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moderndaypandora · 1 year

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The LAYERS needed in a modern/human Dreamling au. Some level of Endless family dysfunction, obviously. Hob's family can be be dead or not, it's all good. Are they old enough to have individually gained the awareness they are off-puttingly intense and should hide it a bit at first, or still in that "no, why would I need to Elsa this" stage?

Option A is both of them trying to play it cool, like "don't scare him off" except they so badly want to go from zero to sixty.

(Death and Desire have ruthlessly drilled Dream with flashcards about how to react appropriately in situations.

Desire: it's your one-month anniversary, what do you do?

Dream: [hesitantly] NOT propose?

Desire and Death, conferring, because that's technically correct but the delivery was suspect.

Death, encouragingly: Good start. And? 

Dream: a nice dinner and maybe a walk?

Desire: well done!

Death: and for a three-month anniversary?

 Dream: give them a key to my flat.

Desire: [airhorn] NO. RED CARD.)

Option B makes them the classic anecdotal "my grandparents got engaged within seven days of meeting each other and still are happy together".

(Death, rubbing her temples: so you met this guy--

Dream: Hob

Death: -- Hob, and within 1 day you gave notice to the Registrar's Office and figured out the best day to get married. And Hob agreed to this?

Dream: NO.

Death: oh thank go-

Dream: Hob SUGGESTED this.

Death: . . .

Dream: are you going to be a witness or not?

Death, 29 days later in the Registrar's Office, to Hob's witness: Is he sane?

Johanna Constantine, drinking heavily from a large flask: unfortunately yes, by all legal definitions.

Death: fuck

Johanna: [passing the flask over] if your brother's even a tenth as intense as Hob, they'll be fine. Probably.

Death, brightening: Is Hob that bad? 

Johanna: You know how sometimes you meet somebody and think "oof, they're a bit much, best give them a wide berth"? 

Death: yeah.

Johanna: Hob's like a camouflaged hole in the ground of muchness. Except he's done the hole up all nice and he knows that sometimes you just want to be left alone in the hole to sulk and rattle the spikes for a bit, and occasionally get a F&M hamper tossed in.

Death: [hmmmmmmm'ing approvingly]

Johanna, morose: the bastard.

In the background, Hob and Dream are pressing their foreheads together and basking in each other's presence)

#dreamling #the sandman #it's underappreciated how many red flags hob probably is buried under his amiable exterior #he looked at dream of the endless and went 'yeah'#not even as a 'i can make him better'#very much as a 'i can vibe with his current state and frankly even if he was worse i'd still be like that's my husband [shrug emoji]'#'what am i supposed to do? i knew who he was when i married him'#everybody around them: [extremely done with their shit] STOP ENABLING HIM #hob: he's my goth sweetheart #dream's entire family: he's ten sulking cats in eyeliner and a dramatic coat #hob: i know :D i love him!#johanna constantine is like 'hob's insane'#and everybody's going 'oh no don't be so mean he's just a little boring next to dream'#johanna: he saw dream being dream and went 'i need to stamp my name on him. how do i permanently tie us together'#johanna: he'd never safety pin a condom but i can just see the gears turning in hob's head about how to get to spend more time with dream #johanna: just radiating smug contentment over his insane wet cat #hob: i cannot wait to spend the next 60 years with that man #hob: and ideally die in our sleep together still holding hands #death and johanna: [staring at him over their fourth round of drinks]#dream: [heart of eyes and pink of cheeks]#dream: we should never not be holding hands #hob: okay but what if occasionally we stop holding hands just to then appreciate the feeling of starting to hold hands again #dream: [mulling] acceptable #death and johanna could probably start an entire benefriends or actual romantic relationship entirely based on judging dreamling

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mattsonly · 26 days

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Too innocent

Summary: in which, Matt finds pictures of who he thought was his innocent best friend, in unexpected positions...

Warnings: male masturbation, oral m!recieving, porn with very little plot, piv, unprotected sex, innocence & corruption kink, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my very first fic (on tumblr anyways) so i am hoping it meets standards!! also, this came to me in a dream and i am a SUCKER for innocent!reader so i just had to ;)

You had always been the sweet, soft and gentle spoken type, never so much as uttering a curse word, even to your closest friends. This exterior had, however; earned you a nickname with your bestfriend. Angel. Which, inevitably, had your cheeks warm and tinted in a furious pink everytime.

Matt only called you it to tease, thriving in pride whenever he saw your rosy dusted face each time he uttered the pet name. It was fitting, he thought. You were the embodiment of purity.

Said fact (which he was now debating) occupated his mind as his jaw went slack, knuckles white and gripping desperately on the polaroid pictures he had found in your bedside drawer, as if you were going to storm in and snatch them away.

Even if you had, they had already worked effectively as his pants suddenly felt awfully tight, on the border of painful.

Matt would've been slightly less shocked if there were perhaps only one snapshot of your naked (or almost so) body, he could've excused it as curiosity. But, with atleast 15 different printed pictures in hand with evidently different time stamps, this wasn't just curiosity.

This was deceit, he felt lied to. He wasn't mad about his curious discovery, though. But how he desperately wished this oppurtunity had presented itself sooner. The lack of time had suddenly dawned on Matt, realising if he desired the relief that was pent up in his sweats, he had to act fast.

Tugging them down eagerly, lifting his pink shirt and stuffing the hem into his mouth, biting down in it in attempt to conceal any inevitable moans that were surely to spill out. He was impressed at how he didn't do so already when he first saw the polaroids, his dedication to not get caught evidently overpowering.

Matt loosened his grip on the photos, in order to switch between which one was on top of the pile. His mind was racing with borderline filthy thoughts of all the positions you were in, and how he would destroy you in every one. Palming his now throbbing cock through the thin material of his boxers, his head threw back with the pictures above his face, to remain in constant eyeline.

One, was a picture of you in only a thin thong, knelt on your bed pointing the camera to the mirror behind, a clearshot view of your ass propped up on your heels had Matt salivating onto the thin material of his shirt he had formely stuffed in his mouth. Another was of you bent over your bathroom counter, adorning nothing on your body, showing your bare arched back and the slope of your ass, with your tits in slight view in the bottom right corner, as well as your collarbones. And the final one of the bunch that had definitely caught Matt's attention, was the only one of all that showed your face.

Your smile in the polaroid was the same one Matt had seen multiple times, only having mistaken it for one of entire innocence. Though nothing about the smile was different, Matt felt this one was taken in an entire different light. Your hair was damp and loose over your shoulders, water trickling down your body from the shower head above you, suds of soap scattering your bare chest which was in plain view. This one was by far his favourite, the look in your eyes, the image of your plush tits practically begging for attention infront of his eyes, your sweet yet somehow seductive smile.

All had him weak, pathetically palming himself through his boxers, continuous groans falling from his flushed lips and vibrating off the material of his shirt on his tongue.

He imagined vividly all the things he could and wished to do to you, have you sat on his lap like in the first picture, riding his fingers to the point of overstimulated tears, your innocent eyes glassy and lips pouted in a whine. Even so, he'd have you begging for more, rutting eagerly against his hand and chasing your... 5th? 6th? orgasm. You both lost count, far too caught up in the sensual moment.

He'd bend you over the bathroom counter, just like the second picture, his palm flat on the bottom of your back and pushing your torso against the cool marble surface. With your nipples now perked up and on full display for him, how could you expect him to resist grabbing one of your tits as he pounds into you infront of the mirror, his unoccupied hand tangling in your hair and pulling your head back to see your fucked out face. He imagined that, your swollen lip between your teeth, mascara running down the apples of your flushed cheeks which only fuelled the eager slamming of his cock inside you.

The last one... his personal favourite, Matt practically whimpered upon sight of it, wanting desperately to go beneath the restraints of his boxers and pump his dick furiously, with the firing desire the photos built up inside him, but he refrained, settling for simply working above the thin material. That way, he assumed it would maintain some form of respect for his oh so innocent best friend. Undeniably, this was wrong. He had snooped and stumbled upon these on his own accord, you hadn't left them out.

Which is why he knew how perverted and filthy the situation was, but that didnt stop the movement of his palm over his sensitivity, nor the moan of your name, muffled by his shirt. Nor the dip of the mattress near his feet.

You smiled up at him as he stared at you, dumbfounded. With his hand covering his almost bare cock, shirt in his mouth, and your private polaroids in clutch. Not many excuses could be made. Instead, he released his shirt from between his teeth, furrowing an eyebrow while maintaining eye contact. "Well?" the one worded sentence, despite so little content, spoke a million words. He was asking whether you were willing to break the boundary. Whether you were as filthy as the pictures made you seem.

Whether you were going to help him in his.. predicament.

All at once.

The soft touch of your hand could be felt atop his, the very same that was palming himself only 10 seconds ago, gently sliding his own hand off and replacing it with your own.

Matt felt that, maybe.. just maybe, your innocent demeanor hadn't been false. If he hadn't had proof against that, the feather-light touches of your hand brushing over his sensitive tip and the way you had ever-so-softly asked "is this okay?" would've swayed his mind that you truly were the embodiment of an angel.

His head nods quickly and almost instantly his aching dick was finally released, your hands tugging the waistband down to his thighs, looking up at Matt as you land soft kisses to the ruddy tip still feigning innocence. Innocence that he oh so wants to destroy. Matt wants to see the sweet girl wither away beneath him under the influence of his dick, he wants to be the cause of your corruption.

The sensation of your lips engulfing the head of his cock was barely enough to snap him out of his perverse thoughts, though it succeeded. Eliciting a pent up groan from the back of his throat, one that was long longg overdue. Along side Matt's mind being blurred from pure lust and ecstasy as you took him expertly in your throat, managing to fit almost all of it in bar an inch or two, he also had a fuzzy feeling from the relief of finally having you like this, finally feeling the sensual touch that he had longed for from a distance ever since you traded baggy shirts for tube tops.

Despite the impending release building in his abdomen, Matt tugged perhaps a little too eagerly on your hair, completely disconnecting your mouth from where he needed you most. The sight was one that had a borderline pornographic moan fall from his lips. Yours, were red and coated in a thin sheen of saliva that fell slightly onto your chin, your cheeks warm and tinged red and eyes watery from supressing the continuous gags threatening to escape your throat each time his tip grazed the back of it. Yet you were smiling, that damned smile that had him fooled, leading him to believe his dirty scenarios concocted in his mind truly were barbaric, because you were far too innocent for that.

Matt used your makeshift ponytail as a guide, pulling you up by your hair, releasing his strong grip after you were situated up on your knees, instead pulling your forward by a stern hand on your hip. "Need you so bad angel, gotta feel you around me" his words came out in a slurred yet attractive murmur, voice raspy from the sounds elicited from his throat.

He shouldn't have been shocked that his sentence had you pulling your shirt over your head, contrasting who he thought you were for years. He shouldn't have been shocked, but he was. Shocked that despite revealing your bare chest to him, and situating yourself atop his hips, your face still looked so angelic and pure, and it undeniably turned Matt on to no end.

As if upon animalistic instinct, he grabbed your hips on either side, flipping you over and consequently groaning at the soft whimper that left your plush lips as your head met the pillow. Matt was addicted to you. The sight, sound, and he was beyond curious upon the taste. You knew the power you held over Matt, you knew that you were practically lurring him in like a sailor to a siren, and you knew you needed him... biblically. Leaning up, connecting the two pairs of eager lips, clashing and dancing together as if choreographed. Messy, yet sweet. Soft, yet passionate.

"Matt..please, please touch me" your begs and whines sounded pathetic, but fueled the burning desire bubbling in the boy's abdomen, which was apparent from the groan that vibrated against your collarbone from where his mouth was connected, sucking a purple mark on the fleshy bone.

Matt's hand had a mind of its own, as if not concious yet all too concious of the fact it was now trailing down your torso, teasing the soft skin of your inner thighs beneath your skirt, barely grazing your clit as a teasingly slow finger moves around your clothed cunt. Despite the touch being nowhere near enough to what you wanted, it managed to have your hips bucking up, rutting into the brunette's palm eagerly. "Matt.. don't tease.." You begged again, earning a sharp slap to your slick centre which had a mix between a moan and whimper escape your lips.

"Don't tease? Baby.. you were the one taking those filthy pictures, did you want me to see them? acted like a slut for your best friend to find.. so naughty" He tutted, with a stern shake of his head which had tears welling in your waterline and lips pouting. "Aw baby, don't cry.. i'll give it to ya. 'Y so desperate, needy little slut" what was meant to ease your mood, only had the salty drops falling down your cheeks, sniffling and feigning innocence. Matt saw straight through your act, unfooled by your antics, instead incredibly turned on by the trails of tears down your face.

Being equally as desperate and unwilling to tease himself in the process of teasing you, a small smile formed on your lips at the feeling of his smooth tip against your entrance, not yet intruding instead resting in place and looking in your eyes for an all clear sign. Despite wanting to absolutely destroy you, stripping you of any innocene that wasn't an act, he'd much rather do that knowing you wanted it too.

Expectedly, you did. Almost making Matt sigh in relief as he slowly pushed himself inside your warm opening, your walls immediately hugging his dick tightly and eliciting a gasp from not only him, but you from the comfortable and delicious stretch. With leverage on his arms, because of your strong grip on his bicep, his movements began and instantly created a rhythm that had you both groaning in bliss. Cresent moon shaped indents littered Matt's bicep, allerting him of your pleasure as his pace picked up, rutting into you almost ruthlessly.

The unrelenting, harsh yet oh so blissful pace of his hips rocking into yours entirely contradicted the intimacy of the moment and the pure adoration in the boy's eyes. With your most intimate parts connected, practically the same person in the moment, nothing but love was clear in his cerulean irises and the harsh slam of his dick inside you managed to feel like gentle kisses.

Both of you were aware that despite one another's desperation to finally cum, love hung heavy in the room, swarming the air around them and engulfing them entirely, amplifying the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your back arched, your chest very nearly flush against Matt's as your eyes screw shut, your soft walls pulsating around the brunette's length. "Matt! Matt! 'm so close.. so so close!" attempted words left your lips, yet only hitting Matt's ears as incoherent babbles, making him chuckle darkly and take a hand to where your bodies' are connected, swiftly rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit with fevor, his other hand gripling the headboard as echoes of his own pleasure bounced off the walls, almost definitely alerting anyone of the activity in the room.

With the added sensation, the tightness in your stomach unwound, hitting you like a tonne of bricks as your legs shake, and strings of inaudible praises and gratitude vibrate against the walls. The pulsating of your soft walls engulfing him was enough to push Matt over edge, his hips stuttering and dick twitching, a broken whine echoing from his lips as he bites down harshly on your neck. A mantra of "fuck, fuck.. oh god" being the only words capable of being uttered due to the overwhelming ecstasy.

A warm smile occupied your cheeks. smiling up at Matt as he rode out his high, mouth agape and hair messy. voice broken and eyes boring directly into you.

With a shaky exhale, he smiled too, finally having you exactly as he wanted to.

a/n 2: soo i was gonna write aftercare for this too but i felt i already dragged it so nopeeee!!

@mattsenthusiast

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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