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a-b-riddle · 3 days

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Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #grovel #we love a good grovel don't we girls

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luveline · 2 months

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If you’re still up for requests — could you maybe do one where peter or remus comes home after a visibly bad day and the reader misinterprets his behavior and assumes he’s upset with her instead ?? like she’s walking on eggshells, silently fussing around trying to figure out what she did, meanwhile all he wants to do is hold her and decompress 🥺☹️

absolutely no pressure! <33

“Oh my god.” Peter lets out a pained groan at the door, followed by the plastic crinkle of shopping bags hitting the floor. “My back. Jesus.”

You look up in surprise from your book at the table. “I thought we were going together?”

“I couldn’t face coming home and going out again.” He drags the bags to the fridge and pauses. “I figured you’d be okay with not having to go?”

“Sure,” you agree immediately. He has a black cranky fog around him, you can practically feel it as you get up to help him unpack the bags. He doesn’t seem best pleased with you.

He rubs his eyes, rubs his mouth, and turns to the sink. He runs the faucet, pulling one of the glasses back off of the draining board to fill, and wincing at the harsh sound when he turns it too fast. Peter forgets his own strength every now and then —usually when he’s not feeling well.

Peter gives you a funny look as you step into his space. You quickly step out of it and start to load groceries into the fridge and cabinets, pleased to find he’s bought the things you would’ve gotten yourself and even some things you’d have wanted but not allowed yourself. Maybe he’s not that mad after all—

“God damn,” he says, rolling an empty bag into a ball in his hand, “I forgot the fucking laundry detergent again.”

“That’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, you’ve asked me to get it three times this week.”

“I was just reminding you,” you say, fingers tingling with the potential of an impending argument. “It’s fine. We haven’t run out yet, we can squeeze another wash out of it. I’ll get some tomorrow.”

He sits down in the chair you’d been sitting in and moves your book and plate of snacks aside, neither gentle nor rough about it. “Damn,” he says again, dropping his face into his hands.

“Pete…”

His eyes must be sore by now he’s rubbing them so much, hands held to his eyes and fingers scratching into his hair. He tips his face toward the table and lets himself sit with whatever it is that’s getting him down. Me, you think worriedly. I shouldn’t have asked him to get groceries today. You knew he had a longer shift than usual, and that he’d want to do some Spidering afterward.

You’ve sorry on the tip of your tongue when he lays his face heavily in one hand, elbow on the table barely keeping him up, and holds the other out toward you. Rejecting him doesn’t even cross your mind.

“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, taking your hand as soon as you offer it and dragging you toward him. You peer down at him with wide eyes as he wraps his arm around you, his nose quick to hide in the linen of your shirt. His voice tickles, “I just wanted to be with you. I knew this would make me feel better.”

There’s a little dry barb at the back of your throat you can’t speak past. Peter doesn’t notice, rubbing his cheek in your side as he repositions you for optimal hugging. He lets out a self-pitying whine, second arm joining the first in a lock behind your back. “You smell amazing.”

“I do?” you ask finally.

“I think you’re just made for me, angel,” he says, voice dragging with fatigue. “You always smell good.”

You squint with lips pursed, blinking in confusion as you bring your hand up to his hair. “Thanks for going to the store.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t function without groceries either, anyways.” He sighs with the particular Parker brand of lovelorn contentedness, a familiar sound. He makes the same noise when you’re tucked up in bed together on the weekends with nowhere to go, or holding hands on the subway travelling home, knee to knee or intertwined. “Can’t believe how quickly you make me feel better,” he murmurs.

“I kinda thought you were mad at me,” you confess, matching his tone.

“You have some strange wires crossed in your brain,” he says. His sympathy and affection for you is palpable; his hand tracks a soft line down the curve of your back.

“Yeah, I know. Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask, pressing your face to the mop of his thick hair.

He hugs you tightly. “You’re my dream girl.”

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pileofmush · 7 months

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luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.

when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun.

you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.

you never considered that he would turn his sights on you.

but he does.

he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down.

it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.

and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.

but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.

and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer.

and he’s burrowed himself under your skin.

how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.

but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t.

everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.

“what’s wrong?”

you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge.

luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.

“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?”

he shrugs. “wherever you want.”

and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him.

you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him.

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfiction #fluff #one piece fluff #pining #tw: drug mention #m.luffy #m.op #battle scarred;

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prettyoatmeal · 5 months

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Ghost wants to be pampered, there's no doubt about it. Man will actively purr when you use your hands to soothe his aching muscles or rub shampoo into his hair.

But it isn't just physical affection he craves, acts of service make him weak to his knees.

Cook his favourite meal after a gruelling day. Run him a bath in the oversized tub you share. Pick out his clothes for the day just because.. why not? Even if it's just buying him that special bag of sweets he likes, whatever you do for him he just can't say no when you take care of him. No matter how much his pride would deny it.

He's confident. He can cook for himself, he can clean himself, he can dress himself. But the sheer intimacy of it? Things that would initially seem small, he notices, and it makes him soft.

At his worst, which is impossible since in your eyes he's always at his best, he would almost start to tear up. Finding himself in such mentally and physically torturing situations, he wants nothing more than to relax and decompress with his comfort meal and comfort person. You've given that to him, and he could never be more thankful.

At his best, he's kissing you all over your face, your palms, your wrists, anywhere he could get his hands on, showing you his gratitude. He's helping you clean up, helping you tidy. He forgets who really needs the attention in the moment. How could he ever repay you? What did he do to deserve the most caring, loving person on this planet?

He doesn't know, and maybe he may not ever. But what he does now, is that he will never grow tired of the way you treat him.

#cod mw2 #call of duty #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #Ghost headcanons #Ghost cod #Ghost x reader #Ghost mw2 #Ghost x reader smut #Simon Riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #Simon Riley fluff #Simon Riley smut #Ghost Headcanons #Simon Riley Headcanons #Ghost Imagines #Simon Riley Imagines #mw2 imagines #mw2 x you

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forest-king · 2 years

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Love feeling like I’m not welcome in my own apartment bc my roommate doesn’t know how to deal with his own emotions and exist around other people

#ffs i hate it here #he makes his mental health my problem and our roommate’s problem #bc he won’t go to therapy #idk why he won’t #his job also treats him like garbage #and he just stays bc he likes the owner #when the owner is too busy or whatever to take care of the shitty coworkers he has #he literally told me that he can’t decompress when i’m at the apartment #and i don’t have a lot of options for where i can go #bc my closest friend is an hour away and works at a school #closest like distance-wise #and i’m a homebody anyways #i don’t do bars #or clubs #and i’m autistic so loud environments are bad for me #the city is a half hour away #and i’m broke bc i’m unemployed #i’m trying to find a job #but now my roommate is fucking pissed at me bc the schedule we all had for almost a year is gone and he doesn’t know how to adapt #which is NOT my problem #literally the only place i can go is the library bc it’s free and close #don’t i have every right to my own apartment?#i paid rent for this month #all my shit’s here #i’ve picked up on chores where i can in the meantime #this is so frustrating it makes me want to pull out all my hair

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scudslut · 3 months

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ahhh yes yes, I haven’t written him too subby on here yet so I was super excited to write this❤️ I hope you like it @darylsgirl23 <3

Heartsease

Daryl x f!reader

Setting: Bridge Camp/Post Savior War

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+, softdom reader, unestablished relationship (but both know there’s a little somethin somethin iykwim), aka your his and everyone knows it, oral (m - receiving), unprotected piv, premature finish

Daryl was never one to keep still.

It made him anxious to be in one place for too long, always going on runs and patrols ensuring his people were as safe and provided for as they could be. He felt at ease outside the walls, out of people's prying gazes, and left alone to do his part for the community in peace. These days though, he was a flurry of activity. Hardly ever in the same spot long enough to see the sun rise and set again.

You knew he felt guilty - that he was angry and didn't know how to release it. You'd watch him work on the bridge for hours, frustration seeping out of his bones and into the atmosphere around him. It hung off him like a phantom.

The vast majority of the community was intimidated by it. They would walk on eggshells in his presence as if they could predict an oncoming outburst. But you knew better, you knew him.

He was angry at the world, yes. But he was distraught with himself... his own mind. It ran a mile a minute and gave absolutely zero reprieve. Anyone could see that if they dug just a bit deeper, looked at him a little closer.

Sure he was strong and burly; a true beast of a man, but he was also quiet and thoughtful. He cared so deeply about others that it frightened him to his core. All he wanted was to protect his family and do right by them.

And you saw all of that.

You had for years now and it only made your desire for him stronger. You wanted to thank him. Drop down to your knees and worship every freckle and scar that made him, him. He deserved it, deserved an escape.

Initially, you thought maybe he wasn't into that and preferred to keep his relationships asexual, to which you were perfectly happy to abide by. Any time spent with him was cherished time in your eyes. But during a sleep-deprived chat with Carol one night on patrol, long ago, you had found out he did have a few sexual encounters before the apocalypse. Just none that had truly meant much to him, or that he was entirely sober for.

That small bit of insight helped you understand the man so much more and you carefully dropped your hints from that point on. However, with your luck, every time you thought something might happen between you two, the moment would slip right through your aching fingers, dusted away by whatever imminent danger lurked behind each corner.

To be quite honest, you were getting fed up with the world's continuous cruel jokes, and from the looks of things, Daryl could use a healthy distraction right about now.

Ears perking at the familiar rumble you'd grown to love, you watched as he pulled up on his trusty, beaten-up Nighthawk, finally returning from a longer visit at Hilltop. You could see the sheen layer of sweat built up above his furrowed brows, his teeth nibbling away at his lower lip - an anxious habit you had picked up on mere days after meeting him.

His mind was bothering him. That much was clear.

He shuffled quickly to his tent, gaze transfixed on the muddy shoes he wore, avoiding any onlookers who wanted to ask their silly questions, throwing the flaps open, and disappearing in a fluster.

You knew better than to bother him now, give him some time to gather his thoughts and decompress. You whittled away at your spears, biding the time as you devised a plan on how you would approach him. After all, the last thing you wanted was to scare him off or embarrass him in any way. He was reserved when it came to these situations, unsure of himself. The few times you had brushed lips or touched him a bit heatedly, he was jumpy and almost insecure, as if he needed instructions on how he should behave. It was extremely endearing to you; like a stray pup who just needed a little reassurance and affection to calm his fierce walls of doubt.

It was almost dusk when you finished with your spears, gathering them up and placing them near some of the other weapons the community used when needed. You scanned the grounds, noticing everyone collected by the fire, dishing up for a late dinner. You quickly made your way over, grabbing two portions and slipping away before you were noticed and stopped for conversation. You knew Daryl wouldn't get one for himself, spew some excuse that 'he wasn't hungry' or was 'too tired' when really, he just didn't want to take away from another. Even if that meant he didn't eat or drink anything for days at a time. It made your heart blister for more reasons than one.

You balance both plates on your left arm, reaching to pull the flaps open slowly, not wanting to startle him with your arrival, "Dar? You asleep?" you whisper into the dim den.

You hear a grunt, some shuffling, and in a moment a soft glow fills the area as he lights a nearby lamp, perching up on his small cot, "I was."

Flicking off your boots, you zip the entrance closed behind you, "I brought you some dinner, figured you'd be hungry after your trip," You smile and he mutters a quiet thanks, opting to accept your kind offer rather than argue with you, he knew you wouldn't take no for answer anyway. He scoots to the side, creating a spot for you to sit while you two eat in comfortable silence. He liked that you didn't feel the need to fill the air, that you could simply enjoy each other's company without all the small talk. You were one of the few people he'd met in his life, who just inherently understood him, down to the most basic level. He hated leaving you all the time like he had been, just another thing to nag at his over-exhausted mind.

Hearing him sigh quietly, you cast your eyes over, watching as he scrapes up the remaining crumbs off his plate, placing it outside the tent along with yours for you both to deal with in the morning.

"I imagine your pretty tired, huh?" You ask, following his movements as he plops down again beside you.

"Nah, not really. Got a few hours 'fore ya came bustin' in here," he grumbles with a small smirk and you lean into him nudging his shoulder playfully. "Why ya wanna chat or somethin'?"

You consider him for a minute, trying to find the proper words to initiate what was truly on your mind. You knew you had no reason to be nervous. That even though you'd never labeled anything between you guys, you both felt it. Knew it was there. You just needed the right moment. Now was as good a time as any, you figured.

"No, I just- I wanna try something."

He nods his head for you to continue, so you scoot closer, placing your hand delicately on his shoulder and bringing your face centimeters from his. You stop just before you close the gap, gauging his reaction. His breath hitches slightly and you feel his pulse rapid under your fingertips, but he doesn't pull away. Taking that as the only confirmation you'll get, you press your lips to his softly, brushing your thumb against his stubbly, pink cheek. He takes a good minute to respond, carefully moving his lips back against yours and placing his hands on your hips. You feel him squeeze, eliciting a quiet moan of encouragement from you and he all but sinks into your touch, falling into a comfortable rhythm with your lips. You stay like that for a while, breathing in his piney scent and relishing in his gentle kneads at your waist. It wasn’t much to the untrained eye, but you knew that was his way of pouring his affection into you without so many words. His way of telling you he was yours.

You drag your kisses down his neck, nibbling and sucking at the salty flesh between his collarbones. His breaths grow uneven and you can feel him begin to tense again, unused to such personal attention, "Is this okay?" You ask, not wanting to push him past his boundaries. He only nods in response, his throat feeling like the Sahara.

He has to admit, he's thought about this many times, relieved himself to thoughts of you too many times to count over the years. He's just never known how to approach you about it, scared you'd reject him or he'd do something wrong.

He watches as you slip to your knees before him, your eyes glued to his. "You'll let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?" As he tries to nod in response again, you stop him, "I need you to say it to me," You press.

"Y-yea, I'll say somethin'," he whispers timidly and you grin, beginning to unbuckle his belt and slip his raged jeans down. You kiss down his strong thighs, feeling them tremble slightly beneath you. His hard-on is poking through his boxers and you drag your lips across it, placing soft pecks down the length of him, listening to his breathy pants. You didn't realize how turned on you'd be, having him all flushed and needy for you, but god were you enjoying it. Slipping your fingers into the waistband, you tug them down and his cock springs free, precum leaking from the pretty, pink tip.

"You dun have'ta," he mutters, anxiety sweeping over him fast, even though he really, really does want to. You catch his gaze, noticing how dark his stormy eyes have gotten.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart," you reply, pressing soft kisses from the base to tip, feeling him pulse under your touch. You enclose your mouth around him, taking almost his entire length at once and you hear a guttural groan from above you, his knuckles white from the clutch they had on the bedsheets.

You wondered if he had ever had a woman go down on him before. Judging by the gasps and twitches he was emitting, if he had, it hadn't been for a very long time.

He bucks into you, searching in a daze for more friction, and you pin his hips down, earning a deep whine from him. You knew if he wanted to, he could easily overpower you, use your mouth to his heart's content, but he wouldn't. He wanted you to take charge. Needed it.

Raking your eyes over his heaving figure, you slide your tongue along his shaft, moving in slow, sensual circles as you bob up and down. Daryl's head is tossed back, eyes screwed shut and you can tell he won't last much longer. The sensitivity of not being touched in so long, sprinting towards him at full speed. You pull back, slowing your movements. He lifts his head off the wall, pale blue eyes blown to darkness as he watches you take him so sweetly, "Please," He whispers.

When you shake your head, humming a soft, "Not yet," as best you can around him, his eyes roll back into his skull, entirely overwhelmed by the overstimulation, but loving it nonetheless. "I-I can't," He gasps, his accent muddled even stronger in his lustful state. You have to squeeze your legs tighter, clenching around nothing hearing your man so utterly wrecked beneath you. You want to draw it out for hours. Have him begging you to let him cum down your awaiting throat. However, you decide you both have waited damn long enough to prolong your union even more.

Releasing him with a soft kiss to his leaking tip, you stand in front of him, shimmying out of your clothes as quickly as you can. "Lay down for me, baby,' You direct, moving the straddle him as he eagerly follows your orders, turning lengthwise on the makeshift bed. His eyes never leave yours as you sit down on him, groaning when he feels how wet you are pressed against his cock. "Have you thought about this before, pretty boy?" His cheeks flush crimson at your sultry compliments, nodding curtly whilst avoiding your stare.

"Dar." You press.

You were being so gentle yet stern with him it was making it brain fuzzy, all stressors from the day long washed away to be replaced by only you.

"Have, yeah," He huffs in embarrassment, trying with great difficulty not to portray how truly turned on your words were making him. But you saw right through him... or rather felt him. You lean forward, kissing and nipping up his neck to the shell of his pink ears, "Do you want me to stop?"

A full-body shiver jolts through him when he feels your warm breath against his ear, involuntarily rolling his hips into yours and you chuckle at his obvious sensitivity. He knows he needs to use his words. You won't be letting him off that easy. "Please don't," Is all he manages and it seems to do the trick. You grip his length, tracing it along your soaked folds, and slowly sink down. Your careful as you take in his reaction, scanning his expression for any signs of discomfort. He bites his lip, his eyes squeezed shut and lets out a muffled groan.

"Fuck," He mumbles, and you're surprised to hear him say anything you didn't need to pry out of him. A positive sign, you determined and start to bounce your hips slowly, creating a synchronized dance between your bodies. Your body is buzzing as you ride him, finally feeling the dull ache you’ve had for the man below you begin to dissipate as he whimpers oh so softly for only you to hear. His hands grip your waist hard enough to leave bruises to find in the morning, but you hardly give it a second thought. All you can think about is Daryl. His closeness, his warmth and strength, and-

He tenses beneath you, broken gasps leaving his chewed lips and suddenly he’s lifting you off of him, soaking your thighs and abdomen completely. You gawk as you watch him come down, sworn you haven’t ever seen something so fucking sexy in your life. His head tossed back, jumbled curses leaving his mouth, and dark auburn hair dripping with sweat. You don’t care that he finished before you, this was about him. But you see his eyes snap to yours when he fully comes back down to reality, cheeks blazing for a different reason than before.

Leaning towards him, you capture his lips with your own, tenderly pouring your affection into him, needing him to know you weren’t upset, “It’s okay, relax,” you whisper against him with a soft smile, leaning your forehead onto his. His eyes are filled with guilt, “I mean it, Dar,” And he’s back to his nods of response.

He didn’t need any more words of sympathy. He knew you were happy as a kid on Christmas, he just needed to accept it for himself. So with one last peck to his cherry lips, you slide off him, grab a rag to clean yourself up with, and scoot right in beside him, craving his warmth. He turns to you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling you impossibly closer to him, burying his head into the crook of your neck. You feel a few soft pecks from him along your jaw and you sigh contentedly, wrapping your limbs around his, reeling in your post-coital glow.

You were safe, snuggled with your love, and that was all you needed.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #twd drabbles #daryl dixon smut #daryl x reader #fem!reader #sub!daryl #subdom #dom fem reader #smut

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teapartyprincess4two · 3 months

Text

Full Set- M. Sturniolo

pairing: nailtech!reader x Matthew Sturniolo

classification: mostly fluff

warnings: use of y/n & slow build up just how I like it (HA)

summary: Reader is a well renowned nail tech in L.A and due to her growing popularity has become everyone’s go-to nail tech. This leads her to become a workaholic, stunting many of the areas of her life. Three regular customers work towards changing that.

—

“Girl! Do NOT tell me you took him back after that!” You exclaimed, commenting on the crazy story your client was currently telling you. You awaited her response as you diligently worked the acrylic bead on her nail bed. She laughed a little, her face turning red with embarrassment letting you know instantly that she most definitely had taken him back after that.

You scoffed slightly, shooting her a disapproving look before going back to the work at hand. “Just hear me out-“ she begins, but you quickly cut her off with the sound of the nail drill. She glared slightly at you before laughing again, realizing that this was your way of telling her you disapproved of her decision.

When you’re finally done filing and shaping her nails you continue, “I don’t want to hear any excuses, girl. I’m not working my magic to give you such a bomb ass set for you to waist it with a guy like that.”

She doesn’t skip a beat as she replies with a slight shrug, “Whatever girl, if you weren’t such a workalcoholic you’d find a man too. Life’s not all about work, work, work.” By the end of her statement she was humming Work by Rihanna and giving you a goofy smile.

In return, you offer her a sarcastic smile before replying, “I’m way too busy to be putting up with bullshit like that. I’ll gladly work my life away before I allow ANY man to disrupt my life.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, “Hmm. Whatever you say.”

The conversation was beginning to annoy you more than you realized so, before you said anything you’d later regret, you opened Spotify and pressed shuffle. You continued working on her hands as your playlist played softly in the background, contemplating whether or not you should completely mentally check out from the conversation. After mulling it over and realizing that it could cost you your tip, you decided against it, “You know what, girl? You’re so right.”

What you had said was simple, but it seemed to satisfy your client enough because she straightened her posture and held her chin high as if she’d truly won. She hummed to herself, feeling triumphant in her small ‘victory.’

“When am I ever wrong?” She asked, the entire situation inflating her ego. You threw another sarcastic smile her way and wondered if she realized you were only agreeing with her for the sake of professionalism. Before you could respond she continued, “Quick question though…” She paused for a moment, waiting for you to acknowledge her. You looked at her expectantly, bracing yourself for another round of choosing to keep quiet in case you said the wrong thing.

“Do you think we can add more glitter?”

—

After working on your tenth client, your work day was finally over. You swiftly cleaned up your work station, ensuring to prepare everything you’d need for the long list of clients awaiting you tomorrow. When you finally finished you made your way over to your room, your feet dragging on the floor. A loud sigh escaped you as you threw yourself onto your bed, rolling around until you were completely under the covers.

As draining as your career could be, you couldn’t help but over schedule and over-book yourself to make the most of your time and talent. It wasn’t until your last client walked out the door fully satisfied with their nail set that you’d allow yourself to decompress and relax. Even then, when you were tucked under your comforter, you found yourself checking your emails and dms in order to book more clients.

Today was no exception as you scrolled through your Instagram dms answering as many messages as you could, all of them inquiring about the services you provided, your hours of operation, and your next open availability. One message in particular caught your attention:

@ NicolasSturniolo: Hello! I was referred to you by a friend and was wondering when you’re free. My brothers and I would love to get a set by you.

For the most part all your clients were women, you’d never worked on a singular man before, let alone multiple. You clicked on his account, deciding to do some research before replying. As you scrolled through his account you realized that he had two brothers, making this a three in one deal. Immediately your brain lit up at the possibilities because not only would you be able to work on multiple clients during one session, but you’d also be opening your business up for any future male clients.

You quickly typed up your response, cross checking your calendar in order to ensure your dates were correct:

@ NailsByY/N: Hi! Thanks so much for reaching out! My next open availability is tomorrow, the 23rd, at 2:30pm. If that doesn’t work, I’m also available the 24th at 11am! I unfortunately won’t have any further openings until two weeks after that. Let me know what you decide!

Any message you sent from your work Instagram was always kept professional and straight to the point, especially with any potential new clients. You were about to place your phone on your nightstand and call it a night, but he replied a full three minutes later:

@ NicolasSturniolo: Yay! We’ll see you tomorrow at 2:30!

@ NailsByY/N: Awesome! I’ll go ahead and put you down for tomorrow. Feel free to bring any inspiration pictures. This is the address (click link to view), my house has a yellow door you can’t miss it. See you all tomorrow!

He didn’t reply, instead liking your message indicating he’d seen it. A smiled graced your face as you added the appointment to your calendar, feeling extremely satisfied with this business transaction before shutting your phone off, placing it on your nightstand and finally calling it a night.

—

The next morning you woke up bright and early, ready to conquer the day, completing your entire morning routine with enough time to do your makeup, get dressed, and eat breakfast. You had a total of 6 sessions to complete today all consisting of full acrylic sets or extremely detailed gel polish designs. Just the thought of getting through this work day excited you, especially because you were going to be working with new customers that you were eager to impress.

When you finished your breakfast you made your way down to your nail studio, immediately looking around the room to ensure everything was in order. After checking off everything on your mental list, you hummed in approval and opened the window to let the light in. Soon your first client arrived and your work day was in full swing.

Before you knew it, it was 2:30pm and you were entering the final stretch of the day. You cleaned up the mess from the previous set you’d just finished and waited patiently for your next clients to arrive. As you waited you sat back in your chair, stretching your legs out and popping your back in the process. A satisfied sigh leaves your body before you hear a soft knock come from the front door.

You immediately perk up at this, realizing that your final clients of the day are here. The walk from your studio to the front door is short, granting you enough time to listen in on the banter going on behind it.

“I bet it’s not even this house you dumbass!” You hear an exasperated voice yell, earning a slight chuckle from you.

“She said the door was yellow! What color do you see here, Chris?!” Another voice whisper yelled, trying their best to be quiet in case you could hear them. If you hadn’t been standing so close to the door you wouldn’t have heard it.

“This door’s not even- Oh you’re right, this door is yellow,” the first voice replied again.

“Just knock louder!” a third voiced interrupted, sounding annoyed with the entire interaction. Before anything else could be said you unlocked the door and opened it abruptly catching all three boys by surprise.

“Hello!” You greeted in a sing song voice attempting to ease any tension between the three. “Hi!” they all greeted in unison, offering you warm smiles. You returned the smile before asking, “Are you guys here for the 2:30 session?”

Of course you knew they were, but you needed some form of confirmation before inviting strangers into your home. “Yes! We booked it last night,” you recognized this boy as Nick, the boy you’d spoken to last night in regards to the appointment.

“Awesome, come in! My studios right back there,” you opened the door wider and gestured for them to walk inside, moving aside to allow room for them to enter. They piled in quickly, offering you more smiles as they looked around your house.

Your house was adorned from head to toe in all your favorite things including movie posters, cute throw pillows, various plants, and so many scented candles. As you closed and locked the door behind you, your cat ran across your living room and cut their path. “That’s my cat don’t mind her.” A nervous chuckle escaped your lips at the sight of your cat hurriedly making her way through your home.

Their eyes followed your cat as she quickly ran up the stairs and into your room. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?” One of the other two asked, averting his gaze from the direction your cat disappeared into to meet your eyes. You made a mental note to learn their names, noticing how similar they all looked. If you didn’t learn their names, you’d never be able to tell the difference between them at all. At this point the only one whose name you knew was Nick, but from the conversation you’d heard earlier you knew at least one of them was named Chris.

“Her name is Fat Mama,” you replied and laughed at how ridiculous it sounded out loud. Your cat’s name caused them to laugh as well, making you smile. “That’s quite a name she’s got there.” You realized you had just introduced your cat, but hadn’t even introduced yourself, “Oh my God, here I am introducing my cat without even telling you my own name.” They laughed at this, finding the situation equally as funny.

“I’m y/n,” you stretched a hand out for a handshake.

“Matt,” the first brother replied, taking your hand in his in a firm handshake. ‘Matt’ you noted mentally. He seemed nice and you now knew he liked cats due to your previous conversation. You two exchanged a smile before you moved onto the next brother, seeing as you knew which one was Nick you figured that this one had to be Chris.

“I’m Chris,” the second brother said, affirming your suspicions as he took your hand in an equally firm handshake, his long hair falling in front of his face slightly. Hmm, ‘Chris’ would be easy to identify seeing as he was the only one with long hair. You took another mental note of this as you offered him a smile and went on to greet the last of the three.

“And I’m Nick, but you knew that already,” the last brother said, an excited undertone laced in his voice. He seemed to be watching you as you deciphered which brother was which, taking notice at how your eyes were observing their features in an attempt to tell them apart. You smiled once again and nodded your head, taking his hand in yours for the last handshake.

“Cool! Now that we know who’s who, let’s get started! Follow me,” you turned around swiftly, motioning for them to follow you as you entered your studio. They were careful not to touch anything in the living room as they followed closely behind you in fear that they’d accidentally break something, instead they admired the aesthetic of the decor surrounding them.

As soon as they entered the room you got straight to work, working magic with your brushes as you detailed their nails. Throughout the session you took a few pictures for your Instagram, keeping your interactions as professional as possible up until the very end, but still taking the time to make conversation and get to know them. You learned that they were YouTubers who moved to L.A from Boston and made a career out of funny, engaging videos they filmed in their car. You found this pretty interesting and use it as a way to keep any attention off yourself, not wanting to get too personal too quick.

While you worked on the last set, Nick asked if he could schedule the next appointment seemingly satisfied with your work, “Girl, you ate this shit up! When is your next availability?” Chris and Matt agreed, admiring their nails from behind Nick. An accomplished smile graced your face as you adjusted his hand under the UV lamp, using your other hand to grab your phone from your pocket. Prepared to check your calendar and give him as accurate of an answer as possible you unlocked your phone before replying, “Hmm, my next availability is two weeks out.”

You scrolled through your calendar, clicking the exact date you were available, sliding the phone over to Nick. He used his free hand to look through the time stamps before picking another 2:30pm appointment and sliding the phone back to you.

—

The rest of your interactions with the triplets were similar to this until around the 4th time they booked with you. At this point, you were more comfortable around them and considered them regular customers. You now openly invited any and all conversation that allowed them to inquire about your personal life. Even Fat Mama got excited when they came around, immediately cuddling up to Matt.

“So no boyfriend?” Nick asked, watching as the brush you were holding twirled in your fingers and danced along his fingernail. You had already finished both Chris and Matt’s nails, both of them waiting in chairs behind Nick as you worked on his set. “Nope, no boyfriend,” you replied nonchalantly, your tongue poking out in concentration as you looked between the inspiration photo he showed you and his nail trying to recreate it as accurately as possible. From the interactions he’d had with you, Nick quickly realized you were a workaholic. And now that you’re admitting to not having a boyfriend, he’s beginning to suspect that you don’t do much other than work.

“What do you do for fun, then?” He hesitated to ask the question because he didn’t want to pry too much, but his curiosity got the best of him. You looked up from the nail you were working on, meeting his expectant gaze. The question caught you a bit off guard, immediately reminding you of the conversation you’d had with your client just a couple of months ago. ‘Work,’ you thought internally because working was truly fun for you. Work by Rihanna instantly played in your head as you remembered your clients words, ‘Life’s not all about work, work, work.’

You shook the thought out of your mind, breaking eye contact with Nick and averting your attention back to his nails. It would be easy to lie, they don’t know you well enough to know any better, but you decided against it, “I don’t have time for any of that, I work a lot.” You were satisfied with your answer, being proud in the fact that you were always working.

Unbeknownst to you, Matt was listening in on the entire conversation. Chris, on the other hand, had his airpods in so he couldn’t hear a thing. Not like he cared to listen anyway, he was too busy trying to pry Fat Mama from Matt. Fat Mama would just punch his hand away each time. “Oh c’mon, you have to have at least ONE free day,” Nick pushed, trying to see how far he could get before you changed the topic.

To his surprise you didn’t seem too bothered by his comment. In reality you’d heard it all before and had the perfect answer prepared. You grabbed your phone, once again opening your calendar and sliding it towards him. “Is this your way of telling me to shut up and book my next appointment?“ he laughed, looking down at your phone with a confused expression.

You ignored his question and instead posed him with a challenge, “Try and find my ONE free day.” A small smirk lifted at the corner of your mouth knowing he’d be scrolling forever until he found a free day in your schedule. Nick gladly accepted the challenge with a huff, allowing you to work on one hand as he used his free hand to scroll through your calendar. His eyes widened at the sight of your busy schedule, ready to give up. He swiped once more before jumping up with excitement. He had just found your ONE free day.

The sudden movement surprised you a bit causing you to look up at him. ‘There’s no way he actually found a day,’ you thought. He didn’t have to say it, you knew he had. You snatched the phone from him and inspected the screen, eyes widening at the sight of a day free of appointments. “What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself in disbelief as you attempted to refresh the screen in hopes that something would magically appear.

Nick’s face held a smirk, “I’d like to book that day.” You shrugged in response, clicking the date ready to pencil in a 2:30pm appointment as per usual, “fine with me.” He shook his head as a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, “but not with a nail appointment, a day out.”

“You’re crazy,” you laughed, not taking him seriously. You removed his hands from the UV lamp, making final touches to his nails.

“What’s so crazy about wanting to be your friend?” This time it was Matt who spoke which caught you by surprise because you never clocked that he was listening the entire time. Nick looked between you and Matt, just as surprised that he’d been listening. “There’s nothing crazy about it, I just don’t have time for that stuff.” Now that you were done with Nick’s nails, you found yourself messing with the brushes just for an excuse to escape this conversation.

“You clearly do, Nick just proved it.” Matt responded, a matter of fact tone to his voice.

Before you could respond, Chris let out a small yelp and held onto his hand, “Fat Mama just scratched me!”

—

When the triplets left your house both Nick and Matt made it clear that you didn’t have a choice on whether you got to spend your day off with them or not. The only thing Chris was worried about was whether or not Fat Mama was hiding behind a corner ready to attack him.

When the day finally arrived, you still woke up early. You did your routine as you normally did, finishing it in record time. You did your makeup, got dressed and ate breakfast quickly too. Nothing about your life was slow paced, you couldn’t even find it in you to take your time getting ready.

It seemed like the clock slowed down as you waited for 2:30 to finally roll around. By this point you had washed the dishes, cleaned the restroom, tidied up your bedroom, vacuumed the house, cleaned out Fat Mama’s litter box, and even organized your entire nail studio before 1pm. When you finished all these tasks you sat in your living room, watching the clock tick. That clock was taunting you, you were sure of it. A loud groan rang through your house, you were so bored out of your mind.

Finally at 2pm, you received a message from Nick on your personal Instagram:

@ NicolasSturniolo: We just finished putting gas, we’re on our way to yours. Be ready!

‘Be ready?!’ you thought. You’d been ready before the sun this morning! You exhaled loudly, attempting to contain yourself before replying:

@ Y/N: okay! I’ll wait for you guys outside :)

What you really wanted to say was, “I’m ready! I’ve BEEN ready!” but you’re glad you didn’t because his next text was actually really sweet.

@ NicolasSturniolo: We’re really excited! We have such a fun day planned!!

The message put a genuine smile on your face and changed your mood entirely. You made sure to like it before turning your phone off and throwing it in your purse. You gathered your things and pushed yourself off the couch, calling out a quick goodbye to your cat as you walked out the door even though she was definitely not listening and definitely didn’t care that you were leaving. When you made your way outside you sat down on the front doorstep, waiting patiently for the triplets to arrive.

Their car pulled into your drive way a few minutes later causing you to immediately spring up from your spot on your doorstep. As you made your way towards their car, you noticed Nick and Chris put their windows down and begins waving and shouting at you to hurry up.

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the movie at the pace you’re walking, kid,” Chris snickered, watching as you quickened your pace. “Are you excited?!” Nick asked, his face completely lighting up as you took a seat beside him in the backseat. Honestly, you were excited. This was the first time you’d been out with friends in a long time and it was definitely your first time going out with any of your clients.

“I’m VERY excited,” you replied as you buckled yourself into your seat and exaggerated your tone slightly to sound more excited than you were. Matt looked back at you from the drivers seat, beginning to back out of your drive way with his right hand against the passenger seat to gain a better look out his rear view window. For whatever reason this view of him put you in a trance and you had completely tuned Nick out.

“Y/n! Y/N!” Nick clapped his hands in front of your face, breaking you from your trance and reeling you back into reality. “Did you hear anything I just said?!”

You looked between him and Matt, who was now staring at you from the rear view mirror with a puzzled expression. You coughed awkwardly and averted your gaze, looking at Nick instead. Chris was also looking at you, his whole body shifted towards the middle console. “Um- Yeah, no. I heard nothing,” you attempted to sound casual.

“I just told you our whole schedule for the night, but since you weren’t listening I’m not repeating it,” Nick admitted, looking a little annoyed at the situation. You were annoyed too, annoyed that you had missed the whole nights itinerary and that Matt‘s attention was no longer on you. The second sentiment felt a little weird, you’d never thought about Matt like that until now.

“Everyone shut up and listen to this BANGER,” Chris exclaimed, breaking the awkward tension and pressing play on his phone. Immediately the car was flooded with trap music and you sat back in your seat allowing the night to go on.

—

The boys truly had an eventful night planned, it quickly became the most eventful day you’d ever had. First, you all went to the theater to watch the new Barbie movie. You’d actually been meaning to watch this movie, so this was a very welcomed experienced. After the movie theater, they took you to play mini golf. Chris ended up beating you all and boasted about his score all the way to your third destination, a local pizza shop.

While at the pizza shop, the four of you engaged in meaningful, heartfelt conversations as you shared childhood stories and swapped secrets causing the booth you were sat in to fill with laughter. Throughout these conversations, you and Matt kept stealing glances at each other. It was slowly driving you insane.

When you finished eating, they invited you over to their house to play video games. They hyped up the games they had, claiming that it would be so much fun. You were fully expecting to go home after the pizza shop and even more prepared to decline their kind offer. You had a full day of appointments waiting for you tomorrow, it was a better than perfect excuse, but before you could even open your mouth to protest Matt had already started speaking. “It’s going to be so much fun, y/n. You’ll love it,” his eyes were once again watching you through the rear view mirror, watching closely for your reaction. How were you going to decline their offer after that?

“Fine, okay. I’ll go,” you agreed in defeat. They all cheered in excitement as Matt began the drive to their house.

Once you finally arrived at their house, they immediately gave you a house tour. They showed you the kitchen, their podcast room, each of their rooms, and finally the living room. They quickly set up the gaming system, turning the tv on and shuffling through a multitude of games. “What game do you wanna play?” Matt asked enthusiastically, he seemed really excited to start playing.

He handed you the controller, allowing you to shuffle through the options presented on the screen, “ummm…” You seemed to shuffle through every option at least 5 times before deciding on a game. “This one?” It came out like a question mostly because you were unsure about what the game was about, you only chose it because it seemed the easiest. He had been looking at you the whole time, admiring your inquisitive look as you thought hard as to what game to choose, not realizing what game it even was.

Nick, who had been looking down at his phone the whole time, looked up to see what game you’d chosen. Your choice caused him to laugh out loud, grabbing Chris’s attention too. Chris looked at the screen and had the same reaction, “Y/n, you have to pick another game. Matt does NOT play about his Fortnite.” Chris’s comment was meant to tease and embarrass him, but Matt perked up at the mention of the game, finally breaking eye contact with you and looking up towards the tv.

Without hesitation he opened the game, waiting for it to load and scooting in closer to you on the couch. “What the fuck is Fortnite?” You asked, completely bewildered. “What the fuck is Fort- What the fuck is Fortnite? Only the best game 13 year old me ever played,” Matt replied, his response coming out so quick that it earned a laugh from the rest of you.

—

For the first couple of games you just watched them play and at first it was really interesting and you’d get excited whenever they would, but soon you were yawning slightly during the boring parts where they were looking for supplies or running through random fields. Your head fell and rested on Matt’s shoulder, your eyes feeling very heavy. You watched as his fingers frantically clicked buttons, your eyes locking onto his nails and mentally patting yourself on the back for your work.

Before you knew it, you were fast asleep. Matt noticed this and decided he was done playing, handing the controller to Chris who eagerly took ahold of it and immediately locked into the game. Nick had also dozed off, his head resting on the armrest to the left of him.

Matt slumped a little in his seat, careful not to wake or disturb you. His eyes shifted down towards you, taking in your full beauty as you rested calmly against his shoulder. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he began having feelings for you at some point. Maybe it was during your first encounter when you’d shamelessly announced the goofy name you gave your cat or when you gingerly worked on his hands, your touch igniting at his fingertips.

When he realized what he felt, he shared it with his brothers. He confided most of it with Chris, realizing that you and Nick had developed some sort of friendship that might warrant Nick to accidentally slip up and mention it to you. Matt loved your work ethic most of all, admiring the drive and passion you held for your career. But he did wish you’d make more time for yourself. Every time he looked down at his fingernails he was reminded of the countless hours you put into your craft. He loved visiting you every two weeks for a fresh set, taking a special pride in the fact that your cat only every approached him out of the three of them.

He’d never admit it, but he was internally jumping for joy when you’d accepted to hang out with them. Nick wanted to plan out the day, but Matt had beat him to it, scheduling and planning everything from the movie to mini golf course to the pizza shop. He wanted it to be perfect for you, especially after your relentless hard work day to day. Matt became lost in thoughts of you and before long he fell asleep too, his head resting aon top of yours.

“Dude, Matt, I’m about to fucking kill this guy watch,” Chris whispered as if the guy on the screen could hear him. He shot the character on the screen and jumped up excitedly because he’d just taken the winning shot. “MATT! MATT! DUDE DID YOU SEE THAT?!?” Chris exclaimed and looked over at Matt, his face dropping when he realized everyone had fallen asleep.

“Boo. Y’all are no fun,” he grumbled, readying up for another game.

—

When you woke up the next morning you immediately groaned at the pain in your neck. Before you could even acknowledge where you were, you searched around frantically for your phone to check the time. When you finally found it, the time read 12:30pm. ‘FUCK,’ you thought, the anxiety completely engulfing your body. Your first appointment today was at 11am, you scrolled through your notifications and saw 7 missed calls from your client.

You looked around, fully expecting to be at home, but when you took in your surroundings you realized you were still at the Triplet’s house. You must’ve fallen asleep while watching the boys play that stupid Fortnite game. To your left was Nick, still out cold and to your right was Matt, his head now resting on the back of the couch. You didn’t want to have to wake him up, but you didn’t have your car and without his help you’d never make it home on time for your next appointment.

“Matt! Matt!” You whisper shouted, shaking his shoulders so he’d wake up. You repeated this process a few times, each time becoming more and more aggressive. He woke up in a panic, shooting up immediately and grabbing a hold of your arms in the process. His eyes were wide open, searching your face to see what was wrong. By this point your eyes were brimmed with tears and you were completely overwhelmed.

“What? What’s wrong, baby?” The nickname slipped from his mouth effortlessly and if you weren’t so panicked you might’ve paid more attention to it. “It’s 12:30,” you replied, shoving your phone in his face so he could see the time. His face softened at this, realizing that you weren’t in any immediate danger, he sighed in relief as he responded, “you scared the shit out of me.”

“I need you to take me home. Right now,” your face was serious, tears still threatening to fall. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” His mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario, wondering if he’d bothered you by sleeping so close to you or by resting his head on yours, or even by letting himself slip up and call you baby. “I missed an appointment…” you whispered, letting the tears finally fall.

Although he hated seeing you cry, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when he realized you weren’t upset with him. “Oh thank God,” he whispered, clutching his chest dramatically and throwing his head back against the couch again. “Why are you thanking God right now? I’ve never missed an appointment before!” You wiped your tears away.

Before he could stop himself he was admitting it all to you, “I thought you heard me call you baby just now.” Your eyes widened at this revelation, suddenly your missed appointment and the 7 missed calls didn’t matter so much, “I didn’t hear you call me baby… you called me baby?”

His face immediately burned with embarrassment as he realized what he had just done. There was no backing down now, if he didn’t admit his feelings to you now he knew he’d never gain the courage to do it later. “Yes?” His voice had an underlying inquisitive tone, he was nervous and wanted to test the waters before diving in head first.

Matt watched as your face changed completely, going from distress to pure happiness. This was enough motivation for him to finally confess his feelings for you. “Can I be really honest and vulnerable with you right now?” He asked, looking down at his nails, remembering all the reasons he has to love you.

“Yes?” You matched his tone from earlier, trying to ease his nerves. It worked, he laughed and sighed before continuing, “I think I’m in love with you.” From the direction the conversation was heading, you were expecting a confession, but nothing could’ve prepared you for Matt confessing his love for you.

“Before you say anything, just hear me out,” he breathed in deeply, once again working up the courage to speak. “I don’t know when it happened, but all I know is that I find myself wishing every two weeks that time could speed up and it could be 2:30.” Your heart was beating 1000 beats per minute and the anticipation was killing you. He had stopped looking at his nails and had now locked eyes with you.

“I love so many things about you y/n… I love the way you work hard everyday to create absolute works of art. I love that you invite people into your space so openly. I love that you take pride in your work. I love the way that your apartment is a personification of you. I love the way you poke your tongue out when you’re concentrating or even the fact that you painted your door yellow. I love that you’re so gentle, yet so precise in everything you do. I love listening to you talk and I love looking at your beautiful smile. I love that you allowed yourself to enjoy a day out with us, despite it going against your true nature. Shit, I love that you named your cat Fat Mama.” The last sentence earned a laugh from you, happy tears now rolling down your checks. You’d never been confessed to, especially not in such a sincere way.

There weren’t words that could express how you were feeling, instead you decided a kiss would suffice. The kiss was sweet, igniting a fire inside you. You felt Matt smile into the kiss, placing his hands on your face to pull you in closer.

“I think I love you too.” You admitted as you pulled away, resting your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes. You two were too lost in the moment to realize that Nick and Chris were awake and had seen and heard the whole thing.

“You two are disgusting,” Nick commented, getting up from the couch and walking to his room. “I agree, you guys are corny as fuck,” Chris chimed in, doing the same.

You both laughed, too mesmerized by each other to even care. You couldn’t believe you were about to let this boy enter your life and completely disrupt it.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: mmmm i said i wasn’t going to write anything again, but a lot of people liked my last story sooooo I decided I’d try again. This time I wrote someothing so unbelievably long, but I really love adding little details and referring back to them. I hope y’all enjoy, if not that’s fine too. K BYEEEEE

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

#matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt x reader #Matthew sturniolo x reader #Matthew sturniolo x y/n

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keyotos · 9 months

Text

loved you every single day

summary ⎯ what is love for the xianzhou guys? that's basically it. very sappy and tender and sentimental.

includes ⎯ dan heng, blade, jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ hi...

dan heng

⎯ dan heng had a vague understanding of what love felt like. before the astral express, he never really knew what love really felt like due to memory loss. but he learned, eventually.

⎯ he found love when himiko always offered to make another coffee cup for him (this time, with the blend he enjoys). he found love whenever march/stelle would check on him during the late hours of the night, knowing he'd be buried in books. he found love whenever welt offered to shoulder the burdens of keeping watch during trailblazing missions.

⎯ but he has never felt love like this before. not with you anyway.

⎯ there was a sense of loyalty he had for you. of course, he was obviously also loyal to the crew, but it was different with you.

⎯ you made him want to follow you towards the end of the universe. you made him want to run with you into the light or whatever awaits the both of you later on. he was willing to do all of it.

⎯ why? a lame question to ask, he thinks. there are hundreds of reasons why, and he could list them easily. was your smile and the way it instantly warmed an entire room enough reason? or should he add onto the fact that you were practically made of stardust and cosmic radiance? that you have some kind of miraculous or even transcendental ability to string words so brilliantly that it manages to calm the harshest of voices down?

⎯ and love was scary for dan heng, at first. there were too many hindrances and difficulties in his life. for one, he could not let you get caught up in his past. he wouldn't: he would make sure of it. for two, he wasn't very used to love.

⎯ yeah, there was the express crew. but there was also you. dan heng thought that he would spend the rest of his life alone. he still has not settled into his room on the express because he reasoned that he'd stay until the archives until he was ready to leave. but you challenged all of that.

⎯ how is it that one person could make him want to stay by their side forever? how is it that you have such an enormous effect on him, yet you aren't even aware of it? every wall or barrier he's put up, you've always managed to erode it down. you allowed him to be vulnerable and you allowed him to be carefree. you allowed him to relax. to breathe.

⎯ loving you, was to breathe, for dan heng. you were the gasp of air that he needed while he was drowning beneath the waters. finally being able to decompress and unwind; he felt lighter around you. less stressed, less worried. less stoic. less somber.

⎯ he has never even thought of love like that before he had met you. but you changed him. and he is eternally grateful for that. eternally grateful for you. you are his home, his safe space, his sanctuary of security.

⎯ so he repays you often. he knows what kind of tea you drink and how to make it by heart. he makes a cup for you every morning. you have your own shelf in his archive. hell, you have your own damn space in there as well. there's an indent of you in every corner of every room.

⎯ or maybe, dan heng is so accustomed to you that he sees you in everything.

⎯ he lets you read from his shoulder. he has a shelf filled with all your favorite books from various worlds in his archives. he lets you sleep on his body rather than the flacid mattress on the ground, because he wants to keep you as comfortable as you've kept him. his fingers trace your body every night you stay with him, to ensure that you are safe and you are here, and he is home.

"are you sure you're comfortable like this?" you ask, situated on top of dan heng's body. you're partly afraid that you'll crush him with your entire body weight on him, and that his back would hurt after tonight, "wouldn't it just be smarter to crash in my room instead?"

his chest rises and falls underneath you, getting slower and slower as time goes by, "if you'd like. we can go."

you bite the inside of your lip in thought. it would be safer to do so, for both your and dan heng's safety. but, to be honest, you were very comfortable and tired. "is your back gonna be okay after this?"

"it'll be fine," he brushes off, "besides, you've been sleeping on me for the past few nights now. i can handle one more night."

"huh???"

blade (contains lore spoilers)

⎯ love was something blade has always lived without. as a child, with war and battles as a constant on his homeworld, there wasn't any room for affection or anything similar.

⎯ but then you came along, practically shaking his entire world. there you were, dragging him off to drink god awful mung bean soda. to force him to go outside on days where he was over-occupied with work. to let him enjoy something for once in a while. to let him rub his thumb over yours in the quiet hours of the night, forgetting about work and all other duties.

⎯ he had never thought that loving could be so easy until he met you. it seemed as though time would stop in his tracks whenever he saw you. blade thought it was a myth coming from romance novels (one he had heard from you, ironically enough), but it proved to be, in fact, real.

⎯ and everything was easy. up until everything wasn't. it was one thing, then the other. baiheng passed, jingliu was extremely distraught. it was wearying to see everything go so downhill, so fast. nobody was ever the same after that period.

⎯ yet even after all that, you still had the same look in your eye. you looked at blade the same way you looked at him all those years ago. so much has changed between the both of you, and you know that the both of you would never be able to return to the past.

⎯ though, even after all of that, some things remained the same. for example, the way you never failed to take his breath away. seeing you for the first time in years had him going through a plethora of feelings: distraught, appalled, and slightly less dejected.

⎯ but most importantly, there were still parts of the other's heart still beating for each other. even if you couldn't love him anymore, you still cared about him. you cared about him the same way you did all those years ago.

⎯ you went out of your way to find him. you went out of your way to offer him solace, even if it was for one last time. why? he didn't want to know, he didn't want to ask. he has a mission: he has to pursue it, always. nevertheless, he still found himself underneath the sun's rays, as it managed to follow him wherever, saying, "i'm here. even if you don't see me sometimes, i am still here."

⎯ and if you still cared... well, there was still hope, right?

he's leaning over a rail, looking over the xianzhou skies and the starskiffs racing by. he hasn't been back in ages. it feels... strange; it feels as if he's experiencing his first day all over again.

blade is so fascinated by the sight that he fails to hear your footsteps come closer, now reaching his side. he only hears you after you clear your throat. he's startled, for obvious reasons: but, when he sees you hold up a mung bean soda in surrender, he's surprised at how fast the panic dies down.

"aren't you going to arrest me?" he took a step back from you. you didn't move, but instead held out the drink.

"i could," you dragged out, checking your watch, "but... i'm not on duty," the corners of your lips turn up ever so slightly, like you were happy at the fact that you were having a drink with a criminal. you pull open the tab and take a sip, then offer it towards him.

he blankly stares at your hand. remembers the feeling of it in his. now, his mind is skewed. maybe even grotesque if he wanted to sound dreadful about it. but there are few happy memories he can recall, as well as the feelings during them, and it seems like you are recreating one of them currently. and oddly enough, there are no feelings of bitterness that follow him this time.

he takes and drinks the mung bean soda, and to his surprise, it’s not as bad as it was many years ago. maybe it was because your lips were on it, or maybe it’s because the once atrocious drink did get better. and when he looks up and is greeted by your curious face, he hopes that love is like that as well.

jing yuan

⎯ years ago, if you had asked jing yuan what love was, he'd say something benign: love is indescribable. a simple answer for a simple man in love. but oh, has time took its toll.

⎯ it isn't to say that love isn't indescribable. on some days, he finds it worrying that he may love you too much⎯that his willingness to give you the world was a bit concerning at times. others point it out, but jing yuan chooses to be blindsided. but he is always aware.

⎯ aware. jing yuan is nothing short of perceptive. he has been around for centuries. he has been there for wars, for battles, for decrees. and it sticks with him: forever. he does not simply forget, yet he is forced to stay in one place forever. immorality may be a blessing for others, but a curse for xianzhou natives.

⎯ he does not give himself a moment to fully relax. even if it seems that way a lot (the dozing general needs his power naps), he is always back to his duties.

⎯ however, it's different with you. with you, he has no burdens to shoulder. he has no secrets to keep from you. there is no wall of tension blocking between you. with you, everything is for grabs. his feelings, his emotions, his heart.

⎯ vulnerability. many look down at the vulnerable. and in jing yuan's line of work, the cost of vulnerability comes with a substantial price. his guard has to be up at all costs, because if not, there would be another catastrophe. his act as a lazy general is just a rouse, because there is so much that's weighing on him inside.

⎯ in a city that flies, jing yuan feels rooted by the weight of the luofu.

⎯ so imagine the amount of unconcern he feels when he's around you. the feeling of rocks suffocating him has subsided, and you are here to remove them. and one by one, he begins to feel lighter and lighter as you hull them off.

⎯ and you don't get tired. you're still here. you keep picking off the rocks, even the smallest ones. you relentlessly continue until everything is gone, and the only things left are just you and him.

⎯ by now, he understands what love is. it's when he knows how your fingers have ran through every crevice of his brain, every knot in his stomach, every knot in his soul. it's understanding. it's being able to shoulder the weight of the world with another. it's someone staying to help you get the rocks off of your body.

⎯ love is being met with soft touches instead of daggers. love is being met with mhms and reallys while retelling a story from this morning. love is being able to speak about the past, the truth of it all, and allowing the light to peek through instead of the darkness. that is what love is.

"and then, get this, i found him in the midst of a fight with blade," jing yuan throws his head on your shoulder exasperatedly, disregarding the fact that you were halfway through your novel.

"well, he was doing his job," you counter, looking back towards your lover.

"i know," he slides a hand across his face, "it's just tiring. and i don't want him to get hurt." like others, is the unspoken phrase here. it's on the tip of his tongue, you know it.

you place a bookmark in your book before shutting it. you finally turn your full attention towards jing yuan, "he's strong. you trained him."

"but," he sighs, "what if it's not enough?"

you decide the mood is a little too melancholic, so you decide to lighten the mood a little bit, "then i'll take over as general of the luofu," you grinned. jing yuan smiled as well: your smile was infectious, how could he not?

you ran a hand through his hair, "you are good enough. i hope you know that. you won't fail yanqing. he's tough and stubborn... he sadly gets that from you."

jing yuan chuckles, a real chuckle, and pulls you closer to him as you grab your book once again. he presses a chaste kiss to your temple as he reads along to the same words on a page as you.

yes, things will be okay, he thinks.

hi y'all! i have been sooo busy w sm stuff lately, like i've been preparing for college and i've been going to the gym and i've been doing sm. updates have been scarce except like the 3 alhaitham posts (i couldn't resist). but hopefully during these last few weeks of summer i can get my grind back on!!!

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr blade #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #im back from the dead #ive had sm stuff to do like i had the college talk td and man o man o man #tbh some of my metaphors DID NOT make sense. i wrote this at 3 am like all my other fics #missing when i used to pump out hcs before 12 am 🙁🙁🙁#honestly blade's is a little short but i'm still trying to figure out his character so i promise u blade lovers i will feed u soon hehe

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