door for him to come in, "I put this chicken recipe I found online to bake. it's supposed to be healthy."
sukuna walked further into your apartment and analyzed his surroundings while you yapped away.
"it's probably not like the steak you eat, maybe less in protein, but I think you'll like it. I don't think I could make steak that good for someone else on the first try..."
"your hand," he slightly quirks a brow up and gestures towards your right hand, two bandages on your middle and pointer finger.
"tomato dicing mishap," you give him a sheepish closed mouth smile while raising your hand up, "it's a bit more annoying than a paper cut. bleeds more than one."
"I could order for here-"
"no! it's okay. I'm done anyway. I need to take out the chicken in a bit anyways." and you move to grab the controller to your tv, "do you have anything in mind you want to watch?”
“the news.”
you slightly furrow your brows, but accommodate to his request then leave the controller on the coffee table, "you see something happen?"
"just don't like not knowing what's going on," he huffs gruffly while eyeing the ongoing news report for the day.
"A ghoul has atrociously murdered and consumed various members of our community. last night's victim is unidentifiable, but his age can be estimated to be about thirty. surveillance cameras near the area show no capture evidence of who could have done this, but reports and evidence point to it being the same perpetrator of the last couple of murders this month-"
you walk to your oven to get the chicken out and start to put on your mittens, "at least it's not girls."
sukuna's eyes flicker towards you, interested in what you're saying, "you should be scared."
you're setting the hot pan on the countertop when you look back at him, eyes clean of any fear, "but he's been eating shit guys."
sukuna turns his body to you and crosses his arms, as if he's about to chew your ear off for saying that, but you continue, moving to plate the food for both of you, "all the bodies they've reported are all well distinguished low life perverts, some have even tried to chase me down when I say no. one of them tried taking a picture under my skirt once."
you place the plates on either side of the dining table for the both of you and sit down, "whatever ghoul that's getting his full with them doesn't scare me. we know he eats a lot, if those guys weren't enough, he'd go for girls already. and before you bite my head off for not being scared, you should know by now that I rarely go out at night, especially not without someone with me. now sit, food's ready."
sukuna eyes moves towards the dining table and eyes your dish a bit wearily as he slides his chair out for him to sit on.
when he sits, you speak again, "I got the recipe from one of those super healthy bodybuilders, so it should be good enough for you. plus, I'm a good cook."
sukuna still stairs into the void, where our plate should be, but he makes for the knife and fork you put for him, "thank you."
and he enjoyed it, you think. he didn't say it was good, but he finished his plate diligently. if he hated it, he would have said something, or shown it on his face.
"I'll wash the dishes," he said when you were about to reach for his plate and instead he took both of yours and got up.
"oh, okay," you observed as he turned on the faucet, his back to you, he looked out of place in the small spot, "I can start putting a movie, you liked when I read Howl's Moving Castle, I have the movie for it."
You looked for a response, and you received one in the form of a nod, so you stood up and sat on the couch, looking through your streaming services.
sukuna finishes faster than you expected
"I need to take a piss," he says as he walks towards the restroom
"okay," you responded without hesitation as you tried to restart the movie considering your streaming service was glitching on you and the movie was already in the ends credits--you watched it that often.
you solved the problem quicker than you thought, because when sukuna comes back from peeing, you've already got the movie paused at the beginning, waiting for him to sit so you can press play.
and when he does sit, it's at a distance from you, which you don't make a comment about because hey, maybe he's just a guy with boundaries.
and it's halfway through the movie that you have barely even paid attention to your favorite movie of all time. the music you always enjoy and look forward to seems to have never reached your ears. the funny antics by Calcifer don't elicit a giggle from you.
"why haven't you tried to kiss me?"
is he even attracted to you? because you have boundaries and you're a woman, but
you want his hands on you for more than just protection or help. you want to know what it feels like to sit on his lap, that you're sure is more comfortable than your couch considering how meaty and large he is.
and now you're in silence, even though the tv must be at more than the recommended volume setting.
"do you want me to?" sukuna asks, still watching the movie, but you can tell his attention is entirely on you
"I wouldn't be saying anything if I didn't want you to..." you breathe, cursing yourself for bringing such an awkward situation upon the both of you. the movie seems as if its not being processed by your eyes even though you're staring at it, too scared to look at him.
the need to backtrack overcomes you and you feel like you need to overexplain your lack of manners and how he should disregard what you're saying when-
he's tilted your chin towards him
and his mouth is on yours
its beyond sensual and you can feel your thighs shift against each other, but nowhere is it an intense roughness.
he's a godsend, you think, right as he pulls away and gets up.
you're dazed and confused as he walks to your door
"I preferred when you read the book to me," he states monotonously while he shrugs his leather jacket on and opens the door.
"I'll send for a dessert for you later." he's halfway through the doorway and his back is to you, "don't finish it all if you still feel full. your cramps get worse with sugar."
"my cramps-"
he shuts the door and you're left dumbfounded in your living room
oh. he must've seen the packaging of your pad thrown in the restroom bin.
later that night, there was a large helping of warm churros that a guy delivered to your apartment building.
you img_786 thank you, they're really good
sukuna don't finish all of it
you I won't <3
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and then he's gone
for a month you haven't heard from him
you shouldn't be rotting in your bed this often, but you are. you don't want to frequent out unless its with him. the few bookstores you did know before him, and went to after with him are sickeningly wrapped in the ambience of him.
going out at night reminds you that he didn't like when you were out at night, sending punctual texts about whether you were home or not
the walk home, where you got excited to even see him for a second is a disdainful reminder of him.
and you feel so ridiculed
the last time you talked, it was because you technically asked for a kiss that he ended up giving
but then walking away and going home.
it hurt your ego
you ran out of matcha tea a bit before sundown. it was a calming drink for you, something you'd been finding comfort it especially during this time.
so you left your apartment to go to the grocery store in your neighborhood. it was a weekday, so the streets weren't all that crowded, everyone was already on the way home.
it was a quick trip, you came out with a tin of matcha and a tub of ice cream, but the sun was halfway through its descent back into the night.
nothing would happen. ghouls don't lurk the moment the sun sets.
your apartment is around the corner when you hear a familiar voice.
"don't move unless you want me to eat your kagune."
why does that sound a lot like him?
there was a sort of mushy sound that followed, then a painful groan
or screech, you couldn't tell the the difference from how pained it was
"please sukuna! I-I didn't know-"
a scream followed, along with a grotesque noise
he said sukuna's name? is that-
"AHAHAHAA LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP YOUR LUNGS ARE! BASICALLY SHREDS IN MY HANDS!"
it's undeniably his voice, but you've never heard him like this.
if you could just get a look, turn your head over the alleyway just a little
you almost vomit at the sight.
the man you had been moping over for the past few weeks had four large tentacles for a kagune, bright blood red and pinning down the man beneath him, who's lungs unmistakably were in sukuna's hands.
he was eating it like it was something easy, like a slice of ham
the other man-ghoul's intestines were spilling out onto the ground
and all you could do was stand still.
"I didn't know she was off-limits!" the ghoul cried, tears running down his half eaten face considering he was missing a piece of cheek.
"doesn't matter," sukuna retorted, digging a hand in again and taking out what looked like a liver, "what were you going to do to her huh?"
he took a bite and spoke with a full mouth in his face, "I know what lowlife creeps like you like to do to girls like her."
"and how are they supposed to stop coming if I let every creep that wanders near her live?"
and upon further inspection, you realize that the guy underneath him spoke to you this morning on the subway. he made uncomfortable conversation about your skirt and you got off the moment he started getting too close to your personal space
unbeknownst to you, you start shaking and your breath hitches
sukuna hears it
when he turns to face you, where the noise came from, his eyes are red this time, the whites blackened. he's breathing hard as he stares you down.
"go. home." is all he snarls menacingly
and no matter how hard you want to plant your feet and say no because you're mad at him, you run back home. the minute that was left in walking home became twenty seconds.
how you wound up at your apartment that fast was a wonder to you. but all you know is that so many things are making sense, but not at the same time.
that ghoul was going to come for you if it wasn't for sukuna. was sukuna the ghoul from the news? had he eaten all those men? god, you can't even remember all the times you've been cat-called or bothered on the street. how long had he been doing this?
"open the door."
you're back to reality at the sound of sukuna behind the door to your apartment
maybe if you pretend you're not-
"I can hear your heart beating, open the door."
"I don't want to!" you try not to yell, speaking as firmly as you can so as to not garner unwanted attention.
"if you open the door," he starts to speak with irritation that so tells you theres a just as irritated smile on his face, "I can explain to you."
"why do you want to talk now?" you stomp your foot on the ground, praying that the inertia stops the tears building on your waterline from falling down your cheeks
"open the door and I'll tell you y/n." he says, patience still wavering
he stares you down menacingly when you abruptly open the door, but you've got your own look to challenge, brimming with almost tears and an anger like no other at how he hurt you
"I told you to not go out at night."
"how long ago was that huh?" you retort
sukuna bites his cheek and enters your apartment, planting himself in the farthest corner of your living room to argue with you.
"you still know better." he gestures a hand to the window, outside, "I don't care if there's still a couple minutes before the sun sets. don't go outside."
"why not, you'll be there to eat anyone who lurks near me."
your nose is scrunched at him in anger and for the first time, it looks like he has nothing to say
"were you the ghoul from the news the other night?" you sniffle
sukuna looks at you with dead irritation, like he has a million things to say, but none at the same time.
"are you trying to keep me to yourself? to eat me on a rainy day, like a special treat? is that why you couldn't bare to date me? because I was just food?"
"no." he bites back, arms crossed, tongue poking through his cheek while his head moves to face the other way
"then?" you waiver, hands dropped to the sides of your body in fists.
"I'm a ghoul," his red eyes dart to you, pinning you under his gaze," you're a human."
"you can't stand that I'm a human?" you step back, hurt
it seems your words confund him to irritation again when he responds, "you just saw me eating someone's lungs."
"he was going to eat me." you reason
"you're an idiot..." he scoffs, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground
"then why are you still here?" you bite back
your retaliation seems to have set him off, because he soon starts walking towards you and pins you under his body and the countertop behind you
"I was born to eat you," he snarls close to your face, "I will find a way to break you. it's nature. every single day, all I can think about is how much I want to sink my teeth into your flesh. does that not scare you?"
"maybe that's because you never tried to take out your urges on me in other ways." you murmur defiantly
the comment makes him stand still, leaving both of your breaths as the only sound in the room.
"you don't know what you're saying." his nose twitches
"neither do you, you've never tried."
his hands are gripping the countertop so hard, you can hear a slight crumble.
but then sukuna's breathing grows ragged and it would have alarmed you, were it not for his following actions.
his arms brings your entire body towards him when he envelopes you in a nasty kiss.
this
this was sexual
his chest grumbles when you stick your tongue into his mouth and he sucks on it painfully
the bliss is so entrancing, you can't even distinguish the metallic taste.
one of his hands goes to envelop your ass and the grip he has is so strong and painful that you think he's made finger sized holes in your jeans.
the moan that leaves you is far too sinful, but he pulls you impossibly closer and grabs you by the back of your legs to pull you up. sukuna then starts walking to the only other door that doesn't lead to the restroom. to your room.
he'd just bitten your lip to the point where you're sure it'd be bruised within an hour when he threw you onto the bed and yanked your pants off. you don't know if he tore them off or genuinely took them off, but all you know is that the sight when he takes off his shirt next is magnetizing. his body is sculpted and defined everywhere, his pecs are huge, his abs scrumptiously lining his abdomen, and his v-line makes you eager to jump on top of him.
but his tattoos, they're the cherry on top. there's two ragged lines, almost as if fangs scraping down his abdomen, and they seem as if they have brothers and sisters reaching to do the same down his pecs and on the small of his neck. you know about the others on his arms, but not these.
"take off your shirt before I rip it off and you start whining about it." he growls while he fiddles with his belt to push down his pants
you follow orders, no care for if he did rip your shirt (in the moment), but eager to have him
the hard on you're greeted with is just below terrifying.
were all ghouls this gifted?
you have a feeling this was just sukuna
"still feel like you can take it." sukuna snarls as he pushes you further up the bed and positions himself between your legs.
you don't even get a chance to make a comment on what he's about to so intimately do before he tears through the fabric separating your pussy from the outside and delves in without so much as a second thought.
not even ten seconds in and your legs are shaking furiously, with no stop to it so as long as he was on top of you
his tongue is penetrating you so deeply and you don't even have time to question if that's a biological feature on ghouls. all you know is that's it's wet and oh so stimulating, so much so, you're screaming and whining
there's no words you can say, you're screaming so much from the pleasure that you instinctively start to pull away from him, but he growls and keeps you in place
oh
he's been staring at you this entire time
with those eyes
mercy be
it's just enough to drag you to the tipping point and your relief washes over you and him, while he drinks it all up ferociously.
you think he's going to stop when it feels like he's licked you clean from your mess
until he doesn't
he goes on
and he goes on for what seems like an hour
you feel you've gone insane, you can't even count how many times he's made you cum since. you've never been destroyed this way.
your voice is gone when he comes up and stares at you, caging you between his arms.
you're not going to tap out, you try to say with your eyes
and he understands, as it seems, hiking up both of your legs to your chest and beginning to run his fat tip across your folds
"remember, you asked for this." sukuna mutters meanly when he pushes in in one go
you thought it was a lie when some girls said their boyfriends were so big, that they could feel their veins rubbing against their insides
it wasn't
even his tip is being molded to by your pussy
"oh my god," you moan painfully, "I can't-i'm gonna-"
"you can," he retorts, starting to pull back and the mere drag has you keening
you think you have the same effect, considering how labored his breathing has gotten and there's nothing left for you to do besides pull him in for a kiss to sedate yourself from the intensity happening below
the single beginning of the contact illicits sukuna's start of a ruthless pace
your moans seem to make him suck on your tongue punishingly every time. and your hands can't find nothing else to do besides drag painfully down his back. you think you might have just hurt your own hands from how hard his skin is.
sukuna stops kissing you while he pummels inside of you to speak
"scream for me."
command or not, you were still doing so
"filthy little slut," he groans through each stroke, "tightest fucking pussy I've ever fucked."
"pussy's fucking mine, you're never going to touch anyone else. if you even try, I'll kill them."
he keeps going like this, on and on and all you can do is nod and agree with everything he says, because let's be honest, who were you to even glance at someone else after this?
you notice purple indents forming where his hands are on your thighs when he leans down to your face and says, "whaddya say princess, you like being mine?"
"mhm," you nod ernestly, and gather the courage to speak, even if it is hoarse, "love it so much sukuna."
"gonna blow a huge fucking load in your pussy," he murmurs to himself more than anything
"plea-please." you moan needing to be as close to him as possible, feeling an idea surface to your mind
"bite me."
if sukuna weren't so depraved and lost in you, he would have stopped. but he keeps going and instead leans closer to hear you
"bite me," you breathe, almost screaming at the end, "just enough for it not to scar."
sukuna keeps staring at you while he destroys your insides, giving no indication as to if he was going to do follow through with your wishes, until he leans down to your chest
you scream in pain and a delicious ecstasy
there's a small little pool of blood coming from your skin and his mouth when you look down. his hips start stuttering too, and it makes you think that this might be his tipping point.
you're so fucked up that it's yours too
before you know it, his pace grows so erratic that you start cumming and pulsating around him sporadically, unable to contain yourself from the pleasure.
and he starts cumming too.
sukuna lifts himself up from your chest and captures your mouth in his, making you taste a part of yourself you never thought you would. he grows weak in the kiss too, while his cum seeps out and pools into you. it lets you nibble on his tongue, an action that him sinking into your body while he gives you a last few weak thrusts.
"ow," you giggle after a moment of silence
sukuna brings his head up quickly, eyes slightly wide and in worry
"how am I gonna wear a bra over that," you laugh, observing the bleeding bite mark over your boob
sukuna looks down at it, "just don't wear one."
"boobs bring perverts."
sukuna rolls his eyes in exhaustion and dips his head into your chest, licking your wound, "you're not going anywhere without me there anyway."
2K notes · View notes
piastappies · 2 months ago
Text
𝜗𝜚 𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝜗𝜚
⋆ pairing. oscar piastri x verstappen!reader
⋆ summary. falling in love has never been on your radar, but when the cute, quiet guy finds his place in your heart, you try to cherish the rare, yet beautifully domestic moments. that is, until you hit the four years together mark and realise that your family probably doesn’t know.
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GROWING UP YOU WERE CONVINCED BY THE circumstances that being loved must be earned. you had never put any thought into that — it was just the things were, at least that’s how you were brought up. if you did something your parents didn’t like, you were given a cold shoulder and — from time to time — a silent treatment. as a teenager, you came up with a… pretty saddening conclusion that love wasn’t worth it in the end, so you simply avoided any kind of romantic relationships.
to be completely honest, it wasn’t a hard task. all you ever wanted since you entered the awkward phase of your life, when you could make your own decisions, one of which was leaving your household as soon as it was only possible.
you had departed from your home around the age of fourteen, after lots of begging to let you study abroad had taken place. you were the youngest out of the three. your brother was already in formula one, when you were wearing a plaid skirt, a merlot blazer with the school’s logo, a matching necktie and a few more things that made max and victoria call you a posh, british girl. you didn’t mind it, you were glad to be out of the house, slightly distancing yourself from your family overtime.
the day you met oscar took place on the day of your eighteenth birthday. you and some friends had gone out to celebrate not only your birthday, but also your acceptance to the king’s college in london, giving you an opportunity to pursue your dreams of becoming a doctor. you were yet to tell your family about it, having lied to them about the date, wanting to have this moment to yourself.
you went out to a few bars before ending up in a club as the girls secretly wanted you to find a guy to go home with, since the last year and a half you had been constantly overworking yourself to get into your dream university, (“you got the school in the bag, now get some lad to relieve the pressure”).
oscar had been racing in formula renault at the time, but ever since you left the netherlands, racing hadn’t been on your mind for a long time — it probably should, considering your big brother was two points behind kimi räikkönen last season, however you had a feeling as if racing was the reason you were so disconnected from your family. your dad was racing in formula one, your mom was karting, your brother has been racing in formula one as well, and your sister shared the interest, while the love for partaking in the sport never appeared in your heart.
your chest was slightly pressed against the countertop, smiling at the bartender with a drunken look in your eyes, while he was preparing your umpteenth jägerbomb. jesus christ, you really needed that break. the alcohol running through your veins was really hitting you already as your body couldn’t stay still even for a second — your hips swaying to the beat. that was until you looked around the place and your eyes landed on a boy your age. he was wearing a white, printless t-shirt that clung to his body, turning your quick look-around into a staring situation.
if sober, your thoughts would stay where they should — in your mind, however… you were far from being sober. the proper social etiquette you were taught over the years at your boarding school were long forgotten as you shamelessly ogled the boy. he was simply gorgeous, breathtaking some would say.
“gals, i think i just saw an angel sent from heaven just for me.” you announced, your tone causing your friends to chuckle in amusement. you sound like a person who thought they just invented a cure for cancer. “i need to throw myself at him.”
“oh my god.” aliyah, your roommate from school, laughed, throwing her head back. it was hilariously unexpected to hear you say a thing like that — the girls have heard you talk about the boys you had hooked up with before, even intoxicated, but never this. you had never been so… so not-you. “this-this is the funniest thing, like, ever.”
“which one?” inaya scrunched her brows as she looked around, searching for a guy who could fit her imagination of a guy you would call an angel. she groaned in disappointment, once you discreetly pointed in oscar’s direction. “a white guy? seriously, yn?”
“i can’t help it.” you muttered, your shoulders slumping as the alcohol intensified every single emotion you have felt during the night. “i wish he would have my baby. or like a thousand of them.” your sighed, dropping your hand to your stomach, while one of the girls bursted out laughing at the absurdity of your words.
inaya could easily recall the day before your acceptance letter came in and your speech to the group chat about romantic attraction, relationships, kids, and commitment, concluded with confidence (“i’m gonna be that one, successful aunt that hates kids, but not that one niece.”).
“they would look cute together, though.” priya giggled, stealing glances at your boy, as if she wanted to hit on him, too. then, the thought of priya with your boy disappeared from your mind at the image of your best friend and her long-time boyfriend. right, she and james had been together for the longest time. “you should shoot your–” the universe was not having the girl speak, because a guy, seemingly confident, approached your table.
“hey, i hope you’re having a good evening.” he started in a nice tone, the girl beside you — the last of the four, ciara, seemed to melt against your shoulder, looking at the boy with heart eyes. “sorry to bother you, girls. my friend, that one over there, thinks you’re really gorgeous and would love to get your number, but he’s a bit shy.” he joked, having pointed to oscar, turning the second part of his monologue to you.
before any of you could’ve responded to him, a guy — the same one you called an angel — walked up to the six of you, groaning when he realised that his friend already had done what he threatened to do. “jesus, arthur.” the blonde ran a hand over his face, groaning in exasperation.
“i’m so sorry for him.” he let out a small sigh. “i told him not to bother you, but he’s like a toddler.” he tried to explain, earning a few quiet chuckles from all of you.
“ah, there’s nothing to be sorry for.” priya grinned. “you two look like you haven’t had a drop of alcohol yet, maybe wanna join us?”
oscar wanted to refuse, out of courtesy — he didn’t really care about the embarrassment brought upon him by the monegasque, although the look on your face was making his heartbeat quicken. he’d never felt like this before, it was crazy. he just saw you for the first time and his mind was filled to the brim with small ideas to impress you that were supposed to be shoved away as he opened his mouth to politely refuse the invitation. arthur, however, had different plans and sat next to the ginger haired girl, who quickly engulfed him in a conversation.
looking at him so up close was almost a life-altering experience. for the first fifteen minutes you had to remind yourself to breathe, so enamoured with the boy sitting next to you. after that period, you got even more entranced with oscar. once he started his small conversation with you, you couldn’t help but hang onto every single word that left his lips.
you’ve never felt like this before, so interested in what a boy had to say to you. you forgot about the detail that, if it wasn’t a joke, oscar thought you were gorgeous and loved to have your number. the conversation with him was easy, you didn’t have to do anything special to prolong it, neither did he. by the time the watch on your phone was showing three in the morning, james had already picked priya, inaya and aliyah up, leaving you and ciara with the two boys. you went out to a club to have fun, drink, and dance a bit, but it all was thrown into oblivion once piastri started a conversation with you.
YOU COULD EASILY RECALL THE MOMENT YOU realised that life without oscar wasn’t what you’d ever want. it happened after a few weeks of constant texting, late-night calls and a bit less meetings at his/your place. at the tiniest thought of falling in love with him, your stomach started to hurt, because love wasn’t something you believed to have a happy ring to. your parents were divorced and they took it out on you and your siblings, sophie, your mom, wasn’t as bad as your dad, though.
oscar knew about your stance towards love, but took it upon himself to change it — and he suprisingly did. there wasn’t a thing oscar could do wrong to make you disappointed. despite the hectic schedule he had, you always spent at least ten minutes on the phone to just check in, which was the best part of your day most of the time.
medicine at king’s was killing you every day to the point, where once oscar was able to visit you, he had always made you something to eat, drew a bath for the two of you and took a nap with you. he never complained. for as long as he remembered, most of his days were fast paced — there were little to no slower moments in his life, so despite your insecurities that he must’ve hated you for being too exhausted to spend time with him, he liked just feeling your presence next to him.
your friends, despite the constant teasing, couldn’t be happier for you. you often denied yourself stuff that you probably should experience in life, as a result of growing up in a household where love was conditional. they knew that, it wasn’t a rare sight to see you crumble under pressure, before inevitably breaking down in front of them, so seeing you blossoming like that was not only refreshing, but also relieving.
you were starting your fourth year at the university, while oscar was in the middle of his first season of formula one. before the australian, you weren’t a fan, yet you couldn’t help but bawl your eyes out in pride and happiness, when oscar called you to tell you that he had signed with mclaren.
you had already known about the signing, when oscar came to your shared apartment later, so despite an upcoming test, you spent most of your free afternoon baking him a small cake to show him that his dreams are as important to you as they are to him. you definitely weren’t a great baker, but you tried your best and made a small, lemon flavoured cake with a light, orange-ish congratulations, formula one driver on top.
“baby, i’m home.” your boyfriend called out, entering the apartment as he was taking off his shoes, placing them on a shoe stand. you smiled to yourself at the sound of his voice, head turning to look at him. his hair disheveled, a stubble on his chin, and a slight hint of tiredness in his eyes that seemed to disappear once his gaze fell onto you.
“hey.” you replied as oscar approached you, sneaking his arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss on your lips. “i made you something.” you whispered, tilting your chin to have a better view of his face.
“yeah?” he asked, intrigued. “what did you make?”
“i baked a cake.” you nodded, almost as if it was something you did every other day. “because my boyfriend is officially a formula one driver. i’m super proud of you, you know? and it’s mclaren, too!” you added, a beam creeping up on your lips, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pressed lots and lots of light kisses against his entire face.
a chuckle rumbled in his throat at your silly display of affection, pulling you closer with ease. “i still can’t believe it.” he smiled in between the smooches. “i couldn’t have done it without you.” his voice dropped to a whisper laced with sincerity.
“ah, this is simply bullshit.” you responded, scrunching your nose. “you’re a great driver, baby. you would’ve done it anyway.” you matched the quietness of his tone, bringing your hand to run your fingers through his messy blond hair. “everyone knows that, especially zak and andreas.”
“you did help, though.” he muttered, relishing the feeling of your fingers in his hair. “you keep me sane.” his words earned him a quiet giggle from you. you tilted your head to the side, shaking it lightly, pulling him into a kiss.
it started off slowly and gently, now both of oscar’s arms wrapped around your waist, caging you into his loving embrace. before you knew it, his hands were squeezing your sides, sitting you on the kitchen counter, his body pressing against yours as your lips moved in sync. the pent up stress, pressure and exhaustion slowly dissolving, oscar’s stiff shoulders loosening as your fingers tugged on a strand of his hair.
his tongue has moved past your lips, when you heard a sound, making the two of you pull away from each other in reluctance. oscar’s mom often texted him, when you were either making out on the couch or having sex, almost as if she had a hunch about what the two of you were doing. as a result, you came up with a system that whose phone would go off and interrupt you, the person would have to do something in return for the other one. despite the annoyance of being interrupted, you beamed, knowing that it couldn’t be your phone. that was, until you noticed the smirk creeping up on your boyfriend’s face.
“not mine.”
a loud groan rumbled in your throat, unhappy with the result as oscar passed you your phone from the table. you let out a dutch curse word under your breath, noticing the contact’s name on the notification.
max.
you haven’t spoken to your brother since the end of that year’s season, when you called to congratulate him on his second title. making so much distance between you and your family ever since you were fourteen and in a boarding school was hunting you now. no one from your family knew about your relationship with oscar, despite being together since mid-july 2019. you didn’t want to change it, not because you were ashamed of oscar — that, you could never be — but because you were afraid it would ruin everything between the two of you, and deep down inside you, you knew that your heart would shatter into pieces if that ever happened.
oscar understood where you were coming from, he knew how much of an outcast you considered yourself to be as a kid, and how much work you put into getting away from the town you grew up in. he didn’t mind that he didn’t officially met your blood family, he knew that the friends you went to school with were closer to you and at that time of your life mattered more, so he couldn’t complain, knowing that this family accepted and liked him. your mood significantly dropped, oscar’s hand gently squeezing your thigh for some reassurance, nodding silently, a way of saying that you should call your brother back.
some people would say that your boyfriend was the reason behind the poor connection between you and your siblings, but he was actually the one, who often — subconsciously — made you reply to their texts and calls more, or even calling them yourselves to just check in as you often sent gifts to your two nephews and penelope. although you thought that it was too late to repair the relationship with max and victoria, oscar always told you that it’s nonsense (and he was, indeed, right).
“hey, sorry, i was studying. a cardiology exam coming up soon.” you explained as your brother picked up the call, your voice slightly sheepish as you avoided your boyfriend’s look.
“in december?” max asked. “i was calling to ask if you’re coming back for christmas?”
you sighed softly at the question, knowing that your reaction would probably upset your brother, which you didn’t want to happen.
“uh.” you started. “i–i’m not sure, yet.” an incoherent mumble came from the other side of the line, as you started to pick on the skin of your bottom lip. “i think i am, but not for too long. i have an early flight on the twenty seventh.”
you could see the smile rising on oscar’s lips upon your answer, you were conflicted whether or not you should go back. you missed your brother, sister and mom, but coming home always resulted in your sour mood and not-too-great memories from each year as you always ended up fighting with your dad over something insignificant that made you come back to london sooner than planned. this time, you were supposed to lay down the boundaries and try to have a good time, before flying to melbourne to spend some time with the piastris.
“it would mean a lot to all of us to see you.” max replied in a gentle tone, not wanting to accidentally guilt trip you into coming. “we miss spending time with you, yn.”
“i know, i’m sorry.” your voice broke, sadness washing over your body as you ran a hand down your face to stop yourself from getting too upset. it’s your boyfriend’s big day, you shouldn’t be crying over your familial situation, when it was such a happy day for him.
“i miss you all too.” you whispered, piastri’s hand gently moved up and down your thigh in a soothing mood, helping you calm down a bit. despite not understanding a thing you said since the conversation was held in dutch, he could tell that you were getting upset and it worried him. “i’m gonna be there, okay?”
DESPITE YOUR MOM’S QUESTION UPON YOUR relationship status during last year’s christmas, you didn’t drop a clue whether or not you were dating someone. you felt secure in your relationship with oscar, you didn’t want to jinx it. you started therapy just a few months earlier, but the anxiety to get past this awful feeling of revealing your boyfriend to your family was too much to do yet. you definitely wouldn’t do it without him by his side, and not when your father was around.
throughout the months of 2023, your relations with your mom, max, and victoria had improved significantly, which you were grateful for. by may, victoria’s oldest son, luka, considered you to be his favorite auntie and you really, really liked that feeling.
oscar noticed that you started to come out of your protective shell and he couldn’t be prouder of you. it was around summer break, when you decided that this year, you’d break it down to your family, no more avoiding the conversation you dreaded, but before — you would spend the summer break with your boyfriend in melbourne.
oscar, as usually on his days off, was still fast asleep, when you tried to get out of his grip in the morning. his arm had almost caged you to his side, but somehow — after fifteen minutes of trying to come up with an idea to get away without waking him up, you succeeded.
nicole was already seated at the couch with two steaming cups of coffee in front of her, almost as if she was waiting for you, which you knew she was. it was slowly becoming a little tradition you had with your boyfriend’s mom, you two would sit on the couch in their living room, casually chatting about something, while a movie played on the television in the background to your chatter.
“oscar’s still asleep, love?” she asked in a soft, yet chirpy tone as she noticed you walking down the stairs. your hair was still a bit messy, but nevertheless you looked gorgeous.
“yeah.” a chuckle escaped your lips as you took a seat next to her, taking the mug into your hands. “we stayed up watching a movie last night, apparently i had missed out on the magnificence of david fincher’s filmography.” nicole giggled, shaking her head.
“ah, yes. we’ve been through that, too.” she smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “so, i’ve heard from hattie that you’re planning on going to suzuka with oscar. that’s, hm… how did she call it? a hard launch, right?” you smiled softly, nodding your head at her question.
throughout your entire relationship with the oldest piastri’s kid, you have been to few races, most of them being his formula renault and three ones, when the schedule didn’t overlap with any of your exams. during his first season in formula one, you were only at silverstone, but as a guest of max, making your first appearance in paddock since you were a baby. this time, you’d be there not as max verstappen’s younger sister, dressed in a red-bull jacket with your brother’s number on the back, but as oscar piastri’s girlfriend.
“that’s true, i’m really excited.” nicole’s warm smile upon hearing your response made you feel even more sure that you were making a good decision. “it’s gonna be my last year at king’s, and i really hope i’ll be able to come to more races to support him. i don’t want oscar to feel like i don’t care about his dreams or achievements.”
“i’m sure he doesn’t feel like that, love.” she reassured, reaching out to squeeze your hand with a slight nod. “you still haven’t told your family, have you?” nicole asked, her head tilted to the side in curiosity and empathy.
she was aware of your bumpy relationship with your family, so it wasn’t a surprise she’d asked that. you feared that oscar’s relatives would think you didn’t take him seriously, and even if they did, they never showed it.
“i want to.” you spoke quietly, having taken a sip of the drink in your hands. “it’s been going on for too long and i’m fully aware of that. i can’t see myself without your son, he’s… he’s probably the, uh, the best thing that ever happened to me.” the genuineness of your words was painfully evident. “i just want them to see that, i wouldn’t be the person i am without him. i’m also just… a bit scared of their reaction. i don’t want to hurt them.”
“i’m gonna be frank with you, love. i think they will be slightly hurt that you haven’t told them about oscar earlier.” nicole started, giving you a look full of compassion. “but you did say that they weren’t insisting on staying in touch with you as much as they do now, your relationship hasn’t been as good as it is right now, so after the initial shock, i think they’re gonna understand why you haven’t told them earlier.”
“thank you for saying that, nicole.” you replied softly, smiling at her with gratitude. “it gives me a bit of hope that things won’t go so bad.”
oscar got down an hour or so later, looking like he had just woken up, what was probably the truth. you’ve had a hunch that he would’ve woken soon, so you started preparing something for him to eat before he had to head out for his usual jog (which he skipped yesterday). his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, while nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
you giggled at the sensation of his light stubble against your skin, when he pressed a few lazy kisses along your neck. “g’morning, baby.” he muttered, his voice still having that rought, just-woken-up ring to it. his slightly cold hands moved beneath your shirt, gently caressing your stomach, causing you to shiver at the contact. “what d’you gossip about with mom today?” he asked, continuing with his antics.
“ah, just stuff, love.” you replied, nicole’s petnames rubbing off on you. “edie with a friend will stay at ours before the summer break ends.” you mentioned his younger sister’s plan to come see london and all you got in a response was a soft hum.
“cool, cool.” oscar mumbled a few seconds later, teeth grazing the sensitive spot on your neck, making you bit back a moan. the corners of his mouth turned into a smirk at your reaction.
“ah, fuck off, lad.” a giggle escaped your lips as you turned to face him, having finished preparing some scrambled eggs for the two of you. “go eat, i promised max i’d call him.” after oscar stole a sweet and slow kiss from you, he sat down at the table, shamelessly watching you as you called your brother.
he knew that the situation was better, but he wanted to notice the tiny changes in your expression to comfort you within seconds. he probably wouldn’t understand too much of what you’d say, but before the season started, he’s began thinking about putting a ring on your finger one day, and proposing in dutch sounded like a good idea, so… he started learning on his own, just to be able to surprise you, but also show your family that he cared about the possible language barrier.
“hey, penelope.” you smiled as the four years old girl greeted you after picking up max’s phone. “could you please give me max?” from what you’ve known, max and kelly went to see her family in brazil, so hearing that p wasn’t asleep, wasn’t a surprise.
you could’ve heared ruffling on the other side of the call, before your brother’s voice rang in your ears. “sorry, i was outside.” he apologised. “p said you wanted to talk, everything alright?”
“yeah, everything’s alright.” you smiled at the hint of concern in his voice. “just wanted to ask when you’re flying back to monaco.” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“ah, around next week, i think. not sure though, why?”
“just… uh,” you looked over at oscar and smiled to yourself. “i just wanted you to meet someone. think you could make a quick stop in london before monaco?”
you could’ve heard max stiffle a small gasp and it made you want to laugh. they thought you’d never find someone, didn’t they? after looking at your nails, you turned your gaze to oscar, whose eyes were still watching you carefully. it was so endearing to see your boyfriend like that, so protective over you. you knew you made a good choice of not pushing him away, oscar must be your soulmate, there’s no other way. you sent him a small wink as you awaited max’s reply.
“someone?” he repeated the word. “as in friend? a boyfriend? god, i never thought i’d live to that day. he’s not fifty or something, right?” this time, you couldn’t hold back the laugh. piastri smiled at the reaction, actually relieved that you weren’t getting upset. he’s never seen you talk to jos, but he knew if that happened on his watch, the entire evening, day or week would be spend on comforting the shit out of you.
“what? no, jesus, you’re quite ridiculous.” you shook your head, a smile still present on your lips. “he’s my age, you idiot.” you rolled your eyes playfully, despite max couldn’t see you.
“but he’s good for you?” max asked for reassurance that you weren’t getting into a relationship, which would end up hurting you more than anything else. “he doesn’t hurt you, or anything? and you’re sure he’s your age? that doesn’t go well with your daddy issues.”
“i’m gonna pretend like i didn’t hear that last bit.” you joked, sitting down at the table next to oscar, taking his hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. “he’s super good for me. wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
the reasoning behind telling max before the summer break would end was simple, you didn’t want the information to mess with his performance, but also so he wouldn’t try and run your boyfriend off the track, or crash into him in a rush of emotions.
“alright, tell him to better treat my sister right or i’ll run him over with my car.”
OSCAR WAS TRYING TO CALM YOU DOWN AS YOU paced around your shared apartment, a few days after the conversation you had with your brother. your brother, who was on his way from the heathrow airport to your home.
“baby, it’s gon’ be alright.” he whispered, leaning close to your ear as he cupped your face in his hands, having brushing his nose against yours a few times affectionately. “max won’t sacrifice his relationship with you, solely because you haven’t told him about us. he’s gonna have to understand, alright? don’t stress out.” his thumb moved against the skin of your cheeks, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“you think so?” you asked, meeting his gaze as a small pout appeared on your lips.
“i know so, baby.” he soothed, trying to put your mind at ease, remembering how much hassle the situation had put on your shoulders, having heard you empty your stomach in the morning, when your phone went off once max had texted you that they have just arrived in london.
fourty minutes later, oscar was calling the security guard to let max, kelly, and penelope inside the building. the australian went back to the living room as you had planned beforehand, when you agreed on inviting them to your apartment.
“auntie yn!” penelope smiled, throwing herself at you. you swiftly picked her up, masking the shakiness of your hands. “maxie said you have a boyfrieeeend.” she singsonged with a beam on her face. you could swear to god that in that moment you’d heard the faint sound of oscar’s laughter.
“max.” you gave your brother a look, while he just shrugged unbashedly. “what? it’s true isn’t it? where is that brit of yours?”
“he’s not british.” this time, max gave you a look that said he was confused, while you just shrugged, waving your hand at the three of them, before leading them to the living room. penelope noticed oscar first and murmured to you that he looked really pretty, a warm sensation spreading in your stomach, when the pretty boy smiled at you. the oldest verstappen might get angry or feel hurt, but at the end of the day, no one could do anything to break the two of you apart. you’d chain yourself to the aussie if it was necessary.
“wha— oscar?” max’s mouth fell agape as he took in the sight of your boyfriend, who gave him a tiny, sheepish smile. “hold on a second, what?” he repeated, puting a strong emphasis on the last word.
you weren’t sure if it was inappropriate for you to scoot a bit closer to your boyfriend, leaning against his side as your older brother tried to stomach the fact that the reason behind your often trips to australia was his on-track rival.
“but you were with kelly at the silverstone, not leaving her side at all?” his confusion was messing with your anxiety and you had to do your best to stiffle the laugh bubbling up in your throat.
“yeah, um… we didn’t met at silverstone.” it was oscar’s time to speak up as the bits of contact between you made him more relaxed. “we… have been already dating back then.” piastri explained calmly, his arm going around your shoulders to bring you even closer.
“so that’s why you cried!” kelly smiled at you as your cheeks flushed bright red.
silverstone was oscar’s best finish in formula one so far and seeing him end up almost on podium had melted your heart as you broke down in the red-bull garage. when kelly asked you what made you so emotional, you slipped a small lie, saying that it was because max earned another grand slam.
“you cried?” oscar asked quietly, his heart swelled with love.
“she had a full on mental breakdown.” piquet joked, your cheeks had turned its color from bright red to crimson. it was nothing to be embarrassed about, you loved your boyfriend with all your heart, you couldn’t help but be proud of him for almost every day since you got together. although, he wasn’t supposed to know about your little breakdown.
“i didn’t know about that.” oscar teased you a little, gently pinching your side.
“wait, because i still don’t understand. you were already dating at silverstone, when did you-did you start, then?” the red bull, who — rightfully — couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility that what you were doing right now, wasn’t a silly prank or tiktok of some sort, and you and oscar were actually together.
you opened your mouth to tell him the range of your anniversary, when oscar, like he was aked about it every other day, responded with; “eleventh of july, 2019.”
“fucking four years?” max asked, his eyes widening at the revelation. “four years and you didn’t tell?”
“i was scared that telling one of you would lead to telling dad, and i didn’t want him to say something that would ruin what we have.” your voice dropped insignificantly, oscar’s arm around your body tightening in compassion. “he’s been my rock, i didn’t want to risk losing oscar.”
your brother’s face softened upon hearing the explanation and just smiled. “i’m not taking what i said back. you better treat her right, or i’ll run you over with my car — on or off track.”
ᝰ.ᐟ꩜ yourname . . . at melbourne! dec 28th, 2026
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, inaya66 and 67 218 others.
yourname met this muppet in a bar after years of not believing in love (definitely not at the first sight), overworking myself and worrying all my friends that if i get into my dream university, i’ll have no energy to push forward. took me one glimpse of him (and a jägerbomb) to realise that i need to walk up and talk to him. big thanks to arthur_leclerc for walking up to us and trying to embarrass him.
no one could ever make me as happy as you. not enough words, papers and ink to describe even the quarter of love i have for you, two times world champion. seven years and more to come. thank you for showing me that love can be unconditional and that with you next to me, everything is possible.
(ps. a small sneak peak of one significant bean with us to come through life together xx)
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oscarpiastri happiest seven years of my life. nothing compares to the feeling when i’m with you xx
yourname stop cutting the onions (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞
inaya66 couldn’t be happier for the two of you ☹️
ciarrrra thats a lot coming from u considering u didnt like oscar
aliyahbilal i wanna be you when i grow up
arthur_leclerc safe to say i’m gonna be the best man?? 😝
oscarpiastri don’t push it
arthur_leclerc i made you two possible
ciarrrra baby… she was on her way to him when u walked up to us…
oscarpiastri so WE kind of made u 2 possible :p
maxverstappen1 stop posting sappy stuff, and get here already bean misses her favorite uncle xx
landonorris yeah n you’re not the one
charles_leclerc boys… i have a dog u really think u stand a chance
yourname that’s really sweet that u think u ever stood a chance with alex, jack, and james…
maxverstappen1 over her own blood??
yourname stop shaming my daughter for her choices old guy
sebastianvettel lots of love and happiness to your little family
ciarrrra sign me up for babysitter duty pleaseeee i miss my beanie ☹️
aliyahbilal nooo me me me need to catch up on those nursery gossips with my bestie!!!
victoriaverstappen can’t wait to see you guys 🫶🫶 hailey misses her bestie
mclaren we are always told things last ☹️☹️☹️
yourname you know it’s not true admin why do you lie 🙁🙁
hattiepiastri best soon to be sil 🥳🥳🥳
yourname whats with you piastris and making me cry today!!!
nicolepiastri love you both lots xx
jackdoohan i’m the favorite?? need to come over with gifts asap🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
fin.
author’s notes! super hyped to post this fic 🥹 it’s honestly my baby that i’ve been working on and thinking about it 24/7 (even when i was supposed to be studying LMAO) huge shoutout to my whatsapp girlies esp catalina and sonny!!!! this is kinda not proofread so if u saw any mistakes (which definitely were there) pretend like u didnt 😝😝 part two with domestic dad!oscar and uncle!grid?? lemme know whatchu think <3 requests r open btw!!
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buckyalpine · 5 months ago
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18+ AF Minors dni. Just a lil smutty thought with a scene I imagined. Bucky finds out Tony updated the security system for the compound and upgraded all the cameras to HD quality.
"So what you're saying is that footage would've recorded everything in the kitchen from morning to evening and the middle of the night...everything?" Bucky shuffled by Tony's desk after everyone had left the briefing about the latest Stark tech. Everyone's phones w
"Yes grandpa, that's how a security system works" Tony snorted while Bucky hummed, his mind still wandering.
"Yeah but....everything..in full detail? Including sound?"
"Yes, why, what are you doing in the kitchen" He cocked his head in confusion while the super soldier gave him a blank stare, only blinking twice in response, his cheeks growing redder with each passing second.
"Oh"
"OH"
Bucky scrambled out of the room, leaving behind a cackling Tony, his fingers desperately tapping his phone to unlock and check the security archives. He locked himself in his room, his stomach already churning when he saw the date of the video still very much accessible, dragging his finger to find the exact time-
"FUCK Sergeant!!" Bucky nearly flung the phone, quickly lowering the volume of the video, your loud, slutty moans and fucked out face clear as day. "P-please Sergeant, harder!"
"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"
What had started off as wholesome date night had turned into something else by the time Bucky had you alone in the compound. He'd struggled to keep his hand to himself all night with the dress you were wearing and it didn't help that the waiter at dinner shamelessly flirted with you the entire time. You didn't entertain it but it didn't stop the former assassin from growing jealous, itching to remind you who you belonged to by the end of the night.
You'd gone by the kitchen to grab a glass of water and the sight of you leaning over the counter to fill your cup was enough to break Bucky's resolve. His bedroom could wait.
"Princess" Bucky swallowed thickly hearing his voice dripping with possessiveness, watching himself cage you against the counter, purring in your ear. He could see you shiver as his lips trail up the column of your neck, preening as he licked your skin, pressing his achingly hard erection against your ass.
"B-Bucky" You whimpered, squeaking at the spank he gave you, clicking his tongue.
"Try again, baby"
"Sergeant Barnes" Your voice melted into a moan as he hummed, taking his time slipping your dress up over your hips to give himself a perfect view of your lacy covered cunt.
Bucky fully intended on deleting the video. He was going to highlight the section and get rid of it for good. He desperately tried to ignore the way his cock stirred the longer he watched, unable to tear his eyes off the way you were bent over the kitchen counter like such a good girl, waiting for him to do something.
"That's right. Your Sergeant" The clink of his belt hitting the floor made you whine. He wasn't interested in prepping you, no foreplay, this was pure possessiveness, every vein in his body itching to own you. "You're a little slut for your Sergeant, aren't you princess?"
"M'your slut" you nodded, gasping at the tear of your panties, the lacy material tossed to the side.
"Let me show I fuck my slut" Bucky didn't give you a second to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace, your hips bumping against the marble countertop.
"S-SERGEANT BAR-NES!-" Bucky slapped his hand over your mouth, your broken screams muffled against his palm.
"Take it" He growled, his other hand pressing against your shoulder blades, purely using you for his pleasure, "You love how your Sergeant fucks you, my perfect little slut, mine"
"Fuck Sergeant!!" You wailed while Bucky snaked his hand to circle your clit, his cock starting to leak at the way you tightened around him. You'd never looked prettier. Your makeup was ruined. Sweat covered your body. Your eyes rolled back. Bucky replayed that part of the video over and over again, finally giving into his heavy cock begging for attention. He gave himself a squeeze hoping it would calm him down but before he knew it, he'd pulled it out and started to tug, precum glistening at the head.
"That's it baby, tell your soldier how you want to get fucked, beg for it"
"Pleasepleaseplease-fill-me" you slurred, unable to form sentences while Bucky's grunts grw louder, his pace faltering.
"Gonna fill you up with so much cum, you'll feel me in your pussy for days princess" Bucky fucked you like an animal, eyes feral as he kept you caged under him, his heavy balls and hard cock ready to blow, "We'll go back to that restaurant. Have that same waiter try and talk to you while I drip out between your legs. Won't even let you wear panties baby, want you to make a mess on their chair, let them see where I marked you, fuck m'cumming!!"
Bucky tightly held the base of his cock to keep from cumming as he watched himself pump you full, hips stuttering. He couldn't cum yet. Not when he knew what was coming up next. He watched himself pull out of you, cooing at your soft little whimper before decidedly acting like a deranged feral fuck again.
"Shhh, let your Sergeant clean you up again" He smirked, picking you up with 0 effort and setting you down on the counter, spreading your legs apart so he could lick up every bit of cum that dripped out of you, the most salacious sounds filling the room. He greedily lapped and sucked at your clit, groaning at the tasted of his spend mixed with yours, loving that no other man would get to taste something so good. No other man would get to watch their cum drip out of you after filling you past the brim. No other man would get to have you at your most sensitive, cleaning every bit of their cum off you with their face buried between their legs-
"F-fuck" Bucky whimpered, quickly biting his lip to shut himself up but it was no use. His chest heaved, breathy moans growing louder as he jerked himself faster. "Yes, yeah, shit-" Bucky was nearly whining at this point, his hand working at his sensitive cockhead, giving himself quick, hard strokes, "OH FUCKK" Thick ropes of cum spilled from his cock, a steady stream making a mess all over his sheets as he continued to touch himself, rewinding the video to the beginning. His hard cock wasn't going to go away anytime soon.
Maybe he wouldn't delete the video just yet.
Later in the groupchat:
Tony: Everyone, please don't check the kitchen footage from two days ago at exactly 1:04 to 1:38
Sam: Why would I check that in the first place
Nat: Wasn't planning on it
Steve: I don't know how to access the footage.
Tony: Trust me. None of you should check that exact time stamp.
Tony: 🙂
*a few minutes later after everyone obviously checked the footage*
Nat: Holy shit.
Sam: BARNES YOU DIRTY DOG
Nat: That's hot
Steve: Tony, I still can't access the footage.
Sam: YALL ARE NASTY
Steve: Who is nasty?
Sam: I love it though
Y/n: 😏He's the best sergeant
Sam: HAHAHA
Nat: You guys are so cute 🥺️🥺️
Bucky: I hate you all
Sam: What you gonna do about it Sergeant
-Bucky has left the chat-
Steve: Why did Bucky leave
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seresinhangmanjake · 6 months ago
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About Time
Tyler Owens x Childhood Friend!Reader
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Summary: You’ve been Tyler’s best friend since childhood, but a near-death experience makes him realize he feels much more for you than friendship and he shouldn’t have allowed himself to deny it for so long. 
Warnings/Notes: cursing, mild angst, mostly fluff, typos
Words: 2300
Masterlist
It was when he almost lost you that Tyler knew he was in love with you. When he was forced to play tug of war with the violent winds to keep you in his arms. When he felt your chest move against his with your shallow, rapid breaths. When he heard his name, a soft whimper from quivering lips. 
“T–Tyler…”
He tightened his grasp on your waist and mumbled, “I got you, darlin’. Just don't let go.”
At that moment, he didn't know if he could protect you, but the alternative was an unbearable thought. Living without you was unimaginable, unacceptable, so if the winds planned to take you, they would have no choice but to take him, too. Then at least you'd be going together. 
He’d always felt something for you, and he understood that he probably always would, but he'd been unwilling to give it a name more intense than a teenage crush that just happened to last well past its expiration date. And while your perpetually growing beauty and intoxicating laugh made it hard for him to tame what he continued to feel, he’d managed. 
But that fear of imminent death—more potent than ever—tapped into the depths of those feelings he’d been swallowing for more than a decade. The abuse of pelting rain and flying debris paled in comparison to the overwhelming storm breaking free from the neglected portion of his heart. 
Once disaster moved along, you looked up at him with wide, weary eyes, and he couldn’t think clearly past the repetitive chanting in his head: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you’. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, overpowering every other sense of logic and reason. He pushed strands of damp hair from your face, cupped your cheeks, then leaned down and sealed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. The first kiss. A kiss that typically has a much better outcome than what followed.
He hasn't seen you since that day. A week has come and gone and not one glimpse of your face, and now he’s more desperate for the sight than he’s ever been before. Missing you when you’re not around is far from new, but having released his feelings, the all-consuming sensation is worse. It’s harder to tolerate.
You're avoiding him, he knows it, but he supposes that can happen when someone kisses their best friend with no prior discussion of deeper feelings. It's not what he would do were the situation reversed—he'd still be all over you, kissing you back, smiling, never letting you go—but you've chosen to handle things quite differently, and in doing so, has left him no choice but to respond accordingly.
“Mornin’,” you hear, nearly dropping the pail of milk you’d been collecting all morning. Eyes darting to your right, you find Tyler sitting in one of the living room's quilted armchairs. Your heartbeat stutters. 
When you turn your head to the left, your mother is leaning against the kitchen countertop, her fluffy robe tied around her body and a cup of steaming coffee in her hands that she brings to her lips as she reads the newspaper splayed out beside her. 
“Mom, what is Tyler doing here?”
She glances up, swallows, and swipes her tongue across her bottom lip to catch the remnants of caramel-colored liquid. “Oh gosh, dear, he must've snuck in,” she replies, feigning ignorance. “But I’m not one for kickin’ anyone—especially not a fine, young man—off my property, so I guess he’ll just have to stay.”
With a huff, you set the pail down on the breakfast table, knowing your mother will take care of it, and shoot her a glare before making your way to the living room. Tyler stares up at you. You cross your arms and nudge your head toward the storage barn just behind the house where the two of you used to hold your late-night meetings when you were children, and later, teenagers. Many nights you spent in that barn after Tyler had snuck out of his parent’s house and chucked a pebble at your window to wake you. 
Tyler nods and follows you out the back door to the large structure that protects your privacy from the prying ears of the woman inside the house. 
“We gotta get you a new phone, darlin’,” Tyler says to your back once you're enclosed in the barn. “The one you've got doesn't seem to be receiving my calls…or texts…or elaborate voicemails.”
“Tyler…” you sigh, twisting to face him.
“You know we gotta talk about it,” he says. And he’s right, despite how the complicated element introduced into your relationship is entirely his fault and so you shouldn’t have to owe him the time of day until you're ready to give it. “You didn’t have to run away from me.”
“I didn’t run.” Tyler’s eyes follow the movement of your arms wrapping tighter around yourself and he swallows hard. “I walked.”
“Speed-walked,” he counters. “Borderline jogged.”
You groan, your tense shoulders sagging. “Tyler listen, I just–”
“Do you really think disappearing on me was a fair thing to do?” he interrupts. “I’m your best friend.”
Your jaw drops at the audacity. Not surprising, really; Tyler’s always had a way of wording things that gets under people’s skin, but out of the two of you, he is the last person who should be doling out the criticism. 
“Fair?” you huff. “You’re the one who–”
“I mean, what was so wrong with it?” Long fingers slide through his blond hair. “Can you honestly say you’ve never thought about me in that way? It hasn’t crossed your mind once? No sex dreams? Nothin’? ‘Cause I’ve been wrestlin’ with it since fuckin’ high school, but ok, sure, fine.”
“Ty–”
“And I know it was unexpected but was it really that shocking? Don’t you think we’d be good together? I think we’d–”
“For fuck’s sake, Tyler, will you let me talk!” you snap, your voice carrying throughout the barn.
If you were trying to preserve your privacy, you’ve definitely failed now. Half of town probably heard you and they’re nothing short of a mile away, but at this point, Tyler has pushed you well past caring. Let them hear. Let them know what’s going on between you. They all saw him kiss you anyway.
“We nearly died,” you continue. “People around us did die.”
Tyler’s face breaks down and you instantly regret your words. You know he stuck around after you left. You know he helped everyone he could in the aftermath of disaster while you let your emotions override your system and ran home to cry to your mother over how he just rocked what was your very steady relationship.
“Look,” you sigh. “Even if I wasn’t thinking about death—and that is a massive ‘if’—I told myself a long time ago that you are my friend, just my friend.”
Tyler’s hands settle on his hips. His eyes fall to the floor and his back teeth clench. “Why?”
“Because I repeated it so many times in my head that it solidified,” you tell him, throwing your arms up. “You know why Bradley dumped me last year? And Pete a couple years before that? And Bobby back in high school?” you ask. “Because of you. They all sensed this weird…energy…from you. All of them. Do you know how many times I had to tell them they were crazy? Do you know how many times I had to tell myself that I was crazy whenever they brought it up to me and I actually considered the possibility of you feeling that way?” 
You know exactly how many. Bobby had mentioned it five times before he decided he was done; broke it off with you right before prom and scoffed when he saw that Tyler had stepped up as your date. Pete was shorter-lived; asked you about Tyler three times before he said he could see which way the wind was blowing and had no interest in getting in between anything. And Bradley held the record at seven, each time making the fight outdo the one prior before he was simply fed up with the friendship you refused to sacrifice. Three boyfriends have ditched you solely because of Tyler, and fifteen times you had to talk yourself down from the jolt of excitement you got from imagining him loving you.    
Taking a deep breath, you say, “You don’t just get to kiss me and not let me sort out my thoughts for five damn seconds.”
Tyler’s head snaps up, jaw ticking and eyes blazing. “Five seconds?” he spits. “I haven’t seen you in a week. That’s the longest we’ve gone since I graduated.”
“This isn’t just about you; how you feel; what you think; what you want.”
“Then what are you tellin’ me?” Tyler asks.
The light quiver in his voice unnerves you. Not because you aren’t used to him expressing himself to the fullest—and if he’s ever going to be vulnerable with anyone, it’s with you—but that quiver is typically the trigger for you comforting him, taking him into your arms and holding him, letting him wrap himself around you until he feels better and is ready to stop. For some reason, you never noticed how long he would stay tied to you when you gave him the chance. 
“Are you feelin’ like this is it?” he continues. “Are you wantin’ us to be done?”
And suddenly, you’re irritated again. You can’t stop the roll of your eyes. In no universe would you ever be done with Tyler Owens, and the fact that he would entertain otherwise is asinine. “Don't be dramatic.”
“Well, what do you expect!” he shouts. “You’re actin’ like I’m about to lose you!”
“I didn’t say anything like that!”
“But you're mad that I kissed you!”
“Damn it, Tyler! I am not!”       
Green eyes widen, his breaths heavy from his heaving chest. His mouth opens then closes then opens once more. “You’re—” He licks his lips as you watch him grasp for words. “Then why haven't you called me back?”
You shrug. “I don't know. We've never fought before, and I thought you'd be pissed that I walked off, which clearly you are, so…”
“That’s not true,” he says, moving to take a step closer to you before thinking better of it and staying put. “I haven’t been pissed, darlin’, just terrified. And missing you. And…wanting you.” Heat flares your cheeks, forcing you to tear your eyes away from the desperation in his. “But I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to…I mean, you left and I thought…”
You shake your head. Whatever he let himself think, he was wrong.
The silence that settles over you is thicker than you're used to in his presence. You're used to laughter and jokes, sweet comments and banter. Tension zings in the space between your bodies, but it's pleasant, electrifying, invigorating. You feel the full impact of everything that was tucked underneath the stress and anxiety of barrelling through such a hard conversation. 
Tyler feels it too. His face shows it. His eyes you can only describe as heatedly glittering as he stares at you staring at him. His brows are pinched from frustration of a different kind. It's his lips, though, that reveal his thoughts better than any other feature. They're softly parted, glistening from a swipe of his tongue like he's ready to lock them to yours at any second. Like he needs to be ready just in case you give him the go-ahead so he can kiss you before you dare rescind your permission. 
“What are you thinking?” you ask, words quieter than you meant for them to be, but Tyler hears you.  
His chuckle is short, half-formed, partially overtaken by the exhale of a breath. You detect a slight tease, as if you should already know the answer to that question. 
“That I wanna kiss you again,” he says. “So fuckin’ bad.”
The corners of your mouth struggle not to quirk upward. “Tyler.” He hums. “You know what it means if we do this, right?”
He nods. “We can’t go back,” he says. “But darlin’, I don’t wanna go back. I wanna keep on goin’...with you.”
“Everything will be different.”
“Not everything. We're still us, we'd just be kissin’ and touchin’ and, you know, doin’ other stuff,” he replies with a smile. “Hopefully.”
You picture Tyler standing before you as you have secretly wished you could have him for years—bare and muscled and grinning and telling you he loves you—and for the first time, you aren’t awash with guilt and shame. It feels right to think of him like this. Natural. There’s a soothing ocean of serenity flowing under the flames of desire, and it hits you that this was probably inevitable. All the pieces were there—friendship, trust, love—all there was left to do was act on it. 
“You won't change your mind?” you ask, stepping to him. 
At your question, distress takes over Tyler's face, but it melts into a grin once he notices your smirk. He closes the remaining distance between you and takes your hand, carefully interlocking your fingers. 
“No chance,” he tells you. 
“Ok,” you say, nodding. “Well, if you’re absolutely sure, then I guess it’s ok if you kiss me agai–”
Your chuckle is muffled against his lips. His fingers untangle from yours and he guides your hand to rest on the back of his neck so he can cup your cheek. His free arm coils around your waist, pulling you in closer, and your body melts into his. Your brain fuzzes. You lose all awareness of your surroundings. You think you might just stay like this forever.
----
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severeavenuefestival · 2 years ago
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Traditional Home Bar Huge traditional galley with a seated home bar idea featuring a beige floor, a raised-panel sink, medium-tone wood cabinets, marble countertops, a gray backsplash, and a subway tile backsplash.
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vampiredaisiesss · 2 months ago
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touch me — d.w. x reader
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synopsis - you run your knuckles through the stubble littering his cheeks. your fingers travel upwards, thumb tracing his crow's feet. the lines on his face have deepened as he's grown older as has his hair gotten lighter. you find him all the more beautiful like this.
trigger warning - older dean winchester (early 40s) with younger reader (early 20s)
He thinks about time, about how it marks you, about how each silver strand falling to the floor is another reminder of all the years between the two of you.
The harsh glare of the bathroom light is unforgiving, casting every line on his face into sharp focus. Dean watches your reflection in the mirror. The gentle snip-snip echoes off the tile walls as you work the scissor over his hair, your lip caught between your teeth.
Steam still clings to the bathroom mirror from your shower, making the edges of your reflection soft, dream-like. Your tank top's damp where his hair falls against it, and there's something so domestic about this moment it makes his chest ache.
You hum "Hey Jude" while you work, because of course you know that's what Mary sang when she cut his hair. Of course you know that's what he sometimes hummed in his sleep whenever he'd have a nightmare.
"You're thinking too loud, again," you murmur, running your fingers through the short hairs at his nape.
"I've got shirts older than you," he says finally, the words tasting bitter on tongue.
You laugh out loud, and it sounds like every good thing he probably doesn't deserve. "And they're all flannel, and they all smell like gunpowder and cheap liquor that you probably spilled on them two decades ago, but never got dry-cleaned, and I love them." Your smile turns soft at the edges. "Just like I love the man wearing them."
"Kid—" he starts, but you cut him off.
"Don't 'kid' me, Dean Winchester. Not when you're balls deep inside me every night." You pause for just enough time to fix him a determined stare, and he offers you a small smile.
"You think I don't know who I'm choosing? You think I haven't counted every scar, every gray hair, every year you spent saving the world before I was old enough to know it needed saving?"
The scissor is forgotten on the countertop as you run your knuckles through the stubble littering his cheeks. Your fingers travel upwards, thumb tracing his crow's feet. The lines on his face have deepened as he's grown older as has his hair gotten lighter.
You find him all the more beautiful like this.
Dean's throat tightens. You're stripping him bare with your touch. "Exactly. You could have anyone. Someone who—"
He swallows hard, but he's smiling now. His chest feels heavier with something else. "When you say it like that, sounds like I should be in a museum, not your bed."
"Someone who what? Someone who hasn't survived forty years in hell? Someone who doesn't wake up reaching for a weapon? Someone who doesn't understand why I keep rock salt by the bed and devil's traps under the rugs?" You shake her head. "I don't want easy, Dean. I want you."
"There," you say finally, brushing loose hair from his neck. Your lips find that sensitive spot behind his ear, and he can feel you smile against his skin.
"Please," You chuckle. Your hands slide back into his hair, resuming cutting. "Museums are for looking, not touching. "And I'm very..." snip "...very..." snip "...fond of touching you."
"Touch me," he says, and it comes out like a prayer he never learned properly – rough and wanting and holy all at once. It curls around your heart in the shape of Dean's hand.
He reaches up, catches your hand before you can move away.
You touch him like you're reading braille, like every freckle on his body has a story to tell. Your lips trace constellations across the map of blue veins over his body. And when you finally put your lips on the scar along the side of his hip — the first ever souvenir he collected on his skin — you feel the smallest tremor in his breath. It’s so faint, but unmistakable, and for a moment, you could almost swear you made Dean Winchester mewl.
And you do.
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appocalipse · 6 months ago
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the same thing ・❥・b. barnes
summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
"You should be resting."
You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."
A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."
He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.
"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.
He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.
You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."
You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."
Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.
Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?
Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I'm hungry?"
"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"
Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.
"Hm?"
Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."
"I'll live."
"It was stupid."
"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"
Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.
"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.
"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."
"Fine? You were shot."
"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.
It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.
Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.
You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.
"How bad is it?"
"Huh?" you say in a deliberately casual tone. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."
There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.
Or maybe just not to Bucky.
"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"
"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.
"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."
"You are a terrible liar."
"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."
Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"
"They didn't."
"But what if they had?"
"Then I would have died!"
Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."
You open your mouth, then close it.
"You think I want that?" he asks softly.
"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."
"Just what?"
"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."
A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.
"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."
"It would never be better if you were hurt."
"Bucky—"
"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."
You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"
"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."
The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"
He just looks at you for a long moment.
Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.
"You kill me."
Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"
"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."
Oh.
"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"
"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.
You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.
"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."
You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.
"But I do."
"Do...what?" you whisper.
"Want you."
It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."
His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."
Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.
You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."
"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."
You really want to kiss him right now.
It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.
"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."
"How so?"
"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"
"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"
Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"
Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.
You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"
"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."
His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.
You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.
His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.
"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"
Bucky just smiles against your skin.
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sturnioz · 7 months ago
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‘BACK ARCHED LIKE A CAT’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO
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pairing. matthew sturniolo x fem!reader genre. smut
word count. 1k
❝you look so pretty bent over for me like this, you know that?❞
content warnings. explicit content, kitchen sex with matt, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, oral (female receiving), cum eating, dirty talk.
(edit)authors note. i tried to add the taglist to this, but unfortunately it glitched when i posted it and wouldnt tag correctly so i have given up lol. sorry abt that.
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You’re gasping for breath, whiny moans fleeting past your lips as your fingernails scrape across the kitchen counter in attempt to grasp onto something to keep you stable, knowing that you would definitely fall to the ground if it wasn’t for Matt’s tight hold on your waist, his hips pistoning into yours at a speed that has your body shaking from the force.
The tears build in your eyes as Matt’s hand slides down to the bottom of your spine, pressing down to arch your back further into him which allows him to hit deeper places inside of you, causing your toes to curl as a cry rips from the back of your throat.
Matt’s chest vibrates with a low grunt with each thrust of his hips, and he leans over your body to mouth at the bare skin of your shoulder blade where the strap of your tank top had slipped down during the fun, and his teeth nips around the area.
Your cheek presses to the cold countertop, panting heavily against the marble tiling as Matt abuses your pussy, and his hand curls around your front to dip between your thighs, his nimble fingers rubbing circles on your sensitive clit.
Your thighs squeeze around his hand with a loud wail, and you hear Matt chuckle lowly next to your ear, clearly enjoying how you’re reacting to him. The tip of his tongue traces the shell of your ear as he feels your body tremble and your cunt clench around his cock, eliciting a deep moan from him.
“Yeah? You like that?” Matt questions you with a taunting hum. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around me, sweetheart… you really like getting fucked like this? In the kitchen where we eat? Where anyone could just walk out and see you spread open for me?” He laughs when he sees you nod your head frantically. “Fuuuck. I love it s’much—love it when you’re like this, taking my cock so fucking well. That’s it, sweetheart.”
“Ma—tt.” You hiccup through salty tears, drool slipping from the corner of your lips as your body jolts with each movement, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing throughout the kitchen.
He’s giggling behind you now, and his hands roughly grip your ass, hissing between his teeth as he sends a few harsh slaps to your skin. It was your mind whirling.
“You look so pretty bent over for me like this, you know that? So, so pretty—fuck—you’re so wet too.” Matt babbles as he pounds his cock into your pussy, feeling your walls spasm around him. 
You’re crying now, a blubbering mess of tears and drool at the pleasure and the euphoria that buzzes through your veins, and a shrill shoots down your spine when Matt slaps your ass once again.
“I—shit, oh my god—Matt…Matty, m’gonna cum—” You cut yourself off with a gasp, accidentally knocking the dishes on the drying rack as you try to reach for something to keep yourself grounded, the pleasure in the pit of your belly tightening. “Fuck!”
“Hm, yeah? You gonna cum f’me?” Matt asks you and you immediately respond with a pathetic nod of your head. He grins at that, “I’m gonna cum too… Can I cum inside? Fill this pussy right up? Do you want that, sweetheart?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” You plead repeatedly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Fill me up, Matt. Make me yours.”
“You silly, silly girl…” Matt chuckles as he leans over your body once more, pressing his lips to the back of your neck as he whispers, “You’re already mine.”
Those three words—so fucking simple—were enough to have you coming undone with a loud cry, cumming over his cock that fucks you through it, and he praises you lovingly as his hands stroke down your back.
But the sloppiness of his thrusts is enough for you to know what’s about to happen next and you welcome it immediately, gasping as he fills you up with his cum, shivering as you feel it leak and drip down your thighs. 
Your legs shake as Matt slowly pulls out of you, but he gives you no time to react as he’s already spinning you around to facing him, pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy, heated kiss. His palms lay flat on your cheeks, his fingers digging into your skin to hold you to him as his tongue slips into your mouth. 
He grunts as your teeth grazes over his tongue, chuckling between the kiss as he feels your hands desperately fist at his shirt.
Matt takes a step back after a few moments, his smile wide as he watches you chase after his lips for another kiss, but he hooks his arms beneath your thighs to lift you up and he settles you down on the countertop behind yourself. 
You hiss as your bare ass meets the cold tiles, wincing at the slight sting it causes against your heated skin, but you quieten when you see Matt drop down to his knees in front of you, littering soft kisses around your inner thighs that he pries apart before he dives forward, shoving his tongue between your puffy folds, slurping up the mess that he had created.
His name leaves your lips in heavy pants, and you thread your fingers through his messy hair, grabbing at him needily to tug him even closer as he tastes you, his tongue lapping at your pussy with the most animalistic grunt you have ever heard rumble from his chest.
Matt’s tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, and your thighs twitch around his head as you moan, trying to arch away from his touch but the grip he has on your legs forces you to remain still and open for him, eliciting a cry from you as he drags you closer to his face, not caring if he’s driving you into oversensitivity as he’s too busy eating you out, your arousal and his cum lathering on his tongue. 
“Tastes so fucking sweet,” Matt moans in your cunt, and his eyes flit up to meet yours, his eyebrows raising cockily at you, “Always tastes so sweet f’me, don’t you?” 
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© sturnioz
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heehoonies · 3 months ago
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dreaming 'bout you
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description: after years of pressing down unspoken feelings, jay is feeling restless. he's insatiable, and for who? his best friend's sister.
word count: 5k
contents: panther hybrid!jay x kitty hybrid!reader, reader as heeseung's younger sister, porn with (little) plot, ONE DUBCON SCENE dni if uncomfy!!, not much hybrid content besides ear, tail, and purring mentions!
smut warnings beneath the cut
now playing: poison by nct dream
smut warnings: dom!jay, sub!reader, first heat sex, dubcon scene (reader is asleep), unprotected sex (don't do this), panty sniffing, panty stealing, masturbation (f and m), praise, degradation, big dick jay, multiple orgasms, bulge kink, cumming inside, pet names, slight cum eating.
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the quiet creak of your bedroom door rings in jay's ears, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he slips inside. jay shuts the door behind him gently, his black tail cushioning the sound. his fluffy ears perk up at the sound of your quiet snoring, plush lips parted gently as muffled sounds slip out.
his eyes are trained on your still figure, tracing the curves of your plump thighs, eyes trailing over the dip of your hips, the bare skin exposed by your tiny shorts and equally tiny tank top. your breasts rise and fall gently with each inhale, nipples perking through the thin material barely covering you. jay's cock twitches at the sight, shaking his head lightly as he refocuses his mind on his dirty task at hand.
after all of these years, you still somehow haven’t caught on to jay’s lingering feelings. and after all these years, the ever so patient panther is finally growing impatient. jay, ever the gentleman, feels his restraint slowly dwindling, on the verge of snapping every time he sees you.
jay's rough hands tug your drawer open, the wood squeaking lightly as he pulls the knobs towards his body. the drawer before him reveals a wide collection of intimates, tiny thongs and lacy bikini cut bottoms adorning the container.
“what a naughty girl…” jay mutters to himself as his eyes feast on your plethora of panties, ears perking in tandem with his cock. he searches desperately for a specific pair that rushes a memory into his mind.
you press your hips flush to the island counter, reaching towards your brother for the bag of chips he's just yanked from your hold, before running away from you. 
“heeseung, give it back!” your whines are music to jay's ears as your tiny shorts ride up your body, revealing your ass and giving jay a perfect view of your pale blue panties. the lace cups your plump cheeks perfectly, revealing your plush ass to him, the exposed skin sending heat through jay's body, his tail twitching lightly at the sight. his mouth goes dry as you push even further against the marble countertop, jay nearly catching a glimpse of your perfect little pussy.
you snatch the bag back successfully, returning to your feet and turning around triumphantly, completely oblivious to jay's lustful stare from moments before. you offer him a small smile as he meets your eye, a look in his irises that has you quirking an eyebrow in confusion.
“what?”
“nothing,” jay offers a grin in response, sauntering out of the room with a false sense of relaxation emanating off of him. he rushes to the bathroom once he's out of sight, ready to wrap a rough hand around his aching cock and imagine it's your own soft palm, purring quietly as he jerks himself with a tight grip at the thought of you.
“ah, here we are…  jay's lips crack into a smile, hands grasping at the blue lace buried beneath your other, similarly skimpy pieces. he brings the cloth to his face, pressing his nose against the fabric, inhaling the intoxicating aroma of your pussy. the scent swims around him, sniffing deeply, trying to imprint the smell of you into his brain, press it into his skin permanently.
“hmm?” your groggy voice reaches his restless ears, perking up at the sound of your sleeping form stirring suddenly. he glances over at you, your eyes still fluttered shut as you shift around in bed. “hnng–” you groan, face falling into a frown as your body feels too hot.
jay quickly shoves your panties into his pocket, beginning to back out of your space.
“j-jay?”
jay stops dead in his tracks, tail shutting the drawer quietly. your hand reaches out wildly towards him, eyes opening ever so slightly, body and mind still layers deep in your nasty dream. “jay, please…” your voice sounds oh so pretty begging for him, and jay takes all his strength to push down the desire to ravage your sleeping body.
jay approaches your bed quietly, his hand reaching your head and finding his way between your ears. he scratches between them gently, body screaming from the proximity of the two of you. “shh…” jay soothes, petting the soft fur of your perked, fluffy ears, trying to lull you back to sleep. he smiles down at your figure, gaze raking over your tantalizing body.
jay's voice is soft and gentle as he rubs at your fur, “you're still asleep, y/n…” he lies easily, attempting to hide his lustful secret from you, keeping his voice steady and light to soothe you. “this is all a dream, doll.”
you whine at his words, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure at the feeling of him scratching your ears. “hmm… feels good…”
“yeah? feels good?” jay teases, continuing his ministrations, waiting until you're back asleep to leave with his spoils. his eyes watch you with ease, trailing the lines of your body, mapping out the features of your face like he’s done a million times. jay can never forget your delicate face even if he tried, your face haunts him whenever he closes his eyes, bringing a simultaneous heat to his body and fullness to his balls.
“mhmm, thank you…” you whisper, the lilt of your voice sending his mind spinning.
you're finally slipping back into your restless sleep, head subconsciously leaning towards his fingers. jay indulges you for a little longer, his free hand slipping down to the crotch of your shorts. the rough pad of his fingers meet cloth covering your heat.
your hips twitch forward as you sleep, eyes still gently sitting shut, fluttering the tiniest bit at the contact. jay hides a small grin as he presses harder this time, your body reacting once more, harsher this time, as you moan at the feeling permeating even your sleepy mind. you instinctively chase his hand with your hips and jay chuckles lowly at the action.
jay’s hand slides beneath your shorts, fingers dancing along the fabric of your panties. you whimper when his rugged fingertips run through your folds, hovering over your clit momentarily. jay pulls away when he notices your body squirming more than before. the last thing jay needs is to have you waking up and seeing him like this… he’s a gentleman in your eyes, or so he thinks, and seeing him like this would most likely break your world view.
jay finally retreats his slender digits from your soft fur, groaning silently as he approaches your door. in his hazy mind, jay swears he sees a wet patch sitting in your tiny little shorts as he slinks out of your space, a pocket full of baby blue lace that smells like you.
when jay returns home later after a night of gaming with heeseung, he wraps his rough hands around his cock, stroking himself with the blue lace of your panties, panting wildly at the thought of fucking into the fabric as you wear them. his length would slide deliciously over your wet core, your hips bucking up to chase his warmth, urging for a feel of his tip against your hole, squirming in discontent from his incessant teasing.
jay imagines the whine in your voice as you plead for him to properly fuck you, tail flicking wildly with annoyance and pure desire at his blatant disregard for your needs.
jay would punctuate your brattiness with a particularly slow glide, his tip pressing against your panties once more, ignoring your weeping pussy as more slick drips from it, coating his length in further warmth.
“take what i give you, pretty baby,” jay would command, his tone venomous to combat your urge to push his buttons, unable to exercise any patience. jay wonders if you’d become a whining, needy mess because you’re so horny…
or because you need him.
“need you!” the lilt of your voice coupled with your pretty, well manicured nails digging into his biceps, gripping the toned muscles of his arms to stabilize yourself.
in reality, jay tugs slower on his cock now, feeling himself tumbling closer to a mind blowing orgasm, courtesy of your panties and his vivid imagination. he wonders if your grip on his cock would be gentler, wonders if your small hands would be able to fit around him at all.
and the thought of your size paling in comparison to his own, coupled with the rough drag of the lace along his sensitive length, is what sends jay over the edge, cum spurting up onto his abdomen. most of it catches on the fabric in his grasp, painting white all over your once pristine panties. jay heaves a sigh, slowly jerking himself through his orgasm to the point of near overstimulation.
as jay cleans himself up, he wonders if you’d lick the cum off his body. a thought that he chases off quickly, urging himself not to get hard again at the mere thought of your tongue on his sweaty skin.
a loud whine sounds in the background, followed by a painful sounding screech of a familiar voice. heeseung sighs deeply into his mic as he gets one shotted again, “fucker!” he yells, pushing away from his desk in frustration.
“what’s that noise, dude?” sunghoon questions, weaving his way through the map with practiced ease, listening close for any noises from the opposing team.
“my sister, she’s… going through something right now.” heeseung sighs as he returns to his chair after taking a quick lap around the room to calm himself. “none of you are allowed to come over until she’s better.”
jay quirks an eyebrow as he listens intently for the background noises, heart clenching at the sound of you seemingly in pain, his mind racing as to why you would be screaming out in agony like that.
“sounds like more than ‘going through something’, but okay…” jake muses, sipping loudly on his drink of choice.
sunghoon chuckles deeply as he hits the final kill of the round, clutching the game for them, “careful dude, you’re gonna spill on your keyboard again if you keep drinking soda so close to your pc.” heeseung joins in on the laughter, the duo teasing jake for his mishap that occurred merely a week earlier.
“my mom just asked me to stop by her house, i’ll be back in a bit.” jay announces, quickly logging off before any of them can argue and try to convince him to stay, knowing this might be his only chance.
jay’s cock feels impossibly heavy in his jeans as he drives to heeseung’s house. he parks on a sidestreet, knowing heeseung will be out for blood if he sees jay’s car nearby. with a quick lock, jay pockets his car keys and beelines for heeseung’s house. he slips past the gate into the backyard before finding your window easily. jay slides his hands along the pane, groaning at the muffled sound of your pained whines hitting his ears even when he’s outside. jay’s fingers search around for a spot to grab onto, seconds feeling like hours as his arousal grows senselessly.
a small creak sounds as jay is finally able to slide the window open, thanking every lucky star above that you forgot to lock your window, wondering deep inside his mind if you were subconsciously begging for this. jay steps inside, pushing past the closed curtains, the hanging cloth brushing gently against his tail. jay shuts the window behind him, being sure to switch the lock this time.
he’ll be damned if anyone besides him tries to have their way with you.
you’re so fucked out that you don’t even notice the man sneaking in through your window, not caring who sees you. your clothes are stripped off haphazardly, laying where they may in your space when you ripped them all off in a frenzy. loud whines escape your lips as your fingers fuck inside your hole while thumbing at your clit, your free hand gripping the sheets tightly at the overwhelming feeling of pure need never leaves your body. you feel like you’re on fire as you sit here, begging for another release, to be free from your the all encompassing experience of your first heat.
a louder than expected groan escapes jay’s throat at the sight of you, all sweaty lying on your bed, sheets soaked from fluids and sweat, the pillow beneath you looking like a halo around your crown.
the noise makes you jump, fingers reaching further than before and thumb catching on your clit in a toe curling way, one that spreads shocks through your system. you clench your eyes shut and groan at the feeling of your orgasm washing over you, sparks exploding behind your eyelids, hand loosening on the sheets only for a moment. your tail lies gently atop the bed as your ears twitch wildly with every shockwave that rushes through your body. after eons of pleasure ripping through you, open your eyes slowly, squinting as you come down from who knows what number orgasm, one of your previously planted feet slipping and dropping your leg to the bed. a figure towers above you and you tilt your head back to look at their face.
“fuck–” jay’s breath hitches. you look gorgeous when you cum, and jay is determined to see you reach your high over and over.
your breath catches in your throat as jay’s sharp face comes into view, your own flushing at the sight of him, ears tweaking in simultaneous interest and continued need, a need that overwhelms all your senses and all remaining rationality left in your brain. in its wake exists a pulsing desire for the man before you, one that’s always stirred within you but you’ve ignore for years, too afraid of the repercussions.
and now said man is presenting himself on a silver platter in your deepest time of need.
a whine escapes at the sight of him as jay presses two fingers to the underside of your chin, pressing your mouth shut. you didn’t realize your jaw had dropped. embarrassment rushes through your senses before you blink at him with wide eyes.
“what? cat got your tongue?”
your mind is already fuzzy as you stare up at him, too overwhelmingly horny to cover yourself or hide from his gaze, the hunger pulling at your insides and pooling in your stomach. you’re simply too dumbstruck by the man in front of you to even form a coherent thought, so you just stare.
“d-don’t tease me…” you whine, eyes wide like saucers as you watch him.
“i won’t tease, baby, don’t worry…” jay grabs your wrist, pushing your fingers deeper into your dripping, messy, oh so sensitive pussy. “you need help, doll?”
jay smirks, chuckling deeply as your face twists in an alluring mix of pain and pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as both sides of the same coin battle for dominance. you nod wildly to answer his previous question, mind reeling as you’re desperate, begging to be touched by him, as your ears and tail’s movements further convey your desire to him.
“j-jay…”
jay kneels on the bed with a wide stance, trapping your lower body between his knees. his arousal is palpable, taking every ounce of self control in his body not to jump your fucking bones right now, knowing that no matter how much you’ve stretched yourself out, he was still going to hurt you. “shhh, pretty, let me help you.”
jay continues guiding your own hand in and out of your sopping pussy, hungry eyes devouring your body with ease. jay takes in every curve and dip, pretty nipples atop perky breasts, to gorgeous hips that lead to your greedy cunt that’s taking every inch of your own fingers with ease. you claw at the sheets, everything feeling like too much yet not ever enough to quench the undeniable thirst that’s rushing through you, flooding your system and sending your head into the clouds. jay’s free hand slides up, pressing over your stomach before palming your entire tit in his hand, gripping tightly, sucking in a sharp breath at the sound that squeaks out of your mouth followed by a louder yell.
jay’s view returns to the sight of your slick coated fingers, watching with his cock strain further against his jeans as they slip so easily in and out of your hole, sliding past your plush folds with each yank. it’s not enough, even with jay guiding your hand, and you grab his wrist with your free hand, frustration washing over you. the aroma of honey and raspberries drips from you, alluring and warm as it presses against his brain, curving through his subconscious as it quickly becomes his favorite smell in the world.
“jay, please…” you beg, voice whiny, the tone making jay grow even harder, balls feeling heavier as he watches you. “please, need you…”
jay smiles, pulling your fingers out fully before taking both wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head. he leans over you, mouth ghosting over yours, tantalizing in his actions, lust dripping from every pore of his body, before bringing your hands above you. you watch as he takes the fingers that were just inside your heat and captures them in his mouth. a moan rips through you as you watch him, tearing up from the frustration of not being touched right now. your body is burning, every touch from jay setting you further ablaze, uncomfortable and inescapable warmth crowding you from all sides. your hips buck wildly, chasing his length, aching for some relief for your needy hole.
“fuck–” jay groans lowly when he slowly slips your fingers out of his mouth, watching as a string of saliva drips between them. “you sound prettier than i imagined…” your pussy clenches around nothing as jay speaks, more slick gushing out and staining the sheets beneath you.
“god, you’re so fucking sexy–” jay groans as his free hand begins unbuckling his belt, tossing it aside easily before ridding himself of his bottoms. you watch, mouth watering at the sight of his cock sitting against his abdomen, standing proudly against his toned stomach. the girth of him makes you whimper before jay’s hand comes up and presses against the side of your mouth. jay gathers the spit that’s drooling down your chin on his digits and forces them into your mouth, “you’re already drooling like a cock drunk little kitty and i haven’t even put it in yet– what a nasty little girl you are…” he degrades, “gonna let me fuck you, baby? need me that bad?”
you nod wildly, fingers still diligently suckling on his fingers as he shifts his hips.
“ah!–” you whine loudly, walls fluttering as jay presses his tip against your aching hole.
jay’s head is spinning as he feels the warmth of you on his mushroom tip, any restraint he had left leaving his body in an instant as he bullies his cock inside your pussy, pressing balls deep with one thrust. jay’s eyes roll into the back of his head at the feeling of you surrounding him completely, so wet and warm and tight, impossibly tight, tighter than any fist or pocket pussy that he’s fucked to the thought of you, tighter than he ever imagined was even possible.
“fuck, baby,” jay growls, panting and breathless as he sets a back breaking pace, “even with your pretty little fingers stretching your tiny pussy open, you’re still tight as fuck around me–” he throws his head back as the fluttering of your cunt greets him with each slide.
his hand slips from your mouth, cupping your cheek for a moment as he whispers, “so fucking pretty… all of you is so pretty for me.”
“jay jay jay–” his name slips from your lips over and over like a prayer, his cock erasing every other thought in your brain with each thrust. “‘s too big!” you whine, trying to free your hands from his grip to claw at his meaty, delicious biceps. everything about him is inviting –no, intoxicating– as he fucks you senseless, thoughts being brushed away easily and replaced with only him. his cock, his hands, the deep timbre of his voice, the way he degrades you– everything about jay is overwhelming you, and the realization of it all sends you easily tumbling over the edge, eyes fluttering as you clench around him impossibly tight, cum rushing out around jay’s thick length.
“you look so pretty, cumming from just my cock like that…” he’s breathless again as his cock twitches inside you, groaning lowly at the feeling of your cum coating his length as he buries himself to the hilt over and over, tip nearly brushing your cervix with each thrust, “how many times ‘til my baby is satisfied?”
you shake your head, overstimulation pressing into your skin as he fucks you through your orgasm. your body warms up further, whines escaping your lips as you already feel your stomach twisting in knots again, the overwhelming arousal and need never slipping from the forefront of your mind.
jay’s hand slides from your cheek down to your clit, the initial contact making you cry out with a pained whine, your tail jerking up instantly before jay’s long, black tail is entwining with your own, a smirk crawling over his lips, “every part of you wants me, isn’t that right?”
you nod wildly, the softness of his fur pressed against your own making you feel fuzzier than before, every part of jay feeling so impossibly close, yet you need him closer, need him to overwhelm you even further, to press himself so deep into your skin that it’ll make this insatiable, world shattering hunger dissipate from your mind, leaving only thoughts of him in its wake.
“waited so long for you, angel–” jay rambles between each thrust of his delicious length. jay towers over you as his movements continue, leaning down to capture your puffy red lips, his mouth gliding over your own in a messy, passionate display. his pretty lips slide against your own deliciously, and a particularly sharp press against your clit has your jaw going slack against his.
you’ve never cum back to back like this, never in your life experienced something so primal before this moment.
your head is spinning, tail squeezing his impossibly tight as your walls clench around him for the second time. jay grunts lowly as he feels your squeezing him tight, the warmth of your walls sending his mind reeling as he stills, one hand gripping your hip with a bruising hold, pressing your flushed, warm skin against his own, wanting your heat to permeate and fill his body with a similar overwhelming, dizzying warmth.
jay watches in awe as your ears press against your head this time, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you press around him so tightly, nearly forcing his cock out of your weeping hole from the force of your orgasm. the wetness rushing around him is enough to have jay biting your lower lip. the pain is indecipherable through your mind numbing high, heat still running through your system as he thrusts into you once more, each yank of his cock pulling nearly all the way out before slamming deep, pushing his body flush to yours, nearly touching your cervix with each concentrated movement.
“keep squeezing me like that, baby, fuck–” jay groans, unable to control himself as he slides his slick lips against yours, capturing your attention once more after the shockwaves of your orgasm have subsided. “jay–” you groan against his mouth.
he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes, hunger swimming in his gaze as he watches you, “what is it, angel?”
“it’s so hot…” you whine, squirming in his hold, “too hot!”
jay nods sympathetically, cupping your face gently, “i know baby, jay will make it feel better, okay?” he offers you a smile when you nod, “there you go, angel. now how about you give me one more?”
jay doesn’t wait for your answer this time, instead resuming his pointed thrusts into your welcoming hole and practiced shapes on your sensitive clit. your ears smush against your head as his presence continues to overwhelm you, sending you further into a headspace where you feel so small, in the most delicious way.
“jay," you whimper, “need you!”
“need me what, baby?” jay’s voice is deeper than before, delicious and enticing as he questions you.
the feeling of his cock bullying itself further into your heat with each thrust has your brain feeling numb, “i-inside…”
“i’m already inside you, angel, feel me up here?” jay presses on the delicate skin of your stomach, groaning aloud when he feels the tip of his cock protruding through your skin. “fuck–”
you nod wildly, hands finally free to grab onto his biceps as you squeeze them harshly, trying to keep a semblance of a grip on reality.
“baby doesn’t even know what she’s asking for…” jay tsks, shaking his head lightly as he grunts lowly with each thrust, “needy little girl.”
his words send a whimper tumbling from your mouth before you feel yourself once again teetering on the edge of a delicious precipice, one that separates you from a shockwave of pleasure.
“c-cum inside me, please!” you beg, whimpering as jay groans aloud at your admission, thrusts stilling as he presses flush against your pelvis, painting your insides white. he never ceases his movements on your clit, and the feeling of fullness coupled with the incessant pressing of shapes on your sensitive bud have you falling for a third time, the speed of it all would’ve astounded you if you were anywhere near in your right mind.
“fuck!” jay yells as you squeeze him impossibly tight, cum rushing around him and filling your hole, a ring of white sitting around the base of his cock.
you feel like you’re in another world, butterflies thrumming around beneath your skin and fireworks exploding in your belly. your head is full of cotton balls and all you can feel is pure pleasure as you pant, trying to catch your breath. not a single coherent thought is in your brain as a distant warmth presses against your cheek.
jay watches you closely, concern growing a bit at the sight of you looking completely brainless, not a single thought behind your eyes as you stare up at his sweaty face. he thinks you look beautiful like this, the prettiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, all flushed and fucked out beneath him, eyes wide in wonder as you slowly come down from your final high. each touch from him feels like he’s imprinting himself into your skin, trying to press his existence into the curves of your brain.
jay stays still as he waits for you to come down from whatever world you’re in right now, petting your ears gently to coax you back to him. the fur feels soft beneath his rough hands, smiling lightly as the realization finally washes over him.
“mmm–” you groan, eyes filling with a small sign of life and consciousness once more, “jay…”
“i’m right here, pretty,” jay smiles.
your insatiable hunger dissipates, slowly slipping out of your form as you’re released from the chokehold of the heat you’ve been battling. your body still feels warm as his presence surrounds you.
the embarrassment of it all finally begins to wash over you, and you throw an arm over your face to hide from him. jay giggles at your antics, prying your arm off slowly before pressing a gentle kiss to your pouty lips. “i just watched you cum three times, and now you’re gonna be embarrassed?”
you shake your head, burying your face in his chest. “no… not embarrassed…”
“your actions say otherwise, pretty girl,” jay teases, gently petting your ears and pressing a kiss to your messy hair.
your body hums with a sense of security, the safety of him wrapping you in a blanket of warmth. the feeling of being so vulnerable, the overwhelming fear growing in your stomach, is eased by the fact that jay has grown up with you all these years. his kind smile has always brought a sense of peace to your body, and that trend continues through the present moment. as you lean back and meet his eye, his loving gaze trained on the spot where he's scratching your ears gently, your heart soars.
“just… tired.” you offer him a small smile, your unease slipping away as he holds your exhausted body.
“i’m not surprised,” jay chuckles.
jay slides his hands down from your head to cradle your hips, pulling your body closer to his, his warmth surrounding the two of you. his touch is tender and light as he holds you close, gently grasping at your delicate skin like you might crack if he presses in too deep. “will you…” you begin, eyes darting around his face, unable to meet his eye, “stay?”
jay’s pretty lips crack into a dazzling smile, chuckling lightly at your embarrassed state at asking such a simple question, one he thought would be obvious. though he’s sure your post heat daze is making you question everything right now.
“i’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”
you smile softly at his answer, low purrs emanating from your still form, “even if it’s longer than just today?”
"you asking me to take you on a date, pretty girl?”
you hide your face in his chest, blush flushing your cheeks and spreading heat through your body once more, one that could rival the temperature that filled your senses merely moments before.
“what if i was?”
jay scratches at your ears with one hand once more, pressing a kiss to your messy, post sex hair. “then i’d take you on the best first date imaginable.”
“and after?”
“and after i’d fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”
“jay!”
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teddybeartoji · 9 months ago
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彡 WEEPING, CARVED OPEN HEARTS
☆. contains: bf!toji fushiguro x gn!reader; mild angst with comfort (they had an argument oh no), toji learns how to apologize, toji is in love wc: 2.3k
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your throat is sore and your eyes burn. you're tired and sad and upset and you just want it to be over already. but his sharp words swim laps in your head and you can't think about anything else. the ceiling of your shared living room is the only form of solace at this point, the shadows of the street putting on a show just for you.
the warm light of the lamps that stand tall behind the apartment window use the ceiling as a canvas, the passing cars as little characters running around. you hear hollering – it's saturday night, people are having fun. and you're curled up on the sad couch with a sniveling nose.
you hear steps and the bathroom door clicking shut and you use the moment to grab your stuff; a pillow, a blanket and a change of clothes – the very same sad couch will be your best friend tonight.
he turns on the water and you stand behind the door, longingly staring at the wood, wishing the night had gone differently.
but it didn't. so, you put on your pyjamas and sink into the couch. letting a few last tears fall from your eyes, you try to get some rest.
try.
while you're cocooning yourself away from the world, toji is staring at his own reflection in the foggy mirror. hands splayed on the cold countertop, his head hangs low and the running water turns into a muffled sound in his ears; dark strands of hair fall in front of his exhausted eyes, and he too, can't stop thinking about his own words.
regret fills his veins, threatening to explode under his skin. he can't tear his eyes from the disappearing reflection, the steam covering up more and more of the glass, hiding his guilty stare. his heart beats in morse code, calling out your name with every breath he takes but he's still stuck in this tiny shrinking room while you're out there – in the dark, in the cold, drowning in the impact of his words. he didn't mean them, he didn't. toji squeezes his eyes shut and his head drops to his chest. he thinks about your trembling hands and your shaky voice.
a sigh.
a miserable one.
he drops his towel and stands under the hot water. the warmth takes him in but it's nothing compared to you. the droplets comb through his hair but it's nothing compared to you. they cascade down his scarred shoulders and the muscles of his back, but it's nothing.
compared to you.
the smell of the shampoo makes him want to vomit. your shampoo. his shampoo. he rubs at his scalp and lets the suds drip over his face. he scrubs his body and he wishes he could do it harder. he hopes that you're sleeping well. no, he doesn't. he wants to say goodnight to you.
he tilts his head up towards the shower head and closes his eyes, letting the water run over his neck and his adam's apple, washing away all of the remaining ugly words that might've still been lurking in his throat.
he turns the water off and steps out. only throwing on his sweatpants, he doesn't even bother drying himself off, he just needs... you. he needs to hold you, he needs to hear you. he needs to feel his heartbeat.
one step out of the bathroom and toji can already see the corner of your blanket hanging from the edge of the couch. he fists the material of his pants at his side as he breathes out. it hurts. slowly, he approaches your bundled up body, trying to figure out whether you're already asleep or not. your face is hidden in the pillow, your back facing him and he just wants to see you.
"leave me alone."
it hurts.
his head falls back, his eyes raking over the faint shadows on the ceiling. a car honks on the street below, the wind blows behind your cracked open window. his chest feels heavy, his shoulders hurt.
"why aren't you in bed?"
quiet. you think about not answering. you thought about not talking to him throughout the entire night, but now that he's here... it's harder than you thought.
"because you're mean. and you hurt my feelings." your fingers dig into the pillow under your head. "and i don't want to fucking see you."
his knee cracks when he squats down beside you. his fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair, to pull you into his body and never let you leave.
"well, thank god you can't see anything when yer sleeping then, hm."
he's infuriating. he sounds tired. you want to slap him, you want to push him away. you hate that you can hear strain in his voice. you want him to say that he's sorry. you want to hold him. you want him to show that he cares.
leaving the safe confines of the warm blanket, you whip your head towards him. the light coming from the outside is barely enough to show you his eyes. they're soft, softer than you've ever seen them before. a dark forest; the green circular windows are pleading for you. please, don't be scared of what's inside.
"no arguments for the first two statements?"
you're a inches away from bumping your nose against his, your warm breath hitting his skin as you scoff. the pain is still there, slowly but surely turning into anger but he understands.
"i'm– trying, yeah?"
your eyes flick between his, searching for... something.
"why is your own pride more important than my feelings, toji?"
...
he fucking hates the way you're looking at him. loathes.
you look exhausted too, eyes swollen from all of the crying from before and now there are fresh tears forming in the corners of them.
because of him.
why is his pride more important? it isn't. it isn't, it isn't, it isn't. and yet... silence. something scratches in his throat – it wants to get out but it's hard. a drop rolls over the apple of your cheek and his head falls against your shoulder with a sigh. you don't push him away, you don't invite him in either. why is it so hard for him?
"i just feel like you don't care at all sometimes. when you refuse to apologize – it seems like we're competing against each other but i don't even know what the game is."
your voice is shaky and you're doing your best to come off as composed as you can because you want him to hear you out. you're scared he's going to brush you off. again.
he fiddles with the edge of your blanket, his weight heavy on your body.
"apologizing doesn't make you weak, you know. you're not losing anything – toji, we're not competing over anything. it would simply show that..." you take a big breath in, and let a big one out. "it would show that you do care. that you listen to me, that you want me here."
somebody laughs in the distance. toji smells so good. you close your eyes and focus on what you're about to say.
"it's okay for it to be hard, i don't expect you to spill it right away but it is important to me. i need to know that you're not just dusting away my feelings just because you find them difficult to deal with."
pulling your one hand from under the covers, you let it dig into his wet dark locks. your shampoo, his shampoo.
"but if they are too difficult to deal with..." you trail off, your own thought making more tears fall from the corners of your eyes. he buries his forehead into your body as you play with the hair on the nape of his neck and you feel his fingers digging into your blanket.
"don't say that... fuck– please, don't say that."
"i can't do it like this, toji. i'm not gonna apologize for being emotional. i'm not gonna apologize for being myself, for being alive." you hiccup. "i'm not gonna apologize for not being a brick fucking wall."
"i know, sweetheart, i know."
"do you?"
his teeth sink into his bottom lip and he thinks about your smile. about how your eyes shine in the warm sunlight. how you cling to him even when in your sleep. how you keep ruffling his hair even though he pretends to hate it. how cute you look when you steal his massive sweatshirts. how comforting your voice sounds, how well your hand fits into his. how intently you always listen to him, how you wash his back after a long day at work. how stupid your jokes are. and how much he lo—
...
how much he loves you.
your fingers comb through his hair and you're still coddling him despite the fact that you're upset. and sad, and angry. he thinks about how he doesn't deserve you. how you'd be better off with someone else.
he feels you falter, just a bit, and he knows he's wasting time. you're tired and you want to sleep and you want to feel his love. you want to hear it. and nothing gets to be more important than you. he makes that promise in his head, in his heart.
his sun, his moon, his stars. the smell of coffee in the morning and the feeling of your arms around his waist. his everything.
"i'm..."
fuck.
you turn your body, now fully laying on your back, and pull his head against your chest. he listens to your heartbeat and his hands snake around your middle.
"i love you."
he knows for a fact that you're too good for him.
he hasn't even said it yet but you're determined to let him know how you feel. he knows it's not meant as an encouragement either – you're completely bare before him; honest and straightforward, meagerly waiting for him to do the same. hoping he'll do the same. he's not stupid, he knows your patience is running low but you're still trying. still giving him the chance to do right by you because you want him to do right by you.
he gives you a squeeze, nuzzling his face into chest as if he could somehow reach your ribcage that way. he knows his rough hands have to work overtime to hold your big delicate heart and he's scared.
but your heart is probably scared too, isn't it? wouldn't it be scary to be held by these calloused hands; hands that only know pain and hurt?
this is how it goes. you're both scared and you'll both hold each other. whispering praise into the other's ears, regardless of the fear of getting hurt. trust – it's about trust.
i love you. you make me feel safe. stay with me. let me get that for you. let's shower together. i made you coffee. i want you to come with me. hold my hand. kiss me. hug me. hold me. i want you.
i trust you.
"i'm sorry."
...
muffled, and spoken into your skin – it's enough. it's more than enough for you.
soft, warm hands cradle his jaw and raise his head from your chest. soft, warm eyes hold his gaze and he knows his on the right path.
"fuck–" a shaky laugh; his own emotions are swallowing him whole and you're the only thing holding him up. he watches your lips curl up and relief takes over. he melts into your touch and you guide him to your lips.
you hold him there for a moment – noses touching, breaths mingling together. "thank you."
a bear hug, a high-five, a burst of laughter. an ocean wave – intense, and a lot. freeing. the feeling washes over him and he lets himself sink into you. lips against lips, chests against chests, hearts against hearts; without parting from you, toji climbs onto the couch, resting his entire body on top of yours. you don't complain.
he breathes you in and you do the same. he leans to the right and you do the same. he keeps you close and you do the same. his hand kneads the soft flesh of your waist and your hand rakes through his still wet hair. it feels right. it is right.
toji scrambles to push the blanket from between your bodies, desperate to rid of the barrier that's keeping him from his beloved. his rough hands push your shirt up just enough to feel your skin against his. he sighs into your mouth and he feels you smile against him.
your hands clasp behind his neck, pulling him flush to you and you hook your leg over his hip. latched together, forged together.
"i love you." a murmur, accompanied by a kiss to the corner of your lips. he places another onto the curve of your jaw before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.
you turn your head and press your lips to his forehead. "i love you, too."
he's warm and his arms feel so good around you. he's heavy, borderline crushing you under him but you wouldn't have it any other way. you're also a breath away from falling off the couch but you know he wouldn't let you do that. not today at least.
right now, toji is determined to keep you safely in his arms until one of you is dying of hunger and thirst. absolutely nothing else will make him move – he just might let you piss your pants if it comes to that.
for the sake of love, of course.
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propagandagothic · 2 years ago
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Galley Home Bar Large traditional galley-style seated home bar idea with a beige floor and light wood floors, an undermount sink, medium-tone wood cabinets with raised panels, marble countertops, and a gray or subway tile backsplash.
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