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zepskies · 2 days

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Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile.

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied.

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest.

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out.

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go.

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism.

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting.

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile.

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.”

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own.

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given.

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool.

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room.

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him.

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through.

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door.

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said.

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.)

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already.

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night.

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness.

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family.

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before.

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public.

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door.

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled.

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag.

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile.

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool.

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said.

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool.

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks.

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow.

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said.

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand.

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you.

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about.

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.”

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man.

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear.

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding.

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage.

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention.

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt.

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.”

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off.

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck.

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear.

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm.

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family.

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm.

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go.

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth.

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms.

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him.

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning.

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed.

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing.

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment.

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile.

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours.

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry.

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked.

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you.

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand.

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.”

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said.

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head.

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself.

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said.

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled.

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror.

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement.

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind.

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly.

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while.

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche.

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind.

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked.

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks.

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him.

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast.

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex.

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now.

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead.

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water.

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts.

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was.

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand.

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body.

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit.

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone.

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him.

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls.

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss.

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked.

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever.

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants.

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss.

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light.

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow.

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone.

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job.

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started.

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

(Also, just to let you know, this sequel story might be made into a podfic, so stay tuned if that interests you!)

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Smoke Eater Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Series Tag List (Part 1):

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@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

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celtic-crossbow · 3 days

Text

So Hear My Voice Remind You Not to Bleed

Pairing: Daryl Dixon and Fem!Reader (pre-relationship)

Setting: Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Injuries; angst

Summary: You're injured and benched, unable to go with Daryl on runs. When someone else is brought in to take your place, it does not go well.

A/N: for @darylsgarden. I had mixed feelings about this and had a couple of wonderful friends ( thank you @shadowcitrine and @enlightndone!🩵) read it and help me out. I hope it's at least close to what you were looking for 🩵

“It doesn’t even hurt.”

“Uh huh.” Daryl stopped preparing his bag and stepped across the living room, beckoning you with a wave of his hand. “Then walk over here without limpin’.” You narrowed your eyes and pushed yourself up off the couch, setting your jaw.

You didn’t even make it a single step before falling forward with a choked off shout.

And, of course, he was there to catch you as you crumbled.

“Thought so.” He said with a hint of a smirk, depositing you back onto the couch. “Doc said ya gotta stay off’a it a couple’a weeks an’ that’s whatcha gonna do.” You whined and flopped around like a fish out of water. “Stop.” He chuckled, grabbing his bag. “Got paired up with someone who just got here ‘til ya get better.”

You stilled, brow creasing. “You got a new partner. Who said? Rick?”

Daryl continued to shoulder his bag, then his crossbow. “Deanna.” Why would Deanna step in? “Said she needs to see what the woman can do to help. She’s s’posed to be good with a bow but I dunno.”

Woman? Bow? You already didn’t like this suggestion. “Oh.” It was all you could think of to say. You didn’t want him to go before when you thought he was going out alone. Now that you knew he was going with a strange woman, you really didn’t want him to go. But why? Daryl was your best friend. You didn’t have any say in his comings and goings, and why should you?

A knock on your door startled you out of your thoughts, Daryl watching you with a flat expression.

“Guess that’s her. See ya.” He started toward the door, and you found yourself leaning nearly off the couch to see who was on the other side. When he opened it, your breath caught.

Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, a bow and quiver somehow anchored to her back. She was almost as tall as Daryl, lean and curvy in all the right places. Shit. She was gorgeous.

“Uh, bye.” You muttered. Daryl didn’t even regard you. Maybe he hadn’t heard. Or maybe he was too busy ogling the beautiful woman in front of him. You couldn’t tell from his position. What you could see was the woman giving your run partner an appreciative once over before smiling.

“Hey! You must be Daryl. I’m Angie.” She held out a hand, which the archer ignored with a grunt, pushing his way past her to walk to his bike. He was taking the bike? You sighed. You weren’t supposed to care. Daryl was your friend. Not your—he was your friend.

And you just kept telling yourself that.

Even a week later, when you were able to be up and about but not without difficulty, things felt—different. Daryl was always gone with Angie, like he was at that very moment. Now that you could actually move, you went about slowly cleaning up the house the two of you shared and started making something for dinner. You could leave Daryl’s in the oven for him to eat later.

You had just finished your own when you heard the roar of the bike, saw the headlights illuminate the walls inside the dining room window, sending the shadows scattering. You found yourself excited to see him, to show him you were mobile. Hobbling over to the window, you felt silly for the ridiculous smile splitting your face but you didn’t feel that way for long.

Angie was standing in front of Daryl at the bike, her bow in her hand at her side. He had already unlatched his crossbow from the back of the bike and had it across his back. She was smiling brightly with her perfect teeth and small creases next to her bright blue eyes, looking every bit like a model in the middle of the apocalypse. And Daryl—his lips were turned up on one side, a very Daryl smile that he gave when he was relaxed and in a good mood.

You had known the man since the quarry and it had taken months to earn that smile. Angie was getting it in less than a week?

You should have turned away. Spying on them wasn’t right. Daryl wouldn’t be pleased if he caught you, no matter what he was doing. He never liked feeling as though he was being watched too closely.

You should have turned away but you didn’t.

And then you wished you had.

Angie reached out as she spoke, her words muffled and distorted through the glass. Her long, slender fingers wrapped around his bicep and squeezed, her thumb stroking the skin there. Daryl glanced at her hand but that was it. He didn’t ask her to remove it, didn’t step back to increase the distance between them.

You didn’t want to admit that you were jealous. Even as your mind and heart both screamed only I can touch him that way—for two entirely different reasons—you refused to grant it a name.

You couldn’t take anymore, limped away from the window and climbed the stairs with more than a few whimpers of pain. Daryl would usually help you to your room at night and back down in the mornings. But you didn’t want to see him, felt an anger toward him that was just as confusing as it was unjustified. You felt the same anger toward Angie, a woman you knew nothing about beyond the things Daryl would tell you.

And he didn’t tell you a lot.

You still should have been happy that Daryl both wanted to share something with you and that he had found someone that seemed to make him happy enough to gab about them, limited as it was.

But you weren’t happy.

It hurt. You hurt. Your heart felt constricted, wrapped in a cord that would tighten with each breath, faster and faster with each moment you spent thinking of him just outside, smiling at her.

She didn’t deserve his smile.

She hadn’t been there when Merle was left behind in Atlanta. She hadn’t been there when Sophia went missing and Daryl ran himself ragged trying to find her. She wasn’t the one to care for him after he’d fallen and was shot. She hadn’t been the one whose arms he’d finally chosen to let hold him when Merle died. She hadn’t run to him and felt his relief at being reunited after Terminus. She hadn’t walked along with him and coaxed him to drink just enough water to stay alive on the road. And she damn sure hadn’t stood up and told everyone he needed his own place in Alexandria so he wouldn’t feel more trapped than the gates already made him feel.

That had been you. Always you.

The door opened and closed downstairs, your name being called. You could hear the concern, knew it would be there at not finding you downstairs. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed—your back to the door—and just listened. Daryl methodically looked around, his voice carrying from different rooms throughout his search. Your room would be last because it would be the last place he’d think of you being. Not without his help.

The oven door opened and closed, too quickly for him to grab the food. He was checking to make sure you had been there. Likely spotted your used dishes as well. You barely heard his boots on the stairs. Daryl, for all his height and muscle, moved like a spirit. Still, you knew his gait, what to listen for that signaled his approach.

You drew up the comforter just as the soft knock came and a quiet call of Y/N? that you decided to not answer. The light from downstairs was pale in your room, starting on the floor and soon bathing your bed and walls. He didn’t say anything, simply closed the door and descended the stairs just as quietly.

And somehow, that’s what made the tears come.

There were two days of tense air in the house before Daryl’s next run. Your ankle had improved but you were still unable to put weight on it. Denise advised you to stay off of it but you had waved her off with a yeah yeah, absolutely zero intention of heeding her advice.

When you arrived at your home, Angie was already leaning against Daryl’s bike like she belonged there. The sight infuriated you. Your attempt to pass her by was quickly foiled by the woman herself, her hand coming up to tap a finger on your shoulder.

“It’s Y/N, right?”

Sighing, you turned, sitting your bad foot up on the toe of your boot to keep the pressure from taking you down. “Yeah.”

“I’ve been dying to meet you. Daryl’s told me a lot about you.”

“Funny. He hasn’t told me much about you.” She didn’t seem fazed. I’m glad he’s so chatty with you. “Nice to meet you.” You said in place of your inner monologue. “Excuse me.” You started to turn when she stood straight.

“Hey, uh—I was just wondering. Are you and him a thing?” She flipped her hair—braided today—over her shoulder.

“A thing?” You knew exactly what she meant, but feigned ignorance. It was not a conversation you wanted to have.

“Yeah, you know—a couple.”

Closing your eyes, you inhaled through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “No. Why?” You didn’t even realize you had clenched your fists until her eyes flitted down and back up, forcing you to relax lest she tell Daryl you were being hostile toward her.

“No reason. He’s a great guy, isn’t he? Handsome too.” Now she was just trying to push your buttons.

“Yeah. The best, actually.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. “Don’t hurt him.” You said flatly—a clear warning—and limped your way up the steps and inside.

“Where ya been?” Daryl’s voice greeted you before the door had even closed. He was on the couch, lacing up his boots. You regarded him silently for a moment, allowing Angie’s words to sink in before setting your jaw and squaring your shoulders.

“I’m going with you today.”

His hands stilled, frozen for a moment before he sat back a little and placed his forearms over his knees. Piercing blue eyes scanned over you before settling on your bum ankle, the urge to place your foot flat on the floor too intense to disregard. “Nah. Y’ain’t ready.”

“You don’t get to make that call.” You snapped, more harshly than you had intended, but it got your point across. His eyes narrowed, his own jaw tightening.

“Maybe not, but I do get to say who goes with me an’ it ain’t you. Not today.” The archer went back to his boots while you gaped at him, lacing the right one up before getting to his feet and grabbing his things.

“Why not? Because suddenly Angie is better than me?”

Daryl scoffed. “Stop.” He went for the door, opening it a couple of inches before your palm landed flat against the surface and shoved it closed. “The hell ya doin’?!”

“I won't stop.” You mocked, drawing your lips back in a snarl. “You’ve been up her ass since you met her. Hardly ever here and when you are, you don’t even talk to me.”

“The fuck you on ‘bout? We go on runs, get the things people need. Ya forget food an’ meds ain’t just down at the convenience store anymore, Y/N?” He pulled the door open again, and again, you pushed it shut. “Let go.” His voice had dropped into that serious tone, the warning before the anger.

“No. I’m going with you. I’ll let you open this door when you agree to that.” You stood straighter, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off the whimper when you dared place your weight on the healing ankle. Of course, Daryl and his hyper awareness caught it.

“Guess it ain’t openin’ cause y’ain’t goin’.” He tried once more with the same result, this time letting his burdens fall to the floor in order to face you, nearly nose to nose. “Alright, ya got my attention.” He growled. It had been so long since he had spoken to you with such enmity, you couldn’t suppress a jarring flinch.

Swallowing hard, you attempted to control the wobbling of your bottom lip. “Please, take me with you.”

“How many times I gotta say no?! Y’need to take your ass to that couch an’ let your damn ankle heal ‘fore I even think ‘bout lettin’ back out there.”

“Daryl.”

“No, Y/N.”

With a deep breath through your nose, you stepped backward, freeing up the space. “Fine. But maybe you should stay with Carol for a while when you get back.” Giving him your back, you didn’t bother to hide the limp.

“Y’don’t mean that.”

You needed to force yourself to keep walking when you heard the dejection in his tone. “I do.” You didn’t. “I don’t need you here.” You did.

“Y/N—”

“Angie’s waiting.” You detoured at the last second and veered into the kitchen, seeing him from the corner of your eye, his hand lowering as if he had been reaching for you. Your heart was beating in your ankle by the time you were leaning heavily against the countertop.

When the door closed, the floodgates opened.

Two days. Daryl and Angie had been gone for two days. It wasn’t anything new to be held up on a run, but there were always close calls involved and you couldn’t imagine Daryl battling his way through herds or humans without you at his side. The two of you predicted one another’s movements, flowing and fighting together like a well oiled machine, always ending up victorious and on your way home.

Did he have that with her now?

“You know it’s not like that with the two of them, right?” Carol looked up from beneath her lashes as she chopped up the herbs and available vegetables for the stew. You knew it was more of an admonishing statement and not entirely a question.

“I don’t know that and neither do you.” You replied bitterly before tipping your glass to your lips. Carol smiled, that suspicious grin like she knew something you didn’t.

“I know Daryl.” She picked up the cutting board and used the knife to scrape the occupying ingredients into the pot. “Why does it bother you so much anyway?”

“He’s my best friend.” The answer came out a little too quickly.

The other woman chuckled. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” You countered almost gibingly. She only spared you an arched brow before turning to place the pot on the stove. You decided to ignore the intensely foreign fluttering in your chest and began spinning the glass between your palms. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“I—”

The knock at the door was sudden and urgent, repeating after only a few heartbeats. Your questioning expression met Carol’s. Spinning on the island stool, you eyed the door until it was opened. Carol’s hand on the edge tightened until her knuckles were white, but you could only make out quiet words and someone’s heavy breaths. Hobbling from your perch, you grabbed the door and pulled it back further.

Angie was a mess, covered in dirt and blood and walker innards. “Y/N.” She panted.

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. “Where’s Daryl?” You didn’t remember ducking beneath Carol’s arm or pushing past Angie. The pain in your ankle became a mere afterthought as you walked backwards toward the steps, awaiting information.

“He’s in the infirmary. He’s asking for you.”

You didn’t wait, running with only the slightest hitch in your step. Daryl was more important than any amount of discomfort. Your mind was running rampant with scenarios. What if he was bit? Dying? What if he died before you made it to him? The last thing you had said to him was that you didn’t need him.

And it was such a lie.

“Y/N, wait!”

You tried to ignore her, the infirmary within sight. You needed to get to him so that you could breathe again.

When her hand caught your shoulder, you reacted almost violently, throwing her away from you and almost to the dirt. “What?!” You bellowed. “What could possibly be more important than Daryl right now?!”

“Lana is!” She answered quickly. “My Lana!” Breathing heavily, you shook your head and threw out your arms, a silent but gestured question. “My wife.”

You felt like the wind had been punched right out of you. “Your—your wife?” Damn you, Carol!

“Yeah. I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

“You’re telling me.” You muttered, looking toward the infirmary with an expression of remorseful longing.

“I asked those questions because—because that man is so obviously head over heels for you that it’s absurd he hasn’t made a move. I thought maybe—maybe I could push things along.” She rubbed at the back of her neck, her eyes brightening at something she saw just over your other shoulder. When you turned, a dark haired woman was making her way over, a toddler on her hip. “I just—he’s not much of a talker—until I mention you.” Another glance at the other woman. “I’m sorry.”

When she started to leave, you reached out a hand, the new information still pinballing around in your head. “I’m sorry.” You had treated her—thought of her—so unfairly, and still, she smiled at you.

“Go on. He’s waiting for you.” And then she was walking away to kiss her wife before converting to a motherly gentleness, her lips pressed to her son’s forehead.

God, you were an asshole.

To her.

To Daryl.

Your ankle only received a moment to remind you it was still weak before you continued your journey to the infirmary.

“M’fine! Quit proddin’ at me!”

The sound of his voice gave your heart permission to beat again. You stood at the door, listening to him argue with Denise until the woman finally gave up with a huff and a clang of metal. Opening the screen door, you limped inside with a hiss, the adrenaline draining out of you, no longer blanketing the pain. You would definitely be set back a week or so after this.

Daryl was on the exam table, filthy and cut up, shirt open and left foot propped up on a pillow. You could have laughed at the irony if you weren’t so relieved at seeing him there and breathing and whole. Alive.

His ranting came to an abrupt halt when he noticed you in the doorway, eyes softening. His entire body seemed to visibly relax with an audible exhale.

“Y/N.”

You didn’t even try to control your quivering lip this time and rushed to cross the distance even with Denise scolding you in the background.

Your arms wound around his neck and his around your back. “Daryl. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it—I didn’t—”

“S’fine. Know ya didn’t.” He whispered against your temple. Denise cleared her throat behind you and the weight of one of Daryl’s hands disappeared before returning with renewed pressure. The sound of the door opening and closing signaled that he had—in one way or another—told Denise to get lost. Neither of you spoke until you pressed your face into the side of his neck and began to sob. “Hey, m’okay. Just fell on my ass.”

“How?” You sniffled.

“Window was in my way.”

You laughed wetly, his shoulders bouncing with a breathy chuckle of his own.

“Idiot.” You chided, pulling away to wipe at your eyes. He watched you gather your bearings, blue eyes dancing between yours. “Are you really okay?”

“Yeah.” His hand was so gentle against your face, thumb sweeping over your cheek to wipe away the tears. “Need to talk to ya ‘bout Angie.”

You shook your head but placed your hand upon his so that he didn’t dare move it. “She beat you to it. I’m so sorry. I was being a jealous asshole.” He tilted his head and squinted.

“Jealous cause I was spendin’ so much time ‘round her?” It was like he knew the answer that you hadn’t quite accepted as truth yourself.

“Among other things.” You rubbed your lips together and ducked your head. Daryl hummed in question, his hand sliding down to your jaw, thumb absently stroking across your bottom lip. Your voice instantly decided to become lost in your throat, your mouth opening when his hand fell away. “Daryl, I—” You almost bolted, felt the insane urge to run begin to vibrate throughout your legs from a nervous twitch that started in your stomach and spread throughout your chest.

“That man is so obviously head over heels for you—”

Your lips were on his before your brain had even fully given the order for you to move, likely startling you just as much as it had him—if the sharp inhale through his nose was anything to go by. So, you stayed there, frozen with your mouth against his, neither of you moving until it was so awkward that you thought more than once of how great it would be for the earth to open up and swallow you. Humiliation coloring your cheeks, you began to pull away—and then his mouth moved over yours, his warm palm coming to rest on the side of your neck. Brilliant as you were, you pulled back in shock, wide eyes blinking at him. Cerulean pools were shimmering with horror and shame.

“That bad, huh?” He asked, dropping his hand and picking at a patch of dry skin on his palm. His eyes lowered to follow the movement.

“No!” You blurted. Daryl actually flinched and reeled back. “No, no. It wasn’t—there’s no way it could be—ah, fuck it.” Your hands cupped either side of his face, pulling him to meet you in the middle. There was no hesitance on either side, mouths moving, tongues dancing, a delicate exploration of new territory, both literally and figuratively. His hands settled on your ribs, fingers flexing, trying to pull you closer when there was already so little space between you.

When you parted, it wasn’t from a lack of oxygen, but from Daryl attempting to alter the angle, forgetting that you were no longer alone in the land of bum ankles.

“Ow, ow, ow!”

You pulled away and jumped back, hands in the air to ensure he knew that you were no longer touching him—as if he weren’t already missing it. “What? What happened?”

“Ankle.” He hissed, gingerly placing his foot back on the pillow. Once the pain had ebbed, he chuckled and beckoned you back over with a wave. “Looks like we’ll both be trapped at home, sunshine.”

“There are worse things.” You brushed a strand of hair away from his face. “We have to talk about this.” You knew you sounded scared, and you were. Everything had just changed in the blink of an eye, the man you knew as your best friend had just suddenly become more, and it was terrifyingly exciting.

“Yeah, I know. Couch ain’t big enough for both’a our lame asses.”

You giggled and shook your head. “Guess it’s off to Carol’s extra bedroom.” When he arched a dark brow, you etched the most serious expression you could summon onto your face. “Strictly for logical reasoning, Mr. Dixon. We can’t climb stairs. She has one bedroom on the first floor. Lecher.”

“First time I been called that.” He gave you that smile, the one that was so special, and seeing it then, you realized that he hadn’t given Angie that smile at all. It was yours and yours alone.

And you’d need to thank the gorgeous woman with the bow.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

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sickslimez · 2 days

Text

STILL IN LOVE! #4 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

The sun peeked through your bedroom curtains, casting a small ray of light on the ground. The room was quiet, only the sound of breathing filled the room. With your eyes still shut, you began to awake, squirming around under the sheets and cuddling against whatever was making you warm. Your eyes fluttered open only to be met with a bare chest. A lazy smile spread across your face remembering the events of last night. A small groan left your lips when you fully awoke, looking to see that Nanami was still sound asleep, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

You ran your hand down his chest, both of you still naked under the covers. You let out a small chuckle, craning your head to place wet kisses against his neck, throwing your leg over his. Both of your clothes were scattered all over the house, only making it to the bedroom at the end of the night, fucking every where else. He groaned, “morning to you too, sweetheart.” He opened one eye to look at you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Good morning.” You smiled. His hand squeezed at the flesh of your ass before he reached over and pulled you on top of him, only resulting in you letting out a small yelp.

“Come here,” he stared up at you with half lidded eyes. Biting down on your bottom lip, you leaned down, his lips connecting to yours, kissing you slowly. “You were incredible last night, you know that?” He smiled against your lips.

“Yeah?” You giggled, pecking his lips again.

“Mmm, yeah.” He cupped your face in his hand, kissing you again. You moved your hips against his, rocking back and forth before he pulled away with a smirk. “Don’t be a tease, darling,” he warned in a playful tone.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, laying your head on his chest. You two shared a moment of silence, his hand resting on your lower back. “You know I’ve never had sex on the first date until last night,” you admitted, lifting your head to look at him.

“Well I guess we both have something in common then,” he grinned, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “To be fair, I was gonna walk away when you shut the door.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” You smirked, sitting up right again. “You up for some breakfast? It’s the least I could do for last night.”

“Of course,” he replied. You got off of him, walking to your closet to grab your silk robe, wrapping it around your body and tying it so it wouldn’t slip. “Just let me know when it’s ready, I’m still a bit sleepy.”

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, walking out of your bedroom and shutting the door behind you to find the mess you two left in the living room and kitchen. Your heels, his shoes, your dress and panties, his shirt and pants were in various places on the floor. Most of the time you’d hate a mess, but you were too busy thinking about why there was a mess in first place.

Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge to grab the eggs, sausages, butter, and pancake mix. You grabbed a bowl, pouring the powder in before mixing it with some water, stirring it until it was a mix between thick and runny consistency, the stove heating up with butter in the pan. Flashbacks of last night kept popping in your head, making you stop in your tracks, remembering the way his hand was wrapped around your throat.

A sudden ring at the doorbell pulled you from your thoughts. Your brows furrowed knowing that Shoko wasn’t dropping the kids off until later in the day. You turned the stove off, dusting your hands off on the rag on the counter, walking over to front door and unlocking it. There stood a familiar man, your ex husband, wearing a black hoodie and sweats like he had just rolled out of bed and came over here. Though you couldn’t say much considering you did the same five minutes ago.

When Toji arrived, he couldn’t help but realize that not only was your car in the driveway, but someone else’s too. Your date was still here. And whatever bullshit Gojo was spilling to him last night was true, he could tell from the thin robe you were wearing, obvious you had nothing underneath. “Hey, mama,” he spoke, voice still groggy from waking up.

“The kids are still at Shoko’s.” You went to close the door in his face only for him to stop it with his hand. Your eyes narrowed at him. “What is it, Toji?”

“Damn, I can’t get a ‘hi’ back?” He scoffed.

“From the way you pissed me off the other day, no. And now you’re ruining my morning. So, I’m gonna ask one last time, what is it?” You asked with an attitude, folding your arms across your chest.

“I need to talk to you,” he replied.

“I’m busy.” You tried to shut the door again, but his foot blocked the door. An annoyed sigh left your lips, followed by an eye roll.

“Doing what?” He bluntly asked.

“Why do you care?” You shrugged your shoulder at him.

“Your date is still here, huh? That’s why you’re not letting me in?” He scoffed with a smirk.

“Yeah, so what? I’m a grown woman with my own house, I can let anyone stay here if I like,” you retorted.

“You fuck him?” Toji clenched his jaw, heart beating in his chest. He doesn’t even know why he was asking, it was obvious.

“Are you serious right now?” You asked in disbelief, eyes widening.

“Answer the fucking question, I’m not playing around with you.” He had a serious expression in his face, eyes staring you down. If it were anyone else, they’d be scared, but you’ve dealt with Toji enough to know that he wouldn’t do a thing.

“It’s none of your goddamn business who I fuck! I don’t go asking you who you stick your dick in, do I? Leave me the fuck alone, Toji, I can’t stand your ass!” You began to raise your voice. Every time you and him argued, it reminded you of the reason why you two divorced in the first place. Sure, Toji was a great husband at times, a good dad, and he showed you love and adored you, not to mention the sex was great, but you couldn’t take the petty arguments. It grew tiring fighting with him every other day, either him or you starting it, yelling in front of the kids. You hated that. Megumi and Naya were always your first priority and to hear them crying, asking you to stop fighting broke your heart in pieces.

The marriage grew stale, the fights pulling you two apart from each other. He’d go out with his friends and drink beers all night instead of spending time with you, knowing that something would cause an argument and blow up. Countless nights, you were left alone, crying, thinking of all the things you could’ve done differently. You loved Toji so much, but it seemed like you two weren’t meant for each other. You still let him in your life because of the kids, and it was clear that tension was still there, leading to the nights of sex, sleepovers, and flirty comments. It wasn’t good, but you missed him, so you allowed it.

“So you did.” Toji nodded his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“Yeah, I did. Instead of worrying about me, worry about your fucking girlfriend, okay? Get your priorities straight—”

“Y/n?” The sound of Kento’s voice startled you as he walked into the living room, his boxer briefs on. You looked over your shoulder, glancing at him before looking back at Toji. “Everything okay?”

What you were afraid of was Toji pushing open the door and causing a scene. The look on his face said it all, it was like you could see the thoughts running through his head. “Everything is fine, let me talk to the mother of my kids!” Toji, surprisingly, called out from the other side of the door.

You shut your eyes in frustration, walking outside and shutting the door behind you. “I can speak for myself.” You glared at Toji.

“Just thought I’d let him know before you gave a bullshit excuse.” He blinked at you, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What is your problem?!” You yell in a whisper.

“I said I needed to talk to you!” Toji slightly yelled.

“I don’t want to fucking talk to you! Each time I do it turns out like this!” You motioned to him and yourself. “You make my life miserable!” You began to tear up, choking on your words as you tried not to cry. “You show up with your new girlfriend after you said how much you missed me, and how sorry you were! Coming over the house, sleeping over, sleeping in my bed! You made me think that we could’ve been something good again, you fucking asshole!” You pushed him, tears now streaming down your cheeks. Everything, from the frustration to your sadness and confusion, released.

“Mama, calm down.” Toji grabbed your wrist. It was starting to make sense why you were acting weird that night he told you he couldn’t take the kids. You were jealous, just scared to admit it.

“No! I hate you! I wish I never married you!” You tried to push him again.

“You don’t mean that.” Toji stared at you only to see your hateful gaze staring back at him. “Tell me you don’t mean that.” Your head dropped low as you cried. “Y/n.” He let go of your wrists. “Tell me you don’t fucking mean that.” Silence. “Listen, she isn’t my girlfriend, okay? She was just someone I was seeing. She didn’t mean shit to me.”

“So you brought our kids around your fuck buddy? God, can you get anymore worse?” You had a scowl on your face as you wiped your tears.

“She showed up to my house right before I dropped them off! I wouldn’t do that with the kids around, you know that!” Toji tried to explain, but he could see from the look in your eyes that you weren’t believing what he said, even if it was the truth. He brought his hands up to your face, cupping it gently. “I care about you, y/n. You were my fucking wife, my everything. You think I could just forget about that so easily?” His eyes searched yours only for you to push him away.

“Yet you still did it, all so you could go back to your old self before me.” You sniffled. “Just leave me alone, Toji. I don’t ever wanna see you again unless it involves Megumi and Naya.” You turned away from him, entering the house, trying your best to cover up your teary face.

“Y/n?” Nanami walked back into the living room to see you standing there.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that.” You wiped your eyes. He walked over to you, immediately taking notice of your red eyes and tear stained cheeks. Warm arms engulfed your frame, holding you tight against his chest. “It’s embarrassing.”

Nanami had no say in the situation, but he could tell it upset you. So, he settled on hugging you, embracing the silence. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Let’s sit down and relax before making breakfast.” He gently caressed your head.

Toji sat there in his car, running his hand through his hair. He took one last look at your door, something in him wishing you’d walk out before he drove off. He hated that he made you cry, only reminding him that he could never be good enough for you. He wishes he could. But you were right, he thought he could play two games at once, only to get himself confused and hurting you in the process.

Toji missed you, always came back to you, but had to remind himself that it wasn’t healthy for either of you to be together the way you were. It’s why he’s tried several time to move on, jumping from girl to girl but none of them were ever you. It’s why he came back, feeling most at home when he was around you and your two kids. It’s what he knew best. Now, you were moving on, just like he’s been trying to. It hurts, but it’s his karma and he has to live with it.

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wifeyoozi · 14 hours

Text

mingyu & wonwoo : Still stuffed, one shot, double kill

w.c : 3.1 k ┊ synopsis : boyfriends mingyu and wonwoo give their bestfriend more than you could have bargained for, but you are not complaining┊ content warning : smut , best friends to lovers sorta, bisexual threesome (m/m/f) , oral sex (f + m rec) , edging , hard dom (top) wonu + sub (bottom) gyu + sub reader , slight size kink , (idrk what its called but ig sandwich sex?) , anal (m rec) a/n : note that depiction of mingyu and wonwoo as bisexual is just for the entertainment of this fic and I do not intend to impose any sexuality on them irl. also I was absolutely wasted drunk when I wrote this so I don't even know just nasty threesome.

it was just another video game night with wonwoo and mingyu. it was at your house, like always, because you had a gaming system installed in your bedroom instead of the living room unlike wonwoo and mingyu's shared apartment. and all three of you agreed that the bed was more comfortable to spread out and sit on while gaming.

you yelped from the right side of the bed, having won yet another round (well, technically you came second, but at least you won against mingyu). the screen in front showed the game over slide once again. you sighed and got of the bed to stretch your libs a little.

"i'm getting more beer," you announced seeing all three of your cans empty already, "y'all need anything else?"

"some snacks would be great!" mingyu called out. you took the empty cans to dispose off and left the bedroom.

you, mingyu and wonwoo have been best friends forever. you and mingyu had been childhood friends since you were neighbours. you met wonwoo in highschool and decided immediately to make him part of your little gang. the friendship remained as solid as it could throughout school and college.

wonwoo and mingyu had started dating around last year after pinning over each other for almost 2 years until mingyu asked wonwoo out for a date finally and wonwoo agreed shyly. you knew both boys were in some part of the bisexual spectrum and them dating didn't change a thing in your friendship. you were happy for them and rooted for them all the time, but you'd lie if you were to say you weren't a little jealous. you just wished you had someone to take care of you the way they did of each other. of course, they took care of you almost as well as a boyfriend would, but its been so long since your last relationship that you need more than just care.

meanwhile, mingyu and wonwoo had started making out on your bed in your absence, kissing nastily with wet noises enveloping the room. "mingyu, stop, y/n is gonna come soon," wonwoo whisper yells when he felt mingyu's hand get frisky over his sweatpants.

"i can't help it baby. you're so hot, winning every round like that. you deserve some reward," mingyu argues and wonwoo can't the sound that escapes his throat when mingyu latches his mouth on his neck, "besides, its been so long, i can barely keep away from you."

wonwoo chuckle, "we fucked last night."

"my point, its so long already," mingyu said sucking a hickey on wonwoo's neck. they were too lost in their own world to notice the door opening.

"uhm, guys?" you didn't mean to interrupt them, but you were also not exactly sure what you were supposed to do seeing them make out like animals in heat on your bed. it was hot to see them frisky like that, you had never before seen them get like this, but you had to remind yourself that it was not appropriate to think of your two best friends like that.

"o-oh! y/n! we're so sorry-" wonwoo stumbled to say, pulling away from mingyu and adjusting his glasses back up.

you didn't exactly know how to react. for one, it was difficult to unsee the growing bulges in both boys' pants. it wont be very easy to continue the game again after having that image in your mind. the beer you have had has made you a little horny - its an effect alcohol seems to have on you always - and your hot gay bestfriends weren't making it easier for you.

"whatchu thinking 'bout?" mingyu asks in a more teasing tone, seeing you malfunctioning and just standing in your place like a broken machine, "thinking 'bout joining us?"

mingyu was smacked on his arm by his boyfriend, "gyu! be nicer!"

"what? its not the worst idea," mingyu says, rubbing the spot he'd been hit on, "i remember her mentioning her interest in threesomes last time we got drunk at joey's. besides, i know you find her really hot, you'd love it too, right? i see this as a win-win!"

"i-i never said that!"

"oh but your eyes say it all, baby. i've seen how you check out her ass all the time. i am not complaining, don't worry, i do find her really hot too." mingyu was smacked again.

"boys, boys! what are y'all talking about?" you were dumbfounded. wonwoo checks out your ass!? mingyu finds you hot!? that's some great information to digest. wonwoo and mingyu share glances, as if speaking more than that you can hear with their eyes alone

"say, y/n, i'm horny, nonu is horny, and you could join us if you like, no pressure, but we'd really make it worth your time," mingyu says, looking back at you.

"you don't have to if you don't want to. you could say no and we'd never speak of it again," wonwoo adds.

you think about it seriously. on one hand you were really arounsed and your bestfriends' bulging sizes against their respective pants were sending blood to your crotch and they just offered you for a threesome. then on the other hand, your conscience said it was morally wrong to do this.

fortunately for you and your throbbing pussy, you had just the right amount of alcohol in your system to put your morals aside.

"okay, what the hell," you mumble and jump on the bed between the two, pulling them both by the collar. mingyu giggles as he pins you down and connects his lips to yours instantly. you feel two pairs of hands exploring your body, feeling you up and messing with your clothes. mingyu ravishes your mouth with his tongue, kissing you wet and dirty.

you are surprised when wonwoo pushes aside mingyu's head to take his turn to kiss you. you whine into his mouth, feeling the sudden change. wonwoo can taste mingyu in your mouth still, and the mixed flavours with the taste of your mouth turn him on incredibly. if you thought mingyu was a dirty kisser, wonwoo was worse. his spit was all over the places as he kissed you hungrily and open-mouthedly, and you absolutely loved it.

it must be visible on your face because mingyu chuckled at you, already taking off his clothes, "i should warn you, y/n, wonwoo may look shy and innocent with his nerdy glasses, but he is a complete freak in bed. he is a literal sex monster."

you gasped at mingyu's words. wonwoo took the opportunity to stick his tongue deep down your throat, making you almost choke. then suddenly, it was gone. wonwoo pulled back from you, making you chase his lips, but he pushed you down. he sat up on the bed, taking off his t-shirt, making you whine as he did it all so slowly.

"mingyu, take off her clothes."

mingyu obeyed so. your shirt was pulled off you, your bra taken off at a speed that your think the clasps must've broken, and your shorts yanked off. you felt cold and exposed out in the air, so you tried to approach mingyu to kiss you again, heat your body with his again. but your hair was pulled, making you fall back on the bed with a gasp.

"did i say you could kiss him already?" wonwoo's eyes were dark, and you were scared of him in a hot way which made you want to obey everything he says like a little obedient slut. you were leaking so bad from his strong demeanor, you were sure they both could see the huge dark spot on your panties.

wonwoo leaned by your ears, and whispered softly, "if i make you uncomfortable with my words or action, you can tell me to stop, yeah?"

you nodded, but you didn't plan to. if anything, you wanted him to keep acting meaner to you. you didn't know you would be into being dominated like this until now.

wonwoo snaps at mingyu after that, "open her legs up, kiss her thighs." mingyu does just that, slowly spreading you knees apart and placing buttery wet kisses long your thighs, nearing to your core. you cannot make out if the sound he makes is a laugh or a moan against your soft thighs when he sees how wet you are.

wonwoo snakes his hand down to your breasts, grabbing one in each hand and slowly kneading the flesh. "take her panties off," wonwoo commands mingyu and he does so. "lick her up. she's making a mess, lick all her juices up."

mingyu licks a flat strip along your pussy, his tongue dipping into your folds. wonwoo helps him, reaches a hand to open your outer labia with two fingers, and properly gives mingyu access. mingyu licks a long strip from your slit to your clit and you let out loud whorish moans to let it be known how much you love this.

"squeeze his head with your thighs, he likes that," wonwoo tells you and you comply with him without even thinking. you press your thighs to mingyu's ears, enough to for him to feel the pressure but not so much you'd hurt him. but that's not what wonwoo wants. "more," he he tells you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head until, --

oh. mingyu moaned over your cunt, and you felt the vibrations. wonwoo smirked when he heard it too. he grabbed a hold of mingyu's short hair tightly and pushed his head deeper into your cunt. you understand now. mingyu likes being hurt like this. he likes being controlled by wonwoo. you couldn't hear what wonwoo said next, lost in the thoughts when you suddenly felt a tongue dart into your cunt, earning a choked moan from your lips.

wonwoo leaned down to kiss your nipples, sucking on them and licking them up like a hungry cat. your hands reached over his head, lacing your fingers through his soft hair. you were close already and both the boys could sense it from the way your moans got more erratic and your thighs trembled.

you were just about to reach your high when wonwoo grabbed mingyu's head and pushed him away from your cunt. a cry left your lips, your cunt spasming and clenching around nothing with all sensations gone. you felt tears filling up your eyes as wonwoo leaned down and kissed your lips.

"there, there. it wasn't that bad now, was it? i know a pretty girl like you can take better," wonwoo's words were comforting, as his hands rubbed circles on the side of your hips, but his tone was awfully teasing and it just made you want to cry harder.

wonwoo instructed mingyu to sit up on the bed against the headboard and got you on all fours in front of him so your face was to mingyu and ass to wonwoo who was preparing his dick behind you. mingyu's dick was red and hard against his belly, but he wouldn't dare touch it without wonwoo's instructions. mingyu and wonwoo were a little similar in sizes, you noticed (and it made your mouth salivate), except mingyu was thicker than wonwoo and the latter was longer.

it was more so of a punishment for you too, to just watch his painfully erect dick and not put it in your mouth. hell, you couldn't even kiss his pretty pink pouty lips until wonwoo said you could. you had only spent twenty minutes with wonwoo and mingyu in bed, but you already knew the rules of this game. you knew wonwoo was in charge of everything and you should obey everything he says, otherwise the consequences could be harsh. and that turned you on incredibly.

wonwoo played with his dick, sliding along the length of your slit, teasing you. "wonu, please," you whimpered needily.

"hm? did you say something?" wonwoo said in a fake tone, landing a smack on your ass, only to rub the spot soothingly soon after, "its difficult to hear with this beautiful pussy in front of my eyes."

you whined again, tears falling down your cheeks. mingyu was smirking at you, as if he was in any better position than you with his throbing untouched dick.

"daddy, please, fuck me," you whimpered at wonwoo.

the latter chuckled, slowly pushing his head into your cunt, already prepped and stretched by mingyu's tongue before. "shit, you're so fucking needy. just a needy little slut, arent you? don't worry, i'll fill your pussy up."

he set a high speed for you. you gasp and almost fall face-flat on the bed, only to be held up by mingyu. mingyu's other hand clutched the sheets, trying his best not to lose control. he liked being a good boy for wonwoo. the rough punishment-fuck was good, yes, but he loved the way wonwoo praised him and rewarded him better. besides, he had to be a good role model for you.

wonwoo could see the desperation on his boyfriend's face, and chuckled, deciding he deserved a treat. "mingyu has been a really good boy, don't you think, y/n? why don't you blow his dick, hm?"

wonwoo pushed your head down till your mouth was on mingyu's dick. you licked a long strip lengthwise on his erection, testing and teasing. mingyu let out a guttarial moan and you took his dick inside your mouth as far as it could go. wonwoo wasn't satisfied with your mediocre efforts, and pushed your head till you swallowed all of mingyu.

you forced your gag reflexes to relax as mingyu's head hit the back of your throat. with wonwoo's relentless speed, your head bobbed over mingyu's dick from inertia alone, not having to do a lot of work. mingyu's thighs started convulsing soon and both of you were near to your edge already. you thought if you don't let it show you were close, wonwoo wouldn't notice until you're actually cumming and he wouldn't be able to edge you a second time.

it was risky, but you really wanted to cum already.

unfortunately for you, mingyu was too obedient to his boyfriend to cum down your throat without asking first.

"wonu, i'm close," he whined, making wonwoo pull your head off mingyu by your hair, making you whine loudly. you whined even louder when wonwoo exited you without giving you the release you needed.

"you are really noisy, y'know that?" wonwoo tells you teasingly. "good for you, i love hearing your sweet voice. stay in your position. mingyu come back here."

mingyu stands up on weak legs and kneels on the edge of the bed in front of your ass, his dick the perfect height to your entrance. wonwoo took a hold of his lover's dick and slowly pushed it in you again. you gasped at the unexpected intrusion. "hold her hips, baby, or she'll fall. she's so weak, you gotta help her. now, don't move yet, be patient."

mingyu stays still, painfully deep inside you. you loved the stretch from his dick. you could almost feel his tip brush against your sweet spot - if only he'd move a little and hit it with force.

you heard a whimper from mingyu, making you look back over your shoulder. your eyes widened, seeing wonwoo fingering mingyu from the back, two fingers deep already, preparing him. you realised what was about to come instantly. you turned your back and waited in anticipation, knowing that the best blow will come with the surprise of it.

you couldn't be more right because as soon as wonwoo's hips snapped against mingyu's, mingyu's snapped against yours, going balls deep. the feeling was extreme, one of a kind, and thrilly. mingyu's dick hit every right spot at every hit, making you reach cloud nine with the feeling. if not for mingyu's hands supporting your hips, you would have fallen down already with how weak your limbs felt.

the room sounded really filthy with the rhythmic double slapping of skins mixed with your moans, mingyu's whimpers and wonwoo's groans. but certainly mingyu was having the best time among you three, with his prostrate being abused by his boyfriend's dick on one end and having his dick swallowed by his best friend's pussy on the other. his eyes were rolling back and his throat ached with the loud noises it created. he was close a second time and he let his boyfriend know of it.

"cum on her pretty ass," wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a loud smack of his hand on mingyu's ass, making the latter cry. just as instructed, mingyu exited you before cumming ropes of white semen in your ass. "such a good puppy. now help her cum too. use your fingers on her clit."

mingyu's fingers found their way to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circular motions. you barely took any time before you were squirting, wetting the bed under you with a cry. you let your body fall on the bed and turn on your back so you could embrace mingyu, who fell right on top of you. wonwoo had slowed his speed a little to let his lover come down from his high at a relaxed pace without overstimulating him.

you kissed mingyu and mingyu kissed you, both finding comfort in the wet warmth of the other's mouth. the sight was oddly a turn-on for wonwoo, who soon came deep inside mingyu's ass, giving him a creampie as he exited. mingyu rolled over on the bed beside you, eyes closed shut from the tiredness.

you vaguely saw wonwoo get up and leave to the bathroom before your own eyes fell shut. you were sleepy already, it's probably past your usual bedtime. you barely registered being wiped clean with a warm and wet towel before being dressed in your pajama shorts and a loose tshirt. when your eyes opened wonwoo was doing the same to mingyu, kissing him on the top of his head after.

mingyu rolled to his side and snuggled against you sleepily, making you giggle softly while wonwoo got himself a pair of grey shorts to put on. wonwoo pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he snuggled on your other side. both the boys practically sandwiched you, with your back to wonwoo and front to mingyu.

you saw as the boyfriends shared a goodnight kiss, the sweetness dripping, making you smile for them. then mingyu looked at you with pouted lips, and you muttered a me too? before he pressed a kiss to your lips. you giggled as wonwoo picked your cheek as goodnight too.

"so, uhm, is this a thing now? we ... three?"

"it could be, if you like."

"i think i'd like it, it be great."

"this is so perfect, my cute little boyfriend and my cute little girlfriend." mingyu chuckled.

"i'm not little!" you and wonwoo whined simultaneously.

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haruchi-slit · 2 days

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hiii this is my first request ever so i dont know how this works HAHAHAHA

can i request a smutty sukuna fic or one shot whichever fits better about reader getting their nails done with sukunas tattoos and him getting all horny and shit ?

i saw this tik tok and i went feral about it

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMT14S6g/

my gosh I'm in awe with how gorgeous those nails look awhw this is such good idea, i hope i don't disappoint you with this ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ chi-list

minors dni, 18+ readers only! | sukuna is not in his true form + unprotected sex + cock bulge + doggy style + missionary + modern au uncle kuna and aunt reader! + not proof read

you woke up extra early to meet with your nailtech, nobara. you've been her client since she was not famous because your niece, yuuji introduced her to you, a few years ago. the reason you were at her studio at the first place because you were planning on surprising your boyfriend, sukuna with your nails matching his tattoos knowing how much he loved his tattoos and how they seemed to hold a special power over him- upon arriving on nobara's studio she greets you with a smile,

"hey, wifeyy what are we up to?" nobara giggles welcoming you in before she sat on her nail station, with her face resting on her hands.

"sooo i was thinking of surprising sukuna" you'd snicker as nobara nods profusely, "uh-huh" she murmurs, "and i was thinking of y'know getting my nails done like his tattoos" you giggled as a light shade of pink spreads across your cheeks, "ohh i see you girl, so what color are you gonna get?" nobara asked sheepishly, "so i want this specific color of pink" you chimed, picking up a nail polish displayed on nobara's table "and also I'd like to add some designs?" you added ulocking your phone and showing nobara sukuna's tattoos, "oh gosh i love your idea, shit we should start now"

.... after gossiping and giggling with nobara as she does your nail you were finally good to go,

you stretched out your fingers, admiring the intricate designs delicately painted on your nails. they were reminiscent of sukuna's tattoos, with swirling patterns, bold in black.

"shiiit i love you nobs they're so beautiful" you gagged in awe as you stared at your nails,

"well it is made by me, of course it'll be gorgeous!" nobara bantered, "i'm gonna give you a huge tip nobs, shit it's so beautiful" you swore you almost cried with how beautiful they look, after paying nobara you bid your goodbyes and you drove home eager to show them to your beloved boyfriend, once you reached your shared apartment your heart was beating so fast, as you open the door, you hobbled down to the living room seeing sukuna sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone, he was quick to notice you presence as you entered the room, sukuna watched you as you pattered from across the room, "where have you been, woman?" he asks placing his phone on the coffee table, you giggled " well i went out, i got my nails donee, i left you a text didn't i and i also told you yesterday!" you uttered,

"i suppose you did, i forgot and, i haven't checked my messages my bad" he rolls his eyes, "you're getting old as fuck" you jested, "what's me being old have to do with that, and why's your hands behind you back? are going to shoot me or something?" he jokes back laughing, "fuck no? as if i could the fuckkk, anyways look at themm!" you chuckled as you showcased your newly painted nails to him, spreading them out on the air, "aren't they beautiful?"

"They look good." he murmurs, "we're matching now, yeyyy!" you yelped, "do you know what's the catch?" you add making sukuna knit his brows in confusion, "so y'know i hand picked the color of my nails to match your tip" you giggled, "m-my tip? what do you mean?" sukuna stuttered, "don't play with me, sukuna..." you coed into his ear, your hot breath sending shivers down to his spine,

"I love them," he replied before standing up from the couch with his breath hitching- he quickly latched on to your lips giving you a passionate kiss, you can feel your stomach being filled with butterflies while your heart beats uncontrollably like it was going to explode. sukuna deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands wandered down to your hips. He couldn't help but feel turned on by the way your nails looked like his tattoos. It reminded him of his power, his dominance.

Before you knew it, you were pinned against the wall, sukuna's hands ripping off your clothes. sukuna's fingers traced over your newly painted nails, sending sparks of pleasure through you, you groaned as he nibbled on your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin leaving red hickeys on your neck, like decorations. he could feel your pulse racing under his lips, making him even more aroused, with a swift movement, sukuna had bent you over a nearby table, your nails scratching against the surface. sukuna couldn't wait any longer, his desire for your sweet cunt was consuming him. before even registrating in to you he thrust into you hard, causing you to gasp for air and arch your back.

you couldn't help but moan loudly, the sensation of sukuna's tattooed arms rubbing against your skin driving you wild. you could feel him ram his hard dick in your sopped cunt, "s'kuna ngh-" you pant, gripping on the table hard, leaving deep scratches on it,

hi"y'know i- wasn't -fuck! expecting you to get my tattoos printed on your nails" he grunts in your ear nibbling on it slightly while he thrusts in you hard that you could feel his cock bulging on your abdomen, hitting every weak spot of yours, "you got me so worked up girl.."

he'd keen, placing a hand on your back as he watched your cunt suck him in with every thurst he makes.

he flipped you around before he thrusted mercilessly in your pussy, making you mewl in pleasure, getting closer and closer to the edge, your body was trembling with pleasure.

sukuna's pace quickened, his hands gripping your plush thighs tightly with his callused palms as he pounded into you, your bare your painted nails on his back making crescent wounds, scratching his bare back as he could feel your walls clenching around him, signaling your release. with one final thrust, the both of you reached your climaxes, crying out each other's names.

you both catch your breath, as sukuna pulled you close, his lips brushing against your ear. "you look so cute when you're a pretty mess," he whispered, sending chills down your spine.

you smiled, your fingers running through his hair. "so did you liked my surprise?" you asked, your voice breathless.

sukuna chuckled and leaned in for a kiss, grateful " i f'king love them" he mumurs before kissing you once more.

a/n: sorry it took so long huhu i was distracted in playing roblox and other video games but, i hope you guys liked it! -REQUESTS OPEN-

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imwetforyourmom · 2 days

Text

lights gone

you ran across the beach, the wet sand attempting to sink your feet in—yet your rushed footsteps beat it. panicked breathing flowed in and out of your lungs, everything was crashing down at once.

your chest felt hallow, as you got closer to the oh so familiar lighthouse, where memories of your and matt’s shared laughter echoed throughout, where the sloppy noises of lips smacking against eachother was and where.. just, where your and matts situationship lived.

he’d been the only man in your life who’d treated you like you actually mattered, like he actually liked loved you. you didnt want this to end, but it had to. he was the only man that actually treated you as someone he was interested in and not just for sex.

“this isnt fair, this isnt fucking fair.” your shaky voice rung throughout the lighthouse as you opened and closed the door behind you. you blinked back the tears that threatened to flow, to flow and only make you feel worse.

you walked up the stairs to where matt was—the highest level where he watched the ocean, watched the waves crash down onto one another, the air fogged and the wind aggressively pushing and shoving, announcing its presence.

“matt- I- I need to talk to you” you spoke, taking your turn from the wind to announce your own presence, your fingers fidgeting with eachother, your nerves taking over.

your familar voice warmed matt, a small grin forming on his face. he turned around to look at you, ready to see your overbearing grin and and fidgety hands (that were fidgeting cause you were so full with happiness), yet when he saw your appearance his grin died down to an unsure, small smile.

he stood from his chair, making his way over to you, the clicking of his boots thumming against the wood mirroring the same thrumming of your heart against your ribcage.

“whats wrong sweetheart?” he asked, his eyes trailing your face to capture more of your distressedness, to see what the cause of it was.

“I-“—you couldnt look at him while saying it, so instead you threw yourself in his arms, wrapping your arms around his torso and shoving your face into the nape of his neck, where your shaky, muffled voice continued—“I have to leave, matty, and I cant come back.” you revealed what the cause of your distressedness was.

matts arms returned the same wrap around you, holding you in his comforting body heat, warming your shivering frame. his hands rubbed your back assuringly.

he took a small breath in, to calm his own composure from crying, he didnt want you to hear his vulnerabilty. “y/n, baby, its okay- you’re okay, im okay, we’re gonna be okay.” he mumbled into your hair, trying his best to comfort you with his words.

“but its not okay, matt! I love you, and I cant see you anymore!” a sob ripped from your throat, you wanted the first time you tell him you love him to be special, but it wasnt anywhere near special and it probably never would be.

matt knew long before you did that you’d leave after summer was nearing an end, he knew but refused to believe it. he didnt want his special girl leaving him.

“dont do that to yourself, sweetheart, dont say those words.” his own words took a toll on him, how badly he wanted to return them, yet he didnt want to hurt you even more, knowing that you shared feelings, but couldnt pursue them.

your stomach crumbled with rejection, and even more tears and sobs flowed from your throat and eyes, your tears imiatading the largeness of the ocean and how persistent it was with the water, the water holding such great amounts of sadness, one couldnt dare put themselves in its place, yet you had no choice but to experience it.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @e1ias3 @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza @meerkatzthings @joemamaaa42069 @norr1ssturni0lo

@maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @mels22lunchbox @riasturns @chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx @dollyspsychoxo

@aliceloveschris @starsturni

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo blurb #blurb #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #blurb matt sturniolo #Spotify

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willyoubemycherryy · 1 day

Text

Awkard…maybe not? (C. Sturniolo x reader)

𝑶𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓➬ 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

“𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑛! 𝐼𝑡 𝑐𝑎𝑛’𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑢𝑝 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒!”

𝑰𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔: 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒙, 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌, 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒚, 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄, 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 ^^, 𝒂 “𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅” 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 “𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅”, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒔𝒐 𝑫𝑶𝑵’𝑻 𝒇𝒖̈𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔, 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐𝒐 𝒃𝒐𝒚

.𖤐☆彡.°

This just might be the most mortifying thing to ever happen to you in the history of your life ever.

The boys hadn’t stopped by in a while (they had a habit of sporadically popping up) and it was just you so, you figured you’d have some alone time with your favorite pink bullet.

After showering and making sure everything was nice and clean, you went to your room and got started. The mood came easy as your hands caressed all over your body, teasing your wet nub with one hand and lubing your bullet vibe with the other then inserting it up your…

The light stretch combined with the vibrations made you sigh in pleasure as you teased yourself more intensely. You felt good and everything was going great until you came and tried to take out the toy that you realized you couldn’t.

You couldn’t reach it.

Freezing in panic, your breath hitches and you swear your gonna have a stroke. You try another position and try to reach it but you still can’t. You try not to cry but tears bead in your eyes as frustration bubbles inside you. It so wasn’t fair. All you wanted to do was enjoy yourself but nooo your ass just couldn’t live.

At this point, all the sheer fear and indignation rises up your throat and you let out a horror movie worthy wail, screaming like a possessed woman.

But since your luck had been so great, the flurry of knocks and rings at your door stop you in your tracks.

Not now.

You could not handle a triplet tornado right now.

The noise at your door doesn’t stop so you throw on some pajama pants and a loose shirt to go open the door and realize on the way there that the buzzing from your vibe is audible.

Kill you now, actually.

Huffing and tossing your hair a bit, you open the door and instead of three, there’s only one.

Chris’s smile drops as he notices your face.

“Hey? I wanted to come hang n see if you wanted to mini golf with us later..but if now’s a bad tim-“ he’s speaking gently but you cut him off with a groan. No mini golf hate. “Chris, you couldn’t have just called me?” You whine and Chris throws his hands up in surrender. “Woahh, i did. You didn’t pick up.”

Well damnit.

You both get quiet and that’s when he hears it. The faint buzzing makes him furrow his brows as he looks down at you.

“What is that?”

The embarrassment makes your heart rate skyrocket as you flush before yanking him inside by his hoodie. Dragging him up to your room, you slam him against the door. Slapping your hand over his mouth you swear him to secrecy because you’d be damned if anyone, including his brothers, ever found out about this and if someone ever did, you’d know exactly who told them and you swear to Chris that you would never speak to him again.

Nodding furiously against your hand, he takes out his phone and shows you him turning it off and that’s when you let him go.

“W-what the fuck? No, what’s wrong?? And what’s with the buz-“

“I got my vibrator stuck up my ass!”

You wish you took a picture of his face as he registered your words.

“I BEG YOUR MOST GLORIOUS PARDON?!”

•

After explaining to Chris how it got stuck, he sat on your bed arguing with you about what the next steps should be.

If you weren’t humiliated before, explaining your masturbation session gone south with one of the hottest guys on the planet would certainly do it.

“It’s MY ass! It can stay where it wants!”

“But that makes no sense! If you won’t go to the hospital, then let me help!”

Pause. The visual alone buries you and you snap completely.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT! Where is your SHAME?! I’m not letting you look, let alone dig around in there!” Chris rolls his eyes before standing up to match you.

“It’s fine! Just bend over and pull your pants down! It can’t stay stuck up there!”

Fuck he has a point. Taking in a shaky breath, you look down. Tears pool in your eyes because it couldn’t stay in and you were fucking terrified.

There’s a loud sigh before you feel hands cupping your face as Chris makes you look at him. His eyes make your heart stop in a way that contradicts the “friends” part of your relationship but you ignore it.

“Look, it’s embarrassing and I get it but don’t worry about that. I just wanna help, m’not judging you. Okay, kid?” Flushing, he’s rarely ever this soothing, you nod. “Yeah, okay,” pausing, you ask, “w-what do I do? So you can…?” This time, there’s a faint blush on Chris’s cheeks as he clears his throat and moves so you can go lie down.

“Right, well…pants off, all fours, not facing me.”

Taking a deep breath you follow his instructions and Chris feels like the air just got punched out of his chest. The arousal from before is still wet on your pussy and fuck it looks so pretty. He’s praying to god he can keep it down because he really can see everything as he kneels on the carpeted floor behind you, checking in. “Alright, talk to me. S’it okay if I start now?” He’s talking lower but the feel of his breath on your skin makes you shiver, the exposure has your head spinning as you nod.

“Yeah, go ahead..but just..,”

“Hmm?“

“C-can you see? Like…everything?” You sound so cute all shy that Chris almost coos at you.

“Yeah mamas..I can see…but you’re perfectly fine.”

Letting out a breath, you nod and wait for him.

“Okay, I’m gonna start so try to relax..” Chris says, smoothing his hands up the sides of your thighs. His palms are warm and you sigh absentmindedly at the pleasant feeling. His fingers move up to your hole and the wetness makes him swear internally as he asks again, “okay?” You whisper back, “okay”, then he’s slowly sliding in, and you gasp. Tightening instinctively as you feel them wiggle around. Your blush is down to your back as you hear him swear.

“Jesus, fuck- kid”, taking in a deep breath with you but for a different reason entirely, your tight and slick but he tries to remind himself that this shouldn’t be sexy. You’re his friend who he’s definitely never been attracted to, that he’s helping.

“Ch-chris..? Do you f-feel it?” His fingers are longer than yours but they’re not that deep which your grateful for.

Luckily he does, pressing it down near your bellybutton so it doesn’t get lost again, sliding it out as it vibrates his fingers.

“Yeah, hold on-“ he cuts himself off as a moan bursts out of you. Looking down, you’re dripping wet and he’s so hard his dick hurts. You apologize profusely because this was already awkward but you couldn’t help it. Chris slowly gets it out as it falls into his palm. He turns off the pink offense as you turn to look at him.

He’s still on his knees but that’s the least of the concerns. His eyes are blown and the blue makes them even more intense, still, you awkwardly thank him.

Nodding with a half grin, he gets up and that’s when you notice he’s hard. Your eyes go wide as you stare at the outline through his sweats before Chris clears his throat, making your eyes snap up to meet his. Chris drops the toy in your hand, “There. I believe that’s yours, I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick so be back”, you barely nod before he’s gone as you process what the fuck just happened while you clean up and get new shorts on and throw your stupid toy out the window.

Meanwhile Chris is in your bathroom trying to will away his erection and not think about you as he washes his hands but it doesn’t work and he can still smell the strawberry flavored lube so he dries his hands and goes back to your room.

You’re in different shorts looking just as embarrassed as before, as he comes to sit next to you.

“Chris I-“

“Don’t worry about it Buzz, I won’t tell.” You scoff at the nickname while he chuckles, you shake your head.

“I was gonna say your dick is still hard but live your best life or whatever.” His mouth drops in an offended gasp and he fires back.

“I just found out your bad ass is an anal freak! Obviously I’m hard!”

Your eyebrow jumps in shock as you stare in disbelief before nodding with a shrug.

“That’s fair…”

It’s quiet for a minute as you two try to ignore what friendly things you don’t want to do with each other but you cave. “Well, since you helped me out…can I return the favor?” Chris drops his head back with a groan because you can’t say shit like that as he looks at you uncertainly.

“Only if you want t-“ you cut him off eagerly.

“Oh I one hundred percent want to just, y’know, you scratch my back I scratch yours...“

Nodding with a smile, Chris hurries and pulls you into his lap, kissing you on the lips.

“Well the funny thing about my back is….”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

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jenomi · 3 days

Text

gala night with jeno

pairing: non-idol!jeno x afab!reader content warnings: FLUFF! :3 & suggestive if you squint

✧･ﾟ: *✧*:･ﾟ✧

"babe are you ready? we're gonna be late" you hear your fiancé jeno call from the kitchen.

"yes yes yes" you trot out of the room quickly carrying your heels.

tonight, you were attending the annual summer gala hosted by your company. it was one of the most talked about events of the year for it's grandeur and auction items. you were feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness, but knowing you'll have jeno by your side brought you comfort.

"okay" you quietly whisper to yourself as you finish putting on your heels and check your hair and makeup in the mirror by the door. you stand up straight and smooth out the material of your dress. "how do i look?" you turn to face jeno.

"beautiful." he says on an exhale.

your heart skips a beat as you step closer to your fiancé and fix his tie. "you look handsome as ever" you whisper laying your hand on his chest as you tilt your head up to give him a kiss and a smile.

he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. as you pull back with a smile, jeno follows your lips.

"this is why i didn't put on any lip product yet" you laugh lightly and you swear you hear jeno moan softly. you quickly finish your lip routine in the mirror before receiving a text from your friend who's also attending the gala tonight.

"okay kimmy just texted me saying her and jaemin just left their apartment. we should go too" you say grabbing your clutch and typing a quick reply to your coworker/friend.

jeno grabs his car keys, "mm let's go" he smiles and kisses your cheek before opening the door for you.

he holds your hand down to the car and makes sure you step over any gaps, grates, and puddles in your heels. you smile fondly at him each time, you wonder how you could fall more in love with him, yet it happens more and more everyday.

as you pull up to the hotel that the gala was hosted at, jeno makes sure your door stays locked so valet can't open your door and help you out of the car. he wants to do that himself, and it makes you laugh every time. your silly, jealous fiancé.

the building was beautiful, lights framing the stairs leading up to it and the hotel lights illuminating the clear night sky.

you bump into your friend and her boyfriend as you're waiting for the elevator. you exchange greetings and feel grateful that you and jeno have friends to help keep you company. jeno and jaemin grew close through you and kimmy, even planning hang outs without the two of you. you both laugh and say that they're in love.

you all enter the ballroom fashionably late as the auction begins. you both don't plan on going home with anything, but you do your duty and place bids on things you wouldn't mind having but once the price gets too high, you tap out. nonetheless, you both still try to have fun, whispering silly comments to each other and having to hide your laughs with your panels.

"that vase would look amazing in our boat" jeno whispered. you don't have a boat.

"my mom would love that" you whisper about a clutch completely covered in jewels. she would hate that. "so would mine" jeno responds. his mom would hate it even more.

when the live auction concludes, you and kimmy head to find your supervisors to say your hellos and have your chats while jeno and jaemin take to the silent auction. if jeno sees something he'd think you'd like, he'll place a generous bid on it. in years past, you've come home to him gifting you a beautiful yet simple necklace that he'll shyly reveal that he won at the gala you attended together. your eyes light up when you receive such an unexpected gift, that he tries to continue the tradition and win something he knows you'd love each year to be the reason for the surprised look on your face.

after a few glasses of champagne (but not for jeno, since he's driving) and a healthy amount of mingling, you and jeno start your goodbyes and head home. you're thoroughly tipsy at this point, clinging onto jeno's arm or having jeno's arm secure around your waist. you giggle as you enter the empty elevator to go down to the lobby.

"i love you" you rest your chin on his chest.

his eyes crease as he smiles, "i love you too baby" and leans down to give you a peck on the lips.

as you exit the building, you squeal as your fiancé carries you bridal style down the stairs earning you a few stares and some smiles. jeno didn't care. all he cared about was you - he knew your feet were hurting from being in your heels all night, and he didn't want you hurting yourself any more than you already have.

jeno sets you down on at the bottom of the stairs with a pat on your ass before he hands his ticket to valet to get his car. as you wait, jeno wraps his jacket around your shoulders. you weren't cold, but jeno always worries and doesn't want you to get sick. he walks away for a moment, leaving you confused since valet is already grabbing his car.

you see him approach a younger couple and shyly ask, "hi. sorry, do you mind taking a picture of me and my fiancé?"

they happily agree and you and jeno pose lovingly in front of the illuminated steps. jeno wraps his hand around your waist and you turn your body towards him and place your left hand on his chest. you both smile for the camera but then jeno leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek. you giggle as you turn to look up at him and place your hand on his neck.

you momentarily forget your picture was being taken until the young girl gives the phone back to jeno. he thanks her right as his car pulls up.

of course, jeno opens the door for you before tipping the valet driver discreetly with a handshake. you watch the interaction intently before jeno gets in the car.

"you know its customary to tip valet, right? you don't have to do a secret handshake" you tease.

"yea, but i feel cool doing it" you laugh at his honest response as he leans over the console to buckle your seat belt for you. he pulls back before leaning in to give you a quick kiss again before putting the car in drive.

as jeno drives home, you unlock his phone to look at the pictures you just took. they were beautiful, honestly almost as beautiful as your engagement photos. the lighting was perfect, and you could see the sparkle in both your and jeno's eyes. your engagement ring sparkles on your hand against his chest. and in the photos before he leans down to kiss you on the cheek, you can see jeno looking down at you like you're his whole world and it makes your heart strings pull. and in the last few photos, you're both looking at each other with silly smiles and nothing but love in your eyes. your diamond ring catches the moonlight in the last photo, making it shine brighter than ever just like your love for each other.

you quickly send all the photos to yourself before reaching over and grabbing jeno's hand and giving him a kiss on the cheek. he smiles at you and kisses the back of your hand before focusing back on the road. his hand rests innocently on your thigh, but you both know the main event begins when you get home.

#jeno #nct dream jeno #jeno imagines #nct dream imagines #nct jeno #nct dream #jeno lee #nct #nct jeno imagines #lee jeno #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #lee jeno x reader #nct jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno x y/n

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orbitariums · 3 days

Text

warmth | art donaldson + patrick zweig + black fem reader (a snippet)

full length part 1 here!

i miss posting on here real bad and i keep teasing things (christopher moltisanti, richie jerimovich) and not actually writing/releasing them SO i'm putting this snippet of this oneshot i'm writing to encourage myself to actually put this out.

i think this will probably have multiple parts because the tension needs to builddd. and please, let me know y'alls thoughts!!! what do you think, what do you predict is gonna happen, r u thirsting adequately, etc. i love hearing your little comments <333

& let me know if you’d wanna be tagged when this comes out

essentially: reader, patrick and art were childhood best friends who conveniently were all in love with each other, or at least had enough sexual tension to make it feel that way. fast forward almost a decade later, and reader has made it onto the red carpet with her fantastic pen, and patrick and art have gone pro. when she invites them to her house for a star-studded friendsgiving, tensions rise and old doors open, springing forth new possibilities. this is only the beginning.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

warmth

“We should just turn around now, save ourselves the embarrassment.”

Patrick paid Art no mind, rolling down the window and leaning out of it, pressing the buzzer as you had dutifully instructed them in your email invite.

“Too late now. Already threw away about a gallon of gas just coming up the hill to this place,” he replied, the sense of ease in his voice only egging Art on even more.

“Exactly why we should leave. I mean, fuck. Does she have to live on a hill?”

“Residence of [last name], to whom am I speaking?” a male voice rings on the other end.

“Uh…” Patrick starts, Art reaching up over him,

“Patrick Zweig and Art Donaldson?”

A silence filled the air. Patrick swatted at Art, forcing him back in his seat.

“Why’d you say it like a question, dumbass?”

Art stammered, already starting to get red in the face,

“I was --”

The gate swung open and both the boys let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you!” Patrick chimed, smirking at Art, who seemed to be sinking in his seat.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Meanwhile, you were inside the mansion that you call home, flowing around the kitchen like there weren’t about fifty people milling about and mingling amongst one another. It smelled like something out of Hansel and Gretel -- from the fragrant brown roasted turkey sitting in the oven, to the gourmand scent of perfectly caramelized candied yams, to the vanilla musk perfume you dotted on your wrists. A black mini Schnauzer nipped excitedly at your feet as you added half a cherry tomato to the giant bowl of salad you’ve been prepping for the last twenty minutes. You look like a pro, like a party of this magnitude is no big deal to you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Do we ring the doorbell? Or maybe… should we knock?” Art questioned, hands tied behind his back as he glanced up at Patrick for answers.

“It’s open,” Patrick retorted, but he too stood stupefied at the door, like a weary traveler wavering in horrific awe before the mouth of some epic beast.

“On three?” Art suggested, and when he didn’t hear a response, he started to count, “one… two…”

Patrick stepped in before Art could get to three. Art scoffed, but followed behind him anyway.

The two of them stood there silently, taking the grandiosity of it all in — the sky-high dome ceiling, two grand wooden staircases directly opposite one another, the shiny verdant porcelain flooring, the Basquiat painting hanging above the wide bookcase directly in front of them. Mouths open, they looked like they were ready to catch flies.

“Fuuuck me,” Patrick breathed out heavily. Art’s head was stuck staring up at the ceiling, so high he thought it’d never end.

“You made it.”

Both Art and Patrick seemed to stand straight at the sound of your voice, like soldiers at attention. You almost laughed, but instead you stood there coolly, smiling at them both with your lips and your eyes— in them, a look that was almost knowing, wise beyond your years. It seemed like a lifetime before either of them would speak. They spent half that lifetime practically gawking at you, drinking you in. And how could they not, when you were draped in that cream-colored silk dress, the flowy bottom dancing above your ankles. You looked more beautiful than they remembered you, calmer, secure — of course, they hadn’t seen you since they were teenagers. Now there was this air of timelessness about you that was only just poking at the surface when you were in high school. Now it surrounded you. Something mystic encompassed your entire spirit, dripping from your head to your feet. They’d spent years seeing you from behind a screen, being interviewed on live TV, attending red carpets for award shows, blending in with the Hollywood mecca — another beautiful twenty-something industry talent. But the glow of the television that seemed to give everyone a perfectly filtered sheen was nothing compared to your beauty here.

“It’s so good to see you,” Patrick broke the silence first, practically lurching forward with open arms to embrace you. His beard scratched against your cheek. You could smell the cologne that was beginning to wear off, mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke. His arms nearly suffocated you.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he smiled at you so fervently.

“Good to see you too, Patrick…” you glanced over at the mousy boy who didn’t seem to have changed much since high school. “C’mere, Artie.”

Art chuckled: a nervous huff of relief, inching forward into your open arms and nuzzling his chin into your shoulder, closing his arms around your midwaist. You could smell the aftershave that still clung to his face, and the detergent still fresh from his clothes.

You pulled away, but took one of each of their hands, squeezing.

“My two boys. Man, how long has it been?”

“Oh, just a while—”

“Seven years,” Art interjected.

“Who’s counting, right?” Patrick grinned, making all of you laugh.

You looked at them almost expectantly, eyes wide like a doe, the slightest smile playing at your lips. They looked back with bated breaths. Always, you were in charge, always. It had been like this since the scabby-kneed days of childhood. If you wanted to play on the swings, they were there on either side of you. You were the queen of the sandbox. In middle school, they snuck extra cookies for you from the lunchroom and fought over who got to surprise you with the treat every day. Senior year of high school, in the hotel room in London, when you had them perched on either side of you like baby birds waiting for mother’s return— when you had both your hands on each of their thighs, had them panting like puppy dogs, inching your hands further and further only to leave the minute you heard “lights out.”

It had been seven years since then and still, it was the same. Only this time, you were stupidly rich, thanks to the soaring success of your two psychological thriller books turned TV series. It wasn’t that you’d forgotten about them, or didn’t care about them now that you were rich and famous. You’d gotten accepted to study creative writing at Brown, Art went to play at Stanford, and Patrick went on his path to go pro. You were delighted to see that they were only a click away thanks to the internet, just one click away from being reintegrated into your life. Your childhood best friends.

“C’mon, lunch is almost ready.”

Friendsgiving. Who didn’t love the concept? It was a readily welcomed, wholesome idea — friends of all ages and backgrounds coming together to rehash their Thanksgiving with leftovers, stories from the year, and maybe a game of cards. Except your friendsgiving was attended by A-list actresses, Cannes festival attending screenwriters, and the odd Grammy-nominated artist. And your friendsgiving was not at all an intimate affair — it may as well have been a club party. Most people were outside, dancing, shrieking with laughter, drinking, and skipping their way to their seats. Your backyard was vast and verdant green, with a pool in the center, the perimeter lined with lemon and peach trees, and miles to explore.

“This is fucking insane, is that Dakota Johnson?” Patrick scoffed. He and Patrick had been left to their own devices yet again, while you flitted around being the hostess with the mostest, easing and gliding about. A laugh here, a clink of glasses there, and a coolness to you that stood in striking comparison with the warmth that stirred deep down inside you. A warmth that could be served with a ladle into goblets, like some elixir with magical properties only you possessed.

“No, you idiot, that’s— oh shit. That might be Dakota Johnson.”

Clink clink clink.

“Everybody, hi, hi! Thank you for coming, please, sit down,” you called out, clinking your glass to get the attention of your guests. Patrick and Art scrambled to find seats, ending up at a table with people who might have been minor celebrities or art critiques or designers -- at least one of those options.

“I wanna thank you all so much for coming, this really means a lot to me. I know these sorts of things can be really hectic, but you guys make this house feel like a home. I’m glad that some of you will be staying with me for the next few days, there’s always room for more,” you glanced over at Art and Patrick. “Some of you are new friends, some of you I’ve known for far too long. But I think it’s incredibly fucking cool that we’re all here together now in this moment, just enjoying each other’s presence. I do this every year, and every year I meet even more amazing, talented, fascinating people and you all are so dear to my heart. And now, what we’re all waiting for… lunch is served!”

A cacophony of cheers rang out as staff rushed about to place plates in front of everyone. You stood giggling, basking in all of it. Patrick and Art couldn't help but watch on with deeply impressed smiles — you were meant to bask: in glory, in pleasure, in everything. You looked just right standing where you were.

The rest of the afternoon Patrick and Art spent attempting to blend in as best they could. They were pro tennis players, but this was another level of stardom that they couldn’t quite fathom yet. They watched you ruthlessly the entire night, unable to squash those rising feelings of attraction and yearning for you that had never quite simmered to begin with. You’d always been cooler than them, but watching you now there was a certain air to you that belonged to a grown woman, someone comfortable and confident and in their element. You were positively swimming in the sunlight the entire afternoon. It was like you had this sort of magnetic pull to all things good, rich, and warm. People wanted to be around you. And god, did this prove that.

By night time, people were finally starting to leave. The sun hung low in the darkening sky, making the fairy lights glow stronger now. The few people that were staying with you for the rest of Thanksgiving weekend had disappeared to their rooms. Besides the waitstaff still milling about, clearing the tables, it was just you, Patrick, and Art. The two of them hadn’t meant to stay so long, really. It wasn’t like they were forcing themselves to stick around and be acknowledged by you in a way that felt meaningful. Sure, you’d had your small talk and cracked a few inside jokes, but as much as neither wanted to admit it, they needed more. If it was hard to get your attention before, it was nearly impossible now. They were surrounded by so many people who all wanted to network and talk and introduce themselves, they found themselves mingling with your friends, some of them people who they’d seen on screen in the past year, more than you. They’d been dragged onto the dance floor multiple times by multiple acquaintances, only to gawk at you swaying your hips rather than actually dance themselves. It became overwhelmingly clear, in their increasingly present desperation, that they should’ve accepted your offer to stay in this castle of a house for the weekend. Neither of them had packed a bag.

“This is awkward, we’re the only ones left,” Art sighed, still sitting at their table.

“Let’s just… wait, okay? She might come back out."

"And give us a little speech?"

"Yeah, asshole, maybe she will."

At that very moment, you appeared again, this time clad in a two piece linen pajama set. You didn’t miss the way both their eyes trailed up your legs as you stood in front of them, arms crossed, smiling expectantly.

“I was hoping you two would still be here,” you said. You glanced between the two of them, that awkward silence filling the air once again. “C’mon. Let’s talk.”

You turned and walked back inside, the two of them trailing behind you.

"Your house is fucking sick by the way. I mean holy shit," Art blurted once you got to the main entrance hall.

"Feel like I just walked into a page of Architectural Digest," Patrick added on.

You led them up the stairs. Both their eyes dropped to your ass, which poked out just a bit from under the pair of shorts you wore. Silently watching the way your body curved as you walked.

"Ha, thanks. I think I did pretty okay for myself," you replied.

You led them to the den on the second floor and sat criss cross apple sauce on the lush green couch. Art sat on your left, Patrick on your right. Patrick spread his legs and Art had one foot up on the couch, bouncing against his knee.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk much. I was so busy being the host of the year that I didn’t pay enough attention to you two. My favorites.”

Art chuckled,

“Favorites? You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m serious! D’you know how much I missed you guys?”

Patrick scoffed playfully,

“All those TV interviews I watched of you? I wouldn’t even be thinking about us.”

You couldn’t help but grin, that warmth coming through once again. It nearly made the two men melt.

“Well I was. I always think about you guys.”

Now came Patrick’s voice again, a heaviness to it that almost made you jump,

“Do you think about anything specific?”

Although it had been nearly a decade since you’d last seen each other, you didn’t miss a single thing about either of them. Patrick didn’t mince words, and he never shied away from not just hinting at, but blaring his salacious intentions every time he spoke. You tilted your head towards him, a cool smile tugging at your lips.

“Just what good times we had.”

A silence, accented with a flood of nostalgia and a pointed reference to those “good times” permeated the air. You took a moment to gaze at the two of them ever so softly — enough for them to feel it, but not enough to make them squirm (though, they were easy to make squirm) — before you decimated the silence by slapping your hands down on either of their thighs and squeezing endearingly.

“So tell me, where’ve you two been? I’m not the only one on TV these days.”

“Ahh, you don’t wanna hear about boring tennis,” Art waved a hand of dismissal.

You chortled, a trademark of yours that Art and Patrick had always poked fun at in school,

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“You still laugh the same,” Patrick said, grinning like he was trying not to but was unable.

You chuckled, this time low in your throat, and turned your head to face him again. You and Patrick were similar in the sense that you were always pushing the boundaries, tiptoeing closer and closer to the line — but the three of you had never quite established where that was. At some point, you were all just too close to even think about “the line” or “boundaries” — all of you appeared clueless to societal expectations of friendship, spurting a sort of cultlike relationship where everyone else was an outsider.

“Do I?” smiling at him like you were warning him not to tease.

“Yeah, that little snort you do,” Patrick replied, unshaken.

“You do do a little snort,” Art chimed in, always chirping like he spoke from a less nefarious place.

“And if I get started on you guys’ little tennis grunts?” you grinned fully now, showing teeth, looking between the two of them and leaning back a bit.

They followed, leaning back against the couch and keeping their heads in line with yours so you were never too far away from them, each of them turning their heads to look at you.

“No way you actually watch us,” Art replied.

“I do!” you insisted. “Seriously, if you’d asked anybody here you would know.”

“Sure, let me just strike up conversation with George Clooney,” Art shot back.

“Ha-ha,” you bleated sarcastically. “I don’t even know him… but I have walked past him once on the carpet.”

“Look at you,” Patrick smirked. “Little Miss Superstar.”

He punctuated his sentence with a hand on your knee. Your eyes flickered over to him and you caught the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed, felt the way he gazed up at you. You didn’t miss the desire twinkling in his eyes.

Then Art, always second but not necessarily last,

“She’s our little superstar, you know that, right?”

His hand just gently grazing your shoulder.

You let them revel in the moment for as long as you felt appropriate, then huffed.

“You know you guys can stay for the weekend, right? I mean, you should.”

“Oh… no, we wouldn’t wanna impose,” Patrick said, his hand slinking away from your knee.

Another chortle from you, this time the kind that said everything about how you lived in comparison to them,

“You wouldn’t be. This is a five bedroom house. It’s fine. Besides, don’t you guys wanna actually catch up? I’ll let you torture me with tennis talk.”

Art started to stammer,

“I-I mean… we didn’t bring anything.”

“Just our idiot selves,” Patrick added.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get Charles to get you guys all set up.”

“Charles?”

“Oh, he’s my assistant,” you said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing. “You’re not fighting me on this. I want to spend some quality time with my boys. Don’t make me have to beg for it.”

“We could never make you beg for anything,” Art replied, just a little too quickly.

“I know, Art, that’s why I love you,” you grinned over at him. “So, are we all in agreement? Stay with me. Just this weekend.”

“Yes,” they both replied a little too quickly this time.

You bit your lip, suppressing a smile.

“You know… I really, really missed you guys. And those good times we had.”

You let the memory of that night of almosts in London resurge, let their minds run amuck with whatever teenage fantasy was still left over from that night. A moment so brief it could almost be forgotten, could even be flagged as incidental, accidental, but the three of you knew, even as grown adults (especially as grown adults), that it would always stick and remain unresolved, unless someone ran to the rescue with some sort of solution. Once again they held their breaths. You stood up, glanced between the two of them like you were sizing them up, and then smiled as if nothing had happened at all — you let them breath.

“Your bedroom’s the second on the right when you leave here. Charles will help you get set up— I’ll see you guys in the morning for breakfast.”

And just like that, you were gone. The air in the room seemed to clear. Your presence was like a thousand tons of pressure weighing on their bodies and their minds. Finally, they could breathe.

They glanced at each other with the same longing, almost nervous expression — high school all over again.

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eek let me know what y'all thought. i wanna finish it by this week <3

#challengers #challengers smut #challengers fic #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson imagine #patrick zweig imagine #x reader #x black reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x black reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x black! reader

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mattybsgroupie · 20 hours

Text

misbehave | matt sturniolo

contents: cursing; established relationship; edging; handjob (m receiving); p in v; creampie; mommy kink; sub!matt

- ♡ -

notes: i feel this is a bit too much but here’s matthew calling you mamas mommy momma ma etc, enjoy!!! if you dont think matt has mommy kink fuck you cause he does. also not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes! part 2 of “late night rides” coming out next week, we’re fucking matt in the van <3 love you guys

- ♡ -

matt was leaning against the countertop of the kitchen, laughing about something i did not hear with his friends. i was thirsty and he wouldn’t read my messages, so my only solution was to walk through the living room and grab some water for myself.

i tried my best to not interrupt the so called boys night and decided to ignore him, just like he did to my texts. as i was making my way to the fridge, i felt matt’s huge hand slapping my ass followed by a “grab me a drink as well mamas”.

i couldn’t believe his boldness.

i stopped for a bit and stared at him before opening the cold device and grabbing myself a bottle of water and a root beer for him. i got closer to matt to the point our noses were touching, and he looked at me with a cheeky grin growing on his face.

“you are fucked” i whispered, slamming the soda can next to him and giving him a peck, so his friends wouldn’t know what we were actually talking about. i left matt standing there, his blue eyes widening as he realized he was, indeed, fucked.

- ♡ -

around 1am, matt said goodbye to the last guy leaving the house, closing the door and resting his back on the wall. he smiled as i walked to his direction, opening his arms to a hug that i didn’t give, resting my hand on his shoulder instead.

“what was that?” i asked, innocent look on my face.

“what was what?” he played fool.

“uhm, slapping my ass in front of everybody?” i questioned, frowning my eyebrows.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about”

“oh yeah? you don’t remember calling me mamma either?” he gulped, finding the ceiling interesting to stare at. “say it again.” matt shook his head in disagreement. he was trying so hard to piss me off.

“baby, you really think you’re getting somewhere behaving like this?” i asked, my fingers tickling his neck.

“i was, actually. gonna get ready to bed” he teased, loving every second of it.

“sweetie” i cooed, caressing his hair. matt melted into my touch, snuggling against my hand. “you’re not. only good boys are allowed to sleep with their mommies” i pouted, pretending i was so upset at his behavior.

“so you better fix that attitude of yours and behave for mommy, or you're sleeping on the couch.” i smiled before leaving a peck on his nose and quickly making my way to his room.

- ♡ -

i woke up in the middle of the night to matt’s whimpers and small cries. i didn’t notice exactly when he came to bed, but as our bodies were glued together, i could tell it had been a while. matt was burying his face on my back, our legs tangled, humming something i didn’t understand.

when i fully woke up, i realized why he was actually crying - i could feel his boner poking my thigh, matt’s hips moving in such a slow pace, torturing himself while humping my leg. i slightly turned myself to him, allowing my hands to rest above his sweaters.

“please mommy” matt whispered.

“hm? what is it baby?” i asked.

“wan’ you”

i fixed my position in bed, sitting by the headboard. matt did the same, following me with eager eyes. i couldn’t help but caressing his cheek, slowly traveling my hands down his naked chest and sealing our lips together. matt got desperate with my touch, breathing heavily and deepening the kiss. i palmed him through the cloth, receiving a whine in response “hurts, mama”.

i shushed him, instantly putting my hand inside of his pants and wrapping it around his cock. poor thing was leaking, pre-cum covering his whole shaft. this only made my job easier, pumping matt’s length at a quick pace while i placed love bits over his jaw.

“c-close”, matt suddenly said. i stopped right away, his blue orbs widening in confusion.

“you really think you deserve to cum? after acting like a brat all night long?”

matt loudly whined, frustrated with the lack of contact. my fingers made their way to his cock once again, but barely touching where he needed the most. “mommy f-fuck, please. i need you so bad”

i moved my thumb to his tip, circling it before teasing his slit. matt twitched in my hand, bucking his hips upwards to get some friction. i allowed him to get off on his own, holding his dick while he desperately pounded into my fist.

it didn’t take long for his thrusts to get sloppier “w-wanna cum”, he said whimpering. “wanna come for you”

i paused once again, loosening my grip. “not until you tell me why you did that earlier”. matt threw his head back, realizing that if actually wanted to come, he would have to answer me.

“fuck!” he cried before speaking again “i-i misbehaved!” matt finally let out, putting his left arm over his face, covering his shyness away. “because i wanted momma’s attention ah-!” he was cut off by me grabbing his cock one last time and quickly stroking him, not planning to stop this time.

“is that so, sweetie?” i whispered next to his ear, kissing throughout his neck.

“uhum, fuck” he moaned. “wanted mama t-to look at me”

“oh, my pretty boy. you just gotta ask next time. no need to put on a show to get mommy’s attention”

“b-but mommy was talking to- fuck, g-gonna cum” matt whined, his forehead coated in sweat. “can i? please?”

“are you gonna be a good boy for me?”

“yes” he nodded frantically, looking at me with puppy eyes. “matt good for momma”

“that’s right, matt’s so good for mommy. you can cum babe, make a mess on mamas hand hm?” with a few more pumps, he finally came. matt wouldn’t stop whimpering, finally being able to reach his orgasm after being edged for way too long. he covered my hand with his release, jointing his hips forward as he came from his high.

i gave him a kiss on the lips, moving the hair away from his face with my free hand and quickly cleaning us both with bed sheets. i knew matt would often get overwhelmed when in such headspace, so i made sure to hug him, letting him snuggle on my chest and rest for a bit.

as his breath calmed down, i kept running my fingers through his brown locks. “ma” matt muffled. “‘m sorry…”

“what for, baby?”

“misbehaving…”

“shh, it’s okay” i shushed him. edging him was already too much, but hearing his cries only made my cunt ache the whole time. “wanna make it up to mommy? think you handle another round?” matt nodded furiously, quickly getting up.

i could see he was half-hard, but i knew exactly how to get him going again. “oh” i complained. “my breasts are so sore”

“i can help with that!” he firmly said, hands already travelling to my tits. matt's fingers brushed lightly against my hardened nipples, as if he was waiting for permission to keep going. i nodded and got closer, making my way to his lap. sitting with both legs by his waist, i took my shirt off and soon my shorts were gone as well, completely exposed to him.

matt put his tongue out, licking my nub and making me gasp for the sudden contact. i placed both palms on his shoulders, getting near him as he squeezed my left boob and sucked the other. matt was so good and i always let him know that by moaning loudly and praising him for fucking me so well.

matt's hands moved to my ass, strongly groping it and opening my cheeks. his fingers tugged my skin, grip tightening as his tongue still worked on my breasts. it didn't take long to matt's fingers reach my entrance, teasing it slightly. he was fully hard again, cock lazily rubbing underneath me.

i positioned myself downwards, nearing my lower lips to his still wet tip, full of previous cum. pulling my hair aside, i kissed matt to cover his moans as i lowered myself on his shaft. matt was huge, but his sticky spurt made it easier for me to slide in, his veiny cock opening my walls as he burried himself inside of me.

“m-matt, gosh!” i whined once he was in, trying to adjust to his size.

“so tight mommy” matt breathed heavily, closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward. i bounced on his dick, my tits shaking along with my body as i threw my head back. matt reached my spot, making me arch my back and moan loudly, clenching against his shaft.

“momma i’m-” he said, blue eyes watering.

“babe, be a good boy hold it in for mommy hm? you can do it” i cooed as i kept on riding him, my hands now placed on his chest as i tried to reach my orgasm.

“uhum, yes” matt nodded, grabbing me by my waist and pounding deeper into me.

as i got closer, i couldn’t shut my mouth. i kept on groaning, the knot on my lower belly getting tighter each thrust. “matt, im so close” i cried.

“wan’ inside ma” matt whispered “please, let me cum inside you mommy”

“fuck i-” my own words were cut off by matt filling me up with his release, bringing me to the edge. my whole body trembling, i collapsed over him as i reached my orgasm, completely out of breath.

as we both came from our highs, i heard matt giggling. “what?” i asked.

“nothing” he kept on smiling as i got up, challenging him with my eyes. “don’t make me do that all over again…”

“oh” he laughed, letting me snuggle against his chest. “i'm definitely calling you mammas in public again”.

- ♡ -

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt x y/n #sub!matt #mommy kink #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

103 notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 3 days

Text

favorite things | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ favorite things - drabble one // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: yunho's been having a rough time adjusting to the 'real world' and gets upset when he can't have the person he needs the most right away.

words: 2.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy/insecurities, yuyu is upset and doesn't really know how to control his feelings rn cause he is just a tired boy 😭, a small lil fight, the awkward silent treatment, yuyu and yeo talk thru his feelings for a bit, kissing/making out, sorry if i missed anything i quickly whipped the rest of this in bed lol

a/n: whipped this baby up because i just felt the need to and i missed my babies!! (+ this lil IG inspo hehe) more drabbles to come 🫶🏼 love you in slow motion update this weekend annnnd i’m gonna have to push back the fallen angel hwa fic cause im all over the place 🥹 but we’ll do better!! lol stay tuned!!

Yunho has entered the real world and he is exhausted. When his mom used to joke about living and working in this so-called real world, he used to think it was just a thing to keep him on his toes, shake him up a little bit.

Nope, that shit was all real.

And he hates it.

He hates it because it's the one thing that brings another fight to the table for your relationship. Ultimately, Yunho knows all he has to do is adjust and he'll be fine in the long run. Both of you will be fine in the long run.

But today, that feels like a stretch and he is short of patience. Unusually short of patience than usual. He knows you don't mean any harm but for some odd reason, today he feels like the world is going to swallow him alive and everything is triggering.

The first thing is the fact that he has to stay a bit later than usual to finish up a project he had been working on. He was hoping to rush home and spend some time with you before you were off to practice for the evening, spending 2-3 hours with your friends and the group.

That didn't happen.

So, when he gets home and you've already texted him saying you've left with a sad, crying face, he's bummed. He gets himself comfortable anyway, heating up a cup of ramen since he's not too hungry. Maybe he'll get some food with you when you're out— it's one of his favorite things to do.

Now, the second thing that makes him a little more irked is the fact that 2-3 hours go by and you haven't texted. He knows practice can run long, but it's also a little unusual for you to not keep him updated. You finally do a bit past 8pm with a quick:

you: hi baby, sorry! practice was a bit busy, i was caught up during breaks. i'll be home soon then i'll come over after i shower, okay? wait for me (: we should go on a food run! hehe

yunho: sounds good, love. i'll be here.

It closes to 9pm and Yunho isn't hungry anymore. The cup of ramen will do since there seems to be a dim chance of getting food with you, especially when you tell him you'll be over in a quick second but you’re still nowhere to be found. Yunho charges to the door anyway and is hoping to greet you when he swings the door open. Instead, he's greeted with you laughing and giggling with Hyunjin downstairs in the lot as he hands you a bag of to-go food.

Let's set the record straight— Yunho loves your friends. He knows he can trust them, and he knows they're all genuinely good people. He's always been happy you had a good group of people around you.

It's just today, he really, really missed you. After a long ass day. And he knows you [and Hyunjin] mean no harm in your actions, but he can't help but feel a tad bit insecure [and slightly jealous] that you aren't rushing over to see him after not being with him all day. He knows he can blame this on the fact that he's exhausted and a little short on patience. God knows he really did try to keep it cool and brush it off.

He couldn't help it.

Yunho shuts the door again, leaving it unlocked for whenever you feel ready to come upstairs and hang out with him. He sits on his computer chair, irritated, and throws on a game to distract himself momentarily. Maybe it'll help ease whatever he's feeling,

But, nope.

It doesn't.

Because when you walk in, you're still yelling out to Hyunjin and whoever before you shut the door, place the food on the counter and walk into his room. You throw your arms around him from behind and Yunho lets out a small, audible sigh. That was already alarming enough for you, but you still dip your head to the side and try to grab his attention.

"Hi." You place a quick, chaste quick to his cheek, but Yunho doesn't move.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Is all he says plainly. "I was just waiting for you."

"I know, but Hyunjin stopped by to give us food—"

"I thought we were gonna grab food together?"

"Oh." You frown because it completely slipped your mind, or else, you would've left the food at your own apartment to save it for tomorrow instead. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't think he was gonna swing by with food. We all left each other earlier without any plans of—"

"It's okay." He taps your arms as a signal for you to let go of him. "You should go eat."

"We can share, there's more than enough—"

"All good." It's petty of Yunho, he knows. For him, it's the fact that you told him you wanted to go on a food run after practice. Another small, but meaningful thing you two did often. He doesn't blame Hyunjin for anything at all, no. There was no way of preventing that, and who the fuck was he to make you reject food from a friend?

He just wished he could take you to get food. Watch you order your favorites and do your happy dance in his passenger's seat. It's another one of his favorite things.

"Yunho." You slowly step aside and sit on his bed, your appetite all of a sudden gone from how distant your boyfriend is being. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's fine."

"Is it really? Because something feels off and I wanna know what I did so I can fix it."

"It's nothing, Y/N." You almost flinch at the way he calls you your name instead of his cute endearing nicknames. It throws you off guard so much that you resort to a flimsy, broken:

"Okay." It's barely above a whisper. You stand to head back out to the kitchen, quietly eating a bit of Hyunjin's extra to-go thai food before setting some aside in a tupperware for Yunho and placing it in the fridge. The rest of the night goes.. like that.

In silence. With weird tension.

You hate it.

You wish you could just fix whatever you did wrong, or that Yunho would tell you no matter how 'silly' it may sound. He's always been so good with communicating, even during small disagreements, you weren't sure why he was avoiding it this time around.

You quietly get ready for bed, brushing your teeth and flossing before changing out of your sweats and hoodie to Yunho's shirt. You pad into the room, slipping yourself deep under the sheets and pull up some vlogs on Youtube that you need to catch up on.

"Tired?" Yunho asks from his computer chair, still playing his game.

"Mhm." You look at him, hoping he'd come over to kiss you, cuddle you. Shut off the computer and lay next to you, show you any kind of affection. He doesn't budge, though. You feel your bottom lip trembling, your heart slowly cracking in various places. You have to take a breath to prevent yourself from crying, and Yunho can feel it. He can feel your gaze on him, he can tell you're seconds away from crying. So, Yunho stands and shuts off his computer. But, he starts to head out to the living room and you're on the verge of breaking down. His way of avoiding the issue and getting more upset was to shut down. Deflect.

This wasn't like Yunho at all so you knew something was wrong; something was that bothersome to him.

"Baby." You call for him softly, and he just looks at you. You can tell he's conflicted between keeping this up and dropping it entirely, but it doesn't seem to be enough. It's not enough for him to drop it because his expression doesn't change. He still seems cold, distant. Tired. Unlike the Yunho you're so, so used to seeing and having.

"I'm just tired. Go to sleep."

"Where are you going?"

"The living room."

"Let me come with you."

"Y/N. Please go to sleep. I told you nothing was wrong." You watch the way his jaw slightly ticks before brushing you off completely and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. A loud sigh escapes his lips as he treads to the couch and plops onto it, leaning his head back onto the edge. He shuts his eyes, giving himself some time to sort through his feelings because what the fuck, Jeong Yunho?

He knows this is much needed, though. He needed to step away for a second to regroup. He doesn't want to unintentionally hurt you by saying or doing things that he doesn't mean. He's tired, and he's acting like a fucking baby because he just wanted you at so many points today— yet, the universe just didn't let him have you. That wasn't your fault.

None of this was your fault.

He needed to do better. Just because he was exhausted, didn't mean he had to act this way towards you.

"Yo." Yeosang walks through the door, dropping his duffle bag to the floor as he steps out of his shoes. "You good?" He furrows his brows at the sight of Yunho just resting his head back with his eyes shut close.

"Mhm."

"Where's Y/N?"

"In the room." Odd, Yeosang thinks. It's not like you two to be separated like this. It's pretty obvious Yunho is bothered by something and that you've probably gotten into a small fight over it. Yeosang isn't one to meddle much, especially when it's not his business to. But, he is concerned seeing his roommate like this. It's probably one of the rare times he ever sees Yunho upset.

"You sure everything's okay? I'm not really used to seeing you sitting out in the living room in silence like this." Yunho lets out a tiny chuckle that's barely audible, but he finally turns to Yeosang and purses his lips.

"I guess. Just exhausted lately."

"I bet. You've been working your ass off." Yeosang looks into the fridge before stepping away with a cold water bottle and heading towards Yunho. "Y/N put some food in there for you, by the way."

"Did she?"

"Yeah. It has a little sticky note on top." Of course you did, why wouldn’t you? You always thought about Yunho no matter what.

"Fuck."

"What?"'

"I've been such a dick to her tonight."

"What'd you do?"

"It's so stupid." Yunho begins to explain how his day has just been all over the place— from work, to staying late and not being able to see you before practice, no updates until 3+ hours after practice, looking forward to a food run that didn't end up happening because of Hyunjin. All Yeosang can do is laugh a bit and shake his head.

"Dude, we all have bad days. It's inevitable. You're still adjusting so don't be so hard on yourself. It's hard going from a routine you were so used to, especially with Y/N. Then, having to switch it up and play tetris with your time. It's not easy. But also, I'm sure Y/N has been feeling the same way. She's just doing what she can to support you first and foremost. She'd never hurt you intentionally, and I know she'd always choose you in the end." Yunho's head drops as he leans onto his knees and sighs again.

"Fuck, you're right. I don't know why today was so difficult. I guess it all piled on for me and I didn't know how to sort through it."

"All good. Shit happens." Yeosang shrugs. "Anyway. I'm gonna head to bed. You should probably do the same. I know she's probably waiting for you."

"Thanks." Yeo gives him a little dap before he's off to get comfy and end his day. Yunho stays on the couch for a few more minutes before he brushes his teeth and washes up for bed. He stands in the bathroom for a few more seconds before gaining the courage to finally talk to you about everything that's been going on today. When he walks in, you're still bundled under the sheets, but your phone is against the wall and a video is playing. He can hear you sniffling through the video though, and he knows you've been crying.

God dammit, Yunho.

"Baby?" You hear Yunho softly call your name as he slips into bed and wraps his arms around you.

"Mhm?" You respond, still facing away from him.

"Can we talk?" You sigh and exit the video, locking your phone before turning towards Yunho and setting your phone onto the table.

"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready to."

"I am, and I'm sorry." He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes and it instantly feels like you have your loving, incredibly sweet and attentive boyfriend back.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know. To be honest, I don't have that great of an explanation. I was just tired and I was really looking forward to seeing you before practice. I couldn't see you then because of work, so I was even more excited to see you after practice and to go on our run together. But, you came later and the whole thing with Hyunjin—" He pauses and shakes his head. "It was so stupid and childish of me. I didn't need to act that way, and I'm so sorry I was such a dick to you over that." You cup his cheek and caress the surface with your thumb.

"You should've just told me, babe."

"It's so dumb, though?" He furrows his brows, mainly at himself.

"Nothing is dumb. Whatever hurts you, hurts me. We're in this together, remember? We're on the same team. I just need you to communicate and be honest, like you always tell me. Okay? I'll do anything to fix it and make it better. I'm your safe space like you are mine."

"I know." He leans into your touch before placing a soft kiss to your palm. "I'll do better."

"We have our bad days and that's okay. It won't make me love you any less. Tell me if you need space or if you need anything from me. I want you to be happy and comfortable."

"I know."

"Okay. And I'm sorry about the food run. I promise I'll keep my end of it next time."

"Wasn't your fault, baby. Nothing could have prevented that." You give him a tiny, toothless smile before kissing the tip of his nose.

"Are we okay?" He nods.

"I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He repeats before leaning in to peck you on the lips. He holds the kiss before parting and looking you in the eye, brushing the hair away from your face. He dips in for another kiss— this time, it's deeper. More passionate. His hand comes down to the small of your back as he presses against you, slipping his tongue in to fight for dominance against yours. The kiss is so full of love and neediness, but there's no push or pressure to make anything out of it.

So, Yunho continues to kiss you. Pushing up against you ever so slightly while parting from your lips to leave a trail across your jaw.

Your chin.

Your neck.

Back up to your lips.

He loves the way you softly sigh in content, listening to him repeatedly whisper 'I love you' against your lips. Into your neck. Across your jaw. He loves the way you gently bite onto his bottom lip as a way of asking for more. He loves the way your fingers tug on the ends of his hair, the way you press your lips against his cheek, forehead, nose. The way you caress his cheeks and never let him go.

It's amongst the many on his list of favorite things.

He continues to coo you and praise you in between kisses throughout the night, smiling while hearing your giggles and smothering you with more kisses until you find yourself getting sleepy. He holds you close and sings a soft lullaby, playing with your hair as you drift off to sleep with the cutest smile on your face. He can’t help but admire you, fighting the exhaustion that’s been hitting him all week for a little longer. He fights it until he can’t anymore but fuck it, it’s all worth it.

Because sitting at the very top of his favorites list is you.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

#yunho fanfic #yunho series #jeong yunho series #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez series #ateez x reader #ateez #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez imagines #kpop imagines #yunho fluff #jeong yunho fluff #hwaslayer: project make you love me

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ladylovesloki · 2 days

Text

The Fated Apple

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Language

Summary: You’re in Asgard to witness a ritual for Thor and Jane. Things don’t go as planned.

A/N: This was an idea that was pestering me. If y’all want a part two lmk ☺️

Thanks for reading 💚

“How long is this going to take?”

“It shouldn’t be too long. Idunn will give her blessing, Thor and I will open the chest with the apple and then we go to the celebration.”

You look down at the royal seamstress as she adjusts your gown with raised eyebrow. She looks up at you with a smirk. You knew at that moment this ceremony was going to last a lifetime.

Jane is dressed in a beautiful gown of gold and a deep red. Your seamstress decided to put you in a beautiful flowing gown of various blues.

You’re dressed this way because Jane is about to be the recipient of one of Idunns coveted golden apples. Thor had made it very clear to Odin that he would only rule if Jane was by his side.

Odin agreed to this ceremony because, well from your understanding, Idunn had already informed Frigga an apple would appear during the sacred ritual.

“Explain to me how this is supposed to work?”

Jane rolls her eyes, “Odin will call Thor and I up to his throne, say a few words then he’ll call up the Goddess Idunn. She’ll recite some old enchantment and then she’ll ask Thor and I to open the box holding the apple. If the box opens and there is a golden apple inside then we are meant to be.”

“And if it’s not in there when you open it?”

Jane looks down sadly, “then it will be time for Thor and I to decide how to move forward. With or without each other.”

You place your hand on the seamstress’s shoulder, silently asking her to pause her work. Once she does, you move to Jane and take her hands in yours.

“Everything is gonna be fine sis. You and Thor are going to open that box to a shiny golden apple, your gonna eat that apple and live happily ever after.”

Jane smiles and grasps your hands a little tighter.

“Thank you. I’m so nervous.”

You smile, “don’t be. You look beautiful. Thor is gonna shit when he sees you.”

“Really y/n?”

“What?! He is!”

You give your sisters hand one last squeeze and then go back to the ladies waiting to finish your own look.

“You ain’t looking too bad yourself y/n. You finally gonna find a nice Asgardian man for yourself to marry?”

“Nah. At the end of the week I’ll go back home to my normal boring life. There’s only room for one immortal in this family.”

Jane laughs and for the rest of the night you both make polite conversation with the kind ladies getting you both ready for the evening. You try and keep the silence to a minimum to be sure Jane doesn’t get lost in her thoughts.

About an hour later there is a knock on the door. A guard slowly opens the door.

“Ladies, it is time.”

You hug Jane and feel her shake with anxiety in your arms.

“You’re going to be great. You look beautiful.”

She smiles with tears in her eyes, “thank you y/n. For everything.”

You nod and take her hand to begin your walk to the main hall. Once you get there you are greeted by the biggest pain in your ass.

“Hello Prince Loki.”, you greet dryly.

“Lady Jane, Lady y/n. You both look….acceptable.”

You roll your eyes, “how charming.”

“Oh do not confuse me. I was not trying to be.”

You roll your eyes again and look to Jane.

“Just breathe. I love you. I’m going to be standing right there at the bottom of the steps. You got this.”

Jane takes a deep breath and nods.

The guards open the massive doors to the throne room and announce all of you. Odin and Frigga are already there. Thor is standing at the bottom of the steps waiting for his lady love. Jane looks at you one last time and you give her a sweet confident smile. She walks forward first while you and Loki follow behind her.

Once you get to the steps Thor takes Jane’s hand in his and they slowly walk up to Odin and Frigga. Odin is sitting on his great throne while Frigga stands beside him looking as beautiful as ever in her golden gown.

Once you and Loki get to the steps he immediately bolts to the opposite side as far away from you as possible. Good.

You don’t hate Loki per se. He just annoys the fuck out of you. It’s not a secret he dislikes humans and he’s made it obvious he is against this entire affair between Jane and Thor. But even with all of his issues, his love for his family makes him sort of tolerable. Especially the love he has for his mother.

Don’t fuck with Frigga.

And Frigga loves Jane and above all wants her son to be happy. And Jane makes Thor happy. Much to Loki’s dismay.

You look to Odin who stands to address his people.

“Asgard. You are here today to bare witness to a truly special ceremony. My son Thor has chosen the Lady Jane of Midgard to be his future wife. Your Queen. As you know, Lady Jane’s mortal lifespan will not do for a Queen of Asgard. So we have asked Goddess Idunn to bless us with her presence and most sacred gift. One of her golden apples.”

The crowd begins to murmur with excitement.

Odin holds up his hands to quiet the crowd, “tonight you will see a sacred ritual so rare, so special. It has only been performed once in her glorious lifetime.”

Odin holds his hand out, “Goddess Idunn, if you would. Explain to the people of Asgard what they have the honor of witnessing tonight.”

You turn your attention to the crowd and see the most beautiful woman step forward. Her long golden hair flows past her waist and she’s wearing a gown of the purest white. She looked like an angel. One of her ladies stands behind her holding a small box.

“Thank you Allfather.”, she curtsies low to the ground and rises gracefully.

She turns to the crowd, “it is my honor tonight to perform this ritual. I will say the words meant to reveal a love that is thought to be impossible. Improbable. Fated to fail. But these words, if said in front of a true match of an immortal and a mortal, will grant them a true gift. One of my golden apples of immortality.”

More murmurs rise in the crowd.

“But…if the match is not a true love match. The box will be empty. And the Lady Jane and Prince Thor will have no choice but to move on in their respective worlds. Without each other.”

Even more murmurs.

“The Norns tell me we will not have that result this evening.”

Idunn turns slightly to look over her shoulder to Frigga who smiles and nods at the Goddess.

“We will now begin. Prince Thor, Lady Jane. Please stand in front of me here.”

Thor and Jane both step up a few steps so they are standing directly in front of Idunn.

The lady holding the box next to Idunn hands her the small box.

“Oh sacred Mother. Before us we have a God and a Mortal full of love. A love that is fated to end so soon. If it be true, please bless this union and gift this mortal with life eternal. A life full of love and prosperity. Let is be so.”

Idunn bows her head so her forehead lightly touches the box.

You’re almost lost in the moment and then your hear a heavy sigh. You look over to Loki and see him staring at the ceiling. A look on his face that shows he wishes to be anywhere but here. As if he can feel you staring at him he looks over at you. You give him a pointed look and he just rolls his eyes in response.

Asshole.

Idunn looks at Thor and Jane.

“Prince Thor. Lady Jane. Place your hands on the sacred box.”

They do as instructed. You see Jane’s hand shake slightly as she reaches out.

“When I say, you will both open the box. Together.”

They both nod in understanding.

Idunn places her hand on top of the box and closes her eyes. Once she opens them she removes her hand from and nods at the couple.

“Alright. You may open the box and see what the fates have decided.”

Thor and Jane look at each other and take a deep breath. They look towards the box and at the same time lift the lid.

Empty.

The box is empty.

Frigga and Idunn both gasp from surprise. And you can visibly see Jane’s body tense.

“This is not possible.”, Thor shouts desperately.

“I am sorry My Prince. The fates have decided you and the Lady Jane are not a true match. I am truly sorry.”

“I thought you told my mother you were certain we were a true match!”, Thor reaches out to Jane to steady her.

“I told Queen Frigga that the Norns showed me this box opening with a golden apple sitting in its center with the words a gift for a prince and his mortal whispered in my ear. I did not say you were the ones it was meant for.”

Odin rises from his throne, “who could it possibly be meant for then? We only have one other mortal present.”

All eyes turn to you.

“Oh no. No way. This..that…you can’t possible think…”, you stutter.

“Are you being courted presently by an immortal prince?”, Idunn asks.

“No! No thank you.”

“Child it is not as easy as you seem to believe it is. You are fated to be with an immortal. Very likely one of the princes of Asgard.”

“That’s not necessarily true. It could still be Jane. Maybe she’s fated to be with Loki!”

“I beg your pardon?!”, Loki glares at you.

Odin slashes his hand in front of him to silence you, “enough! Lady y/n. Step forward.”

You look over to Jane who has tears falling down her face. You step up the few steps to her and take her hands in yours again. “I’m so sorry Jane. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be.”

She nods, “I know.”

Jane moves to the side, Frigga moves to take her in her arms.

You look quickly at Thor who has tears in his eyes as well.

“I’m sorry big guy.”

He smiles sadly, “me too.”

“Prince Thor. Lady y/n place your hands on the box and open it together.”, Idunn instructs you both.

“Please be empty. Please be empty. Please be empty.”, you whisper to yourself as you and Thor place your hands on the box. You both lift the lid at the same time.

Empty.

“Yes!!”, you and Thor both exclaim at the same time.

You quickly look to Jane, “see? I told you there was no way.”

“Hold your excitement young one. We still have another Prince.”, Idunn smiles kindly at you.

“No. Absolutely not.”, Loki turns around to start walking out of the throne room.

“Loki!”, Odin’s booming voice stops him dead in his tracks.

Loki turns toward the throne but does not step forward.

“Father, you cannot be serious.”

“Oh I am very serious my son. You will not disrespect the Goddess Idunn or the Norns. If it is true and you are fated to be with one of these mortals then there is nothing you or anyone in this room can do that will change that. Now. Come forward. Thor I’m sorry my son. Truly.”

Thor nods, “it is alright father. It is the will of the Norns.”

Thor steps down and walks over to Frigga, taking Jane from her gentle hold and into his own. He cradles her head against his chest, his large hand gently caressing her hair.

You hold back your own tears, you’re heart broken for your sister.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Loki finally steps up to stand next to you. Standing as far away from you as possible.

“Prince Loki. Lady y/n. Place your hands on this sacred box and reveal your destiny.”

You and Loki look at each other. Both of you shaking from nerves. This is the last thing either of you wanted.

You take a deep breath, Loki does the same. At the same time you lift the lid. And sitting in the middle of the box on a beautiful green cushion…

A golden apple.

The end.

#loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki #loki fanfic #imagine loki #loki god of mischief #marvel loki #tom hiddelston loki #enemies to lovers #fated mates #thor odinson #Thor and Jane #Idunn #golden apples

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quinnysnursery · 2 days

Note

hihi can i pls request cg!matt x little!fem reader where he takes her out for the day?

[🩹] a day with you is a day well-spent | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : cg!matt sturniolo x little!fem!reader

summary : a trip to the craft store with matt teehee

warning/extra tid-bits : use of y/n, honestly i think thats it?

word count : 1,179

divider credit : @yu-nari

a/n : honestly this took me 4 days to write and i hate every sentence of it so be nice (lower case intended!)

“Dada!” You called, rushing downstairs.

Matt looked up from his phone, a worried expression plastering on his face as you raced down the steps. “Hey hey hey, no running on the steps!”” He reminded gently, instantly using his caregiver voice.

You stopped in your tracks, taking the last few steps at a slow pace before rushing to your caregiver. “Dada!” You smiled, falling into his lap. Matt instinctively wrapped his arms around you, “Hi pretty girl, what’s going on?” He answered.

You anxiously looked around before hiding into Matt’s neck, mumbling something out into his skin.

“Hm?” He asked, pushing hair away from your face. “It’s okay angel, I won’t get mad.” He promised. “M’ want to finger-paint…” You mumbled, pulling away from the crook of your caregivers neck to look at him.

“Finger-paint?” Matt asked, smiling. His mind was already flooding with ideas of where to put the artwork.The back of his door was getting pretty full but he could probably squeeze a few more pieces on there.

You nodded with a small “mhm!”. “Alright sweetheart, let's change into play clothes-” You stopped Matt by whining.

“I don’t have finger-paint…” You explained, a pout appearing on your face. Matt let out a small but acknowledging “Ohh..” before falling into thought for a few moments.

“Alright, go get your shoes.” He smiled, clapping his hands together as he gently slid you off his lap and onto the one beside the one he was sitting on. For a split second, Matt internally laughed at how many of his dads traits he saw in his caregiving style.

You looked up at him, slightly puzzled. “Dada…I don’t haaave any.” You reinstated, drawing out your point. He smiled down at you lovingly, his blue eyes full of gentle love.

“I knooow that, baby.” Matt hummed as he searched around the living room for your shoes. “Dada’s gonna take you to go get some.” He explained, picking up your pink converse and bending down to begin putting your shoes on.

You let out an excited squeal, withholding the urge to kick your legs in excitement as to not boot your carer in the face.

When Matt finished lacing up your shoes, you hopped off the couch and took hold of his hand.

This wouldn’t be your first time regressed in public, but it would be the first time since Matt became your long-term caregiver.

Holding your dada’s hand, he led you out the front door, locking it behind him before leading you to the passenger side of his car.

“Can I trust you to be a good girl in the front seat?” He asked cautiously, you nodded enthusiastically.

“I will dada! Pinky pwomise!” You smiled, holding out your pinky. He looped his, carefully opening the door and helping you in before buckling your seatbelt.

Kicking your legs contently, you watched the various different cars on the road and people on the sidewalk as Matt drove through the streets of Los Angeles.

“Doggie!” You squealed, sitting up straight as Matt drove past a golden retriever being walked by his owner. “A doggie?” Matt asked, peering in the rear-view mirror for a split second.

You nodded excitedly, “Mhm! Big doggie!” You giggled.

Finding a parking space was easy enough, you pointed out several that turned out to just be filled with smaller cars or motorcycles before Matt found a space.

“I appreciate the help, baby.” He chuckled before giving you a small kiss on the cheek. He clicked his seatbelt before climbing out the car and jogging over to the passenger side to let you out.

You held onto Matt’s hand as you carefully stepped down from the car, letting him shut the door behind you. “Dada…” You mumbled under your breath, looking worriedly at the entrance of the store.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Matt assured, rubbing your back soothingly. You nodded, sticking close to his side as the two of you walked into the craft-supply store.

Once the two of you found the aisle of kid-safe crafts, Matt bent down slightly to whisper into your ear. “Go ahead, pick anything you want.” He said, nodding towards the paints encouragingly. You let out a gentle gasp, looking at Matt with big eyes.

“Really?” You smiled, a toothy grin appearing on your face. He nodded, “Really.”

Taking a step forward, you began examining a pack of 10 finger-paints. “Dada! It has pink! Like ‘m shoes!” You smiled, being sure to keep your voice down to not disrupt anyone around.

Matt looked at the box, taking interest in the colors. “Like your shoes!” He mimicked, you nodded excitedly.

After looking at a few more boxes, you’d finally settled on the10 pack because well…it had pink.

Matt made sure to pick up some finger-painting paper before walking the two of you to the cash registers.

“Hi! Is this gonna be all today?” The woman asked, you slightly hid behind Matt, waiting for him to answer her.

“Yeah, this is all.” He answered as she began scanning the items.

“I love finger-painting.” The worker commented as she bagged the items, “I do too!” You beamed. The lady looked up, smiling brightly at you. Before she handed the bag to Matt.

Just as you two were about to walk out, the cashier called both of you to stop. “Do you two want some stickers?” She smiled, holding out a handful of stickers in your direction. You bounced over to her excitedly, “Thank you!” You said before quickly returning to Matt’s side.

“That was really nice of her, wasn’t it?” Matt smiled down at you as the two of you walked out the store. You nodded excitedly, “Mhm! Look!” You said, shoving a sticker of a kitten in his face. Matt gaped at the sticker for a few moments before helping you back into the car.

“Do you wanna put a sticker right here?” Matt asked as he buckled his seatbelt, you looked to where he was pointing to find it to be the dashboard of his car.

“Really? I can?” You beamed, looking at your carer with doe eyes. He nodded, putting the car in drive.

Carefully peeling the sticker off its paper, you stuck a medium-sized kitten sticker right on the glovebox. Giggling, you stuck a few smaller ones around it.

“Look dada! ‘s pretty!” You chimed, Matt cautiously glanced over. A bright smile appeared on his face once he saw your sticker-masterpiece.

“That looks so pretty, princess!” He praised, taking one hand off the wheel to brush your hair behind your ear.

When the two of you returned home, Matt quickly helped you change into an old shirt of his and set you up with a piece of paper and every finger-paint container.

Chris would probably ask why Matt had princess and cat stickers on his glove box during the next car video and that was fine by him.

Because sure, maybe Matt had to clean finger-paint off the floor and out of your hair, but a day with you would always be a day well spent.

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