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vanteguccir · 2 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSURPRISE PARTY TOUR: PERIOD CRAMPS * MATT STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N is on her period during the Philadelphia show, but don't want to let her cramps pain take her off of the show, until Matt intervenes.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　Period cramps.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The theater was empty as it awaited the company of thousands of fans.

The huge red velvet curtains were still closed, hiding the stage that would, in just a few hours, be lit up with thousands of lights and the screaming of fans. The empty rows of seats stretched out in front of Y/N as she was curled up right in the middle of it - bottom row, hoodie on, a soft woven blanket pulled up to her chin like a shield.

Her fists clutched the edges of the blanket, knuckles pale. Not because it was cold, but because of the stupid period cramps that had been trying to knock her out since yesterday. Her lower stomach felt like it was being twisted, her body hot one second and shivery the next.

Still, she was there. Watching him.

Matt stood up on stage with Chris and Nick, all three of them moving around like excited kids, playing with the mics, cracking stupid jokes, and messing with the sound crew.

Y/N barely registered Chris doing some cringey announcer voice or Nick yelling at him to stop. Her eyes were locked on Matt.

Matt looked so good it physically hurt. Grey sweatpants hung loosely on his hips, the fabric soft and a little wrinkled from sleep. A white t-shirt barely clung to his frame, his hair all messy, curls a bit matted from the couch nap he’d taken in the green room, and his face puffy in that post-nap way that made him look like the softest thing alive.

And then, his eyes found hers.

From all the way on stage, Matt’s gaze settled right on her. And the second he locked in, that smile - the boyish, sleepy, slightly crooked one that always made her knees weak - stretched across his face.

He didn’t even try to hide how happy he looked to see her.

Y/N’s heart flipped so hard she felt like her whole body shifted a little.

She adjusted her blanket and huddled deeper into it, as if that would dull the pain curling in her stomach. She hated being like this, in pain and helpless. But more than anything, she didn’t wanna bother him. He had a whole show to do.

The sound guy finally gave the thumbs up.

"All good. You're clear to get ready." And just like that, Matt took a step away from the mic.

She tensed. Crap.

He was walking toward her.

She sat up straighter, the most delusional half-sit-up to look like she wasn’t dying. She pulled the blanket slightly lower, tried fixing her face in the most natural way possible - which mostly meant not looking like she was about to cry from cramps -, and tucked her hair behind her ear like that would help anything.

Matt cleared his throat as he dropped into the seat beside her, his whole body radiating warmth like a damn human heater.

His arm draped across the back of her chair, casual but possessive in that way that made her wanna melt. He leaned just close enough that she could smell that clean scent he always had - shampoo and something warm, like cotton and coconut.

She gave in. Shifted just a little and let herself fall into his side.

He didn’t even hesitate, his arm coming around her, locking her in without a word.

"Hey, angel." He said, voice low and soft like she was the only person in the world.

She didn’t answer at first. She was too busy pressing her face against his shoulder, the cotton of his t-shirt cool and grounding against her cheek.

"How y'feeling?" He asked, and she could hear the concern in his voice.

His free hand came up, and the back of his pointer finger grazed her cheek gently. She knew what he was doing, checking how warm she was. His brows knitted together for a second, lips pressing in a little.

She rolled her eyes just the tiniest bit.

"Amazing." She said, dry as hell.

He snorted.

"Yeah?" His smile cracked wide, but his eyes stayed gentle, scanning over her like he could see every ounce of pain. "You look amazing."

His voice dropped soft at the end of that sentence, and he pressed a kiss to her hairline, barely there but everything she needed. She sighed out, a little whimper of frustration getting caught in her throat as she nuzzled deeper into him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just let her hide her face while his fingers laced through hers, his pinky ring and commitment ring cool against her skin. His thumb brushed over her hand, steady, comforting.

"You’re in pain." He mumbled eventually, more like a statement than a question.

She opened her eyes again, tearing them away from the stage where Chris was now fake interviewing Nick. She shook her head in disagreement, slow and stubborn.

Matt just looked at her.

"You are."

She sighed, head falling slightly as her fingers from her free hand clenched together in her lap.

He gave her shoulder a tiny shake, still holding onto her.

"Let’s go back to the bus, yeah? You can lay down in our bed."

She stared at him, torn. Her body was like, YES PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE. But her heart?

"But I wanted to watch the show..." She mumbled. "Wanted to hear your voice." The pout on her lips came out automatically.

Matt let out a soft laugh, standing up and pulling her with him gently.

"You listen to my voice every day, baby. You’ve watched four shows already."

She kept pouting, even as she let him help her to her feet.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I’ll talk for hours when I get back. You want a personal podcast episode just for you?"

She snorted, finally giving in with a small nod.

Chris and Nick paused their mic play, and both gave them a look as they walked close to the stage. Eyes not teasing, just soft. Knowing. Chris gave her a wink, followed by Nick's soft smile.

Matt led her past the side of the stage and through the back entrance, hand never leaving hers.

The second she stepped into the bus, everything smelled like home. Warm. Familiar. The mix of cologne, perfume, laundry detergent, snacks, and that weird scent every bus had - but theirs, somehow, felt right.

He helped her to the bunk area, stopping at the little side table and pulling out her lil pink necessities bag. He placed it gently on the edge of Chris's bed above his, grabbing the small warm pillow she kept in there for cramps. It was one of those little plushie ones - always warm, no idea how.

Matt knelt in front of her and gently lifted her hoodie. His hand was warm as it placed the pillow on her stomach, adjusting it until it laid just right.

She watched him the whole time, her heart swelling at how careful he was.

He tugged the big shared blanket up over her, then placed Mr. Wrinkleton - their shared fake-fluff pug - beside her hip.

Matt leaned in close, hand cradling her face again, and kissed her forehead once more.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart." He whispered. "I’ll be back before you even miss me."

She hummed, eyelids already heavy, the pain a little dulled under his attention.

"I already miss you." She mumbled.

He laughed softly against her skin.

"You’re so dramatic."

909 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

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𐙚 🪷 TRUTH OR DRINK katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

⋆˙ᝰ about ! “you love me, you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me." with the release of your husband's newest album and the announcement for his latest tour, the two of you are invited on set to film a special kind of promotional video for newlyweds. hopefully, this married couple leave without a hangover. ( 4.8K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. sfw, fluff, suggestive, angst if you squint, celebrity!au, all characters are aged up to 20s, mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, drinking, newlyweds, exes, some family issues, long-distance, idol!bakugou, fem + model!reader - not beta read!

aali’s love letter ! happy birthday bakugou! another splendid year for our lord saviour dynamght !! i posted this late boo but its out!! i hope you guys are still able to enjoy <3 ty to @cuntcure for helping out n motivating me !! - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

“fuck, we’re really doing this, huh?”

across from you, katsuki bakugou shifts uncomfortably — ruby red eyes darting around the plain white set. studio lights glare from all directions, illuminating the slight sweat that beads at the blonde’s hairline. artificial lighting, bright and made to capture everything, refracts of the pearling perspiration and almost creates the illusion of a halo around the crown of your partner’s head. almost as if he’s an angel.

reaching over the small table that the producers have set up between you both, you grasp at katsuki’s rough fingers, toying with them as if to test the waters before you hold them fully — once he’s comfortable enough to accept your physical affection. his palms are warm and a little sweaty, but that doesn’t stop you from giving them a gentle squeeze.

“it’ll be fun,” you whisper, keeping your voice low and calm as the production crew continues to contrastingly flit around you in preparation for the shoot. “and it’ll be great promo for your album!” lifting his hands, you press a kiss to the blonde’s knuckles as though you’re sealing a promise, ensuring that they’re not empty. you smile reassuringly and bakugou returns it awkwardly, drawing back just a tad when a member of production sheepishly approaches the table to set down three different bottles of alcohol, two shot glasses and a pitcher of pineapple and coconut juice as your mixer of choice.

glass bottles of whisky, rum, and vodka glit under the white light too.

“we can back out at anytime,” comes your soft reminder once the crew member retreats to check the sound mic and cameras along with some other staff. “i want you to be comfortable.”

bakugou shakes his head, this time, bringing the backs of your hands to his lips — pale blonde lashes fluttering as he shuts away ruby framed eyes and takes a breath to calm himself. “wanna do it. like y’said it’ll be good. fun.” when he opens his eyes again, he’s looking at you with a toothy smirk that never fails to send a shiver down your spine and butterflies in a flurry through your tummy. “besides, we haven’t been able t’do somethin’ like this together in a while.”

nothing beats your grin after that and with a few more touch ups to your make up ( the both of you ) — you’re ready to begin filming.

“okay guys!” the director on set claps their hands. “wanna start us off? who are you and what are you doing here today?”

you give katsuki’s hands one last comforting squeeze before his crimson gaze slinks towards the camera that’s now rolling, fixating on its blinking red light as it matches his stare. “‘m katsuki bakugou ‘nd this is my wife,” he juts his head over to you gently, muttering your name with love laced between each of its syllables.

you too turn to face the camera, award winning smile settling gracefully on your lips. “and today we’re playing truth or drink!” you squirm excitedly. “we’re really happy to be here! thank you for having us!”

“i’m not.”

“katsuki!”

with a laugh behind the camera, the producer speaks again. “so, you’re some pretty special guests. what do you guys do? how long have you two been married?”

bakugou rolls his eyes at the enthusiasm. “i’m a singer-songwriter slash idol or whatever you wanna call it…and i’m on tour right now. so buy my album or you’re shit.”

“and i’m a fashion model slash content creator. we’ve been together for like…five years? married for half a year? a year?” musing out loud, you switch your gaze from the camera to katsuki — letting him know with your eyes that he’s doing a great job.

“eight months, three weeks ‘n two days.” he corrects you seriously, causing sweet laughter to bubble up on your lips.

“sorry, folks. eight months, three weeks and two days.” you retort jokingly. bakugou rolls eyes ruby framed eyes again.

“okay, so still pretty new. let’s start with a shot, shall we?”

ever the gentlemen, your husband pours you a decently sized shot using a drink he knows you like without even asking. he even tops it off with a mixer because he knows that sometimes you can’t get past a bitter aftertaste if the alcohol is too strong. once done with yours, he fills up his own glass before clinking it against yours — both of you knocking back the shot with practised ease.

“god, that shit’s strong.” the pale blonde grimaces.

despite having a facial expression to match, you somehow make light of the situation. “really puts hairs on your chest, doesn’t it, kats?”

“you like my tits naked and juicy, shut the hell up,” smirking cockily, katsuki slides your shot glasses to the side and toys with the stacked white question cards in front of him. “her words not mine.”

“anyways…first card please.”

doing as he’s told, katsuki flips the first card over — skimming the letters written in bold on the other side before he slams it back down. “‘m takin’ a shot.”

the shoot has barely begun and you already find yourself bursting into fits of adoring, amused giggles. “no! it’s not even your question to answer! you have to read it, it’s the first card!” you whine playfully.

“alright, fine,” flipping the card over again with a dejected air about him, bakugou announces the question to both you and the camera. “when was the last time we had sex and where did it happen?”

“oh god.” you pinch your brow.

“told ya. no shots, it’s the first card. y’gotta answer it, babe.” bakugou teases as he casts the card aside, leaning back in his chair slow and sexy like while he watches you hungrily. it’s like making you embarrassed has made him forget that he’s on camera.

sighing through your nose, you pout at the camera and producers who watch eagerly. “on the way here.”

“on the way to this shoot? oh my god!”

“yes! omg. shut up, this is so embarrassing. katsuki don’t laugh!” you practically wail as the set bursts out into laughter. “god, okay. it was on the way here and in the back of the SUV with the partition up. don’t ask me how we had time. katsuki always makes time.”

said katsuki wiggles two fingers towards the camera knowingly and chokes back a raspy chuckle when you frown in response, scooping up your own card. “next question,” your say as your gaze skims the card. “who is your least favourite parent in law? oooh, spicy.”

“definitely her dad,” your husband points a thumb in your direction without hesitation but mouths his words straight into the camera. “you’re a piece of shit by the way.”

the producer pipes in. “can we elaborate?”

“my dad was never the most supportive of my career…but claims everything i have is because of him. it sucks, he's a narcissist and we don’t really speak because of it.” you answer truthfully, attempting to shrug the weight of your familial situation off. you know that most girls dream of having their father walk them down the aisle on their wedding day…but it’s just not in the cards for you. sensing your anger, your hurt and your pain beginning to rise to the surface, katsuki takes the card from you and grasps at your hand — eyebrows raised earnestly into his hairline while he checks to see if you’re okay. a small, wistful smile plays at your lips and you give your partner a gentle nod. “it’s okay though, my mum, mitsuki and masaru have been great parents. katsuki’s mum and dad kept me grounded throughout our engagement, pretty much designed all of my wedding outfits. they were all custom.”

“outfits? as in multiple?”

“ah yes! mitsuki insisted that i had changes throughout the day.” you beam, a giddiness replacing any negative emotion you once felt. your future mother in law had done everything in her power to make you feel like a princess on your wedding day — to this day it made you feel extremely grateful for your positive relationship with bakugou’s family.

“they still fuckin’ spoil her, ma styles her for a lot shoots,” the blonde scoffs but the adoration dancing in the almost brown flecks of his carmine eyes tell a different story. “no seriously, ma ‘n pa love you so much. you’re like the daughter they never had.”

“aw, that’s so cute. i’ll cry.”

katsuki’s turn to pick a card rolls around again, but he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time — index finger toying with your engagement ring. “what’s was the most stressful part about planning a wedding?” he reads. “oh, definitely the micromanaging from other people. shit pissed me off,” your husband answers almost straight away, already preparing to fix himself a shot when the producer asks him to elaborate.

he shakes his head and the producer turns to you. “our managers thought that they could have a say in our ceremony since it was like the celebrity wedding of the year,” shrugging, you fix your own shot which makes your spouse grin. “we ended up having one public and one smaller, private wedding to say fuck ‘em. and no, they didn’t fire me for this.”

“so a follow up, when you announced your engagement to the world what was a difficult thing you dealt with publicly?” someone from behind the camera asks.

pursing your lips, you look to katsuki for an answer. “the fan wars? some of my fans were…are still caught up on my ex and others think the great singer katsuki bakugou is too good for an influencer like me.”

“they don’t know shit. you’re too good for the world baby, i don’t deserve you.”

“corny ass,” you snort directly into the camera’s shot. “i’m sure that’s one of his song lyrics.”

“is fuckin’ not!” bakugou pouts, though he’ll deny that he was later. “pick another damn card.”

he pushes the pile towards you once more and you cheekily swipe one from the middle to make the video a little bit more interesting for those watching from home when it comes out. hopefully the viewers get a laugh out of bakugou calling you a cheater and you sticking your tongue out at him in retaliation — he pinches it back.

“ouch! owie, okay! okay, let go!” flipping the card so that the text is facing you, you begin to read it out loud slowly — nearly bursting out into an incredulous fit of giggles at the question printed in thick black letters. “this is so ironic, baby you’re gonna love this one,” katsuki raises a brow, intrigued by the coy smile you’re barely trying to hide now. “i dare you to call an ex and remind them that you’re happily married.”

a small silence echoes throughout the studio as you stare at one another, waiting and waiting, until a loud, raspy and haughty laugh rips through bakugou’s throat.

“what’s so funny?”

the blonde sat opposite you, still as handsome as the day you first met him — with glittering gem eyes that sparkle under the studio lights and a toothy smile that never fails to melt your heart, suddenly grows shy. a rose tint spreads its way over the bridge of his nose and his cheeks that have lost their youthful roundness, katsuki blushes softly but laughs with his entire body — only just embarrassed by the secret he's about to reveal to his most dedicated fans and the rest of the world.

leaning forward on the table, elbows on the edge, while you tuck your chin in the seat of your palm — biting your lip in amusement. “do you wanna tell them or should i?”

“i wanna take a fuckin’ short first. can i?” katsuki asks, almost innocently. he knocks back a glass of dark, bitter whisky once he gets the go ahead. “she’s my first. my first everythin’. girlfriend, time, wife—“

“i sure hope i’m your first and only wife, kats.” you cut him off swiftly, a mischievous lilt layered thick on your tone.

he slings an arm over the back of his chair, waving you off lovingly. “—you know what i mean, sweets.” bakugou shrugs in the direction of the producers. “i don’t have an ex to call.”

“okay, we’ll have your wife call one.”

at the film crew’s suggestion, your voice raises an octave, notes of surprise littered through out your melodic voice. “me? who would i even call?” you can’t help but snicker, trying to reach for the juice used for mixer so you can plan your escape route out of the dare.

your husband snatches the bottle from your reach, holding it protectively against his broad chest. “call shindou.” he grunts out low but highly amused.

“oh no, i’m not doing that. let me take the shot katsuki.” comes your instant response, tone turning slightly serious.

“who’s shindou?”

“her ex.”

“my ex.”

the both of you announce in unison, though you’re a little less entertained by your menace of a blonde husband — still guarding the drinks as he chucks the used question card to the side.

“why not?”

“cause it’ll be mean? he still hasn’t recovered from finding out i’m dating the idol he used to train with. yanno, the one who debuted over him.”

bakugou clicks his tongue cockily. “he’ll get over it. call him. c’mon, it’ll be funny and you love making me laugh.”

“alright fine but you have to swear you’ll answer the next one.” you turn to the camera. “he’s right though, his laugh is the prettiest in the world.”

bakugou blushes as you pull out your phone and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, surprised at yourself for not blocking and deleting the number. holding up the sleek device for everyone to view, you jab a thumb into the speaker button and watch with baited breath as it begins to ring throughout the studio.

“hello, yo speakin’,” a voice a little higher pitched than your husband’s filters through the speaker. it’s familiar, but doesn’t hold any of the comfort that bakugou brings. it’s been years since you ended things with your ex, the relationship was rocky and full of miscommunications and mistrusts before either of you skyrocketed to fame. there’s no malice between you both or a reason to cause katsuki why worry, you hope, but talking to yo shindou nowadays is akin to talking to a stranger.

giving the camera an awkward thumbs up, you reply shyly. “hi shin, what’s up?”

“oh hey sweetheart, this is a nice suprise.” your ex purrs through the line. you click the buttons side of your phone to turn up the volume — making sure his every word is picked up by the mics in the room.

bakugou chimes in, clearly looking for an opportunity to show off. “hey asshole, don’t get too excited.”

“hello to you too kats, what can i do you for princess?”

“shin, don’t call me that. also we’re shooting truth or drink right now — newlyweds edition with kats. they wanted me to call, tell you i’m married or something… which i’m sure you know by now.” explaining in a rush, you push at bakugou’s forehead, right between arched, dark blonde brows to keep him and his laughter at bay.

“it’s all anyone can talk about these days, especially when i’m on set. married couple of the year.”

the producers mouth to you to ask shindou a question, in which you almost miss underneath the sounds of your newlywed husband suppressing snarky jokes and giggles. “they’re telling me to ask you if you’re happy for me ‘n kats. you don’t have to answer—“

“i am. happy for you. katsuki, as big as of an asshole as he is, makes you way fucking happier than i ever did. he’s good to you, but you’re better to him. the world wants to see you guys grow old together… i hope it stays that way or else i’ll have to swoop back in—“

cringing along the millions that will be watching in the near future, you slice through his words politely before bakugou can blow a gasket. “thanks, shin. you’re sweet.”

“anything for you, sweetcheeks—“

“alright, alright. you’re pushin’ it now, freak. r’member i’m the one clapping these sweet cheeks and i’ll always be a better fuck than you—“ abruptly, your newfound husband snatches up your phone — growling possessively down the line as if to ward your ex off.

“okaybyethankyou!” squealing you hang up the phone and breathe a heavy sigh of relief, head banging on the table in front of you as you try to hide your flustered face. “that went better than expected.”

the blonde before you shrugs nonchalantly as if he wasn’t seconds away from reaching into the phone and tearing shindou’s head from between his shoulders. “i do love an opportunity to show you off, rub our marriage in people’s faces.” alas, he pours you both a shot, adding a mixer to yours, sort of as a reward for making it through the call. “kay, next card,” he swipes one from the top of the pile once more, carefully murmuring its contents into the studio’s cool air. “can the both of you name one person you would have invited into your marital bedroom on your wedding night? see if you’re both thinking of the same person. easy. on three?”

“sure! one, two—“ you count, the temperature of the room raising as it awaits your big reveal. “kirishima.”

“kirishima.” katsuki says at the same time before smirking cockily at the film crew. “next!”

you join him just as your foot flirtatious slides up his leg from underneath the table. “kats says eijirou is packin’, by the way.” your husband’s smile fades into an embarrassed look, everyone in the room laughing along with you. of course he’s seen it. of course you’ve talked about this before. “anyway, my turn! most romantic thing i’ve ever done for you? c’mon now kats, you can think of something. i’m pretty sweet.”

reaching for your hand for the nth time during the shoot, bakugou laces his fingers with yours — decadent dark red eyes instantly drawn to the big rock on your engagement ring and the simple gold wedding band that sits above it as he recalls everything you’ve ever done for him. every gesture; every text, every act of physical touch or service. it would be hard to choose just one romantic thing.

the silence as he ponders almost fills you with dread, a nervousness fluttering about in your chest like a butterfly whose wings are beginning to fail them. they’d have to edit this part out if he couldn’t think of anything.

but then, those plush pink lips that kiss you and call for you, part gently and a soft sentiment escape’s from between them. “you love me,” is all bakugou can say, eyes wide and genuine. “you take care of me. that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done f'me…and, if we’re talkin’ specifics, you remember that time just before my album came out? before our wedding? i was fuckin’ stressed ‘n i was always locked up in the studio, trying to figure out the track list, the final song…”

you nod slowly, exhaling deeply through your nose. “yeah?” the background noise from the crew, cameras and mics wither away until it’s just yourself and bakugou in the room — holding hands as though you’re one another’s life lines.

“it was three am ‘n you were in another city for a shoot but…you still made the drive over to have dinner with me. to make sure i ate,” the tip of katsuki’s rough and calloused thumb brushes over the bumps formed by your knuckles. “just to help me run through things even though i was freakin’ the fuck out and you had a flight to milan the next day. you ate with me and that meant a lot.” he seems wistful as he talks, forgetting that the world will be able to see his heart beating all tender like when the cameras are put away and the footage is polished up.

perhaps he doesn’t care if the world sees him being so vulnerable with the woman he loves on screen. they’ll usually find such openness hidden between the lyrics of his songs. so, perhaps it’s the little alcohol running through his system. nevertheless, quiet love and appreciation seeps from katsuki bakugou’s pours into the quiet atmosphere of the set, the emotions crash over you in waves that you welcome — almost reducing you to tears brewed just for him.

“you asshole,” you sniff, lacking all the spite the insulting nickname carries. “i didn’t think that night meant so much to you… i just wanted to see my baby. wanted to make sure you were okay.”

cocking his head to the side fondly, the blonde singer uses the back of his hand to wipe at your free falling tears you hadn’t realised were there. bakugou doesn’t let go of you the entire time. “don’t cry sweets, you know i hate t’see you cry.”

watery laughter bubbles up on the seam of your lips. “don’t tell me what to do,”

“you said she drove from another city, would you guys say that distance made things difficult for you?”

“sometimes,” you answer the director truthfully. “while we were engaged we’d plan our wedding across different time zones. when i was awake walking for fashion week he was sleeping in his studio making songs.” you explain, looking to katsuki to confirm.

he nods along with another squeeze of your hand. “it was hard yeah, but we got through it. now she has my ring on her finger ‘n she’s stuck with me.”

“send help.” you mouth to the camera.

resuming the game, you snatch up a card and secretly hope that the question is a little more light hearted than the previous. “has my line of work ever made you jealous? oooh, good one,” adding the card to the ones already discarded, you squirm in your seat — excited to know your husband’s answer. “no shots! i want you sober and honest.”

“i’ve hardly had anythin’ to drink!” katsuki snorts. “what’s the sayin’? a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts? let me have something.”

“no! i want sober words and sober thoughts, that’s the aim of the game, stink.”

katsuki rolls his eyes so hard you fear they might drop out of his skull. “spoiled brat,” he mumbles begrudgingly, sucking his teeth. “okay before anyone says anythin’, i’m a secure guy. i trust and value my girl’s word above anyone else’s. i love seein’ her on billboards in every country i visit, on magazines at every airport I’ve ever flown from…”

“it feels like there’s a but coming.”

“wait for it…” you hum gleefully.

“but i hate that one cover shoot you did with that nerd, izuku, for vogue. that’s it. never do that shit again.” bakugou finishes, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child.

nearly leaping out of your seat, you point at your husband — bewildered. “i knew it! you said it didn’t bother you!”

“of course it did! he had his grubby arms wrapped around you! he stinks.”

“you did not just call izuku stinky, he’s got a feature on your album!”

“his feature can kiss my ass,” you know that bakugou is only half serious, the two have written some beautiful songs together and the cover hardly meant anything — izuku models from time to time as well. it just so happens you also work for the same brands. “my turn again, rate my proposal on a scale of one to ten. how good did i do?”

“nine point five.” you nod assertively, speaking to your audience with love bursting through your heart. “he proposed to me at his first sold out concert, like literally stopped singing and apologised to all of his fans because he had something important to say. that’s when he asked me, in front of his entire world. kats’ is real private so it meant so much to me…”

the blonde leans back in his seat but brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss directly to your wedding rings. “only nine point five? cheeky fucker.”

“it’s only ‘cause your genius-self decided to chuck my ring into the crowd?” you scoff.

“oi! i have good aim, you’re just shit at catchin’ things!” katsuki scoffs back, nudging you with his foot under the table.

“back to the game love birds.”

the two of you put your playful little spat on the back burner and you grasp the next card. “how many years into our our marriage do you think we’ll stop having sex—?”

“never,” katsuki cuts you off, looking directly into the lense as he jabs a thumb in your direction. “i can’t ever get her off my cock. she’s fuckin’ insane.”

heat flares up underneath the surface of your skin in embarrassment. “fuck you.”

“right after this shoot, sweetheart.” he winks right back at you before nodding down at the cards. “last two, yeah? did your life turn out as expected?”

chewing on your bottom lip, you give the question some thought. life has an unpredictable nature, no matter who you are or where you come from. if someone had told you a year into your college degree, that you’d be in front of sorts of cameras as a profession for the rest of your life — you wouldn’t have believed them. if someone had told you that you’d find the love of your life shortly after, you would have called them a liar too. your past has been heavy, a dark cloud you never thought you’d be able to escape — hauntingly daunting.

and even though you know that it’s a burden to place the weight of your happiness on someone else’s shoulders — but you know that katsuki has always been your golden, blinding light at the end of the tunnel. he’s something you never expected, but someone you entirely deserve after everything life has thrown at you.

“no, it hasn’t,” you whisper softly, ever so slightly distinct. your lover leans in, watching you curiously from over stacked question cards and bottles of barely touched alcohol. “i never expected to be so famous so young, that a silly little dream of mine could come true. that i never expected, i still can’t believe it…but, it’s like… meeting you. falling in love with you, on top of all that? it’s like i was destined to be with you, kats. you’re my soulmate. i knew that from the start.”

just like you earlier, emotion wells up inside katsuki. it breaches the cavity of his chest, slows down the rate of his heart and lungs and brings a slight shine to his beautiful blood red eyes. he sniffs but doesn’t dare look away from you — reading deep into your soul despite knowing the pages of it off by heart. “i feel the same,” he mumbles, reaching over to cup your face even with all of the cameras around. “i never expected to go on tour, sell albums and make music…but i feel like my heart always knew you were waitin’ for me.” quietness fills the space between the two of you, neither of you needing to say much. you cup the wrist of his hand that touched your face, leaning into his palm and pressing a kiss to it. “we’re so fuckin’ corny.”

“you love it.” you reply instantly. “i love you.”

“see?” katsuki asks the production crew as he draws the last card for both of you — holding it out for you to read. “cornball.”

“it’s cute! she’s cute and corny!”

“what about the rest of our marriage do you look forward to most?” since the video shoot is coming to an end, and you hardly want to cry any more, you both decide to make your answers short and sweet. “i look forward to spending forever by your side, taking over the world one continent at a time.” you gush, meaning every single word, smiling adoringly.

“ditto, can’t wait to grow old with you, brat.” bakugou mirrors your expression and finally, finally ends the shoot by pressing the ghost of a kiss to your awaiting lips. you feel warm knowing how comfortable he’s grown over the course of filming, even more so at all of the truths he’s given you tonight.

“that’s a wrap! thank you so much guys!”

katsuki salutes the camera, finishing up for you. “we’ve been the bakugous playin’ truth or drink. buy my album, see me on tour, buy a magazine with my wife’s beautiful face on it. like and subscribe.” all the while, you reflect on everything that you’ve learned about your husband whilst filming — that he loves you a lot more than he lets on, that you have his heart for all of eternity, that nothing in this world and cause his love for you to waver,

and as your matching wedding bands continue to gleam beneath the dimming studio lights, you only hope that he knows that you feel the exact same way about loving him too.

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psformybss · 2 months ago

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could u please do a fic about drew and reader on their honeymoon? or just something newlywed 🩶

Just Us and the Sea

series masterlist

warnings: fluff, implied intimacy, soft teasing, beach setting, domestic vibes

an: anon, thank you for the request. i loved this idea! i know you said reader but i wrote it for my secret fiancee!reader since i already had a little outline of something like what you requested written for it. i hope you like it!

The ocean didn’t make a sound at sunrise—it breathed.

A low tide, lapping gently at the sand like a secret being whispered, framed their private villa with a hush that felt holy. Pale gold light spilled across the bed like a blessing, catching the curve of her bare shoulder as she stirred beneath the linen sheet. One arm stretched across the mattress lazily, fingers grazing skin and heat and—

“Mmmph,” Drew murmured, still half-asleep, dragging her hand up to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles. “That tickles.”

“You drooled on my arm,” she whispered, lips brushing against his jaw.

“Worth it.”

She laughed under her breath, soft and sleepy, and burrowed closer, burying her face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like sun and salt and a trace of last night’s coconut lotion. Warm. Familiar. Hers.

Outside, the water glittered in early light. Inside, it was slow smiles and tangled legs and the sound of sheets rustling when she climbed over him to steal the last pillow.

“You’re such a brat,” he mumbled, voice hoarse.

“You love it,” she said, smug.

And he did. He really, really did.

By late morning, they were walking barefoot down the beach, the sun high and warm and the breeze threading through her cover-up. Her fingers looped lazily through his, their joined hands swinging gently between them.

“Left or right?” he asked, pointing where the shoreline curved around a collection of rocks.

“Whichever way leads to more seashells.”

He grinned. “A woman with priorities.”

“Don’t act like you’re not gonna try to find the perfect one just to show me up.”

“Wrong,” he said, already scanning the ground. “I’m gonna find the perfect one and give it to you.”

Her heart did that annoying little flip thing it always did when he said something stupidly sweet without realizing it. And then, a beat later, he tripped over a piece of driftwood and muttered, “Shit,” which made her laugh so hard she nearly doubled over.

They kept walking, stopping every few minutes to point at little fish darting through the shallows or to press their foreheads together without saying anything at all.

The next day, they went snorkeling just past the reef. She adjusted her mask and flippers on the edge of the dock, legs swinging while he fumbled with the strap of his goggles.

“Babe,” she said, nudging his arm. “You’re putting them on upside down.”

He looked up, squinting. “No I’m not.”

“You look like a confused seal.”

“Say it again and I’m dunking you.”

She grinned. “Promises, promises.”

In the water, everything felt lighter. Fish shimmered below them in flashes of electric blue and soft coral pink, darting through sea fans and swaying weeds. She surfaced first, pushing her hair back with one hand, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

“Tell me that wasn’t amazing,” she gasped, climbing back onto the floating dock.

Drew surfaced beside her, dragging himself up to sit beside her, dripping wet and breathless. “That was insane. I saw, like, twelve Dorys.”

She gave him a look. “That’s the scientific term?”

“Definitely.”

They laid back on the dock and let the sun dry them, hands brushing between them until one of them finally gave in and laced their fingers together again.

That night, the breeze carried the smell of grilled pineapple and wood smoke through the open windows. She lit a few candles around the room while Drew flipped through songs on his phone, both of them still sticky from the ocean and glowing from the sun.

When she came out of the bathroom in one of his t-shirts and nothing else, he looked up from the bed, one brow lifted.

“You’re not playing fair,” he said, sitting up.

“I didn’t know we were playing.”

He tugged her closer by the hem of the shirt, knuckles brushing her thighs, his touch slow and reverent. “Pretty sure you did.”

She settled onto his lap with a grin that ghosted across his mouth before she kissed him. Soft and slow at first. Familiar. Then deeper, as the air grew thicker between them. His hands mapped the lines of her back like muscle memory, hers threaded into his hair, both of them melting into the hush and heat of the moment.

Later, she lay curled against him, his hand warm and slow against her spine, her heartbeat echoing into his chest.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple.

“Why not?”

“I like you like this. All soft and clingy.”

“I’m literally always like this.”

“Exactly.”

On their last evening, the sun dipped low over the ocean, staining the water in streaks of amber and honey. They sat wrapped in a blanket on the daybed outside, legs tangled, wine half-finished on the table beside them. Her cheek rested against his collarbone, eyes heavy-lidded, skin warm from hours spent under the sun.

“Do we have to go home?” she asked quietly.

“Eventually,” he said, “but not yet.”

She nodded, barely moving. The light flickered in her eyes like something holy.

“I like it here,” she whispered.

He kissed her hair. “Me too.”

Not because of the view. Not because of the water or the food or the quiet.

But because it was them, just them, in a world that for once asked nothing of them at all.

And here, wrapped in sunlight and sea air and each other, that was more than enough.

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x secret fiancee!reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey obx #drew starkey outer banks #hidden vows

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missmimii · 1 year ago

Text

✪ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓- 𝐂~𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - In which the two ex high-school sweethearts cross paths in their final night in Las Vegas, tension from their pasts building as they make the last night the most memorable.

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, dom!matt, fem!reader, smut, language, public(kinda?) dirty talk, light degradation, pet names, teasing, light fluff, risky sexual encounter, fingering, detailed intercourse.

✩－ℳ𝒾𝓂𝒿’𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉ℯ | I’m not a huge fan of this, and I’m still working on improving my smut, but it’ll have to surface because if I have to edit this one more time, I’ll probably die.

୨ৎ －Graduating Class of 2021 －୨ৎ

✰－ Since kindergarten Y/n had dreamt of the day she officially entered adulthood. She found the idea of being bossed around by adults had been overwhelming, and being bribed into eating green vegetables that looked disgusting, was unethical. In the little girls head, being an adult was being free. And freedom to Y/n, was graduating high-school.

－ Never once did the girl think she’d find herself filled with more joy seeing a boy cross the stage, more than herself. But here she was, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks dramatically as she watched the brunette boy cross the stage. Chris shook hands with the grey haired man before gently taking his diploma, holding up the certificate proudly.

✰－ The blue cap that rested atop his head of tousled hair slid down every now and then, making the triplet’s hand fly up to steady the awkward position. Y/n had resisted the urge to giggle every time she saw the pink tint his cheeks, knowing exactly what the shyness had been stemming from. God, he was so pissed about wearing the gown.

－ She laughed over the tears, sniffling as she watched him awkwardly smile toward the crowd of parents. “Your boyfriend is such a dork, Y/n.” Nick, who stood aside the girl snorted, saying the silly remark as if it wasn’t his little brother. Seconds before Chris had stepped onto the stage, Y/n had walked across. She’d been practicing that damn walk for months, keeping her posture perfect as she smiled and waved with etiquette.

✰－ And during the full 43 seconds she stood on the podium, Chris watched from the crowd, waving his two hands in the air while grinning like a fool. “That’s my girlfriend!” He screamed, numerous times. The girl, not being one for the spotlight, slouched in the centre of attention, her cheeks flushing.

－Nick leaned back on the bench beside her, eyeing up his triplet with a mischievous glint his eyes. Y/n looked at the eldest brother for a second, giving a second glance as she caught sight of the smirk on his lips. “What’s the look?” She inquired, her own lips tipping up slightly. He shrugged, grinning as he stood up from the bench, making the girls eyes widen. “Nick,” She warned, reaching out to grab his hand.

✰－ “That’s Y/n’s boyfriend!” He shouted in between laughs, making the girls jar drop open. “Oh my god, Nick!” She attempted to pull him down into a sitting position through laughs, eventually giving up as she realized he wasn’t budging. Chris’s cheeks almost immediately reddened, eyes darting throughout the large crowd of people, now staring at him.

－Chris’s hat, once again, slipped from his head. “Shit,” he cursed to himself, catching it before it fell. The grey haired man who stood beside him gaped at the foul language, making Chris’s face pale. Oh he was so dead. The triplet’s eyes roamed the crowd, prepared to send a glare to eldest, but instead was met with her.

✰－ He watched as her knees bent as she laughed, one hand gripping Nick’s as the two laughed at the scene he’d caused. Her hair blew flawlessly in the wind, and he swore he could almost smell the coconut aroma it carried. It suddenly occurred to him that the girl he once lamely asked out in freshman year, wasn’t the same as the one he gazed at now. She’d grew a full foot, the god awful jaw length haircut, now grown into wavy tendrils that swayed below her shoulders.

－And him. Chris had even changed. His heart fell with an unsettling emotion as he realized time had flown by, memories of the past seemingly vanished. The buzz-cut he constantly sported had now grown out into its thick brown tendrils, and he even had a job. Chris’s eyes glazed over with tears, that he at first fought back, but failed beautifully. He wasn’t a kid anymore. And she wasn’t the same girl he fell in love with as children, now matured into a perfect young woman.

✰－Chris felt the principal pat his shoulder and say something that went deaf to the boys ears. “You’re set, Sturniolo.” But he wasn’t done. The males hand rose to shield the crowd from his sensitive state, index and middle finger rubbing his one eye as he felt tears coat his lower lash line.

－Y/n watched the boy’s head lower, as well as the motion of his chest moving up and down increase in pace. Oh. She could’ve spotted the body language of his anywhere, the mannerisms he carried looking awfully close to the ones he’d use when overwhelmed or upset. “Sorry, sorry.” She whispered to a few parents as she slipped past them through the rows of bleachers, aiming straight the short steps at the end of the stadium.

✰－“Baby,” she breathed out softly, a sympathetic smile on her lips as she stood at the last step. Chris silently wiped the wetness away as he met her at the last stair. “what’s wrong?” Her hand reached out to carefully remove the graduation cap from his trembling palm.

－Getting on her tippy toes, the girl threaded her one hand through his disheveled locks, pushing the brown strands away from his lashes. The sweet touch, that was meant to soothe the boy, did the exact opposite. More tears threatened to fall as he felt her nails scrape against his scalp comfortably, knowing it would be the one of the last times he’d feel it. “Are these happy tears?” She murmured in an undertone, tilting her head up at him.

✰－ Again, he just shook his head, knowing that if he were to speak he’d end up a blubbering mess. Chris pressed the ends of his index finger and thumb into the corners of his eyes, praying his girlfriend wouldn’t have to see him so fucking weak.

－A part of the girl’s heart tore off as she saw the pink in his eyes, the glaze of water that coated both of them as he avoided eye contact. “Awh, baby.” She cooed softly, using her thumb to swipe away the pool of tears just below his lower lash line. Chris kept on shaking his head, over and over. She didn’t understand quite why, watching as he continued to repeat the action.

✰－It didn’t matter to her though, she just wanted Chris to know she was there. “I’m such a fuckin’ loser.” Chris scoffed to himself, lips quirking up as his chest shook with a few laughs. His blue eyes looked heavenward for a moment, before the slid back down to his girlfriend. “will you marry me?” He blurted out.

－The girls mouth went ajar as she let Chris’s hand fall from her own. “Sorry- what?” Chris spotted the horror on her face, making him instantly reach out of cup her cheeks. “hey- not like now,” the triplet rushed out, pulling her closer. “I just saw you in the crowd and I realized how fast everything went by- yesterday we were seniors in high school and now you’re leaving for college while I- do other things.” What?

✰－“wait- what do you mean?” She shook her head, face scrunched with confusion. Chris’s shoulders dropped with a sigh, before he tugged her closer once more. His lips pressed against hers softly, a far contrast between the usual quick and meaningless ones he’d give her passing in the halls of school. More tears threaten to fall as he squeezed his eyes shut, his thumb moving back and forth against the side of her cheek as he finally pulled away.

－Resting his forehead against hers, “I don’t think I could ever live a life that’s not with you.” Chris whispered, lips flushed as he ran his tongue along the bottom one. Y/n looked into his eyes for a solid ten seconds, throat bobbing as she took in his words.

“Marry me? Someday, today, tomorrow? Hell- marry me three years from now.”

✪ Current year － Vegas, Nevada ✪

✪ The girls arms rested on the cold island countertop, grimacing at the sticky feeling of of spilled alcohol under her forearms. “Jesus.” She mumbled to herself, looking around discreetly while reaching a hand down to tug the skirt further down, desperate for some kind of extra coverage.

－How short does a skirt have to be until it’s considered a belt?

✪ Y/n rolled her eyes, sensing that the material hadn’t covered much more from the attempt. An orange hue lit the venue, the aroma of heavy liquor and cigar smoke engulfing the girl’s nose. Jewels from chandeliers above glimmered along the ceiling, reflecting against the crystal glasses behind the bar.

－ The girl had been standing in the exact same spot for over twenty minutes, making her feel the lamest she could ever imagine. She was at a wedding for goodness sake. Everyone was mingling around, dancing, before sneaking off to throw back a few shots to numb the embarrassment of their god awful moves.

✪ And then there was Y/n. Swirling a cocktail straw around her strawberry daiquiri while her thoughts drifted off into space. How is it that everyone here knows everyone else? It was as if they’d gotten together prior to the ceremony and told each other their life story’s. Conversing, dancing － taking shots off of each other’s midriffs.

－ “You’ve been sitting here for a while,” Her head rose with widened eyes as the blonde bartender approached from behind the counter, throwing a small towel over his shoulder. “could I pour ya’ anything else?” Even this guy knows I’m a poor excuse for a wedding guest.

✪ Clearing her throat, she sat up further in the barstool. “Uh- I’m alright.” The girl past off, sending him a small smile. He nodded, waving his hand in the way of her forearms. “Do you mind..” he rose a brow. The girl looked at him for a few seconds, before the stupid little lightbulb in her head practically shattered. “Oh.” She mumbled, moving her arms from the counter as he swiped a cloth across the surface.

－In the girl’s short experience, she’d gathered that Vegas wasn’t what people had raved about. Sure, it had its spark, and she’d be a liar to say she wasn’t having fun, but it wasn’t … it. She’d spent far too much money on poker, encounter many Elvis impersonators, and got into lots of drunk escapades.

✪ And her excuse was always the same thing. It’s Vegas. When she got cuffed behind a Sephora for dumpster diving for the shoes she’d accidentally tossed in, it’s Vegas she told the officers. When her friend poured a glass of rum & coke on a douche who was hitting on her, it’s fucking Vegas.

－ And she had to give it to the newlyweds, the wedding was absolutely gorgeous.

✪ Y/n tipped back the remaining liquid in her class, humming to herself softly as she swirled an ice cube around her tongue. “Thank you for enduring me during these last few hours.” The girl mumbled mostly to herself, sliding the glass back onto the marble countertop. Her Saint Laurent heels scraped the backs of her ankles irritably, a painful contrast the usual air forces she’d sport on a regular basis. Rose petals sticking to the pointed backs of the black shoes as she stalked across the venue, cursing to herself while adjusting the slim fitting top that hugged her chest.

－ How am I even breathing? She pondered to herself.

✪ She made her way to the closest exit, pushing the door open as she stumbled in her heels. “Holy.” Making a soft thud behind her, the door slowly closed behind her as she leaned against the concrete wall. The brightness of her phone screen illuminated against her face as she held her finger on the power button.

－ Stay on task. 12:38 AM, she read across the screen, eyes widening. “I’ve been here for six hours?” Jesus. Her thumb swiped up on the screen, showing the icon to type in her passcode after Face ID had declined due to the darkness outdoors.

✪ She watched as dozens upon dozens of messages popped down the top of her screen, all from Alyssa, a friend who was also attending the wedding with Y/n. Where are you?, Are you dead?, answer me. Most of the messages contained the same wording, the last one catching the girl’s attention. Holy shit

－ The girls eyes flew open as she read the hoards of texts, Alyssa, a childhood friend of Y/n’s, sending text after text. Most of which containing the same context. Where are you?, are you dead?, answer me. It wasn’t until Y/n read the last message that she felt her jaw drop, as well as her heart.

‘Chris fucking Sturniolo just walked past me and Leah’

✪ The name had trouble written all over it, memories from the past revealing themselves in the girls head as she realized that she was in the same city as him. It had been at least three years since she’d faced the boy, the period of time not nearly long enough.

－ Her skin ached as she remembered the faint of his touch, remembering every single inch of her body that he grazed his sinful hands upon before the fallout. The freckle neck to her left eye, his lips pressed against the beauty mark below her lip, his one hand shakily gliding up her pink camisole while the other drifted below the lace of her first thong. The whispered apologies against her neck as she came undone below him.

‘I’m so sorry’

✪ Y/n inhaled with a shiver, a pit building in her stomach as she fought both arousal and pain. Tears begged to fall as she leaned off the brick wall, brushing the hairs that had fallen from her ponytail from her cheeks. “Shit.” She whispered, voice wavering as she stared at the door. Do I even go back in?

－ She suddenly remembered the gift she had for the bride, the small box with diamond earrings lying in the girls purse. Fuck me. Her hand gripped the door handle, softly shoving it open before briskly stepping onto the marble flooring. Music still played throughout the huge venue, few people dancing along to an oldie.

✪ Dizziness clouded her vision as she walked past many tall brown haired men, knowing that one of them is －or could be him. was this affecting her so damn much? It’d been years, years that should’ve been filled with healing and forgiveness.

Either of which never took place, the void of him filled with resentment and hatred.

－ Her chest tightened from both the top she wore, and the stress of her current dilemma. Fuck everything, fuck me and fuck Christopher Sturniolo － “Jesus!” The girl gasped and stumbled as she slammed into a hard chest, her phone clattering to the ground with a crack. “no, no no －” she bent down, brushing her hair from her face in frustration as she reached to grab her now shattered phone.

✪ A grunt was heard from behind her, before a deeper voice spoke in a quieter octave. “Y/n －stand up.” That voice .. Y/n’s entire body froze, doing the exact opposite of the man’s demand as she felt her skin go ice cold with goosebumps. You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

－ Chris’s hand twitched in the pocket of his slacks, before slipping from the fabric and tugging at his tie. It was merely a gesture to help him from grabbing the girl by her hips, forcing her body upright so he wouldn’t have walk around all night, hot and bothered as he fought the memories of her bent over, ass slipping from the obscenely short skirt.

God, he needed to repent.

✪ The girl winced as she swiped her phone from the ground, shards of glass prickling her palm as she stood. “What’re you, following me?” Y/n grumbled, spinning around with a glare plastered across her face. Chris’s eyes narrowed at the accusation. She’s .. changed. Running a hand across his jaw, he replied after taking in her inquiry. “Cocky of you to assume I’d pay that much mind on you.” He murmured, lifting a brow.

－ Y/n’s mouth fell open at his words, hating how the distasteful remark made her feel. Who the hell does he think he is? The girl’s jaw rolled as she looked away, holding in the scoff that sat on the tip of her tongue. “I’m not cocky, I’m correct.” Both of his eyebrows rose at her words, but failed to reply as she stormed past him, her shoulder slamming against his. Feisty, he thought, the grin of amusement growing.

✪ Chris’s impulsive part of his brain blurred between the critical thought process, anger filling his chest as he turn around. “Running away like usual?” He said before she made it any it further. Y/n halted, jaw clenching as well as her fists as the words registered in her head. Sucking in a deep breath, she slowly turned back to the male. His eyes widened slightly as she stalked back toward him, daggers thrown his way.

－ Oh－ her hand gripped his yellow tie as she appeared in front of him, tugging the fabric with a harsh pull. “You are such a dick.” The girl hissed in an undertone, not wanting to make a scene at her friends wedding. “And fuck you,” Chris cocked his head as he waited for her to go on, only making the girl’s anger grow by ten. “you knew I’d be here- Maddison’s my friend too.”

✪ Chris ran his tongue along his bottom lip, withholding the urge to smile at her amusing behaviour. She wasn’t like this in high school. It was almost －refreshing. “Someone’s finally grew a backbone.” And like that, a switch flicked in her head.

－ Within seconds Chris felt a pain erupt on the left side of his jaw, the girl’s hand lowering to her side with a shouting pain going down it. Holy fuck －I didn’t do that. He went silent for a moment, rolling his jaw as an attempt to relieve the pain and discomfort. “hm,” Chris hummed, tasting the iron in his mouth as he slid his eyes back to Y/n’s. “Sweet.” He uttered.

✪ Shoulders falling, she let out a aspirated sigh while spinning around. She could never win, at least not when it came to Chris. Chris watched as she sulked away, catching sight of her hand raising to shield her face as she crossed paths with friends and strangers. She was crying. He knew it from the way she walked with a stumble, and the way the hand by her side shook gently.

“Fuck me.”

－ His eyes flicked around the room for a moment to make sure his brothers were out of sight, knowing that if they saw him chasing after her of all people, they’d lecture him until the end of time. He’d never hear the end of it, you were supposed to let her go, Chris, you promised to let her heal.

✪ And the worse part was that it was true. He should let her heal, let her find someone who is capable of loving her in all the ways she deserves. Because after all, if he couldn’t, then it he needed to let someone do it for him. The triplet would’ve been a liar to say he hadn’t lurked on her social media accounts over the years, not regularly －maybe every few months. He’d stare at the pictures of her and her friends, a cheesy smile on her lips that he knew －felt, was fake. And it killed him.

－ It broke every single piece of the male’s heart, knowing that she couldn’t be completely happy or unbothered until he fixed the mistakes he made as a teenager. It was a curse, he always thought. Chris had cursed himself with past actions made, holding a deep inner grudge with that boy he once was.

✪ After all it was Chris who’d decided to take another route for his life. If anything the male should’ve prided the girl for her motivation, but instead he loathed her. She knew what she wanted to do, and he didn’t, setting off an insecurity inside him. The nail in the coffin was always the things they aspired for, were far different from each other.

－ Rolling his eyes, he leaned off of the wall and began to stalk after her rushed steps. The long strides he took kept up with her pace perfect as she turned corners, effortlessly keeping up with the girl as she unknowingly was being followed. He had to, didn’t he? Chris wasn’t some monster －well, not really.

✪ “Y/n,” Chris breathed out, catching the girl’s wrist just as she went to enter a washroom. The girl, who was completely unaware of his presence, jumped at the touch. Heart racing as she lurched forward, pulling from the grip she once craved －needed.

－ The coldness of the wall pressed into her cheek as she rested her face against it, eyes fluttering shut as she felt tears glaze the surface. “Let go of me.” He heard her whispered, making his affirming grip only tighten. He didn’t want to. “Chris－” he cut her off by softly tugging her from the wall, nudging her around to face him as he cornered her.

✪ “I’m sorry.”

－ Chris’s tense frame faltered, shoulders falling with relief as he uttered the words. The words he’d been dying to whisper against her neck as he pressed feather like pecks around her jaw. I’m sorry －I’m sorry－ he was so fucking sorry. The sorrow felt by the male consumed him every day for three years, eating away at him whenever his mind allowed rest.

✪ Many mistakes made by the male, but the current one in front of him, taking the cake.

－ Y/n’s chin shook as she bit down on her tongue, forcing the spewing words to leave her mouth impulsively. “You left me.” The girl whispered, voice cracking. “I know,” Chris breathed out, reaching his hands out to cup her cheeks. “I know baby－” she brushed off his touch, turning her face to the side with a shake of the head. “No.” She mumbled.

✪ Sucking back the tears, she inhaled deeply. “You promised me that night,” Meeting his eyes, feeling her own heart fall as she saw the realization twinkle the blues. “I let you－” she cut herself off as a sob threatened to escape her throat, lifting the back of her hand to cover her mouth. “I let you take me, Chris.” Oh god, he knew.

－ Like a whirlwind of memories, the night before the two parted flooded Chris’s thoughts. It was wrong of him, he knew that. He was a stupid fucking kid, and in his defence, it seemed less －terrible then. The lies he whispered against her trachea while he slipped a hand down her garment, the promise he made to love her, cherish her, until they were too old to remember the sealed promise.

✪ Resting his forehead against hers, he unintentionally leaned into the warmth of her body. Coconut, Vanilla, tea tree. The aromas he’d hid away in the back of his mind, all of which reminded him of the girl. Now engulfed in his nose as he lulled his eyes shut, breathing in the comforting scent he missed for years.

－ The rational part of the girl told her to pull away, leave before he could do any more damage. Though, the little part that loved to wreak havoc, convinced her she deserved this, wanted it －needed it. “Just let me make it up to you.” Chris whispered, lulling his eyes open to meet Y/n’s.

✪ Teary eyed, she batted her eyelashes unintentionally while lifting her gaze to hips. “Nothing you could do could fix the pain and hate you’ve left inside me.” Crack. Chris felt his heart fall to his stomach, blowing out a hurt breath as guilt flooded his chest. Chris could only take in her words for a moment, knowing that nothing he could say would make the circumstances right. No words, that is .. The blue eyes fell to her lips, seeing the pink tainting the no doubt soft skin. God, they looked so kissable.

So he did the only thing he could.

－ The triplet slowly leaned in, gently pressing his lips against her supple ones. He felt as her body tensed, but almost immediately fell in place with his actions, breathing a soft elicit gasp from her mouth as she returned the act of tension and need. Chris swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, making her moan softly, his lips twitching at the slightest feeling. “Did I ever fail you back then?” He murmured in between kisses.

✪ Y/n broke apart for a second, a scoff coming from her raw lips. “Any promise you’ve ever made me has been empty and void.” Chris, speechless, leered down at her with a hooded gaze at the remark.

－ He pulled back an inch to look deeper into her eyes, searching for the hesitation or fear. Nothing. Chris felt his tongue twinge the inside of his cheek, muscles tensing as chuckled a bit. “Yeah?” One, two, three. Y/n yelped as she stumbled backward, Chris’s hand effortlessly twisting the door nob behind her as he nudged her through. “Guess’ I’ll have to change that.” He whispered against her jaw, spinning her around.

✪ With a surprised grunt, she felt her hips being slammed into the hard countertop. “Jesus!” Snapping her head up she met his sadistic gaze through the mirror. “That hurt, you dick.” Chris let his gaze bore into hers through the glass, cocking his head a bit as he examined the beautiful pained expression painted across her face.

－ Chills trailed up her back as she felt his warm hand press against her back, slim fingers dragging from the span between her lats to her lower back. “Whoops.” He said with a grin as he looked her in the eyes, chuckling a bit. Y/n rolled her eyes, head lowering as she felt her thighs clamp together shamefully. “Yeah you sound real apologeti－fuck.” She gasped, feeling cold air hit her backside as a split tore through the room.

✪ He didn’t －oh my god he totally fucking did. “Chris,” she muttered, slowly lifting her head from the counter as she peered at the male from the glass. “tell me you did not just tear my $500 skirt.” Chris heard the ware in her tone, only intensifying the immense satisfaction he felt. “Okay.” He shrugged, lips twitching as he heard her breath hitch, his two index fingers slipping down the sides of her lace thong.

－ He watched in entrancement as the rough garment drug down her plump ass, unable to ignore the far difference in the lingerie she usually wore. She kept it tame back then, panties that would show a little something, and if she was feeling risky, sheer with some lace. But this, this was new.

✪ A sign that he’d lost touch with the new Y/n. He bit down on his lip, pressing down on her lower back as she bent further. “Always such a sweet girl,” he muttered, hearing her whimper as he slid a finger down her glistening slit, applying pressure to the sensitive bundle of need. “now dressin’ like a slut.” Chris tutted softly, eyes lifting to meet hers in the mirror, watching as her eyes rolled back at the motion of his middle finger easing its way into her pussy.

－ He felt as her walls clamped down on the digit as if it was his cock. Letting out a huff of amusement, he added another finger, the push becoming more reluctant against her tight cunt. “That’s it,” he mumbled, thumb slowly rolling over her clit as he eased his other two fingers into her heat. “jus’ open up for me, baby.” He whispered, the pace of his middle finger torturously slow.

✪ The girl’s head fell against the cold marble, whining in pleasure as she felt the ball in her stomach building. It almost was too much, such a foreign sensation after using her own, smaller hands for her pleasure for the few years. As she felt her body react so differently to his touch, the idea of him fucking her, seemed simply impossible.

－ Chris was definitely more than well endowed, if her memory served her correct. Even after fucking her the first time, the occasions after were just as harder to get her through. It was the additional discomfort and pain that got her. She had always described it to be tore in half, a shooting pain as well as heat coursing up her core as he slammed himself into her.

✪ Chris hushed her softly as she began to struggle against his touch, shifting with discomfort, but pushing her hips back against the touch despite her body’s reluctance. “I know, I know.” The triplet murmured, feathering kisses against the opening of her skin tight top. “You can take it.” Y/n moaned at the words, pussy pulsing around his slim fingers that scissored up into her.

－ Hardness pressed into the girls thigh from behind, Chris’s hips pathetically rutting against the soft skin as he impatiently waited to slam into her sopping cunt. “M’gonna fuck you s’good.” He breathed against the shell of her ear, his free hand flattening around her trachea, squeezing gently.

✪ He uttered the words like he meant it, unfulfilled promises he’d never made up for, finally being made. “Please.” She practically whined, pushing her hips back into his erection.

－ Tight walls of the girl’s pussy clenched around nothing as he slid his fingers from her the dripping core, a trail of arousal slipping down her inner thigh as she feigned to be filled. The sound of the triplet’s zipper being tugged at echoed throughout the washroom.

✪ Chris’s hand slipped into his slacks after tugging at the belt, immediately palming over the raging hard on with a guttural moan. Pre-cum tainted the end of his calloused thumb as he ran the pad along his sensitive tip, whimpering as he bucked his hips into his own hand. Fuck this.

－ “Sorry －I gotta’ fuck you baby.” Please. She almost cried the plea, opting to whine in desperation as he lined the tip of his cock up to the entrance of her dripping cunt, one hand placed on her waist as he adjusted himself. Slowly sinking himself into her heat, she moaned breathlessly, nails scraping the marble countertop as he barely got an inch in. “Chris,” she whined.

✪ The male threw his head back with a grunt, chest heaving as he tugged at the button of his dress shirt. “I’m not even halfway in yet, sweetheart.” He said airily, running a hand through his hair. “Be a good girl and hold on for me, yeah?” Chris said, squeezing her waist warily.

－ Huh? Y/n’s eyebrows met with confusion, but she complied to the request with the slightest hesitation. Just as her hands mounted around the counter top, her whole body was being forced forward with one sharp buck of Chris’s hips. “‘Holy fuck!” Her nails dug into the counter, Chris’s hips meeting her backside as he bottomed out.

✪ A shooting pain ran up her core as heat swirled within the drenched folds, pulsing with need as she clamped around his cock snuggly. Chris’s eyes were squeezed shut, hips still from any movement as he forced himself not to come the second he slammed inside her pussy. God she was fuckin’ tight. “Jesus, baby,” He moaned, neck bent back with the overwhelming amount of pleasure he felt as he slowly pulled out of her. “you’re tighter than when I first fucked ya’.” Pressing a hand on her lower back, he sharply thrusted back into her, a startled moan emitting her lips.

－ She felt him everywhere. “S’so good,” she panted, whimpering as she felt the ridge of his cock sliding against her clit sensitively. The pain subsided with each rut of his hips, until it was just an overwhelming tingling sensation with every single movement.

✪ Her walls tightened around his dick with every single retraction, making him groan as he gripped her waist. “You’re suffocating me here, baby.” Y/n whimpered, the words itself allowing her cunt to squeeze around him as he pulled out. “Can’t’ help it.” She whispered, whining as he swiftly slammed back into her. “Fuck.” It was so good.

－ The girl couldn’t tell if she was jealous with his new experience, or thankful. While Chris did know how to make a girl feel good back then, it was mediocre. His hips moved with the need to find his own pleasure, lazy thrusts as he whined and whimpered next to her ear. But this, was something else.

✪ She watched as Chris’s face scrunched with pleasure, neck craned back as he watch his cock fuck into her little hole, before his eyes lifted to meet her’s through the glass at the feeling of her stare. She breathlessly smirked at his darkened expression, pushing her ass out to meet every slam of his cock. “Couldn’t even wait, had to fuck me in a bathroom.” He bit down on his bottom lip, shaking his head a bit.

－“Why? So I would have to walk around all night, with my brothers, feeling like I need to shove my cock into this little cunt?” The male grunted, using two hands to lift her hips, sharply fucking into her from a new angle.

✪ She moaned, nails scraping the countertop, laughing at the sinful statement. Chris’s eyebrows came together, teeth gnashing as he fisted his hand around her ponytail, lifting her face from the cold marble. “Somethin’ funny, doll?” She shook her head, chest still heaving as she panted and laugh.

－ “No- no, it’s just that you’re the same selfish little boy you were three fucking years ago.” She grits out, glaring at him through the mirror as he fucked into her with a darkness twinkling in his eyes. “Worried about getting it up, instead of the girl who fell- ah －” she was cut off as his hips snapped forward, her body going limp as he slammed into her hard.

✪ The hand that was pressed against her belly slid up until it pressed on her neck, slim fingers wrapping around the area as he held her up, set on keeping the eye contact. “That girl, is the same little bitch, that would rather spend time with frat boys then stay with her boyfriend.” He hissed.

－ Y/n felt him slowly pull out, making her breathlessly pant out. “No, no －” she cried out, sinking into the counter as Chris’s hand made contact with her right ass cheek, his hand groping the pink skin afterward. “Hush.” Her body was limp, thighs trembling as she struggled to stay upright, the only balance she held was the triplet’s grip on her.

✪ Which she didn’t know was a good thing or not. “Put your hands behind you,” He murmured while turning her around, two large hands rubbing the underside of her thighs as he stepped closer to her, wrapping them snuggly around his hips. The girl complied, two palms falling against the marble as she leaned back, lifting her hips with need. “someone’s impatient.” He chuckled.

－ Her eyes narrowed into a glare, chest heaving as she looked at his disheveled frame. “Someone’s needy.” Chris rolled his eyes at the bratty reply, hands gliding to grip her backside. “Yeah, yeah.” The male muttered, looking into her eyes nonchalantly as a smirk graced his lips. “Hold on f’me.”

✪ And just like that, he was bottoming out in her with one thrust, the girls eyes flying open. “Chris!” Every fucking inch, she felt as he slid into her violently, a new spot inside being brushed against with every movement. His hand swatted her’s away as she pressed it against his abdomen, “slow- slow down,” gripping her smaller one in his, he tutted softly. “Hands to yourself, doll.” Her face scrunched with pleasure, feeling an iron like taste in her mouth as she nipped at her tongue.

－ Her back aches into him as he ruthlessly fucks into her, the length of his cock rocking back in forth along her pulsing walls. Chris’s head fell back with a low moan, feeling the way her hips raised as a silent plea to continue despite the harsh thrusts of his dick. “Always takin’ it like a good fuckin’ girl.” Bobbing her head silently, he sunk himself deeper in her.

✪ The girls hips roll to alleviate some of the pressure, only causing a whole new shockwave of arousel to come over her. “Yes, yes －” her whined echoed through out the bathroom, no doubt heard by passing guests. Chris couldn’t help himself, the sound of her lewd whines flooding straight to his cock.

－ A strangled moan escaped her parted lips as he buried himself inside her to the hilt, so deep that she swore she could feel him up her throat. “Chris,” she gasped out, head hitting the mirror with a soft thud as it fell back. Chris panted softly while pushing away the hairs that stuck to her face, using every bone in his body not to give and press his lips to her’s.

✪ She swallowed deeply, sucking in a breath as she flicked her gaze down to her abdomen. “Your cock,” she whimpered, seeing the faint outline of hid cock in her belly. He hummed, his veiny hand pressing to her stomach as he drug the top of her shirt up further, just until it was below her breasts. “Yeah? You like that? seeing my cock fuck into ya’?” She nodded dumbly, moaning silently as he pressed down on the outline.

－ Chris couldn’t get enough of her ass. Groping the skin as he lifted her up onto his cock, just before slamming down into her. She moaned in pleasure, he groaned in agony. “Fuck － baby,” so damn tight. She was squeezing the life out of him, clamping down in every inch of his length.

✪ “Oh my god －” tears of pleasure threatened to fall as she released over his dick, feeling him reach places she didn’t even know existed. “That’s it my girl,” He grunted while fucking into one last time, groaning as he felt ropes after ropes of cum spew from his sensitive tip. “Thats. Fucking. It.” All he needed.

－ His forehead pressed to her’s as the two calmed from the aftershocks of their orgasam’s, eyes fluttering open to meet her’s. The look in her eyes was one of the few things Chris noticed hadn’t changed. They gleamed with such love, a love she was so willing to share with him once.

✪ And if he knew one thing, it was that he missed that fucking look. If he could do it all over again he would. He’d take everything back with a snap of the finger, go back to the simple times where they’d sneak from class to meet up, share messy chaste kisses as they dodged the hall monitor.

－ Chris flicked his gaze from her lips to her eyes, over and over, debating what his next move would be. He couldn’t, could he? No －it’d be wrong of him … right? Being the irrational individual he’d always been, he slammed lips against her’s, despite his better judgment.

✪ Y/n’s eyes flew open, a sound of surprise emitting her lips as she felt the impact of his making contact with her flush ones. He cupped the one side of her jaw as he moved his lips against hers, chasing the feeling of pure melancholy he did as a teenager. And god, he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t feel it.

－ His heart practically pumped from his chest, lips twitching against hers as he felt a smaller hand softly tug at the brunette tendrils atop his head. He missed it so much. Chris hissed as she nipped at his plump bottom lip, eyes glaring into hers for a moment.

✪ She laughed. Pressing a hand to the back of her lips as she giggled, chest shaking as she concealed the laughter that wanted to emit from her mouth. His eyes softened at the sight, glare no longer as he looked at her with pure amazement.

－ He missed her so much.

✪ They both looked into each other’s eyes, silently searching for the correct thing to say after the moment they’d shared. Hell －it wasn’t a moment. Chris had fucked her in a bathroom, at their friend’s wedding. There was something so .. ironic about it, though he couldn’t put a finger on it.

－ Should he thank her? Apologize? Maybe he should express how much he liked it － no, no. His eyes flicked to eye to eye, throat bobbing as he blurted out the words he been fighting for years.

“Marry me.”

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 ♡︎－

@fratbrochrisgf @jetaimevous @sturnstvr @sturnrc @stonermattsgf

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #writers on tumblr #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christophersturniolo #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #vegas

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tinytalkingtina · 3 days ago

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Tales of Eddierotica Chapter 1: Argh me matey

Eddie writes the world's worst erotica about characters who are just poorly disguised versions of himself and Steve. One day, Steve finds out exactly what's been going on inside the mind of his roommate all these years.

Rated E | 4.3k words | Ao3 link [Chapter 1] | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 Overall tags: crack treated seriously/porn with a plot, modern/no-UD AU, friends to lovers, bisexual Eddie AND Steve, steddie as roommates, switch Eddie/Steve, vers Steve/Eddie, Eddie has a crush on Steve (and is horny about it), writer Eddie, the prose is so purple it has passed out from a lack of oxygen, friend fiction/erotica, so many bad puns and word play Chapter-specific tags: pirate AU, pirate Eddie, sailor Steve, pegging, rope bondage, non-con bondage, sexual frustration, orgasm denial, edging, and penis sword fighting (mind the tags but the erotica is at all times silly)

Written for the @switcheddieweek event, fulfilling the "art" prompt!

Find the full chapter on Ao3 to read it in all of its comic sans glory, but enjoy a snippet below the cut (as well as tags). Pink is Eddie's writing below.

“Theodore!” Stevenson growled manfully, as a man might. “You’ve gone too far this tiiiiiiimmmoohhhhh, too far this time! I demand you release me at once. Let us settle our differences as men of honor might.” The raven-haired roguish rascal grinned. “Why Commander, are you asking little old me for a duel? Your weapon is certainly impressive, but I promise, my own morning wood is far more dexterous in the afternoon!” Stevenson craned his neck. From where he was bound, he could just make out the captain’s trouser sword, the red tip shining merrily in the half past two o’clock sun. True to the captain’s word, it bobbed and waved in the breeze with quite agile ease. Still, what choice did Stevenson have? This unceasing torment would surely be his undoing. Even if he managed to reach his peak, la petite mort would be far too great for his tired body and overcum soul. “Yes, I do challenge you to a duel, you dastardly fieeeeend!” Anything to ease the ache in his pale twinned coconuts. The more Steve read, the less convinced he was that this was revenge. It was way too silly. Definitely weird and fucked up. But ‘pale twinned coconuts’ was something guys would say in like, a comedy porno. And now that he thought about it, Eddie had left the notebook where Steve could find it by accident. Maybe this was why the two of them got along so well, his roommate would turn his annoyance at whatever Steve had done into stupid porn to laugh at. Which was in fact very Midwestern of him after all. Mercifully the pirate captain holding him captive decided he’d had his fill of watching the commander writhe and groan. His loyal crew mates pulled Stevenson back onto the deck, giving him a much needed reprieve from the peg he’d been impaled upon. Though blood flowed back into Stevenson’s limbs, his body still spared some to hold his mighty spear aloft. For Stevenson’s johnson was truly a weapon to behold and envy. Even under clothes, its size and girth served as a source of distraction for those who shared the room with it. Steve glanced down at his pants and the super obvious outline of his dick. Okay so maybe these sweats were a little too tight to wear in public, but in his defense, Eddie had walked into a wall or tripped over his own feet every day since the two of them had met. How was he supposed to know some of those accidents were dick-related? Once the commander recovered his strength, he stood to his full height. Standing but one inch over his opponent only due to his stupidly attractive voluminous hairTowering over his opponent, he grasped his Not So Lil’ Stevie[son] and prepared to fight.

Read the rest on Ao3!

Tagging folks who have been scarred by wip weekend snippets:

@hbyrde36 @pearynice @eriquin @queenie-ofthe-void @yesdangerpls

@fkinkindagauche @helpimstuckposting @augustjustice @apomaro-mellow

@onirislanding @sidekick-hero @shares-a-vest @dreamwatch @stellarspecter

@zombiethingy @wynnyfryd @griefabyss69 @stevesjockstrap @runninriot

@sourw0lfs @dame-zoom-a-latte @pentapoctopus @soaringornithopter

#cannot emphasize how silly this is XD #steddie #tinawrites #eddierotica #switcheddieweek2025 #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #Made the divider in canva using 1200x80 pixels and free stock images

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charliemwrites · 1 year ago

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Part 10! of SpecGru reader. This is a little short, but I was so excited to post because NOVA.

Content: safe/sane/consensual sex - oral, female receiving

Nova is your partner for the day – running drills as guest instructors for recruits, working them so hard they don’t have enough air to make any stupid, sexist remarks. The two of you spend all day flirting like a new lovesick couple, your hand drifting low on her back while she teases you with double entendres. Press her up against the wall outside the dining hall after lunch, licking the taste of apple off her lips while she tangles clever fingers in your hair.

Don’t care about who might be watching, or who cares. Not like your captain does. The opposite really, as he sidles up behind you while you’re spotting Nova in the gym. He slaps your ass so hard it damn near echoes, smirking at your scandalized face while she quickly reracks so that she can laugh.

“How are my girls doin’ today?” he chuckles.

“Right as rain, cap,” Nova answers, beaming when he cups her cheek.

“Can’t be anything but good with our star girl around,” you reply, winking at her. Bark a laugh when she smacks you in the thigh.

“Yeah?” he asks, a note of sincerity in his voice now. “Those shitheads leavin’ you alone?”

You blink, realize that there has been a distinct lack of 141 overtures today. No wonder you’re in such a good mood. An orgasm in the morning, your pretty, hyper-competent girlfriend all day, and no shitty former teammates? That’s practically a vacation lately.

“Do I have you to thank for that, sir?” you ask. Remember him saying something about talking to Price yesterday.

“You can thank me later,” he answers with a little smirk.

“Gladly, sir.” He’s getting more than that at this rate.

“Just wanted to check in on you two,” he continues, tweaking your nose, “and there’s an intel brief at 1600.”

“Yessir,” you and Nova reply together.

He chuckles again, gives you both one last fond look, then takes his leave.

“Finish up in here, shower, and get there a bit early?” Nova suggests.

You turn back to her, wipe a bit of sweat off her forehead with your forearm. She huffs in (only half fake) disgust and lays back on the bench again. She’s still got half a set to finish.

“Yeah, I want to steal Price’s usual seat,” you answer.

“You petty little tart,” she chuckles.

You lean your elbows on the bar and lean over her, arching your eyebrows playfully. “I’m your petty little tart.”

“Have always had a sweet tooth,” she muses.

You laugh and get off the bar so that she can continue. Of course, you’re keeping a close eye on her – but lord, she’s distracting. Thick thighs and solid abdomen, her tank-top is even sticking to the flexing muscles. And her arms. You’re not even being subtle, drinking in each deliberate rise and fall of the metal bar. Following droplets of sweat down her biceps…

“You mind?” she huffs, though not without amusement.

You jolt a bit, flushing as you help her rerack again. She sits up, a mischievous curl to her full lips.

“What’s got into you, huh?” she asks, tilting her head.

You shrug as you switch places, trip up a bit when you realize just how nice the view is. Even thoroughly sweaty, she smells a bit like coconut. Damn.

“Not you, unfortunately,” you reply absently.

She chuckles, tapping a finger against your forehead. “Tell ya what, love – you do five extra reps and we can make that happen.”

You’ve never flown through a workout so fast.

You damn near stumble into the shower stall, lips and tongue tangled with Nova’s. The flimsy curtain flutters haphazardly behind her as you reach blindly for the knob. Ice cold water drenches your back, but it does nothing to cool the desire blazing in your gut. Not when she’s peeling herself out of her compression pants, shimmying out of her damp shirt, and wriggling out of her sports bra.

Don’t even care about your own clothes, dropping to your knees in awe. She’s absolutely gorgeous, your girl. Pretty brown skin interrupted by pale patches like scattered clouds, meeting of earth and sky right there in front of you. Something divine about that, you think vaguely. She certainly looks the part, all strength and confidence, dark eyes smoldering like coals. Interrupted only by slashes of scar tissue and the SpecGru tattoo on her forearm.

You’ll never get tired of looking at her.

“C’mere, love,” you murmur, hooking your fingers behind her thigh and gently urging her closer.

She laughs a bit, though there’s a breathless edge to it that makes you perk up like a dog.

“You’re still dressed, daft thing.”

You shake your head. “That can wait.”

Despite your deal in the gym, there’s nothing you want more right now than to take care of her. Just leave her a shaky, whimpering mess, until your shirt is wet with her rather than water or sweat.

“Let me take care of you, baby?” you breathe, hands skimming up her soft thighs. You caress your thumb over her labia, licking your lips at the stickiness already gathered there. “Please, Nila.”

She shudders hard. You groan softly, trailing kisses over the bundle of tissue protecting her lower tummy. Can feel her twitching a bit from the ticklish sensation of your hair brushing her ribs.

“Y-your sure?” she asks. “I haven’t washed off yet…”

“Don’ care,” you mumble, scraping your teeth over the sharp cut of her hip. Tease eager fingertips over her leaking slit, playing in the trim curls. “I gotta taste you. Stay hydrated ‘n all that.”

She tries to scoff, but it’s overtaken by a wobbly moan when you suck a modest mark into her inner thigh. Keegan’s going to pout when he sees it; that’s his favorite spot to claim on all of you.

“Yeah, babes,” she gasps, “g-go ahead.”

It’s probably pathetic, how quickly you faceplant into her pussy. Can’t bring yourself to care when the taste of her bursts across your desperate tongue. A bit of salt, but all her, earthy. You lap at her with the flat of your tongue, starting at her dripping entrance and working slowly up until you curl the tip over her slippery, swollen clit. Again and again. Until all your thoughts whittle down to this, to her. To the helpless clench of her empty cunt and the involuntary buck of her hips. Nothing to calm your thoughts like taking care of your angel.

“Fuck, baby,” she moans, blunt nails scraping over your scalp.

Your eyes roll back as shivers chase down your spine, moaning into her cunt just to return the effect. Love how her head tips back, knees quaking. You scoot in a bit closer, hook her knee over your shoulder to offer some stability. Then focus your attention on that button of nerves, sucking it gently into your hot mouth.

“F-fingers,” she whimpers, “fingers too, love. Please.”

As if you could deny her anything ever. Circle worshipful fingers around her entrance, groaning lustfully when slick begins dripping down your wrist. God, she always gets to fucking wet. When she tilts her hips with a needy whine, you test one finger inside her, rubbing gently against her walls. But she keens, clearly wants more, so you stuff a second finger inside her, curling them as you flick your tongue over her clit.

“Fuck!” she cries. “Yeah, just like that. J-Just there, babe.”

And you’re useless to do anything but acquiesce, setting a steady rhythm that leaves her squirming on your mouth and hands. Feel like you could get off on the noises she’s making alone, your own pussy drenched and aching. But you can’t be bothered to spare a single thought or movement for yourself, hands and mind too full of Nila.

Your dedication is quickly rewarded by the telltale squeezing of her pussy, the increasing pitch and volume to her voice. Don’t dare change a single thing, as desperate for her to cum as she is. Could live forever between her thighs, just like this, listening to that voice break for you.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m… c-cum – fuck!”

You moan as she drenches your chin and neck, quick to support her weak legs so that she can ride out each and every wave of her ecstasy. Suckle at her sensitive clit and circle your fingers around her spongy g-spot until she’s shuddering, gently tugging at your hair. You pull away reluctantly; don’t want to overstimulate her (when she doesn’t want it) but pussy-drunk all the same.

Give her a second to catch her breath, dotting kisses like stars around your pretty Nova.

“That was perfect,” she coos, “come up here for a kiss? I miss you.”

You make sure she’s steady before standing, smiling, stupidly charmed. “I’m right here, sweetheart, nothing to miss.”

“Miss you anytime I’m not kissin’ you,” she replies dreamily, looping her arms around your neck.

You pepper kisses along her jaw until you reach her puffy, bitten lips. Tuts softly at their swollen state before she thoroughly distracts you by licking the taste of herself from your mouth.

“Spoil me,” she sighs against your lips.

“Not spoiling if you deserve it,” you reply, hugging her close.

She giggles brightly, tucking her face against your flushed neck. Stay like that for a moment, gently swaying. Then she nips gently at your collarbone.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #specgru reader #nova cod #Nila “Nova” Brown #Nova x reader #captain daddy cameo

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ohyouluckysaint · 1 month ago

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♡⃞ 𓄧 Y2KJUNKIE!READER ༝༚༝༚ featuring Sam Winchester

( reader is aa╱soulaan coded )

au created by saint ‹𝟹

Y2KJUNKIE!READER’S DETAILS ໃ ̫𓈒. ̥ has naturally tight coily curls ⟢ her lips are always glossy and, more often not, glittery too ⟢ described as tan ⟢ gold jewelry is a yes ⟢ most outfits consist of pink, fur, animal print, and/or denim ⟢ always has a french tip medi pedi ⟢ collects magazines, cds, and dvds (she has an entire collection back home!) ⟢ body glaze ⟢ has been called Barbie ⟢ anklet charms ⟢ stretch marks ⟢ she doesn’t know about him being a hunter or any supernatural creatures actually existing aside from ghosts (and Sam plans to keep it that way).

HOW WOULD SHE BE DESCRIBED? ໃ ̫𓈒. ̥ glitzy, fabulous, spoiled princess (courtesy of Dean—he means it negatively, she doesn’t care and doesn’t bother taking it that way), very pink, vixen.

cw ⌖ none! blurb, fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff, s1-s5 sam in mind when creating this, sam’s obsessed, mild language.

𑁥𑄺　˖ﾟ　wanna enjoy my other sam related content? you can also request for more!

Sam Winchester ventured to a costal town alongside his brother. He headed down to the beach first thing, and she was at the bar, leaning against it, sipping away on a strawberry swirl piña colada while humming along and tapping her right foot in her mesh slippers to a song playing lowly from the bar’s portable speaker. Her hips swayed lightly in her low rise capris and she adjusted her tote bag to rest on her shoulder that was slung low on her arm a moment before.

She was alone, so Sam hesitated before he thought Dean was going over to her and practically shoved him out of the way before journeying over to her. Dean just made a face and was readying himself to curse at the younger Winchester until both of his eyebrows rose once Sam approaching her was in his line of sight and then realization flickered in his green eyes. He smirked softly before going to the opposite side of the bar to order a drink like he wanted to in the first place. Who is he to cock block when he thinks Sam doesn’t get any action to begin with? He doesn’t think Sam has a shot with you, but he’ll be a good big brother and swallow that insult on down.

Sam politely cleared his throat as his towering stature came to step beside her, and he adjusted his pale yellow polo tee right before her eyes fixed on him. His heart only thudded harder against his ribcage like it wanted to comically leap out and land in the palm of her pretty hand. “Hi, I’m Sam,” he spoke up as his gaze flickered between hers, just as she gave him a once over. She greeted him promptly and told him her name with a soft smile, and lightly shook his hand when he offered it. Her voice sent a shiver down the bow of his spine with it’s a velvet caress wrapped around every single word especially when she breathed his name. He was at the mercy of her already.

He'd never been this affected by a woman before. Not since Jessica anyway. It was unsettling in a good way for him. She wasn’t using any magic, had no ulterior motives. Just gorgeous. Maybe it’s also how her skin shimmers and how she smells a little too good. He can’t stop himself from trying to figure out what it is, and he comes to realize it’s her hair that smells like coconut and her skin smelled of a raw pineapple that isn’t too sweet to where it’s sickening. She noticed because Sam isn’t entirely discreet, she just hopes he doesn’t ask or try to touch her or her hair. Especially her hair.

When she’d figured out that he was only in town for what he called “a work trip,” she was hesitant on continuing to continue speaking to him. She thought he was cute, but didn’t want a summer fling. She wanted the start of something real, something stable. But the way his pupils dilated and the way he stared at her and softly nodded when she spoke about herself, because he wanted to know more, had her mindlessly drawn toward him more. So, she straight up told him it wasn’t going to work if he just wanted to sleep with her.

Sam looked almost offended when she said that and quickly reassured her that wasn’t the case. That they could even be friends first, so they don’t trip over themselves with infatuation. They’d begun dating once the time was right for them both, and he doesn’t miss out on calling or texting her even when he’s about to go on a hunt with Dean. When he doesn’t respond to her in two days tops, she worries. Not that he’s cheating, but that something went wrong. Always. He never gave her a reason to doubt she’s the one for him.

When Sam is in town and he takes her on a date in her car (because Dean doesn’t wanna give up Baby “in case they have a little too much fun”), he insists she strictly picks the music even if she says it’s okay if he picks something. She gets all giddy and doesn’t hesitate to play her playlist. She sings and raps almost every word as she dances in the passenger seat, passing her imaginary rhinestone microphone to Sam, only for him to not know a single word or song. He taps his fingers against her steering wheel when he thinks one of them is catchy though. When they’re just back at her place, she has her back rested against his chest while sitting between his thighs with his arm slung around her chest while they watch Bring It On: All or Nothing on her pink CRT TV. Her pick of course.

The first time she wanted help with getting her braids taken down, Sam didn’t protest, especially when she complained about her arms hurting. He found it easy to do after he’d looked at some videos online on his own time, especially when handed the rat tail comb, and he even helped her wash, detangle, and twist her hair afterward. “Part it into four sections…” “Want me to add a little more oil to your scalp?” “Wait, I gotta redo this one.” “You have to tell me if it hurts, okay?” A lot of that from him during the process. She found it comforting and really cute.

When she gets new outfits, she puts on a little fashion show for Sam like she would for her family when she was younger. Yet she puts on a show reserved just for her boyfriend, and SPOILER ALERT! those outfits are gradually more provocative. Long silk robes with fur, some sheer, while some aren’t. Lacy lingerie—bras, corsets, thongs, you name it. All while Sam claps for her and cues the music for her to step out of her closet with him rating every piece a ten.

She’s asking for him to help her choose a new hairstyle? He’ll help her and ask how much money she needs and if he can sit in on the appointment. When she says he can’t due to the beautician’s policy, he’s understanding…but also sulking. However, when he picks her up hours later, he’s crowding her space like a big puppy, and she can’t help but giggle when he manages to lift her with his hands secure against her curves to make sure she doesn’t fall, just to kiss all over her face. He’s so careful when touching her hair for a moment after she gives him the go ahead to do so. An onslaught of compliments almost instantaneously filter through his lips.

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randomishnickname · 2 years ago

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Must-read Destiel fics - my superduper Nov. 5th rec list

Three years ago, on the blessed day of November 5th, 2020, I had:

never seen an episode of SPN,

only had a vague inkling of what the two pale coconuts were on about,

and I hee-heed and ha-had with the rest of Tumblr about the love confession scene and the Internet errupting in an unparalleled craze

At first I thought, that's it.

Then ... I got curious. I watched some YouTube Destiel supercuts. I read some fic (I think @andhumanslovedstories beautiful Cas/OC fic was my entry point?). I read meta. I watched some more YouTube scene packs. I read even more fic. I watched some of S4, some of S1, some random fan fav episodes. And then Destiel lodged itself so deeply, thouroughly into my brain that it took over and hasn't relinquished control in the last two years. The most tenacious, pervasive brain worm to date.

This ship got it all, and this fandom got it all, and there's such delightful, powerful, batshit crazy, romantic, expertedly crafted fanfic out there, it's like being a starving child in the world's biggest candystore.

So without further ado, here's some of my very favorite fics from this infinite trove, with all my thanks to the wonderful writers who keep delighting and awing me with their dedication and craft. There'll of course be some recency bias at play but you can browse my bookmarks over here to chose from over 100 excellent and well-curated SPN stories.

💕CATEGORY: SWOONWORTHY💕

Wildly romantic fics that warm you up from the inside.

It Won't Be Perfect by someonetoanyone (10K words) Summary: Dean daydreams about what it'd be like to let himself love Cas freely.

Why I love it: the humor, the spot-on characterizations, and the quintessential late season Destiel-ness of being so deeply love with your best friend that it's too big to actually do anything about. Just. So warm.

Rock Lobster by Ginger Fail (13K) Summary: Cas decides that the lobsters Dean planned to cook need to get back home. Impromptu beach vacation ensues!

Why I love it: This road trip story is fresh and invigorating like a sea breeze! Fun, entertaining and full of deep, deep fondness.

Seek to Know You Better by ahurston (32K)

Summary: On a road trip, Dean and Cas play the 36 Questions That Lead To Love.

Why I love it: They’re so deliberatedly, carefully starting a relationship here. They try so hard to bridge the gaps and meet each other halfway. A very mature take on love that feels nourishing.

☢️CATEGORY: BRAINWORMS GALORE☢️

Fics that make you go BARK BARK BARK.

samson went back to bed by piesexuality (9k, @twoheadedcas) Summary: Cas strikes a deal with Chuck - keeping his family together comes at the price of their free will.

Why I love it: What if Cas got his revenge for the Mala'ak box? What if love came at the price of everything you've been fighting for? What if a story twisted the knife oh so sweetly? Each word of this one lands a punch. Made me insane in the best of ways (cue pinned fanart).

In sickness by @saintedcastiel (41K) Summary: S4 redux but Castiel has a fetish: giving Dean the sniffles.

Why I love it: This one is soooo. Can barely find words for it. It taps into Cas' early season alienness and psychosexual obsession with Dean, brilliantly demonstrates Casdean vs Samruby parallels, and each word is just. Perfect. ARGH!

so much smoke in a hall full of mirrors by AreYouReady (6K, @autisticandroids ) Summary: Godstiel is losing his heavenly war. Crowley provides a compliant Dean-doll for him to release his frustrations upon.

Why I love it: Urgh, this one is sooo dark. Taps into the scary, intimidating and alien aspects of Godstiel so well. Gore, consent and psychosexual issues galore. Delicious.

Special mention: In a Parked Car, Exhuming Ophelia by @an-android-in-a-tutu (17K). Still need to comment properly ;)

💣CATEGORY: EMOTIONAL WRECKING BALLS💣

Angsty fics that tear you to pieces to remake you better.

What Used To Be Mine by someonetoanyone (48K words) Summary: Dean never makes his apology prayer in Purgatory - Cas dies, Dean mourns.

Why I love it: Oh god, this is a heavy hitter. Just, straight up insurmontable grief, packaged in poetic, raw language to make you shed tears and tears. Loved it so much.

Ignite your bones By ilovehowyouletmefall (67K, @angelinthefire) Summary: Dean accepts Chuck's deal: killing Sam to save the world.

Why I love it: Cruuuuel cruel premise for a story that doesn’t pull its punches. It gets dark in Dean’s head and everyone around him suffers. Wonderfully written. The ending set my brain on fire.

Right Where you Left Me by outdean (93K, @armandgender)

Summary: Cas comes back from the Empty after 10 years to find Dean married to another man.

Why I love it: This one is a riiiide. When grief has become a part of you but your love comes back… When you return from the dead and have to carve a new space into the world for yourself... nothing is easy here, but the emotions are INTENSE. Also, autistic!Cas for the win.

Special mention: Who Ya Gonna Call? by saintedcastiel (50K) and Clear skies in spring by enochianprayer (WIP)

💥CATEGORY: EPIC RIDES💥

Expansive, wild adventures with lots of ups and downs

Spirit of the West by teen_dean (140K, @urne-buriall)

Summary: An 18y old Dean grew up on a horse farm – cue veterinarian Castiel. The summer of a lifetime ensues.

Why I love it: So this is one of my very favorite stories, ever ever, and I cannot recommand enough to immediatedly suscribe to the author’s Substack to be able to follow it in „real time“ next summer. It’s cinematic, rich, full of darkness and light, it’s everything a story can aspire to, I’m just. I just really love it.

Second Verse, Same as The First by LaLaCat1 (135K)

Summary: Endverse!Cas is sent back to the start of S1 and is determined to make things right this time round.

Why I love it: a desperate and badass Cas, unfridging everyone, a thrilling plot, moments of awesome for the entire cast, gripping action scenes, a romance for the ages… this is a genuinely amazing story.

back road, black road by eden22 (167K)

Summary: 18y old Sam gets kidnapped by Hell on his way to Stanford. Dean tries to deal.

Why I love it: So this one’s not Destiel-centric but does have wonderful Destiel moments. It’s also very heavy on the gore and the angst (NOT for the faint of stomach), but expertly crafted, fascinating and frankly it deserves more love. Held my breath for half the read and never knew where it’d take me.

Special mention: It's The End Of The World (As We Know It) by tiamatv (140K)

🤪CATEGORY: DESTIEL INSANITY🤪

Uproariously funny stories about the intricate rituals these two weirdos get up too.

Life Skills by ilovehowyouletmefall (26K)

Summary: Dean teaches a newly human Cas how to be „a real man“.

Why I love it: Dean coming to Big Self-Realizations while trying to have platonic threesomes with Cas is so perfect. Very endearing, tender and funny. Also, smoking hot sex.

the cheapest room in the house by biggaybenny (89K)

Summary: Dean downloads Grindr for Cas

Why I love it: Just. Late season Dean being deranged about Cas’ sexuality while everyone watches on in utter confusion. Equally hilarious and deeply moving

according to all known laws of life by @sobsicles (29k)

Summary: Cas comes back from the Empty to a Dean who won’t stop playing gay chicken.

Why I love it: They are both such petty, insane weirdos in this one. They said „can every situation be turned into a squabble“ and didn’t wait for an answer. So funny, so tender

Special mention: Wedding Vows and Negotiations by GingerFail (6K)

That's it, enjoy and leave your writers some much-deserved love!

#destiel #fanfic rec #supernatural #spn #spn fic #deancas #nov 5th #destiel fanfic #dean x castiel #my posts #long post #it was so hard to choose TT_TT #this fandom is amazing

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confessedlyfannish · 11 months ago

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Six Years Ago

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Fortunately for them, the kid isn't good at subtlety. When he appears it is usually with a delayed boom announcing his arrival, like a crack of thunder to his lightning. And a hood pulled low over someone's face doesn't mean much when there's only one preteen in the world who can blow a fire out with his bare breath while floating in midair.

Unfortunately for them the kid is fast, see aforementioned "sonic boom". That is not to say Danny could not follow him anyway, but after the eighth time he heads to one of the kid's rescues and he flees before Danny can get a word out, Ellie is sitting at his kitchen counter heating up his leftovers.

"You need to cool it," she says, using her fang to pop open a sapporo. "He doesn't want to be found right now."

"Yeah, I got that." Danny says, swiping the beer out of the hands of what is technically a fourteen year old. She shoots him a scowl as the microwave dings.

"He's a child, and he's sick, Ellie." Even if Frostbite hadn't said as much, it hasn't escaped Danny's notice that in the past two months his speed has ever so slightly slowed. A particularly brave emergency worker had scolded Phantom for scaring him off this time around, concerned about his thin wrists.

"Gee, a sick child runaway, I wonder who that reminds me of," she says, tapping at her chin. She douses the chicken lo mein in sriracha.

"That's different. You knew to come find me, when it got bad. This kid is afraid of me." And he was. Whenever he and Danny met eyes the kid would go pale(r) with fear before zipping away.

"So make him less afraid."

Danny gapes at her. "Gee," he says slowly, a mimicry of her earlier sarcasm. "Why didn't I think of that."

"You're literally stalking the kid right now, you think I don't know about Tucker's alert system? Right now you must seem like the boss monster that shows up at the end of the level," Ellie says. "You need to approach this differently. Go slow, the way you did with me." She pauses, mouth twisting in a way that signals she's about to be reluctantly vulnerable with him.

"I didn't know what it was like to be...cared about. Properly. Before you guys. Even with the memories," she taps her head with the chopsticks, "It didn't click. But you showed me you would be there for me, even as you respected that I needed my space. You taught me how to trust you."

Danny takes a lengthy pull from the bottle he's still holding. "I can't be patient with him, Ellie," he says. He fiddles with the edge of the peeling label. "He's going to get worse."

"Yeah." Ellie says. "And I think you should let him."

---

The first time the backpack appears, Jon takes one look at the post-it with the scribbled stylized D and ":)" on it and tosses the whole thing in the trash before taking off.

He does the same the next four times, even as the backpack gets bulkier, its contents crashing together as it hits the nearest available dumpster.

He's in New York City after he saves a window washer from falling twenty stories when he sees his face plastered on a Times Square billboard. A hotdog stand owner in New York City offers him one on the house which he reluctantly accepts, trying to ignore the man's searching gaze.

He's not an idiot. He knows he's starting to look like crap, if the way the people react when they see him means anything. It's not like he smells, he regularly bathes in clean streams and lakes, but even when he eats coconuts and mangos and wild raspberries until his stomach is bursting and he has spent the last five minutes petting a giraffe on the head, feeling so giddy he almost forgets how his family is gone—he feels...strange. Weaker. The cuts on his side and face from the evil robot with the green eyes have slowly scarred pink, and they still pull and sting if he stretches. Jon's never had a scar before, and now he has six. And he's losing weight.

A lot of the people he meets have been super nice about it, offering him food and, in a particularly cold area of Alaska, a zip up hoodie he now wears over his recognizable family crest. Not that doing so has stopped the white-haired guy from finding him. But it has allowed Jon to move around more freely when he isn't out rescuing people. He even made some cash in Wisconsin cleaning up a grocery store before the night shift manager had recognized his face.

This and the billboard means he stops to buy a pair of cheap glasses and a large t-shirt with the NYC skyline and shorts on it from a tourist shop. After, he takes a bus to New Jersey with the last of his money and changes in the bathroom. He bites back a sniffle when he peels his superhero costume from his body. He's suddenly overcome, poking a finger through the slashes in the side, and spends the rest of the trip with his head buried in his knees, trying to keep his hiccups quiet.

When he exits, he heads to the library he's already visited three times before. It's bad, to develop a routine like this when he is actively being hunted, but he can't help himself any more than he can help the way he sometimes sleeps in that barn in Kansas, the few times he feels like he can actually rest, surrounded by the familiar smell of animal and hay.

As he searches a few more terms that predictably turn up nothing on the public computer, he notes bitterly it's not like the man can't find him anyway. Just because he's backed off doesn't mean he isn't around, silently threatening Jon with randomly appearing backpacks. Each backpack is different too, as if Jon might be taking issue with the color purple rather than the scary guy providing them.

Jon pushes away from desk, waiting for the inevitable wave of despair that hits him after each Google session proves fruitless. He's even, in one moment of lunacy, searched Talia Al Ghul, thinking if anyone can find him after his search pings her servers it's her—

But she never did come.

No one has.

Except for him.

The wave today is muted, lapping at his ankles rather than bowling him over, and somehow the resignation that accompanies it hurts more. He wants to do something, anything, and so he scoots back to the cubicle and types in white haired flying man, d symbol.

This is the first time he learns about Phantom.

---

The boy has started taking the backpacks.

Each one is filled with fresh meals in glass tupperware, meant to last for a while even without refrigeration (though with the boy's ice breath, maybe it's not a problem), as well as ziploc baggies filled with pretzels and carrots and goldfish and celery sticks.

("no peanut butter, he might have a nut allergy!"

"Wouldn't that have come up in Frostbite's scan?"

"You think Frostbite would've thought amidst scanning a little boy's half-alien body to check for a peanut allergy?"

"...Fair enough")

Alongside the meals are cash in the form of U.S. dollars, pounds, euros, yen, yuan, and an extreme hail mary in the form of an ATM card that Ellie rolls her eyes at every time Danny packs it.

There is also a miniature first aid kit, sans medicine but including ice and heat packs you can shake to activate. Danny wedges folded clothing in the spare edges of the bag, a blanket, and forces the zipper closed over a pair of high top sneakers similar to the ragged ones the boy wears. He tops every one with the same post-it drawing of his symbol, and a smiley face.

The boy is still weakening, beginning to look like a strong wind could blow him over even as he zips through mudslides in Colombia and scoops a father and son out of a rip current in Italy, but as he accepts the backpacks Danny listens to Ellie and waits.

And then one day Danny is watching him push a bus away from the edge of a sinkhole in Mexico, school kids pressed against the rear windshield watching him, and Danny hears the creaking of his bone right before the kid's arm snaps.

"Okay, fuck this," Danny says into the Fenton comms as the child wails, swooping down to grab the boy with one arm and the bus with the other.

The boy is too stunned to react, sobbing with pain as he cradles his arm protectively, and Danny shamelessly takes advantage of that as he gently but hurriedly places the bus beside the crowd of spectators.

A very small woman who immediately beelined for him as he landed smacks him in the shoulder, hissing at him in Spanish while several people try to hold her back. She smacks him again.

"I'm trying to help him. I promise. Ayuda." Danny says, shifting the boy into a more comfortable bridal carry.

"Ayuda? Help? You, you bad! El pobre niño." The woman sneers. "Bad! ¡Mal Fantasma! ¡Eres un padre horrible!"

Danny knows what padre means, and even if he didn't, he's heard the rumors and conspiracies (and maybe even leveraged them in a conversation with the U.S. government, who can say) and he doesn't bother denying it, because the truth is he has let this child down from the moment he allowed him to be hunted on Skulker's island, and he deserves every nasty word and more.

"Yeah. I know," he tells the woman. In his ear, Sam demands to know what's happening. The boy is incoherent with pain, the outline of the bone pressing against his skin.

"It's going to be okay," Danny tells him, lifting off the ground. Regret is sour in his gut, bile on his tongue. What was he thinking? In the curl of his arms, the child is so small. This isn't a stray cat one coaxes into their home. This is a terrified little boy.

Danny isn't a fourteen-year-old too young and stupid to recognize he shouldn't let a two-month-old clone explore the world with his blessing. He's twenty-eight. He needs to get a grip.

He needs to be better.

The world stops. Everything goes quiet.

A blue portal unwinds via the hands of time.

"I see you're ready now." Clockwork says to him.

Danny wants to deny it, but the words are stuck in his throat. What use is denying what Clockwork already knows to be true?

"This is the right choice, Danny. Everything will be as it should be. Help him," Clockwork nods at the child. "Then find me."

Danny's tongue unsticks from his mouth. "Only if you tell me. If I do this, will he be safe? Will I have the power to protect him?" An echo of what waits to be unlocked drapes over his words, cracks appearing in the ground at his feet. "Tell me."

"Yes. You will keep him safe. Until he no longer needs you to do so. Here."

With a wave of his staff, a neon green portal rends through the air.

Clockwork drifts back to his own portal. "I will see you in Time, Danny."

Danny nods at him as he leaves, feeling a contract snap into place as time restarts at a crawl.

"Shh kiddo," he says as the boy, gradually unfreezing, trickles tears. "I've got you. You'll be okay. I'm going to fix this. I promise."

He steps through the portal, towards whatever comes next.

Part 5

#me: there's references i made in the other parts #me: i should review before i write this so i make sure i hit those refs #also me: nah i'm good #I think I have one more flashback in me before I leave this alone #jonathan kent #jonathan samuel kent #danny phantom #dp x dc #superman #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #my writing

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xvazx · 2 months ago

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The Beauty of Our Chaos

Part 9.2 - Lap Dance

Prev. Part / Next Part

WARNING: suggestive and explicit content ahead. (18+ mdni)

The car was waiting. Mariel and Kaylee waved us in like we were jumping into a getaway car. I shoved Georgina in first and dove in after her. We slammed the doors shut.

“We made it,” I grinned.

“What is going on?” Georgina asked, breathless.

“We’re going undercover,” I declared. “Tell me you have the clothes.”

“A few options. Hope you like smelling like Axe and gym socks.”

We pulled into the Velvet Room parking lot right as the other frat boys parked beside us. Luigi and Damien popped the trunk like we were planning a heist instead of sneaking into a strip club. Inside was a gym bag.

“Time to change,” Mariel said, holding up a hoodie and sweatpants.

“Wait—here?” Georgina asked, scandalized.

“We’ll cover the windows,” I said, pulling down the visors. “And no one’s gonna peek, right boys?”

The boys held up their hands like we were swearing them into court. “Scouts honor.”

We turned the car into a makeshift dressing room, swapping dresses for oversized jeans, beanies, sneakers, and enough layers to kill any shape of femininity.

I shoved my hair into a snapback and took off some makeup with some wipes.

When we were all dressed, Kaylee shouted, “We’re ready!”

Mariel slung an arm around her. “Yo, I’m Max. This is Kyle.”

“Sup,” I added with a nod. “This is my boy George. He’s shy.”

Georgina adjusted her beanie and sighed. “Missy must be freaking out.”

I mimed someone choking me, then giggled.

Luigi looked at us with disbelief and awe. “This is either genius or a complete disaster.”

Damien took the lead, clapping his hands. “Alright, ladies… I mean lads. We’re gonna walk in like you belong. I’ll do the talking. Be cool.”

“Is this a strip club?” Georgina whispered again, pale.

“Don’t worry, we’ll protect you,” Mark said.

“From naked girls?” I deadpanned.

“They are death to me,” Damien whispered like it was sacred.

We formed a makeshift human wall with the frat boys surrounding us as we approached the entrance. Damien did the talking while Luigi flashed their reservation code.

The bouncer looked at us. For a moment, I was certain he knew. Then—

“Have a good night,” he said, stepping aside.

We were in.

We made it.

He caught my eye from across the hall they led us to. He looked impressed. I adjusted my cap and winked.

We slid into a booth, ordered drinks, and tried not to look like a group of girl scouts on an undercover mission.

Luigi sat beside me, arm resting across the booth in casual mode.

“You good, (Y/N Boy Version, or any boy name close to it)?” he asked ironically.

“Just chillin bro,” I said, grinning.

Across the table, Georgina was now giggling with Damien and Kaylee.

Who cares about what Missy would say once she finds out.

The air was heavy with the scent of coconut oil, the bass throbbed through our chests, and the girls stared wide-eyed at the dancers.

The server delivered our drinks—strong, syrupy cocktails in plastic cups—and the boys unzipped bulging wallets. I patted my pockets. “Crap, I forgot mine.”

Someone slid me a stack of bills without a second thought. I shook my head. “This is for the fake groom.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, settling next to me. “Have fun.”

I glanced back at him. “You should be having fun too.”

“Watching you play frat bro is enough” He smirked.

The main host climbed the stairs to the stage, introduced the first dancer, and suddenly the show was on. The dancers tumbled, spun, and writhed to roaring cheers. Georgina was equal parts mortified and mesmerized; Mark and Damien howled encouragement like a pair of excited wolves.

Kaylee and Mariel—my undercover “bros”—hooted at every move. Even I couldn’t help but grin at the absurdity.

A girl introduced as Mirabella took the stage, draped across the pole like a majestic panther, we all agreed: she was the best so far. Damien fished out a wad of singles. “Let’s invite her over.”

Moments later, Mirabella slid off the stage and onto our table’s pole, swinging with effortless grace. I leaned forward, snapping dollar bills onto the platform.

“Her core strength must be insane,” I said to Luigi, pointing towards my abs.

He watched me, eyes bright. “Bet.”

Mirabella spun upside down and teased us: “You four are breaking the rules,” pointing at the girls in baggy clothes and caps.

“Don’t know what you mean, shawty,” Kaylee drawled in her best man-voice.

Mirabella laughed. “You’re sweet honey. But my boss could kick you out if he notices.”

Damien waved his bills. “What if we book a private room?”

She nodded. “Works for me.”

💋Private Rooms💋

We followed her up a narrow spiral staircase to a velvet-draped room: a single pole bathed in red light, a low couch, and speakers bumping deep house.

Mirabella started connecting her dance playlist. “First time girls dress as men to get in,” she observed. “Usually you girls hate this.”

“We come in peace,” I said, tossing my cap onto the table.

“It’s cute,” she said, eyeing me and Luigi. “That your boyfriend includes you.”

“Pff” I blinked. “I… we… no…we’re not together.”

“Situationship?” she queried as she started spinning again on the pole.

“She’s his mistress,” Damien quipped, and the rest of the party cracked up.

“Bro”

Mirabella shook her head. “Aren’t you kiddos like ten?”

“Eleven actually,” Luigi answered back. “And what they mean is I’m pretending to get married for a charity thing.”

We explained the fake wedding fundraiser. She raised an eyebrow. “Fucking bananas.”

“So stupid,” we declared in perfect unison—jinx!

I continued admiring her acrobatics skills.

She notice and I tried to break the ice. “If we pay you, could you teach us how to do that?”

She grinned. “Sure babes.”

The next ten minutes were filled with failed spins and giggles. Mariel nearly face-planted. Kaylee nailed a basic spin. Georgina tried and succeeded, her eyes shining with triumph.

Damien—of all people—whipped into a perfect chair-spin. Impressive

Then it was my turn.

My Converse sank into the floor, my hands gripped the pole, and then I twirled and went down the pole. This is what happens when you grow up listening to The Pussycat Dolls.

Mirabella clapped. “Don’t come for my clients or I’ll kill ya.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Groom’s too quiet. Bro, light up!”

Luigi shrugged. “I’m entertained.” He turned to me. “You guys are making me laugh.”

“Want a lap dance pretty boy?” Mirabella suggested seductively but Luigi politely refused.

“With all due respect.”

Mirabella’s eyes flicked to me. “Or maybe you don’t want it from me.”

The room exploded in whistles and laughter.

“Nooo,” I squeaked.

“Go on, chica,” Damien urged.

“I didn’t meant that,” Luigi defended, chest puffing.

“I got an idea.” Mirabella leaned in my ear with a wicked grin and whispered her next idea—a hilarious twist on a lap-dance.

I hesitated, then grinned. “Alright.”

I grabbed a chair and placed it front center. I looked at him and patted the cushion, motioning him to come sit. His face was priceless—half flustered, half thrilled.

“Be nice,” he warned, grabbing my hand.

I’ll be so good, dude.

The Pink Panther theme burst from the speakers. Everyone hooted. I struck a pose and put my cap back on… then, in a heartbeat, Mirabella switched it to “Pony” by Ginuwine.

I was again fully characterized as my frat boy version. Ready to pull my best Magic Mike impression and exude my best BDE.

Thirty seconds later, I was leaning over him, hips rolling, energy alive with bass drops. He was bright red. The crowd went wild, hurling dollars like confetti.

When the song faded, I almost slip off his lap—Luigi catching me with a gentle hand—and flashed him a triumphant grin.

Whoops

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Anytime,” he replied.

…

We gathered Mirabella’s tips and thanked her for the night before she walked back to the dressing room backstage. I high-fived my undercover crew, and slipped out. The cold night air hit our flushed faces.

We were all ready to head out. The rest of the frat boys left in their cars with their respective designated drivers.

Georgina, sober and surprisingly steady, drove us back. Mariel and Kaylee passed out, soft snores blending with the engine. Damien hummed a song as Kaylee was long gone on his lap.

Luigi and I sat side by side in the back. Mariel curled up on me, snoozing like a baby. I nudged his side. “Did you have fun?”

He smiled back at me. “Yeah. You killed it.”

“Anytime,” I replied.

We pulled up to Phi Kappa Psi house. Georgina and I made a plan to all stay until morning, then sneak back into Delta Nu. The boys gave us blankets and pillows, offering us the living-room couch.

After a few minutes of insomnia from the adrenaline, I tiptoed to the bathroom. Of course I had to pee at 4 am.

I did my business, washed my hands and headed back to the couch.

In the dark hallway, I felt hands on my waist. Ah! Stranger Danger!

My reflex made me elbow the torso that accompanied the pair of hands.

“Ouch,” he whispered.

“What the hell, Luigi? It’s a house full of men.”

He laughed quietly. “Sorry. Fuck, I think you punctured my lung.”

I shrugged, heart pounding. “It’ll pass.”

“Can’t sleep?" he asked. I shook my head, my heart skipping a beat at the way his eyes roamed over me. "Me neither. Wanna go somewhere quieter?"

I hesitated for just a moment before following him down the hall to the game room. It was dimly lit, the glow of a forgotten TV casting shadows across the pool table and the scattered game consoles. We leaned against the pool table, chatting about the night—about the undercover mission, the private room.

“Crazy night, huh?” he said, lightly pulling the sleeve of my oversized shirt. His hand brushed against arm, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe some of the stuff that went down.”

He laughed softly, and the sound made my stomach flip. “You looked like you were having fun up there on the pole,” he said.

I felt my cheeks flush. “I was,” I admitted.

But the conversation was just a cover, a way to fill the space between us until we couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

It was Luigi who broke first.

He moved closer, his body almost touching mine. “I’m glad you came along,” he said, his voice low and husky.

One minute we were laughing, and the next his hand was on my knee, his fingers tracing small circles that sent shivers up my spine. I turned to him, our faces inches apart, and I could see the hunger in the way his jaw tightened as if he was holding himself back.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew what was coming, but I didn’t pull away. Instead, I tilted my head up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were dark, intense, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. He leaned in slowly, giving me plenty of time to back away, but I didn’t. Our lips met, and it was like the world stopped spinning.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both testing the waters. But then his hands were on my waist, pulling me closer, and everything else faded away. His lips were warm, his tongue teasing mine, and I could feel the heat building between us. My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt.

Things escalated quickly after that. His hands were everywhere—my back, my waist, my hair—and I couldn’t get enough.

I could feel the evidence of his arousal against my thigh. My hands fumbled with the elastic of his joggers making him groan into my mouth. I dropped to my knees in front of him, my hands trembling as I freed him. “I guess your bachelor party isn’t over.”

He looked down, his breath was ragged. "You’re driving me crazy," he whispered, his voice rough.

Now, here we were, his hand still guiding my head as I took him deeper, my tongue working in ways that made his hips jerk and his breath catch. "Fuck (Y/N)," he whispered, his fingers tightening in my hair. "You’re so fucking good at this." His words sent a thrill through me, a rush of pride and arousal that made me want to push him even further.

I could feel him shaking, could hear the way his breathing grew more erratic, and I knew he was close. "Don’t stop," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just like that, baby. Just like that."

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not when he was looking at me like that, his eyes locked on mine, his face twisted in pleasure. He came with a low groan, his hand clenching in my hair as his body tensed. I took everything, swallowing it all as he shuddered above me.

For a second, we just stayed there, the only sound our heavy breathing and the distant noise of the house. Then he pulled me up, his lips crashing into mine in a kiss that was as hungry as it was thankful. "Thanks," he murmured against my lips, his hands roaming my body as if he couldn’t get enough of me.

I smiled, my heart still racing, and glanced down at the pool table. "We’re going to need to clean this up," I whispered, my voice teasing. Luigi chuckled, his hands slipping under my clothes as he leaned in close. "Later," he promised, his lips grazing my neck. "Right now, I’m not done with you."

I nodded, unable to form words. Now I was the one leaning over the table as he slid the pair of basketball shorts down, making them fall on my ankles. Shortly, my shirt followed, leaving me only with my undergarments.

My hands gripped the edge of the pool table as I tried to keep quiet, but it was hard. So hard.

His hand hooked on my panties, and he hesitated, his eyes searching mine for permission. I nodded, and he slipped them off, leaving me exposed. His lips trailed down my neck, my chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. When his fingers reached my core, I bit my lip to stifle a moan.

“Ah…,” I gasped, my voice barely audible, as he pressed himself against me, the weight of his body pinning me against the table.

He steps back to shed the rest of his clothes. The sight of him took my breath away—his goddamned toned body.

Dios. (Oh God)

“Wait.. got any…?” I stopped myself.

Be safe kids.

He got back to reality for a second. “Right.”

Swiftly he moved to the closest stand and stuck his hand on a vase, pulling out a metallic packet.

“Yeez…” I whispered still amused. “Inside a vase?”

He carefully opened it and put it on. “You never know.”

“Points for precaution.”

“Alright.” He was ready.

I looked down, well done. “Should be fine.”

Is it happening?

He positioned himself between my legs, his tip brushing against me, teasing.

"Sure?" he asked, his voice thick with need.

"Si," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. (Yes)

He better learn Spanish after this.

He entered me slowly, giving me time to adjust to his size. The feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. I clung to him, my nails digging into his back as he began to move, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body.

We moved together, our rhythm frantic, desperate. His lips found mine again, silencing the moans that threatened to escape. The pool table creaked beneath us, the sound almost drowned out by the pounding of my heart.

His hands moved to my breasts, kneading and pinching, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

“You..feel…so…good,” he murmured, his voice rough and strained.

“Ditto,” I cried.

He reached up, pulling me from the nape of my head. Our tongues tangling as our bodies moved in perfect harmony. I could feel the tension building, the pleasure growing with each thrust.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he gasped, his hands tightening on my hips.

“Me too,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

He thrust up into me, harder and faster, and I could feel the orgasm building, threatening to overtake me. And then it did, crashing over me in waves of pleasure. He groaned, his hips jerking as he came inside the condom.

We stayed like that for a moment, both of us breathing heavily, trying to catch our breath. Finally, he pulled me down, pecking my lips.

“That was…” he started.

“Yupp,” I whispered against his lips.

Now what?

@nosebeers @mrs-cactus69

hi i’m Vaz, this was just a product of my active imagination, free time and the need for a better outcome. Hope u enjoy xxx

Someone turn the A.C on.

👁️🫦👁️

#luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione x latina reader #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x yn

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heavens-crown · 3 months ago

Text

And They Were Neighbors Pt. 8

Master List

prev / next

CW: 18+ minors DNI, smut, blowjob, dirty talk, sir kink

taglist: @starkgaryan @gabsgabsvaz @happyfestpanda-blog

Delilah’s nerves threatened to get the better of her while she set the table. She was wearing a very skimpy nightgown that left nothing to the imagination. It was a pale pink with lace trimming, two slits up to her hip bones and the neckline plunged between her breasts. Once the table was set she made sure to turn on her Sleep Token playlist for some background noise. Once that was done she checked her phone to see a message from Robby.

[Robby: I’ll be home in 10 minutes]

Checking the time Delilah was about to sit down when she heard three knocks at the door. Ever the gentleman he refused to just let himself into her apartment, insisting on knocking first every time. Her stomach fluttered nervously as she walked over opening the door. Robby stood there smiling, then he saw what she was wearing and his eyes darkened as he drank in the sigh of her.

“Hey baby,” he said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. Dropping his backpack by the door he reached out and ran one of his hands down her side to toy with the lace trimming. “You get all dolled up for me?” He asked, stepping into her personal space, so close that her breasts touched his chest with every breath she took. Smiling, she gave him a chaste kiss before abruptly turning and heading toward the dining room table.

“Maybe I did,” she teased. “Come on dinner’s going to get cold.”

Robby barely tasted the food she had prepped, he was too busy staring at her in the nightgown. When she had turned and walked away he had to suppress a groan when he saw that it just barely covered her ass. She was chatting about how her day had gone and about her newest Tv show obsession but he barely heard the words watching as she leaned forward, her breasts just about spilling from the top of the nightgown. It almost felt like a punishment, seeing her all dolled up and beautiful as ever but not able to touch her how he wanted to. It took him a moment to realize she had asked him a question.

“I’m sorry baby, i was lost in my own little world there for a moment.” he apologized. She took a sip of her drink smiling sweetly at him.

“It’s all good, I was just asking if you wanted to cuddle on the couch with me. There’s a new movie I wanted to watch,” She explained. Robby felt his cock twitch when she brought up cuddling. Frankly he’d rather have her flat on her back eating her pussy right now, but he didn’t want to push his luck with her.

“That sounds good to me.” He said as he stood to clear off the table. It was another thing he did that he refused to allow her to do. His reasoning was she had cooked so he could at least clean up so she could rest. Once they were settled on the couch he had to suppress a groan when she curled into his side like she belonged there. He stretched his legs out, leaning further into the couch and wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her in place. Pressing a kiss to her head he could smell her shampoo a mix of coconut and vanilla. His cock was hard just having her pressed to his side, the nightgown hiding nothing from his gaze. This is definitely punishment, he thought. Robby wished he could say that he was a perfect gentleman and that he kept his hands to himself during the movie, but that would be a lie. He continuously ran his hand across her hip, sliding his hand under the soft material to rub circles into her hip bone. Delilah wasn’t innocent in this either. She’d press the occasional kiss to his chest or rubbing his thigh just avoiding making contact with his now hard as fucking steel cock. He was about to say fuck it and drag her into his lap when she peeked up at him with her ‘im so angelic’ smile.

“Hey Robby, can I ask you something?” she asked while playing with the strings on his hoodie. Robby squeezed her hip curious to see what she was going to ask.

“Of course,” he answered. She bit her lip, a smile still on her face as she blushed before she spoke.

“Can I suck your cock while the movie finishes?” she asked sweetly. Groaning Robby fisted his hand in her hair and roughly kissed her. Pulling back slightly he could see that the flush on her skin was darker now and that her nipples had hardened.

“You want to suck my cock baby girl?” he asked softly. He kept his hand fisted in her hair as he studied her face for a moment longer. “Get on your knees.” It was nothing short of an order. Before he knew it she knelt between his spread thighs waiting patiently as he undid his pants and pulled his cock out. He fisted her hair again as she wrapped a dainty hand around his cock before licking from the base to the tip. Then stealing the breath from him she sucked his cock down her throat sucking harshly as she did so. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed.

Apparently that was all the encouragement she needed cause then she was pulling his cock to the back of her throat. Her mouth was wet and warm, the way she sucked and curled her tongue just right sent shocks down his spine. At this rate he’d be blowing his load down her throat before he could get her into bed. The sounds are down right filth, he can see a thin line of drool going down her chin. He yanks her mouth off him by her hair holding her place. Her lips are swollen and her eyes are hooded as she smiles at him.

“Did you not like it sir?” she asks, faux concern in her voice. That makes the last thread of his control snap, because then he's yanked her up and begins swiftly heading to the bedroom. Delilah squeals and grips his shoulders tight, only letting go when he drops her on the bed. Bouncing a bit when she hits the bed she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Turn over,” his voice is gruff and she doesn’t hesitate in doing what shes told. Robby quickly sheds his clothes before he’s knelt behind her, one hand in the middle of her back and shoving two fingers from his other hand into her cunt. A low moan is pulled from her as he plays with her watching as she squirms trying to fuck herself on his fingers. “Already so fucking wet.” He yanks his fingers from her ignoring the whine she lets out. Grabbing a condom he has it wrapped around his cock before he’s slamming into her in one hard thrust.

Delilah all but screams when he thrusts inside of her, her tight pussy squeezing his cock so hard it almost hurts. He gives her just a moment to adjust before he starts roughly pounding into her. With every thrust he can feel the head of his cock bumping her cervix, can feel the way her pussy spasms around him trying to milk his cock. One of his hands sneaks its way into her hair gripping tightly and yanking her head back.

“Such a good fucking girl for me,” he growls. She doesn’t respond except for a moan, he can see her hands gripping the sheets tightly. With his free hands he slaps her ass cheek hard, a red hand print appearing almost instantly. Another whimper from her and he nips at her shoulder hard. “You want to cum baby?” he groans as he feels another spasm of her pussy around him.

All she can get out is a choked ‘please’ and that’s all the encouragement he needs. Shoving her face against the mattress he fucks into her harder than before, the grip on her hair tighter, his free hand gripping her hip holding her still. A few thrusts later and she shatters, fingers clawing at the sheets and her pussy becomes a vice damn near choking his cock. His own release finds him a minute later, he thrusts turned jerky as he cums. Carefully he laid himself over her, pressing a kiss to the bite mark on her shoulder.

Robby carefully pulls himself from her, running his hands across her shaking thighs. She’s laying there panting softly, her skin is flushed and she looks heavenly. For a moment just looking at her like this Robby feels a wave of possessiveness so fierce it makes his chest ache. Smoothing her hair from her face he smiles a bit at the dazed look on her face. ‘Cock drunk’ is what she had dubbed the look, and in the moment he wholeheartedly agrees.

“You doing ok baby?” he asks. He’s rubbing his hands up and down any inch of skin he can reach. She hums in agreement, relaxing into the mattress with a sigh. Robby chucks as he gets up to get a washcloth for her. Once he gets her cleaned up, he climbs into bed next to her pulling the blankets over them. She burrows into him already dozing off.

“Missed you,” she mumbles. Something in Robby’s chest constricts at the drowsy words. He didn’t realize just how far she had wormed herself into his life until he hadn’t slept beside her for a night. Pressing a kiss to her head, he simply wraps himself around her succumbing to the pull of sleep.

“Missed you more baby girl.”

#dr robby x reader #michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #the pitt fanfiction #dr robby

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pinkslipxox · 8 months ago

Note

Oh my god hear me out!! So how about a fluff to smut? Reader is Mexican and has curly hair, and Miko overhears her friends talk badly about your hair at a gathering or some sort of party, reader hears and Miko being the best girlfriend ever stands up for you. And when you two get home, it ends in yummy strap-on sex!!

(IM IN LOVE W YOUR MIKO FICS)

Hola, mami!!! Youre so sweet xx Yesss omg hope you like it 😘😘❤️

——————————————————————————

Miko loves everything about you. Especially your hair. She loves how bouncy the look, the way they feel as she rubs your head as you fall asleep on her chest, and how it always smells of your coconut and shea butter shampoo and conditioner. Your family described your hair as ‘pelo chino’ in their Mexican Spanish, something that always gave Miko a chuckle whenever she heard you say it.

In her eyes, there is no one in the world as beautiful as you.

Tonight you and Miko are over at Mauro’s house where he is hosting a get together with lots of friends and acquaintances that Miko knew. She brought you along, of course, wanting to share the evening with you and introduce you to everyone. While you are sitting with Mari, Miko is sat around with a small group of friends, listening in on a story before she gets up to grab a beer.

And that’s when she hears it. Your name being whispered amongst the group, followed by quiet laughter and jeers. Miko freezes.

“I bet Miko wishes she had straight hair— there’s no way in hell I’d be seen with someone who looks like they’ve just woken up,” one of them sneers, scrunching up their face in disgust as the other friends snicker.

“Dios mío, parece que tiene un nido de ratas en la cabeza,” another chimes in, their eyes looking up at you up and down with disdain. The snickers turn into laughs, careless and taunting.

Miko’s blood boils.

In the midst of her anger, Miko’s heart aches for you. You, blatantly unaware of what was being said about you, continue to giggle and talk with Mari across the room. You barely even know the people who were talking about you behind your back, and they barely even know you, either. How dare they?

Miko doesn’t even think twice and storms over to them. Her chest rises up and down with anger. And her fists are to her side, clenched.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Miko growls at her friends, and the group’s faces grow pale as they all snap their heads up to see Miko, unaware that their comments have been heard. The first friend opens her mouth to say something but the other one beats her to it.

Unbeknownst to Miko, your attention draws to the confrontation.

“Tranquila, Miko, no estaba hablando en serio,” she protests with an awkward chuckle and Miko clenches her jaw.

“Esa es mi novia de la que estabas bromeando,” Miko snaps, her tone sharp. “Ni siquiera la conoces y bromeas sobre su cabello. If you can’t respect her, then we can’t be fucking friends.”

At that moment, Miko feels a hand touch her shoulder. She instinctively knows that it’s you, and she prays that you didn’t hear anything that was being said. Yet when looks at you and sees your tear-filled eyes, her fears are confirmed.

You had heard everything.

“Que se vayan a la mierda todos ustedes,” Miko snarls, shooting one last menacing glare at her two now ex-friends before turning to you, her expression softening instantly as she takes your hand in hers. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go.”

Without another word, Miko leads you out of the room and out the door. She helps you get in the car before hurrying to the driver’s seat.

“Estás bien, mi vida?” Miko asks softly, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze, and despite you nodding, Miko knows better.

The car ride home is silent. Miko glances every now and then at your direction, her heart aching at the sight of your sad expression, and she is racking her brains for a way to make you feel better. She helps you get out of the car once you two arrive home, her arm wrapped around you, tightly, protectively, and the moment you two sit down on the couch, you break down.

“Ay, Y/N.” Miko pulls you to her lap, gently guiding your head to her chest. “No te pongas así, eres demasiada linda para llorar.”

Each sob that comes out from you only makes Miko’s heart twist. She gently rocks your body from side to side, peppering you in kisses, whispering sweet nothings as your sobs turn from cries to soft whimpers and hiccups. You’ve calmed down now, but Miko can tell that you’re still upset.

“Is it true what they said, Miko? My hair looks like a rat’s nest?” you murmur softly, and ever so gently, Miko lifts your chin up.

“Claro que no, Y/N. Your hair is absolutely beautiful. They have no idea what they’re talking about.” Miko pecks your lips, softly, gently. “Eres hermosa, mi amor, no creas nada de lo que dicen, por favor.”

“Thank you, Miko,” you sigh after a beat of silence, nuzzling into her touch. “Can we cuddle, please?”

Miko coos. “Yes, of course, my love. Quieres hacerlo aquí o en nuestro cuarto?”

“Nuestro cuarto,” you reply, sniffling, and with that, Miko lifts you off the couch with ease and carries you to the bedroom.

Miko carefully places you down, her eyes silently asking you for permission, and with a nod, she begins to take off your clothes. It’s your favorite way to cuddle, skin to skin, limbs tangled together, and Miko is more than willing to join you if it meant your happiness and comfort. Once Miko strips out of her clothing, she leads you the bed by the hand. Under the covers, she wraps her arms around you, and kisses the top of your head.

“Gracias, baby,” you hum, cuddling closer to your girlfriend.

Miko smiles softly. “No hay que agradecerme, mi amor. Estoy aquí para ti. Always.”

You lift your head up and kiss her cheek. Miko then gently cups your cheek, stroking your skin with her thumb as she looks into your eyes for a moment, and then connects her lips with yours. The kiss is gentle and soft, and Miko feels you melt into her, your hand lightly grilling the back of her neck, the sound of your soft moans making Miko’s heart flutter. Miko then pulls away slightly.

“Is this okay?” Miko murmurs softly, searching your eyes, and she doesn’t hesitant to reconnect her lips as soon as you nod your head.

The kiss becomes more passionate with a hint of urgency in it, your soft moans and gasps giving Miko all the confidence she needs to move forward. Her travels down to the valley of your breasts, gently sucking on the soft flesh, before going further down to your stomach and just below your belly button. She then kisses your lips again, her tongue massaging with yours as one hand kneads your one of your breasts, just how she knows you like it.

“Strap, please,” you whimper and Miko nods.

“Of course,” Miko obliges. She quickly puts it on and aligns herself with your entrance, your leg hooked around her waist. “Lista, mami?”

At your consent, Miko thrusts inside you, earning a moan from you as you throw your head back in pleasure. Miko can’t help but marvel how gorgeous you look underneath her, your eyelids closed, your lips formed into perfect O-shape as your moans echo the bedroom, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. It just makes her just question how someone could ever say anything bad about your appearance. And Miko vows that no one ever will.

Not on her watch.

“Miko… Miko…” you whimper and she knows that you’re close.

“Cum for me, hermosa,” Miko encourages, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

You arch your back, calling Miko’s name as your orgasm takes over you, your legs shaking and breathing ragged. She’s never seen you look so beautiful. And so hers.

“I love you, María Victoria,” you murmur as Miko leans her forehead against yours.

“Not as much as I love you. Mi nenita linda,” Miko coos, her fingers brushing your damp curls from your face. “Ahora y para siempre.”

#young miko #young miko x fem!reader #young miko x y/n #young miko blurb #young miko x reader #young miko fic #young miko imagine #young miko x you #young miko fanfiction #young miko fluff #young miko smut

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