#todays been genuinely awful i’m so fucking over it
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#i feel like shit omg i was so sick the other day got a two day period of being fine n now im so awful#i’ve been out of bed for like 3-4hrs mx today n not all at once#most of it i’ve been asleep too idek what’s wrong like the other day it was throwing up general nausea n aches n whatnot#but today im in pain all over i can’t regulate my temperature for shit like im freezing in my room in bed under all my blankets but the#second i go anywhere else im dying of heat! like instant sweating dizziness n so hot i get pins n needles in my cheeks n extremities n my#breath gets short n it’s so fuckin hot i gotta retreat to my room after twenty min cause it’s fuckin painful but then im back up here n im#so cold n if im not lying down i get stupid dizzy n my balance is all off even just sitting down but standing is absolute ass like im like#too tall today? i feel too tall like standing up n my eye distance to the ground makes me feel lightheaded n i start pitching forwards like#the way you might when looking over a high balcony- the sort of vertigo that comes from height i’m getting from just feckin standing up in#my own goddamn body?? fuckin madness innit?? is this a blood pressure thing?? fucks going on i genuinely don’t know#n it all hurts n i’m in bed rn after having a shower n i felt better in the shower but i’m back out#told my dad sister n brother goodnight picked up my dog n went upstairs n like i had to put my baby down once i got to the room i couldn’t#make it with him to the bed he’s only 6lbs but my arms felt like they’d fall off n the tiny amount of body heat from him on my chest made me#get short of breath n feel way too overheated i’ve never had that happen before i’ve never had to put him on the floor n he walk over n hop#up himself n i had to take a seat i had to sit on the floor for a minute to collect myself#i closer the door n turned off the lights on my knees i was crawling about n had to drag myself up into bed cause i just was too tired to#get up n do it all normally genuinely wtf is happening
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Model Baby, M. Sturniolo
Summary: In which a modeling campaign Matt's in turns into something far more
Pairing: Model!Matt x feminine photographer!reader
Warnings: Smut, sub!Matt, softdom!reader, non established relationship, p in v, cowgirl, sextape, grinding, making out, hand job, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), slight degradation/teasing, Matt lowkey has a praise kink (i think that's all but lmk if i missed anything!)
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: I think I speak for all of us when I say Matt's Prada photoshoot fucked with our heads!! Anyway, enjoy some sub!Matt 😋
You sighed as you stepped off the elevator, lugging your bags of camera equipment behind you. Despite having the machine at your convenience, you really hated how the shoot was assigned to take place in the penthouse suite of this Hawaiian resort in the middle of July. Gorgeous? Yes. Good for not sweating? No. You pulled your bags along to the door, quickly swiping the key the resort had given you and entering the room. It was still beyond crazy to you that you were getting to shoot a Calvin Klein ad for such a famed model, and your heart raced with anticipation at the thought of how big of an opportunity this was.
Inside the enormous suite, lighting and set employees bustled around, angling everything just so around the set. The enormous, California king sized bed that was backed up to a window that looked out into the deep blue of the Pacific ocean would serve as the main backdrop for the shoot, but that wasn’t even the most gorgeous part of the room, at least in your opinion. Your model for today sat in a folding chair in the corner of the room, sipping on a hot coffee while he got his makeup done.
“Hi! Are you Matt?” You asked him, setting your camera bags down next to his chair.
The boy looked up at you as an artist waved a brush of powder across his nose. His blue eyes were wide as he smiled up at you, a soft blush dotting his cheeks. “That’s me.”
“I’m gonna be your photographer today.” You introduced yourself by name, sticking out your hand with a warm smile.
Matt stared at you with wide eyes as you shook hands, and you couldn’t help the way your eyes traveled from his veiny hand up towards his sleeve of tattoos. The silver rings that decorated his knuckles were cold against your warm skin, making you tell yourself that the blush you felt creeping through your body was due to the tropical heat. You went on to thoroughly explain what all today’s shoot would entail, noticing the way Matt kept his eyes trained on you the entire time, looking at you in some way that could only be described as awe.
As you finished your spiel, Matt stood up and stretched, chucking his empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can. The brunette’s hoodie rode up with his movement, the tanned skin of his soft tummy and V-line catching your eye. You shook your head reminding yourself that this shoot was for work and not for you to thirst over the model. You could do that once the ad campaign came out.
“I’m gonna get changed,” Matt said, nodding towards the bathroom. “Thanks for your time. I really appreciate it.”
Once again, you noticed the pink hue that had made its home on Matt’s cheeks as he scurried off to the bathroom. Maybe you were misreading the situation, but part of you wondered if he felt the same way about you. He was different from most of the clients you had been assigned in the past; where they saw you as “just a worker”, Matt had talked to you like he genuinely wanted to get to know you and collaborate on the project. You swiftly set up all of your camera equipment, drumming your fingers on the plastic as you waited for your model.
The bathroom door swung open, and you whipped your head around to see Matt being shuffled out by his assistant. The woman appeared rather frazzled, rattling notes about poses and such to the soft boy, who listened intently, paying close attention to how she was speaking to him, just the way he had with you. That wasn’t what caught your eye, though. Your eyes trailed downward from Matt’s face to the tight, gray, Calvin Klein boxers that hugged his hips. It was going to be a simple shoot, Matt’s body, the boxers, and the silver horse necklace he wore speaking for themselves, but you felt your lower stomach clench at the thought of that beautiful boy looking up at you with those blue doe eyes.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” Matt smiled, arm brushing yours as he climbed onto the bed.
If anyone else in the room noticed the energy between you two, they didn’t mention it. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself so that you could focus on getting the perfect shots and not on the way Matt’s feathery, brown curls fanned around his face.
“Okay, if you could just turn a little to the left…right there..perfect! Great job!” As you fell into the usual groove of your work, everything else melted away, allowing you to focus on your camera and the boy in front of you.
Matt was the best subject you could have ever asked for, easily following your directions with an eagerness about him. “Like this?” he joked cutely, jutting out his bottom lip and placing his chin in his hands as he propped himself up on the bed. “It’s what you asked me to do.” he smiled, staring up at your camera.
“Just like that,” You joked, taking on a playful air. “Good boy.” You laughed.
Matt’s cheeks heated up to a color that was beyond red, making him awkwardly shift and shuffle the sheets on the bed. You continued to snap photos, thinking the flustered look that had occupied his face was a welcome change to the ‘tough guy’ theme for the shoot.
“You are doing so well. Beautiful!” You praised as you took an especially gorgeous photo of him on his knees, arms crossed over his chest.
The shoot continued like this for some time, with you flirtatiously throwing little praises and phrases of affection Matt’s way and him blushing and offering soft smiles until the director of the shoot finally stood up, quickly stating that everything had been fulfilled. Everyone packed up and hurried out of the suite just as quickly as they had entered. You had barely packed up your ring light before realizing that everyone else had vacated the room, leaving just you and Matt, who was still in the gray boxers, scrolling through his phone.
“So...have you been modeling for a long time?” You asked the brunette, eager to make conversation that would distract you from his body and how it made the heat pool between your thighs.
“Um, not really,” Matt blushed and set aside his device, ears going red as he spoke. “About a year, maybe? I’m more into YouTube.”
“I remember reading about that when I got this job. So, I take it you like cameras, Matt?” You asked flirtatiously, a smirk tugging at your lips.
“Oh, um,” the brunette looked up at you from his position on the bed, dark lashes sweeping across his face. “For the right people, yeah.”
“I noticed you like being called a good boy, too.” You teased gently, your nipples beginning to harden as you watched Matt grow red with your realization, awkwardly shifting as a gentle moan escaped his plump, heart-shaped lips.
“Y-yeah…” he whispered, beginning to smile himself. “I do. How did you know?”
“Oh Matt,” You cooed, pressing record on your camera and then making your way around the bed, sitting next to him and caressing his stubble-covered cheek. “You models are all the same. Just wanna be told how pretty you look following directions.”
The boy let out another moan, this one louder than before, pressing his cheek into your hand as he began to grind against the sheets softly, trying to conceal his growing erection. Your words were getting to him faster than he cared to admit, making him want to do whatever it would take for you to continue praising him and speaking to him in that teasing, yet loving voice. “Mhm…” he whined softly.
“What if I told you that camera was recording right now?” You asked him, kissing his soft lips. “Would you still let me call you a pretty boy?”
Matt whimpered, grinding his Calvin Klein covered dick faster against the bed. “Please. Do that again. I…” he panted into the kiss, his hormones already taking over.
You used his moan for leverage, slipping your tongue into his mouth. Matt tasted like coffee and a hint of cinnamon and vanilla, yet you couldn’t get enough. You began to get sloppy, your tongue fighting his for dominance as you made out, tangling your fingers into the soft, feathery curls at the nape of his neck. You wanted to steal every last bit of that ‘tough guy’ façade and watch it crumble beneath your touch as you praised him.
“You gonna be a good boy and use your mouth for what it's made for?” You asked him, pulling apart from the kiss, leaving a trail of salvia between you two as you wiped his bottom lip with your thumb.
Matt nodded eagerly, already kneeling like this had been your routine for years now, despite only knowing each other for two hours. “Let me make you feel good.” he pouted, tugging at the waistband of your leggings.
You gently pushed his hand away, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Knees.”
Matt did as told, propping himself on his knees, chin in his hands, as he watched you slide your leggings, shirt and bra, and thong off. Your thighs were already slick with your juices, your lower stomach tightening with arousal as you watched Matt giggle cutely, his big, blue eyes going wide at the sight of you already dripping. You ran your hand through his silky hair, enjoying the way he was practically feigning for your touch.
The immense amount of pillows on the bed served you well, allowing you to prop yourself up so that you were the perfect height for Matt to eat you out on his knees. “Go on,” You told the boy, kissing his forehead softly. “Show the camera how good you eat pussy, baby.”
Matt didn’t need to be told twice. Still on his knees, the brunette lowered his head, licking the soft, plush skin of your thighs before moving to your folds. As you craned your neck, the sight of his gentle tongue lapping up your arousal made you want to praise him, promising him he was doing an excellent job. As he ran his tongue from your dripping hole up to your clit, flicking the sensitive little bud, you hissed, feeling the need to climax begin to build in your body.
“Feels so good, Matt,” You panted, rutting your hips forward to meet his mouth as the brunette pushed your thighs closer towards his head. “You’re doing so well.”
Spurred on by the praise, Matt began flick your clit in dizzying circles with his tongue as you whimpered and whined, back arching off the sheets. It was obscene; the sight of him on his knees, lapping you up like you were the last meal on earth, while you moaned and writhed, neither of you caring that a camera was actively filming all of this. Broken praises fell from your lips as Matt moaned into your pussy, mumbling things about how good you tasted while his freckled nose applied pressure to your clit.
“Doing so well, baby,” You cried, gripping the sheets as your climax began to overtake you. “‘M gonna cum.”
Without another word, you let go, your orgasm leaving you shaking as you came on Matt’s face. Once you had come down from the high, you looked to see your boy lift his head, still on his knees. Your arousal dripped from his mouth and chin, and even his eyelashes, which only complimented his angelic blue eyes, messy hair, and the slight blush that had overtaken him as he looked at you shyly.
“I hope that was okay…” Matt whispered, burning red.
You lifted his chin in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “That was better than okay, Matt. That was perfect,” Matt smiled softly, cuddling into your touch as you instructed him to lay down on his back, pressing soft kisses to his face, neck, and chest as he did so. You had known since the moment you had seen the boy in real life that you wanted to ride him. “May I?” You asked, hooking your thumb into the elastic waistband of his gray underwear.
He nodded eagerly, feathery, brown curls fanning out across the pillow with the motion. You slid his boxers off, smiling at the way his dick was already throbbing with want for you. You began to fist him, watching his pretty face contort with pleasure as tiny little whimpers escaped his lips. Teasing Matt was half the fun, watching the way he would beg for it and turn red whenever you poked fun at him.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” You asked with a smirk when he whimpered, thrusting his cock upwards towards your hand. “Need to be used?”
Matt nodded, his pouty bottom lip jutting out as he looked up at you from the bed. “Need you.” he hissed when you hit a particularly sensitive spot.
You took that as your cue, moving your lips down his arm and kissing every tattoo that decorated his skin. Not wanting to leave him without contact for too long, you quickly bent down and grabbed your wallet from your tote bag lying beside the bed, pulling a condom out. Matt flushed again at the unmistakable sound of foil ripping, his cheeks burning and his cock throbbing as you rolled the rubber onto him.
“You gonna let me ride you, baby boy?” You asked him, gripping his chin slightly as you straddled his waist. “I think you should show the camera how much you love being used.”
“Please,” Matt was practically begging by this point, all plump lips and angel eyes as he gripped your hips firmly with his ringed hands. “Wanna be yours.”
You didn’t need to hear anything else. You quickly lined yourself up with him, gently sliding onto his hard cock. Your moans at the feeling of suddenly being so full went straight to Matt’s dick, causing him to buck his hips upward towards your own, whining at the friction.
“God, you’re so wet…” the brunette whimpered. “Did I do this?”
“You like admiring your work?” You teased, speeding up the rhythm in which you rode him.
Matt let out a moan at the combination of your praises and teasing, gripping your hips ever harder as you rode him. Pretty, girlish moans escaped his mouth as you took control from his body. All he could focus on was how good you riding him made him feel. The lack of control over his own body had him grabbing your hips in a way that would leave marks in the morning, head thrown back against the pillows as he whined and whimpered.
“I…I need to…” Matt gasped, tears starting to roll down his cheeks at all the pleasurable sensations. “I need to–” he wailed, not caring how loud he was being at this point.
“You need to do what?” You asked, staring down at him as you purposely rode the boy harder. “Use your words, Matty.” You teased.
“Need to cum.” he sobbed, overstimulation building as his stomach ached with the need to cum.
“God, you’re so hot when you’re like this,” You bent down and pressed a heated kiss to Matt’s lips. “All spread out for me, unable to control yourself, and whining and crying like a slut. Go ahead, baby. Cum like the little boy whore you are.”
Matt didn’t need to be told twice. He immediately let himself go, cum filling the condom as he cried out. “Feels so good.” he panted as he came down from the climax, eyes wide and glazed over.
The boy fell back against the pillows as you slid off of him, tying up the condom and throwing it away. He looked beyond fucked out, but it was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen. You quickly got up and turned the camera off, before retrieving a warm, wet washcloth from the bathroom and using it to wipe Matt off while showering him with both praise and kisses across his tummy and chest.
“You are so perfect.” You told him, once you had been rid of the cloth and climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers of your naked bodies.
“I am?” Matt asked meekly, avoiding contact as he blushed, a smile growing across his face.
“The best.” You assured him, enjoying the tulip pink color that painted his skin once again.
“I probably shouldn’t ask you this…” Matt paused to collect himself for a moment, before rolling over and facing you. “Would you um, wanna go out with me sometime?”
You couldn’t help the loud giggle that escaped your mouth as you leaned across the bed and kissed his cheek. “I just came all over your face and you’re embarrassed to ask me out?”
Matt nodded shyly, but giggled himself, snaking his hand across the sheets to hold your own. “I didn’t know if you just wanted a hookup or something.”
“You really think I’m really gonna let a pretty boy like you pass me by?” You raised a brow, planting a firm kiss on his pink lips.
Laid here in this gorgeous bed, naked and only covered by sheets as he blushed, you realized that you truly had made the right decision to pursue this model baby.
tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @aaronshotchgirl @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @hiimoliviaimnewhere @loisnotacupcake-blog @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
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#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagines#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#christopher owen sturniolo#christopher sturniolo fulff#christopher sturniolo fluff#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo smut
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Atsv characters taking care of s/o in pain
Fun fact I deal with physical pain a lot bcuz my health is shit. I have been in so much pain I couldn’t even sleep for the last 2 days. Was especially bad today so here’s smth kinda self indulgent.
(Hc portion)
Gwen is insistent on having miguel or jessica check you out to see if they could possibly ease your pain. Miguel is from the future technically, there has to be something. She hates the idea of you being in so much pain you can’t even lie down comfortably, you can’t sit still, you can’t sleep, or even worse if you start crying? She feels awful. She has heating packs to help you ease your pain if it helps, and she keeps you on a strict schedule with taking medication so that your pain is as limited as possible. She does everything she can for you, especially given the lack of knowledge she has on this typa thing.
(Small fic portion)
“I hate seeing you like this” she sighs, kissing you on the forehead, pressing the big heating pack to your stomach. There is instant relief, even if that relief is short lived and your once again reminded of your pain, she still feels you relax. Even if only slightly. “I’m sorry I can’t do more for you.” she frowns, feeling guilt.
“Nonsense” you say, giving her a weak smile, putting a hand on her cheek. She puts her hand on yours, holding it in place on her cheek. “You being here is enough for me. You did everything you could. This is just… how it is, yknow?”
She sighs, taking your hand off her cheek so she can kiss your knuckles. “But it shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I wish I could just take this pain away from you.” she presses her forehead against yours, and for a moment, even if it was brief, you feel peace.
(Hc portion)
Miles is so unsure how he can help you but damn if he isn’t determined as fuck to help ease your pain even if only slightly. He is extremely sympathetic towards you. He genuinely cannot imagine how it must be to constantly go through pain to the point you can’t even get proper rest. He will try to get you to relax your muscles, which can be difficult granted the pain you’re in, but he knows if he’s able to succeed with that you can at least get some sleep. Back massages or even massaging the places that hurt, he’s all on it. Always has medicine with him, might even ask his mom to watch over you for him while he’s gone doing Spiderman stuff, even if just to check on you.
(Short fic portion)
“You didn’t have to do this miles,” you say, chugging down your third dose of ibuprofen today. “Thank you though.” you say, before lying back down.
“Of course I had to do this for you babe!” he says with a roll of his eyes, annoyed you’d even suggest he didn’t have to help you out. “If I can’t be here for you in your time of need, what’s the point in being your boyfriend, your best friend for that matter.” he continues to speak as he lies down next to you. “Roll over.” he commands, which you aren’t quite used to him doing. He’s been acting rather motherly towards you lately, but you can’t exactly blame him with the state you’ve been in.
You follow his orders and do so, and he begins to message your back, and you audibly sigh without meaning to. He laughs as a result, making you laugh too. “Shut up.” you roll your eyes, and he can’t help but laugh even more. “Hey I’m glad you’re just finally relaxing.” he says before kissing the back of your neck.
Somehow you’re boyfriend always knows how to make your agonizing pain a bit more bearable.
(Hc portion)
My man hobie somehow manages to get his hands on morphine. You will not be dealing with this pain on his watch, he will find a way. High key hates the fact you’re going through this and does everything he can to ease it or prevent it. Might talk to you about random shit, about his day or about other people or crazy shit that happened, anything as a means to distract you. Though this can prove to be difficult, hobie has a relaxing voice and he’s able to soothe you no matter how bad your pain is. Might sing ya to sleep with his lovely voice.
(Small fic portion)
Your quiet as you listen to hobie hum. While his music tastes consisted of punk (obviously) he was a bit of a metal head as well, and it’s not that you didn’t like that genre of music but it was far from relaxing. So you had calmly asked hobie if he could please sing something that wasn’t so intense.
Soft shit was not his thing but if it eased your pain, who is he to complain?
He had his arms around you, your head on his chest and you felt it rumble as he quietly sang to you.
“Cariño, eres un amor”
“Something about you babe.”
“Something about you babe”
he finally finishes, and you smile for the first time today.
“Thank you, hobie.” you whisper, and he kisses the crown of your head. “Anytime hun”
(Hc portion)
Pavitr feels terrible omg bless this boy he does everything he can. Buys you a lot of fattening foods as tribute. He knows he shouldn’t make it a habit especially if you’re pain is like constant and happens a lot but he cannot help himself. His baby should not be in pain! Sometimes kisses the spots your in pain and likes to rub the spots in an attempt to soothe you and your pain. Buys a lot of medicine and pain relief creams. May try to distract you with watching movies and stuff, but also will straight up ask you if there’s any other way he can help you. Definitely makes you peppermint tea to help ease your pain.
(Small fic portion)
You drink the last of your tea, placing the empty cup on your end table and lay all the way back next to your boyfriend. He offers to put the cup in your sink and clean it, but you shake your head. “It’s fine I can do it tomorrow.” you say, before resting your cheek on his shoulder, “besides I want you here with me.” you admit, and he smiles at your little confession before wrapping is arms around you in an embrace. “Aww babe!” he says, before smooching you on the cheek with an annoyingly loud, “mwah!”
you laugh as he attempts to kiss you more all over your face, putting your hand on his face and pushing him in an attempt to get him to stop smothering you. “Baby cut it out!” you laugh, “why? I just wanna love youuuu!” he whines, and you giggle, “because I’m trying to watch the movie!”
Your boyfriend sighs before conceding. “Fine.” he says, and you finally turn back to watch the movie.
“Just kidding!” he says quickly, attacking your neck with little kisses this time, making you laugh even harder than before. “Oh babe Cmon!”
He’s just glad he succeeded in distracting you from your pain, for a little while.
#pavitr prabhakar x reader#pavitr x you#pavitr x y/n#pavitr x reader#atsv x reader#atsv x you#atsv x y/n#spiderverse x reader#hobie x y/n#hobie x you#hobie x reader#hobie brown x reader#gwen stacy x reader#spiderwoman x reader#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x reader#spidergwen x reader#gwen stacy x you#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x reader
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Slutmas Day 6
Stressed & Insecure (Matt)
Request: None
Warnings: Mommy kink, talk of poor mental heath, angsty at first, Matt being insecure, talk of body dysmorphia, friends to lovers, cockwarming, oral, whiny Matt
“You’re such a good boy for letting mommy take care of you like this”
Matt’s pov
Everything sucks right now, I’m so busy with work, it’s taking up all of my time, and everything going on right now backs up to that. I was purely stressed from work originally, which I know might seem easy, but don’t be fooled because it’s not. We’ve had so many meetings for sponsored content, videos, guest appearances, and merch designing, on top of filming for our YouTube and the Podcast. I’m genuinely just drained, my anxiety is high, I can’t sleep, and I’m overall in a bad mood.
I know what you’re thinking, ‘why not just jack off?’ well that’s because I can’t. I guess with being stressed and overwhelmed by everything, my cock just won’t get hard. It probably doesn’t help that my body is constantly getting hated on because of my weight, it makes me really insecure and uncomfortable with myself and my body. I was sitting at my desk doing some more online work and it was pissing me off, I’m so frustrated! I’m just doing so much overthinking and it’s making me stressed, overwhelmed, and insecure.
Just as I threw my notebook across the room there was a small knock and Chris popped his head in. “Matt, are you alright? Do you need anything?” Chris asked, knowing I wasn’t in the best mental state. “I’m fine, I just want to be alone” I sighed back, “Are you still coming to Larray’s house with us tonight?” I completely forgot about that. Chris looked a bit disappointed by my answer but he understood, “Nah I’m just gonna stay here, ‘m stressed and overwhelmed right now so I won’t be any fun” I said before Chris closed the door.
That was my insecurities talking, I always found myself rather boring and unenthusiastic when I’m in these moods. It had been about an hour of trying to get hard and then sitting in my chair with my head in my hands. My door slowly creeped open and I immediately assumed it was Chris or Nick. “Get the fuck out of my room!” I yelled, turning around to be met with my best friends confused face. “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” Y/n said quite nervously. I slammed my fist down on my desk before completely losing it, hot tears rolling down my face.
1 hour earlier
Y/n’s pov
I was at a nail appointment when I got a text message, I was already done with my fingers and in the chair for my toes.
iMessage start at 5:02pm
Chrisizzle🍊
bro are you busy
Y/n/n🪼
i’m getting my toes done rn
why
Chrisizzle🍊
at 5:30 me and nick are going to larray’s for the night
so i wanted to ask you a favor
yk how matt’s been kinda moody lately?
well today he’s really stressed and sad so he’s in a bad mood and i don’t want him to be alone tonight so can you head over afterwards and chill with him?
Y/n/n🪼
you literally just set up a playdate for your child lmao
but yeah i’ll go over there, i’ve missed my matty poo
Chrisizzle🍊
wow but you don’t miss me
that one hurt Y/n/n 🥲
anyways lmk when you get to our house bc we leave in 15
Y/n/n🪼
awe of course i miss you too sizzle 🤍
i’m abt to pay then I’ll head over
Chrisizzle🍊
don’t call me sizzle
*Y/n/n🪼 disliked this message*
iMessage ends at 5:37pm
The message had been from one of my best friends, Chris, he asked if I would go hang with his triplet bother, Matt, for tonight. I know he’s been getting a lot of hate about his attitude/weight and has been down the past 2 or 3 weeks, so I was hoping to cheer him up. I drove directly to the boys house after paying for my nails since I had a bunch of essentials over there and didn’t need anything from home.
I let myself in with my key and walked up to Matt’s room, which groans of frustration could be heard coming from. I lightly knocked before entering his room, as I was reclosing the door Matt yelled. “Get the fuck out of my room!” he said angrily, Matt’s never yelled at me before and he looked so pissed off that I got a little nervous.
I quickly replied with “I’m sorry, Chris said they were leaving and I should come keep you company because you’re having a bad day. I didn’t mean to make you upset” he looked at me for a second before I saw his face change to one of pain, hurt, and anxiety. Matt slammed his fist onto his desk yelling “Fuck!” before choking out into sobs.
His whole body was shaking and he slid out of his chair onto the floor, something he does when he’s really, really upset. I immediately ran over to sit next to him, wrapping my arms around his shaking figure. “I’m sorry! They hate me and I’m sorry!” he blurted out, causing me to be a bit confused as Matt’s hands desperately clung onto my shirt.
“It’s okay Matt, let it all out. You’re safe honey, I’ve got you-“ I was cut off by Matt pulling away from my shirt and basically screamed out in pain. “I don’t know what the fuck I did! Y/n, what’s wrong with me!? A-Am I not good enough!? I’m too skinny, I try to eat more but I can’t gain weight, I fucking hate my body! All I keep doing is disappointing everyone, Y/n I-I don-“ he started spiraling into a panic attack and I was worried, I have never seen Matt this bad before.
I didn’t know what else to do so I pushed past my own anxieties and kissed him. I cupped both of his cheeks and smashed our lips together, Matt was shocked at first so he didn’t kiss back but once he realized what was happening, he kissed back. I pulled away and Matt’s lips tried to chase mine before he opened his eye.
“W-What was that for?” he asked, a bit breathless from his previous breakdown. I suddenly felt shy so I looked down, “I uh- I didn’t know how else to get you to stop talking” I said, nervously playing with my fingers. “Oh, well thanks?” he said in a questioning tone, “Did you mean what you said about your body? Do you really think that?” I softly asked.
Matt groaned and stood up, offering me his hand, “I don’t want to talk about it but yes, I do hate my body” he mumbled as I too stood up. We made our way over to his bed and laid there in silence for a few minutes. I rolled over to my side facing Matt “Have you tried cumming?” I questioned quietly, “What!?” he rolled to face me as well, confused by what I just said.
“You know, because you’re stressed. I think I read somewhere that having an orgasm helps to relieve stress” Matt’s face was now painted red. He rolled over to be flat on his back again, “I’ve tried but I can’t get hard” he exhaled deeply. “Oh… I could try to help if you want” I offered, chewing on my nails, Matt turned to face me again, “Help.. me get… Help me get hard?” he questioned nervously.
We both had blush covering our faces at this point, “Yeah, then I can go chill in Nicks room and you can jerk off” I smiled shyly. “I mean that could work but I don’t want to be naked if you have clothes on” “You don’t have to be naked, you just have to trust me” “I-I trust you, how do we start though?” we conversed. I took a moment to think before asking, “Do you want to make out first, I know I’m like a lot bigger than you so I don’t know if it would be a problem for me to sit on your lap. Is it a problem?” I asked self-consciously as we both sat up.
Matt looked at me with an unamused look, “If that’s your way of making me feel worse about my body, it worked because your body is amazing” he huffed out, avoiding looking at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way” I said with a sad smile, upset that I hurt Matts feelings. “I know you didn’t but my body is like the main reason I cant get hard. I don’t like looking at myself naked, it shows off too much of what’s wrong with me” he replied.
It was silent again for a few minute until I broke the silence again, “I think it’s hot” “What?” Matt looked at me confused. “Your body, I think it’s hot” I smirked, “You think so?” “I know so, don’t you ever notice me staring at you when you’re shirtless or only wearing your boxers?” I teased some more. “I haven’t noticed actually, however, I have noticed you’re not on my lap yet” Matt pouted, pulling me onto his lap.
I was about to say something but was cut off by Matt grabbing the side of my face/neck and pulled me into a sweet kiss that quickly turned needy. I pulled back for a second to catch my breath, “Shit, I’m sorry! I’m just so touch starved and crave physical affection. You were gonna say something?” he panicked. “It’s okay, I know that physical touch is your love language, it’s one of the things I like about you. I forgot what I was going to say but I can tell you I’ll kiss you again” I giggled.
With that, Matt pulled my face to his again and this time the kiss was soft, yet also rough and needy. I had my hands wrapped around Matt’s neck, but his laid awkwardly at his sides, almost as if he’s scared to touch me. I pulled back from the kiss to grab his wrist and mumbled something against his lips. “You can touch me you know” I smirked as I placed Matt’s hands on my waist and went back to kissing him.
Matt’s hands quickly slid down and tightly gripped onto my hips, slowly starting to rock me back and forth. I started feeling his cock get hard and once I could tell he was fully hard, I stopped everything which caused Matt to let out a displeased whine. “Mmh why’d you stop?” he pouted, “Because you’re hard now, which means it’s my queue to leave” I said while trying to get up.
Matt held my hips down and begged, “Please don’t go! I-I don’t think I’ll be able to make myself cum, me being alone with my naked body sounds like a bad dream” he sighed. Piggybacking off what was just said he added, “W-Would you please m-make me feel good? I’ll let you have your way with me as long as it’s not super rough because I’m not in the mood for that” his eyes got a shade or two darker.
“Yeah, I can give you head if you want or you can sit back, relax and enjoy the full sub treatment” “Does the full sub treatment include sex? Because I’ve never been the submissive one before, I uh usually do doggy so my body isn’t seen as much. I’ve never even had a chick ride me before but you being on top sounds really hot, we don’t to have sex by the way, I was just saying if you wanted to I’m down” Matt confessed.
“If you stop talking about sex with other women, you have a deal. I might keep my shirt on though” I replied as I started slowly rocking my hips again. Matt’s grip on my waist tightened and he thrusted his hips up, his hard-on pressing against my clit so nicely that I let out a small, quiet moan. His eyes grew even darker after that, “No you will not. I wanna see your beautiful belly, I just know it’s gonna turn me on so much more” he instructed me.
I blushed and nodded, “Okay then handsome, just lay back and let me do all the work, tonight is all about you” I said, watching him nod before my lips were on his. I slid my tongue across his bottom lip, silently asking for access to his mouth which was quickly granted. He had a bit of trouble giving up control over the kiss at first but once I started trailing my kisses down his throat, he finally gave up on trying to win.
Matt’s pov
After Y/n had dominated the kiss, we made out for a bit before she started kissing down my neck. Once she reached the collar of my shit, she stopped and stood up to unbutton her pants. “If you really want me to make you feel good, take your pants off for me” she said seductively as she pulled off her own baggy jeans. I followed her directions and pulled my sweats off before grabbing her hand and leading her to sit on my lap again.
Y/n sat on my lap again before taking off her shirt, leaving her in a black lacy bra with matching panties. “Fuck… you look so goddamn beautiful” I said while looking into her eyes, my hands running up her thighs. “Mmm, thank you handsome. Can I take your shirt off?” she smiled, placing a short but sweet kiss to my lips, “You can do whatever you want to me” I panted, already being completely whipped for her.
She took my shirt off before whispering in my ear, “You’re such a good boy for letting mommy taking care of you like this” as I helped her get my pants and boxers off. “Such a pretty cock Matty. You gonna let me make you feel good?” Y/n teased, making me squirm a bit. “Please! Please just make me cum!” I pathetically begged as I watched her hand slowly move up and down my cock.
Y/n’s pov
“Anything for my sweet boy. Now tell me what it is that you want baby” I asked softly, loving how fucked out he looked already. “Want your mouth please mommy! Want you to ride me after!” Matt confessed all whiny and desperate, and who was I to deny him that? Without a word, I nodded before bring his tip into my mouth, loving the whimper he let out, “Yeah j-just like that, fuck!” he groaned as I swirled my tongue around his tip.
After teasing Matt a little bit, I decided to fully take him into my mouth, almost immediately deepthroating his cock. “Holy shit mommy! You’re so good at this! I won’t last long!” he cried out, bucking his hips up when I hummed against him. I continued doing this for a few more minutes when I felt Matt start to twitch in my mouth, his lower abdomen contacting as well.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum— shit!” he whimpered as his hips thrusted upward and his left hand came down to hold my head in place. His right hand was pulling at his own hair as he shout a huge load into my mouth, so much that it was literally dripping out of the corners of my mouth. As I came up for air, I wiped the corners of my mouth to clean up the spilled cum and then licked it off.
“Did that feel good Matty? You were such a good boy” I smile as I placed a sweet kiss to his lips. “More! I-I need more! Y/n please, I need you to ride me. I’m so fucking hard still, I need to drain my balls in you” Matt begged me. “So needed aren’t we?” “Yes, please I need you” Matt nearly yelled with tears in his eyes. “Okay, okay, calm down sweet boy. You’ll get what you want, just be patient” I spoke softly as I pulled off my panties and unhooked my bra.
Matts hands immediately went down to my ass, staring up at me with a look of desperation. “Are you gonna be a good boy?” “Very good!” I smiled as I slowly sunk down on his cock, trying to adjust to how long and thick it was. “S-So tight mommy! So f-fucking tight!” Matt whimpered out as I started to move up and down with the help of him. Both of us were moaning quite loudly as I started to move faster, pulling his hair in the process.
“Such a good boy Matty, making mommy feel so good with your big cock!” “W-Want you to cum. Wanna f-fill you up” Matt grunted as he started bucking his hips up into me at a fast pace. We were both very close and with one more thrust that hit my g-spot perfectly, I was cumming on his cock. “Fuck Matt, I’m cumming. Oh god— cum for me baby!” I cried as I rode through my orgasm, starting to slightly overstimulated but wanting Matt to cum.
With a loud whiny growl, Matt came inside of me, this load was equally as big as the one from earlier, instantly dripping down his balls. “Holy shit— I love you, and I’m not just saying that because you gave me the most mind blowing orgasm ever. I genuinely love you Y/n” Matt confess as he started to rub my back. “I love you too Matt, I mean it” I smiled as I placed a soft kiss to his lips “Don’t get off, cockwarm me all night please” he sweetly asked.
I agreed and we got situated so we could lay down, Matt turning off his bedside lamp in the process. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna take you on the best date of your life, but for now, goodnight pretty lady” “Goodnight Matt, I love you” I mumbled into his neck, feeling the sleep take over my body. “I love you too, and thank you for tonight. Now get some rest baby” was the final thing to be said before we drifted off to sleep.
All work is subject to copyright
© Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2023
Do not steal my work
#sturniolo triplets#smut#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplet smut#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets smut#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x you#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets#slutmas#daddyslilchickenfingers
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y/n needs help with sunscreen and, uh, yoongi can definitely help out with that
➺ pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n
➺ genre; ...:-)
➺ wordcount; 1.5k
»»————- ☀️ ————-««
“remind me again why we couldn’t just stay home today?” yoongi grunts, leaning back against the flimsy foldout chair and tilting his head back, squinting slightly as bright rays of white-hot sun seem to shoot directly into his eyes despite him wearing a pair of pretty solid sunglasses, “fucking hell, that’s bright. you need to do something about the sun. can’t you, like, fly up there and shove some clouds in front of it or something?”
god, he hates the outdoors
and he hates the heat
years of living on earth have really softened him because he would like nothing more than to go back home and blast the air-conditioner until the apartment becomes an icebox
“aw, don’t be like that. i, personally, love summer,” jimin sighs, crossing one ankle over the other as he basks in the warmth of the beautiful, golden ball of butter hanging in the sky, “and humans love going to the beach during the summer season! we need to do things that they like now that we live with them. you need to humanize yourself-“
“first of all, you love everything, and second of all, we aren’t humans,” yoongi grunts, reaching over to adjust the umbrella so that he’s covered by more shade, “you could literally sprout wings out of your back if you wanted to, and i could set someone on fire right now if i wanted to. and right now, this heat is making me want to set everyone on fire- oh my god, this shitty umbrella isn’t budging- how far did jungkook stick it into the sand?!“
“NOOOOOO!” both jimin and yoongi look over when they hear jungkook whining, yoongi letting out a laugh of genuine joy when he realises that jungkook’s sandcastle just got completely washed away by a rogue wave
HAH
“oh, no!” jimin gasps, sitting up straight in his seat as if the destruction of jungkook’s sandcastle is the worst possible thing to happen in the entire course of humanity, “oh, gosh… we should help him rebuild his castle, it’s the only right thing to do… i feel awful-“
“awful? that wave did him a favour.” yoongi snorts, “his sandcastle was an ugly little clump of sand, anyway- and if he was smart, he shouldn’t have built it so close to the water-“
“aw, did jungkook’s castle get wrecked?!” yoongi turns his head slightly upon hearing your voice and he isn’t surprised to see a popsicle (or what’s left of a popsicle) in your hand, “i told him not to build it so close to the water but he refused to listen to me. he said he wanted it to be close to the water so the crabs would be able to live in it if they wanted to.”
“yeah, i’m sure the crab real estate market is booming right now-“ yoongi rolls his eyes, “see, jimin? i’m not the only one around here who thinks that jungkook’s sandcastle location was stupid-”
“hey, i never said stupid-“ you drop to your knees on top of your beach towel next to yoongi as you slide the rest of the popsicle off the wooden stick and pop it into your mouth in one go, chomping down on the deliciously citrusy icy crystals, “i jusht said it wahs in a bad locashun-“
“yeah. a bad, stupid location-“
“well, i don’t know about you guys, but i’m gonna go help him!” jimin gets up from his seat, pulling his sunglasses down from the top of his head before shaking his head, “i feel bad, i can practically see the waves of disappointment radiating off of him and i just can’t help but-“
“yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re an angel-“ yoongi dismisses jimin with a flick of his wrist, his eyebrows raising slightly when he sees you peeling your top off to reveal the very cute bikini you have on underneath, “and i am the complete opposite, hello-“ he lowers his sunglasses onto the tip of his nose, shamelessly letting his eyes wander along the slope of your back and the curve of your perky bum as you get settled on your beach towel, “where’ve you been hiding this little number??”
“i haven’t been hiding it anywhere, i just brought it out for the beach!” the corner of your mouth twitches in a smirk as you get comfortable on the soft, warm ground, folding your arms over each other and resting your cheek on top of them — the truth is you have been hiding this little number (it’s a slinky little two piece that matches the fiery orange of yoongi’s newly dyed hair) because you’ve been saving it for a nice beach day like this, “do you think you could help get my sunscreen from-“
“yes.” yoongi rips his sunglasses off his face and gets up from his seat immediately, leaning down to grab the bottle of sunscreen out of your bag, “god, yes, i can help-“ his mouth goes dry when you reach behind yourself to undo the string of your top and he turns to bite his fist because all he wants to do right now is thank satan for linking him up with you
he remembers he was gonna call in sick on that day, too, but thankfully he decided to get out of bed and actually go to work like the good, hardworking demon he is
it’s only a second later that you feel yoongi straddling you gently, crotch pressed against your bum and- “oh- god, yoongi, a little warning would’ve been nice-“ you laugh lightly when you feel a squirt of sunscreen shoot across your back, shutting your eyes as your muscles relax under yoongi’s familiar touch
“your ass looks so fucking good, baby-“ yoongi seems to be mesmerised and in his own little world as he rubs the sunscreen into your skin, letting his hands glide up and down your back in slow sweeps as he takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, “i, like- god, i wanna fuck the shit outta you-“
“yoongi-“ your eyes pop open and you feel your face burn up immediately when yoongi suddenly grips your hips with both hands and forces you up a little
you turn your head to look back at him (which, in hindsight, perhaps only encouraged yoongi even more because he loves when you look back at him when he’s got you on your elbows and knees for him), flustered to see that yoongi’s eyes have gone dark and there’s a certain look of heat swirling around in them, “we are in public-“
“so? there’s an umbrella and we’re off to the side-“ yoongi’s hand slides up your greased-up back before it slinks into your hair, fingers wrapping around your hair before he gives you a gentle yank, “and you love when i fuck you in this position, you were certainly a big fan of it last night-“ he growls playfully, leaning down so he can press a kiss to the back of your ear
“you are shameless!” you can’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief as the logical voice in your head tells you that this is a highly inappropriate way to act on a public beach while the sprinkling of demon in you tells you that you should 100% just let yoongi yank your panties down on a public beach-
“i’m a demon, the fuck did you expect?” yoongi’s other hand grabs a fistful of your ass as he starts rocking against you, “you knew who i was when we got together, you literally summoned me-“
“y/n, jungkook needs your help with his castle!”
“shit- one second!“ you practically shove yoongi off and roll out from under him when you hear jimin’s sweet voice ring out, getting up onto your knees and reaching behind your back to fumble with the strings of your top, “you’re horrible, you know that?”
the last thing you’d want is for jimin to pop his head under the umbrella to see yoongi slutting you out because that would probably traumatise him
“you love it, don’t lie.” yoongi can’t help but chuckle to himself at how flustered you are (even after all this time together, your cheeks still get so pink as if you’re not used to him being so brazen with you all the time) as he plops himself back down on his chair, running a hand through his hair before he leans down to pick his sunglasses up off the floor
“you’re gonna have to help him dig the moat because apparently i didn’t do it as well as you-“
“coming!” you get up onto your feet, dusting the flecks of sand off your hands and looking around for your own sunglasses, “i’m coming, i’m coming-“
“well, not yet, but you will be once we get home.” yoongi coughs, flicking his finger towards you before your sunglasses suddenly float out of your bag and over to you
“you are horrible.” you snatch it midair before anyone notices before scrunching your nose at yoongi in a frown of disapproval
absolutely horrible!
🎙️ scold yoongi and y/n for public indecency (talk to my characters!)
📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)
💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)
🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!)
#demon!yoongi#demon!yoongi drabbles#yoongi drabbles#yoongi headcanons#yoongi one shots#yoongi drabble recs#yoongi fic recs#yoongi headcanon recs#yoongi one shot recs#min yoongi#yoongi smut#yoongi fics#yoongi smut recs#yoongi fluff#yoongi fluff recs
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soon you will be mine, but i want you now
matty healy x reader
A/N: the picture? i’m just a sleaze, sorry! yeah this is part 2 to my previous matty fic! again, i apologize for any switching perspectives. lmk if i’m bad at writing smut.. honest reviews pls!
warnings: smut, literally sex lmao. idiots in love, are they gonna fuck while he’s sick? …sorry, but it wasn’t that bad in the first place! the drama queen likes to play it up. very wordy. bad writing..?😕
You and Matty were friends. Best friends. Well, maybe more than that now. Because you didn’t know any friends who did this with each other, best or not.
Matty’s lips were on yours. Moving firmly against one another. You were in a daze, it seems, because you don’t know how or when you began straddling his lap. Or maybe he put you there? Either way.
He was kissing you with such fervor that it made your whole body hot. He bit down on your lip, and you let out a truly pathetic gasp. This gave him an opening, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.
Matty Healy was going to drive you insane, if he hadn’t already.
You pulled back and put your hands on his chest, breathing heavily. “Need air, Matty. Jesus, you got the lungs of a swimmer or some shit?” You move your neck back farther.
His lips chase yours. He pants, “Just got a lot of practice.” He attaches his lips to your neck. “Wanna practice on you, now.” You feel his teeth sink in, a little above your collarbone. His mouth sucks on the spot.
“You’re- you’re gonna leave a mark.” Your sentence is finished off with a half whimper/half pant. He’s really affecting you. Who knew suppressing emotions for your best friend would lead to tension filled foreplay?
“Mhm, good. Show ‘em all.” He licks over the spot he just sucked. “Can’t wait to see the mark, been wanting you like this for too long.” This is a Matty you’ve never seen before. Eyes dark, ravenous. His hair is messy atop his head, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. You think you want to become accustomed to this Matty.
“You have?” It’s a genuine question, although a stupid one. He just gave you a hickey and you’re asking if he wants you? Maybe it’s an ego thing, but you just want confirmation. You’ve been pining after him for far too long, and now that you have him.. it’s safe to say you want to keep him.
“You’re an oblivious little thing. I’ve always fancied you. Thought for sure ya noticed. Doesn’t matter, though. Have ya now.” Matty continues his assault on your neck, moving lower and lower now. The neck of his your oversized tee is moving lower with each kiss. “Can I take this off you, darling?” His eyes search yours for consent.
You barely get to finish your nod as he yanks the shirt over your head. You had forgone a bra today. Thinking you were only taking care of Matty, and that the tee covered your nipples, you didn’t see the point. Now though, on Matty’s lap, you feel all too exposed.
His eyes are glued to your chest, hands resting on your waist and squeezing the skin every so often. That look in his eyes is going to kill you. But what really does it is the small fuck me that’s whispered under his breath. Your hips give an involuntary roll against his own.
Your whimper makes him look up, you roll your hips again. Matty’s groan sounds too good coming out of his mouth. He tightens his hold on your hips. “Stop moving, yeah? Gonna be a good girl tonight and listen to me?”
Now that, you were not expecting. The moan that rips from your chest is something new. That was uncharted territory, something your old flings had never dabbled into. You didn’t think you were getting dirty talk with Matty. Oh, you were terribly wrong.
“Matty, shit. Please, yes, I’m good.” You didn’t know you had a big submissive side inside of you, but Matty is definitely bringing it out. He rolls his hips up into yours, but his hands restrain you from doing the same.
“Awe, you’re adorable, aren’t you? Just wanna be my good girl? That’s alright, love. You will be.” The snicker that comes along with his smirk is another thing you’re not accustomed to. The condescending tone. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it.
He picks you up from his lap and lays you back on the bed, into his previous spot. Matty had forgone a shirt, something about how hot he was with the ‘fever’. He was only in some sweats, and he looked good. You were aware of your best friends body, but seeing it this way was something else. His muscles and tattoos made your mouth water.
“Eyes are up here, babe.” He laughs at your awed state. His fingers are gilding up and down your leg, toying with the hem of your shorts. “I can take these off?” He asks for confirmation again, ever the gentleman. You nod.
“No, words. Use your words, please.” He smiles, he really is sick, you think.
“Yes, Matty, please.” Your hips buck up as he fiddles with the hem. Goosebumps have risen on your thigh from his touch.
“Good manners too, aren’t you sweet?” He grabs the waistband of your shorts and begins to pull them down. Slowly. Hauntingly slow. He knows what he’s doing, and you hate it.
You’re left in just your light blue underwear, you think it’s only fair if he strips too. “Can you take your pants off, please? Then we’ll be even.”
He simply does as he’s told, and tugs the gray sweatpants down his leg. He kicks them off to somewhere in the room, but your eyes are glued to his briefs.
Without giving you too much time to ogle, his mouth is glued to your chest. Kissing and touching your breasts. “Feel what you do to me?”
He pushed his bulge into your leg as he continues kissing your chest. “Got me so fuckin’ hard from nothing, like a bloody teenager. You always make me this hard.” He groans into your breast.
“Oh, Matty.” Your response is weak, but it’s the only coherent thing that will come out of your mouth.
“Yeah, love when you say my name. Would fuck my fist and think about ya. Moaning, making those pretty noises for me.” You gasp at that, you didn’t think he thought about you in that way.
You knew you’d done it before, but you would never tell. Those nights where you were aching, and desperately needed relief. Where you would slide your hand between your thighs and pretend it was Matty’s. You never knew the feeling was reciprocated.
“Taste so fucking good. Need a real taste. Can I, love? Can I eat ya?” You knew what he was asking, but you were apprehensive. Every time a guy went down on you, you never came. It was nothing personal, you guessed it just wasn’t your cup of tea.
“Yeah, you- you can, Matty. But if I don’t come, don’t feel some way. Never come when guys eat me out.” You shrugged, though you feel your body ignite from the way he looked at you.
“Shame. Guess they weren’t doin’ it right, darling.” He moves down your body and plants kisses on your stomach as he does so. He keeps going when he reaches the waistband of your panties. He kisses you over them.
Matty sits back on his knees and sees the prominent wet spot on your underwear. He puts his thumb atop it and pushes. You gasp, “Fuck, Matty!” clearly not ready for the stimulation.
“All that for me?” And though it’s a rhetorical question, you still nod. “So nice and wet, perfect for me.” He gives you mercy and slides your panties down your legs.
He’s at the edge of the bed now, just laying and staring at your pussy. You almost close your legs out of humiliation, but his strong hands rest on your thighs to pry them open. “Don’t run from me, darling. It’s really a sin to hide this pretty cunt. Really a shame no one’s taken care of her properly.” He runs his finger up your slit, collecting your wetness and pressing on your clit.
Your face heats from his vulgar words, and you let out a whine. Your hands cover your face. “Matty… please.”
“Aw, c’mon. Don’t be shy, ‘m just being honest.” His face gets close to your pussy and you feel his breath against it. The whine you let out is music to his ears. Matty licks a thick stripe, and you let out a guttural moan.
His tongue is all over in the best way possible. He’s sucking on your clit and it’s making you see stars. Your hands fly to his hair and you tug. “Mm, sorry. Don’t wanna hurt ya, just feels good.” You rub his head after your apology.
He speaks, and the vibrations against your cunt are sending you over the edge. “Tug all you want, don’t mind.” You let out a loud moan, and he laughs.
He moves his hand from holding your thigh and sticks one finger in your hole, continuing to suck your clit. Your hips buck from the internal stimulation. His finger moving in and out of you, and his lips around your clit is.. very pleasant, to say the least. Even more so when he adds a second finger.
You let out a sigh of pleasure. Matty curls his fingers. His are so big, yours just don’t compare. 2 of his feels like 3 of yours. He detached his lips from your clit and lays his tongue flat on it. You feel a jolt through your body, the pressure is building.
“Oh! Hm, Matty, I’m-‘m gonna…” You pant out and close your eyes tight, preparing for your orgasm. But it doesn’t come. You don’t cum. That’s because Matty has ceased all movements, moved away from your pussy entirely and is staring at you with a smile on his face.
“Matty! What the fuck, I was just about to cum. Are you serious?” You’re looking at him and pouting, a crease in your brow. He thinks you look positively adorable.
“Terribly sorry, darling.” He pouts back in faux sympathy. “But if you’re gonna cum, it’ll be ‘round my cock, yeah?” He moves to slide his briefs down his legs.
I feel myself nodding absentmindedly. Agreeing, or ready to agree with him. Ready to be compliant for him. And when he takes off his briefs… it really is a sight to see.
Matty’s cock is pretty. Of course it is, just like everything else about Matty. And right now, the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. He’s hard, long and thick. You can see veins popping out, it looks like it hurts.
Your mouth moves before you have chance to think about what your saying, “Want me to suck you off?” and your eyes widen as the words spill out.
“Jesus, what am I gonna do with you?” He asks, and smiles as he looks down at you. Kneeling on the bed, now. Slotted between your thighs. Almost where you need him. “Not today, darling. But thank you for the offer, ‘m sure your mouth feels amazing.”
‘Not today’, the phrase gives you even more hope that this is not a one off thing. That you and your best friend will progress together, and this isn’t just a hookup that will be brushed under the rug.
“I’m gonna go slow, okay? Tell me what you like and what you don’t.” He grabs onto your hands, and it all feels so tender. You’re glad Matty’s in your life.
When he thrusts in, you can’t hold the moan. He can’t hold his either. Matty’s noises are heaven sent. He sounds so good. Gravelly and whiny, but domineering. And with your whining in the back, it all sounds like the perfect soundtrack.
“You- you’re so big, Matty. Don’t know how it fits.” If you were in your right mindset, you would never inflate his ego like this. You know it’s big enough as it is. Oh, well. At least he’s endowed enough to back it up.
His smirk says enough. “Yeah? Filling you up good? This tight cunt? So good f’me. Perfect, like you were made for me.” He continues to pull in and out of you at an unrelenting pattern.
“Oh, God! Mhm, right there, please.” You can’t do much of anything else than cry out for him.
“Not God, just me.” He grins as he keeps thrusting into you, the sound of skin slapping fills the room. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N.” His mouth is right by your ear, you feel feral.
You clench around him. Hearing him pant your name is just the cherry on top. You feel the pressure building again. “Matty, so so close. Please.” Your whimpers and pleas don’t fall on deaf ears. Especially not when Matty brings his thumb around to press on your clit.
“Oh, Matty! Yes, yes please!”
“That’s right. My fucking girl. C’mon, be good for me. Cum. Cum all over my cock, angel. You can do it.”
All you can do is yell Matty’s name. You finally feel that release. Your vision goes white and Matty brings his hand to rest loosely on your neck. He’s still pounding into you, and you’re getting very overstimulated very fast.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. So good for me, whole time. My good little girl, I’m close, shit.” Matty is groaning and panting in your ear, his pace never wavering. You think he has too much stamina. Then, you think that’s a good thing, a really good thing.
“Matty, please. Cum for me, please.” And you don’t care how pathetic you sound, begging for him to finish. You need him that bad.
“Where- where do ya want it?”
You don’t even have to think, “In-inside me, on the pill. Please, cum inside me?”
And Matty’s guttural groan is worth it. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me. Cum inside ya, fill you up real nice. That’s what you want, right babe?”
You nod your head so much that it could fall off your shoulders, and Matty’s thrusts are slowing down. You feel his dick twitch inside of you. You feel his cum dripping down your thighs. Matty pulls out, and you know you’re gonna be sore tomorrow morning.
He’s just staring between your legs, and then, “So pretty, should keep you like this all the time.” he takes two fingers and shoves them inside of you, pushing his cum back in.
Your back arches off the bed, “Fuck me, Matty.”
He collapses into the spot next to me, and pulls me into his chest. “Already did that one, love.” We both let out a giggle.
You two lay there in comfortable silence for a couple moments. His arm is around your body, fingers drawing circles on your bicep. Your hand falls to his chest, tracing his tattoos.
You figure you have to break the silence first. “So… can I be incredibly cliche with the ‘what are we?’ line, or do I need new material?”
Matty let’s out a loud laugh at that. He plants a kiss to the top of your forehead. “Y/N, honestly I’ve liked you for the better half of 8 years. If you want to be my girlfriend, then I’d be happy to be your boyfriend.” The words boyfriend and girlfriend make you giddy. You feel like a schoolgirl on her first date.
“‘Course I’d be your girlfriend, Matty. Don’t know if you could tell, but I’ve liked you too. Obviously.” You giggle a little. There’s a light and airy feeling in your chest. This is good.
“Mhm, take you out on a proper date after this. Dinner, movie, wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do. Suppose I did it out of order. Fucked ya first, then wooing you on a date, yeah?” Matty chuckles a little, rubbing your arm. You laugh, too.
“You woo me everyday, Matty.”
“Careful, flattery gets you everywhere with me. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You smile. Matty smiles. You’re both glowing with happiness. This time, you lean in.
#divider cred: @cafekitsune#matty healy smut#matty healy x y/n#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#matty healy blurb#matty healy fic#matty healy x you#matty healy oneshot#the 1975 smut
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Teacher AU!Wilbur x Reader
hello fellas i'm back with another wilbur fic he has been all i can think about for the past several days. take this
wordcount: 1,461 (part 1/?)
as always this is not proof read sorry lads
part 2 here
Being a teacher is not the job you thought you’d end up with when you were doing career planning in 12th grade, but here you stand.
Back in the same high school you swore never to return to.
Oh, well, then. At least you have mediocre pay and little to no benefits, right?
You sigh and drop a box onto the desk in your mostly empty classroom. It’s bare and almost liminal in a sense, and you can't help but feel creeped out.
You step back from the desk and examine the room with your hands on your hips for a moment before shaking your head. This setup is awful, you decide. Time to change it up a bit.
You get to work pushing desks across the room, trying to ignore the screeching of metal against linoleum. You’re already sweating and it’s only been a couple minutes since you made the decision to completely change the room.
You huff softly as you drag another desk, having two of the legs lifted slightly off the ground. Suddenly, you lose your grip on it, and it falls directly onto your foot.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, yanking your foot out from under it and pulling your leg up protectively, bouncing slightly as you try to keep your balance with your one foot on the ground. Suddenly, you hear a soft knock on your doorframe and you whip your head around to see who it is.
You’re met with the sight of a concerned looking, very, very tall man. He has a mess of curly brown hair and glasses that are too big for his face, though you can’t help but think they suit him.
“Um… Are you alright?” He asks, gesturing to your foot, which you realize you’re still holding. Your face flushes and you put your foot back down on the ground, tucking your hair, embarrassed.
“Yes, I’m okay.” You assure him, laughing awkwardly. “Sorry, uh, for my language.” You apologize, and he cracks a small smile.
“It’s okay.” He assures you, leaning against the doorframe. “Is this your first year teaching?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious as he looks you up and down. You nod.
“Yeah, it is.” You admit, starting to drag the desk again. The man winces at the sound.
“Do you need help?” He asks, and you nod instantly.
“Yes please.” You say, sighing in relief. He walks over and lifts the other side of the desk, following your lead when you take it to the corner of the room. He clears his throat as the both of you work.
“So, I assume you’re the new English teacher, then…?” He asks, and you nod, stepping back to look at your now rearranged room. You hum softly in approval of the sight.
“Uh, yeah, I am.” You say, realizing you haven’t introduced yourself. You wipe your palms on your pants and reach out, offering your name and a handshake. He accepts.
“I’m Wilbur.” He introduces himself. “Though you’ll have to refer to me as Mr. Soot in front of the kids, I suppose.” He says, shrugging. You smile gently.
“Well, Mr. Soot, I appreciate the help.” You tell him, and he nods, glancing away and then back to you, looking a little shy.
“It’s no problem, really.” He mumbles, scratching the back of his head. Your attention is drawn toward his outfit, then, and you let out a startled laugh.
“Is that The Front Bottoms? No way, I love them.” You say. He looks a little surprised, but nods eagerly.
“It is! You like them?” He asks, the nervousness slipping away slightly.
“Yeah, of course!” You say, beaming up at him. “I’ve seen them in concert twice.” Wilbur groans at the news.
“Unfair, I’ve been wanting to see them for forever.” He says with a small pout. You giggle.
“Well, I wish you luck on getting tickets.” You say, lazily saluting. He laughs softly.
“Well, now I’m glad I wore this shirt today.” He says. “You’ll probably not see me in it again for a while, I don’t dress casually on school days.” He says, crossing his arms and leaning against your wall. You hum.
“Oh? And what do you teach, again?” You ask, and he sighs.
“Oh, God, good question. Well, I’m supposed to be the History and Geography teacher, but the board found out I can play instruments, so now I’m supposed to be teaching a combined history-slash-music class. I had to plan the whole class in a month.” He complains, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation. You wince.
“Yikes. That sounds interesting, though. How did you manage that? Is it, like, just exploring the history of music?” You ask, and he nods.
“Yeah, pretty much.” He admits, rubbing his arm. “It’s probably gonna be a shit class, since I barely had time to put anything together.” He says with a sigh. “But I’m supposedly the ‘boring’ teacher anyway, so it’s not like I have a reputation to uphold anyway.” He says sarcastically. You frown.
“Boring? You don’t seem boring to me, why do they think you’re boring?” You ask, genuinely bewildered. He winces.
“Ah, well, I was a new teacher last year, so my lessons were very, uh, by the book, I guess you could say. I didn’t really put any of my own spins on the lessons or anything because I was too focused on trying to drill information into their brains.” He says, sounding a little embarrassed.
“Ahh, I see.” You say sympathetically, nodding. “Well, what do you have planned for this year?” You ask, gesturing for him to come sit at your desk with you. You grab one of the plastic chairs for yourself and let him sit in your spinning chair.
“Well, I’ve been trying to think of ways to spice geography up, so I found a couple games I thought might be interesting to have them play in class.” He says, tapping on his chin thoughtfully as he sits back in your chair, looking up at the ceiling. “I might have them playing Geoguessr.” He says, resting his hands on his lap.
“Oh, that sounds fun!” You say, clapping your hands lightly. “I wish I could do something like that for my class.” You say.
He turns his gaze back to you. “Well, what grade are you teaching English for?” He asks. “Because if you’ve got freshmen and sophomores, I’d say it’s probably not the best idea, but if you’ve got the juniors and seniors, you could definitely do something with them.”
You nod. “I’m teaching for juniors and seniors, actually. But I have a senior creative writing class, too.” Wilbur looks pleased at the news.
“Oh, really? What’ve you got planned for creative writing?” He asks, smiling softly. “I always like seeing what the students come up with, some of the kids from last year were actually really good.” He says. You smile back.
“Well, I’ve planned a unit on the butterfly effect, but I also want to do some poetry next term.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear and gently tapping your fingers on the desk. Wilbur hums thoughtfully.
“Well, poetry could be fun. I’m a shit poet, honestly, but I mean, at least they make for good song lyrics?” He says, wincing slightly before waving his hand to dismiss the topic. “That will be fun, though, I think. Is it an elective or required class?”
“Just an elective.” You respond, tucking away the comment about song lyrics for later. You still your hands and place them flat on the desk. “Thankfully. I don’t know if I could force a bunch of uninterested kids into actually doing the work if it was required.” You say, shaking your head. He makes a sympathetic sound.
“Yeah, I understand. Sometimes I wish that I taught more elective classes, but there’s not really many history or geography related electives I would be eligible to teach, anyway.” He says, chuckling to himself. “Maybe if the kids drive me crazy enough I’ll just give up and have ‘em watch Crash Course videos for the whole class.” He jokes, and you giggle softly.
“If only, if only.” You say, sighing dramatically. After a pause – a few moments of comfortable silence – you speak up again, clearing your throat.
“So how’s the cafeteria food here? Any good? I mean, when I went to school here it sucked, any developments?” You ask.
“Oh, you went here for high school?” He asks, before shaking his head. “Unfortunately no, by the way. What year did you graduate? I graduated in ‘18.” He says, pushing his large glasses up.
“Oh, I graduated in 2019. We’re only a year apart, that’s cool.” You say, then glance at the time. “Shit, it’s nearly five.” You say, frowning. “I need to finish setting up my room.” You say, standing up and sighing. He nods in understanding.
“That’s alright, I’ll leave you to it.” He says, standing up too. “Unless you need help, still?”
You shoot him a grateful smile but shake your head. “No, it’s alright. Thank you, though. For helping, and for keeping me company. I’ll, uh, see you around?” You ask, and he nods.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll make sure to drop by your classroom.” He says, running a hand through his curls. “And, um, don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.” He adds, sounding a bit shy.
“Of course, thank you so much, Wilbur.” You say, grateful you’ve got someone to talk to now. You smile at him, though it looks a bit exhausted. “I’ll see you Monday.”
“I’ll see you Monday.” He agrees, waving at you before stepping out and walking down the hall to his own room. The second he walks away you have to take a moment to breath.
What the fuck, he was cute.
#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur x reader#wilbur soot x you#wilbur soot fanfic#wilbur x you#teacher wilbur#teacher reader
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i’m getting my drains out tomorrow and i’m sure things will be different after they’re gone, so here’s my observations about top surgery recovery as of 6 days post-op!
(click here for my first post, from 3 days after)
something i forgot to mention in my last post is that if they tell you a medication has to be taken with food, do not fuck with that. absolutely do not. my antibiotic had to be taken with food and on day 2, i thought “well, i just had breakfast not too long ago, surely that’s close enough and i’ll be fine” and my parents agreed, but guess what? i spent the next hour in hell. the meds made me nauseous so i had to eat, but eating still hurt a lot because of the sore throat from being intubated, so trying to make it better just caused me more pain. and both the sore throat and the nausea (which i guess was as much a heartburn sort of situation as it was nausea) were both very chest-adjacent feelings, so that on top of the usual pain and discomfort from surgery was just a perfect storm of horrible things all centralized to one part of my body. it was awful, and i will never fuck around with something like that again. that being said, if you do find yourself in that situation or are just looking for something light that will still do the job because you’re not that hungry, 10/10 would recommend oatmeal and apple sauce. apple sauce is what finally got my body to stop rioting against me and my bad decisions, and after that i started always taking it halfway through a bowl of oatmeal and that worked perfectly.
on day 4, i was able to sit up and get out of bed by myself for the first time! i still can’t do it just by using my core muscles, but if i hold onto my legs and lower them, i can sort of roll myself up into a sitting position without using any of the affected muscles too much.
on day 5, the sore throat from hell that being intubated gave me finally went away! cheers to not gripping my pillow in pain every two seconds while i swallow my spit anymore. it lasted a while, but it honestly went away pretty fast — on day 4 it was a bit better than it had been, and then the next day it was just gone.
also on day 5, i really started to feel the bandages digging into my armpits. i’m not sure if it’s because the bandage has been slipping up over time, if my armpits have some extra swelling now, or if it’s just been wearing my body down over time, but it feels like it’s starting to cut off circulation at a certain point and it makes my arms ache sometimes. that’s probably not great, but the surgeon will be redoing everything at my post-op anyway so i’ve just been riding it out until then. in the meantime, i can tell it’s definitely worse when i’m sitting back and kind of slouched (because that position pushes it up more), so i try to sit up or walk around when i feel it. having pillows on either side of me to put my elbows up on definitely also helps a lot — that’s how i’ve been sleeping, but it would be good for just sitting too.
also also on day 5, i started getting this weird fluttery feeling in the spot where the left side of my chest and the meat of my left armpit connect. it feels like it’s probably some sort of muscle spasm. it’s not painful at all, but i honestly wish it was because it’s just super weird and uncomfortable instead and i hate it. it genuinely might be my least favorite out of any pains or sensations i’ve had so far. luckily, though, it seems like it’s already died down and only happened a couple times today.
my energy has been all over the place. i’m at the point now where mentally i’m much closer to my normal state so i’m once again having the adhd urge to constantly do stuff, but my body’s ability to keep up is far less consistent. sometimes i get restless and can just get up and pace around for a while, but other times i try to do that and get really quickly exhausted. i’m definitely more able to have conversations and feel more like myself now though, even when my body is tired out.
i’ve been thirsty as all hell the past few days. i feel like i’m constantly asking my boyfriend to refill my water for me because i drain it so fast. it’s a very specific kind of thirst, too — like it never quite goes away even when i’m definitely very thoroughly hydrated, and like anything but water can’t even touch it. it’s not a bad thing, getting lots of fluids after surgery is important and i wouldn’t be surprised if that’s exactly why my body is doing it, but it is a bit frustrating to just be incessantly thirsty for days at a time.
my walking posture is getting straighter every day. i still have to hold my chest to walk because of the bandage feeling like it drags things down, but if i’m walking with my mastectomy pillow, it mostly just looks like a typical slouch and not the deep hunch i started with.
at this point, my chest is super sensitive to any kind of movement, and that’s the other thing the pillow has been really good for at this stage. if the bandage shifts at all, if my body moves at all, basically anything — i feel it all in my chest really intensely. it’s not always painful, but it isn’t comfortable either. holding the pillow to my chest helps stabilize things so the movement doesn’t reach the sensitive parts as much, which is really great.
walking up stairs is easier than walking down stairs, which is the exact opposite of what i would’ve guessed. from what i can tell just from moving around, i think it’s because bending your legs up to a higher step pretty solidly relies on your legs and lower core muscles to make it happen, while reaching your legs down to a lower step requires stretching your body out (which is famously not your body’s favorite thing to do after top surgery). it often feels like i almost can’t reach the step below and have to just barely catch it with the balls of my feet. it’s also just generally been good to take the stairs super slow going up or down because you really can’t use the railing — putting enough weight on it to really rely on it at all requires using chest muscles, so the best i’ve been able to do is just rest my hand on it in case of emergency (because i’d rather hurt my chest than crack my head open if it comes to that).
one of the things that makes the stairs hard is that my center of balance is off from hunching, and that definitely affects my walking too. it’s less pronounced now that i’m in the habit of using the pillow to walk straighter, but i have to take shorter strides and sort of shuffle around because longer strides need better balance, and even with the shuffle i’m stumbling more than usual. i already have some balance problems so i’m pretty used to the feeling of it, but it has freaked my parents out a couple times to see me start listing to one side before i catch myself.
fuck reflexes. reflexes are the actual worst. something i didn’t anticipate is that no matter how careful you are to not reach your arms too far or move them too fast, you can never totally account for what you do if something starts falling. a few times now, i’ve definitely reached too far or fast before stopping myself because i saw something about to go down and my brain instinctively told my hands to catch it. i’m not sure if there’s anything you can really do about that, but it’s worth being aware of because it caught me by surprise the first time i did it.
one side of my chest has been consistently more swollen than the other. that side has also consistently drained less, and the fluid it does drain is darker and redder. we asked my surgeon if that was normal and she said there’s almost always one side that drains more than the other, but it’s still something we’ve been keeping an eye on. hopefully i’ll be able to get a more concrete answer at my post-op, once she can see the swelling up close and look at the drainage numbers from the past week.
as i’ve been getting some use of my body back, the pain in my chest has gotten a bit more obvious. it’s milder pain, and when i’m not doing anything it’s mostly painless to the point where i’m going a lot longer between tylenol doses, but when i’m using my body, i can definitely feel it. the fact that i’m not avoiding physical activity like the plague as much means i’m noticing more pain even though objectively my pain levels have gone down — the things that hurt now didn’t hurt less before, i just didn’t even attempt them before because i knew they would hurt so much. now that the pain is down, i can try more things, which means i’m more likely to try something that ends up hurting. of course, you should always try to follow the if-it-hurts-then-stop rule, but you can’t avoid the pain altogether as you learn your body’s boundaries, so i ended up getting to a point where getting better feels like getting worse.
on that note, i’ve also learned that there’s a pretty distinct difference between milder “i should proceed with caution” pain and intense “stop what you’re doing right now” pain. as much as avoiding things that hurt is ideal, it’s not always realistic, but my body has definitely been very clear in telling me what i can and can’t compromise on. in the beginning i was really paranoid about doing anything that caused any pain at all, but now i’m more familiar with where i can push a bit further if needed and where i really need to hold off.
i’ve been getting chills much more easily lately, and they’ve also been SUPER strong. i’ll be watching a show or listening to music and something will give me chills, and it’s a really intense feeling all across my ribs, and even thinking about the thing that caused it brings on a whole new wave. i’m super curious to see if it’s just a temporary result of my nerves doing their thing or if it’ll stick around long-term. it’s not unpleasant at all, i honestly really like it.
i got some food for myself for the first time today (day 6) and it just involved slicing some pretty soft cheese, but wow, it was a workout for my shoulder. i’m guessing it’s because i haven’t really used my muscles in that way for a week, and because not being able to use my chest muscles means i was relying on my shoulder a lot more to do all the work of moving my arm. by the time i was done, just holding the block of cheese to put it back in the fridge felt like lifting weights.
i didn’t change my shirt the first few days but i’ve changed a few times now, and we’ve perfected the art of getting a button up shirt on me without overreaching my arms at all. basically, you want to put both arms into the sleeves before you lift the shirt up onto your shoulders, because once the shirt is on one shoulder, you have to reach back a lot farther to get to the other sleeve. once you have both arms in, you can lift it onto your shoulders and button it. ideally, whoever’s helping you should do most of the work to pull the sleeves over your arms so you don’t have to stretch your arm out to get them on. i’m sure that’ll be overkill once i have a bit more mobility, but for now, it works great. it definitely would be tough if the shirt was fitted though, so i’m glad i went up a size.
i hope my posts like this have been helpful, or at least interesting to read! i’ll definitely keep updating as time goes on and things change, and i’m also going to work on a breakdown of my experience at the hospital pre- and post-op, as well as my post-op appointment experience once that happens tomorrow.
y’all are getting the good, the bad, and the ugly of my recovery experience. i know a lot of this has been very focused on the bad and the ugly so far because surgery is generally rough, but i’m going to see my chest again tomorrow so stay tuned for some good!
#bet you weren’t expecting an even longer post than my last one#i just have so much to say about this whole experience#i want to document EVERYTHING especially the stuff i haven’t seen other people mention#top surgery adventures#top surgery#trans man#transmasc
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Intrigued With You
I ii iii iiii
Yandere! Pinocchio x Fem! Mechanic! Reader
Warnings: Implied toxic familial relationship, unbalanced power dynamics between the reader and Geppetto, very slight mental breakdown, slowly going into a downwards spiral, paranoia, mentioned past violence and stalking. When the full game comes out, this work may be completely different from the actual game. Please tell me if I missed any.
This blog contains/creates/interacts with dark content.
Minors/blank blogs/blogs that don’t reblog any fan art or fan fiction DNI.
Word count:3096k
Over all story summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a bit too much of an interest in you: in which you fucked up in this chapter.
==
The public’s opinion of you started to go downhill since then.
It’s been a week, and while most of the citizens won’t throw rocks or stalk you, they still stare – glares that are sharper than a knife, cutting deep into your arteries. You could practically feel the blood oozing out, a puddle forming underneath you as you stood on the stage, heart threating to explode any second now. The crowd just stares, and the puppet next to you cheers. How funny. The damn puppet is offering you more support than the intended audience.
Your foot taps against the wood. Your head throbs and you hold back a scream. You’re a monkey in a circus and they’re throwing peanuts at you.
“Hello everyone. I am here today to introduce a new, and improved, Nanny Puppet, upgraded with new codes and everything.” Your smile is strained, some of the people cheering with others sitting in silence. Seems as though some are genuinely interested and perhaps even excited about the new developments.
Glancing at your uncle who rests behind the curtains to the side, he nods his head. But most of his attention was on the puppet rather than you. “And it even comes with settings you can adjust yourself at home.”
The Nanny cheers again, robotic, and staticky still. So lifeless, its entire being written on a script. But as you look over the crowd on the wooden stage, head light and heart thumping like thunder, you feel the same. From the way you are standing, to the wave of your hands and your words, is all scripted.
A script written by your uncle.
“Now, come,” you gesture to The Nanny, and it listens, turning its back towards the crowd as you stand next to it. There’s buttons and latches, and you undo them all, with a quick ‘sorry,’ uttered into its ‘ear.’ A habit you picked up from the years of working with your uncle.
And with the rise of malfunctions, part of you thinks it’s for the best. Pretend you’re sorry to them, and maybe when everything goes south, they’ll take pity on you. Paranoia doesn’t look good on you, you realize, showing the audience the off switch, the lights in its eyes dimming as it turns off. This wasn’t a new feature.
But the kill switch is.
“As you can see, the power switch is still enabled, even in these new models. So, don’t worry about that, but!” you bring out a control panel from your waistcoat pocket. It’s small enough to fit in your hand, and on the black surface lies a red button, a little glass cap covering it. To prevent any accidental touches. You grip it a little too hard.
“This right here is a kill switch. Now, I’m not going to press it,” your thumb rubs circles over the cap. You can’t find it in you to force another smile, mentally and physically drained from everything. “But the moment you press it, the puppet will immediately shut down… but it won’t turn on again, either.”
There’s some ‘ooo’s’ and ‘awe’s,’ but the silence of the rest is what puts you on edge. They’re most likely the protesters. You wouldn’t be surprised if this stage would set fire any minute now. You shudder at the thought. Another glance at your uncle – he nods, again.
But his eyes are still mostly focused on the puppet. You can’t tell if it is in interest, hope, or disappointment. Just like how you can’t tell if there’s still warmth in his eyes when he looks at you.
“How does it work?”
You blink, off guard. A woman raised her hand, curious eyes drilling into you. You prepared yourself for this, practicing in front of a mirror for hours on end. You got this. You need to. You might fall apart otherwise.
“So, essentially, it – “
“Or, how about you don’t make them at all? The puppets, I mean.” A man speaks up, hat hiding his gaze, but you feel the hatred and frustration radiating off him in waves. You prepared yourself for this too. But reality still sends you reeling back mentally, the thought of rocks being thrown, or stage set on fire. At least he pretends to be respectful, even with his group frowning at you.
Your body trembles the slightest bit.
“Oh – um… I understand where you come from. It’s… it can be difficult to see use in the puppets, but they’re mostly here for when you can’t do something or need extra help…” you can’t tell if you’re lying to him or saying the truth – it’s all part of the script. And truthfully, you agree with him.
You just keep your mouth shut on the matter.
“They’re taking our jobs, you know? Oh wait, you probably don’t – you’re well-off, producing and selling these… things.” The same man shakes his head before pushing others out of his way – he stops just shy of an inch before the stage. “You don’t have to worry about them stealing your job. For now, at least.”
He adjusts his hat, and the contempt in his eyes is so heavy you’re on the verge of drowning. You swallow. You do know, you do, but it’s not like you could do anything. You already tried, you tried, but talking doesn’t work and –
“Alright, alright, I think that’s enough for now.” Your uncle comes out, places a hand on your shoulder. It feels more restricting than comforting. “It’s been a rather long day for everyone, hasn’t it? The sun is going down, and dinner time is drawing near. Same place and time tomorrow, as it was yesterday and today.”
Unlike you, he sounds confident. Gentle, but firm, and yet, you’re starting to grow more wary of him than the protesters. You wish you could hurry and pick a side. Money or no money, everything was starting to seem more futile, meaningless. You want to live under a rock.
Live under a rock and become separated from your job. You tap your foot more aggressively, biting your lip once your back is turned to the crowd. Your hands twitch even with the control in your hands.
He doesn’t leave room for debate, guiding you on the shoulder to walk down the stage and to his little personal workshop. The police – puppets, again – prevent anyone from getting close. You weren’t here yesterday; it was just him. Did he go through the same thing? Is that why he’s so calm, so natural about it?
Or was he always like this? Disconnected from everything that did not concern his work, his dreams? His puppet, his –
“… Uncle,” you fiddle with the control in your hands. “Did anyone accompany you yesterday?” You can’t find it in you to look at him. Can’t even talk properly, no matter how hard you try to accept everything, like you should. It’s expected of you. And maybe it is because of that, that you can’t find yourself willing to do so.
“Mm. Howard did. It was a welcomed surprise.” He chuckles low in his throat, adjusting his hat as you make way home. Guilt immediately starts to boil within, your heart squeezing painfully as your throat closes in on itself. “He’s a fine young man indeed.”
“He is, isn’t? Such a nice young man…” you agree, nodding your head, ignoring the gnawing at your chest. You care about him, dreadfully so, to the point it was horribly painful. Which was why you tried to keep him out of your business.
But he was just so stubborn.
“Hm,” he takes a glance at you; eyes shifting from one side to another. You see it but don’t think much of it. But even so, you can’t ignore the lack of warmth in his gaze. “I heard he’s been visiting you more often now. Are you two perhaps…?”
“No! No, it’s not like that. It won’t ever be like that again.” You laugh, shaking your head. You fidget with the control more. You look down at your hands – scars and light burns decorate them like tattoos. No longer as ‘pretty’ as society would like to describe.
The though brings out a laugh.
“It just won’t work out.”
“How come?” He sounds interested, but not in a caring way – it was in a way that made you feel like a test subject. “You were such a great pair. He would have made an excellent son-in-law for your parents.”
You grit your teeth. “Yeah. He would have. But that’s neither here nor there; it’s in the past. And it will forever remain in the past.” Your face feels hot – anger? Shame? Annoyance and irritation jabbing at every corner of your very being, you try your best to remain stoic about the conversation. Even if you subconsciously know he’s taking a jab at you.
Even though he has no reason to.
You were sure of it now – all of the warmth that was inside your uncle was slowly becoming cold. Was he always this type of man? Cold? Disconnected from everything? But surely, there was still some left for you, right?
A faint chuckle. “I apologize – I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. I wasn’t aware that it was still a touchy subject.” His fingers dig into your shoulder before his grip loosens. He pats it twice before fully letting you go, turning his head to smile at you.
You think it was meant to be gentle. “It’s fine. It was my fault for… assuming you had other intentions by bringing it up.” It’s a lie. It wasn’t fine, and you both know that. But it should be okay, because he’s a man you consider to be your uncle, and of course uncle Geppetto always wants what’s best for you. It would crush you if he didn’t.
“Mm, that’s the spirit. Don’t let anything drag you down.” You’re at his personal workshop now, the wind picking up. It’s getting colder. The leaves are starting to fall more and more, flowers wilting as the days go by. Just like you.
“Now then, I hope you take great care of him. I have other business to attend to, but I wanted to make sure you made it back safe and sound.” Your uncle gives you exactly two pats on the back. Adjusting his glasses, he turns to look at you, smiling.
Smiling, smiling, smiling – it’s all he does. It’s what unnerves you the most. It’s what the citizens hate about him. It’s what unarms your family. It’s what feels the most inhuman about him.
“Yes, of course,” you reply, nodding your head. Your fingers start scrapping against the control gently. Foot tapping, you attempt to smile. “I would never harm… it. It is also my project, you know?”
It wasn’t.
“Mm, yes, of course. Thank you for all your hard work.” And with a tilt of his hat, he’s off – you watch his retreating back, the muscles with every movement. You just realized he could easily overpower you.
Your fingers dig harder into the control until you can feel your fingernails digging into your own flesh. You wonder if he would turn against you if you were to abandon this job field.
--
Two hours and forty minutes.
That’s how long you have been tampering with the legion arm – your uncle begged you to stop calling it a mechanical arm – greasing it, tightening the screws, making sure that the fingers curl just like a real hand would. And of course it did – it should, especially since nearly all your paychecks and funds go into this puppet and not your own personal life.
Two hours and forty minutes, plus two months and you’re barely about to be done with this damn thing. You finished two other ones before this, but even then, you might have to ‘fix’ them. Make sure that they’re up to your uncle’s very high standards.
“Fuck… why am I even working on this thing? This is the least of our concerns, not to mention – ow, fuck!” In your hurry to get another type of screwdriver, you pushed over a failed ‘heart’ test dummy. It lands directly on your foot, causing you to drop everything else as you hold it with your trembling hands.
They were doing that more often. “Wow, okay, great. Sure, let’s just let everything fall on you. God, I’m going crazy. I might turn into a menace before the protesters and puppets do.” Running a hand through your hair, you pace back in forth, biting your free thumb.
Every time you enter this godforsaken place, your sanity dwindles bit by bit. “Okay, let’s calm down – my foot isn’t bleeding, I think. I should… I should take a break.” Despite your words, you go back to working – picking up the old ‘heart’ and placing it back on the messy table.
Research papers messily stacked at a corner, puppet parts scattered all over, grease stains on the wood. The table wears scratch marks like medals of honor. Pausing for a moment, you walk to the far-right side of the table, picking up the papers and placing them into a clean square bin on the floor. You kick it to some random corner of the workshop.
The urge to rip them to shreds is, in a way, comforting. If those were gone, how could you continue on? They even had blueprints. Nails dig into your palms at the thoughts. Not harsh enough to draw blood, however.
“Hm, I should clean up… but what’s the point? Everything gets scattered again, uncle moves the parts to the most random of places, Howard ends up losing them… so much to do, such little time.”
Ranting to yourself, you stomp to the table again, picking up the new and ‘official’ heart for the puppet. You remember putting it elsewhere. In a drawer. Safe and sound.
And yet, it was on this stupid, stupid table –
“Are they trying to kill me?” you mumble out, on the verge of pulling out strands of your hair. “Not only that, but the fact I could have been harmed today… he knows they already threw stones at me, why make me appear in public again? Why get on the wooden stage that could easily be consumed by fire?”
Without thinking, you stride over to the puppet sitting on the red plush chair. When you’re shy a few inches from it, you take a moment to admire its beauty – the eyes were closed. Long eyelashes that cast shadows onto pale, freckled ‘skin.’ The carob brown hair still looked as soft as ever, with messy curls that remind you of his hair back when he was younger.
Back when everything was normal. Gentler times where warmth wasn’t forced into honeyed words, when you weren’t so scared of being beaten to death. When everything was fine. Happy.
It was missing the left arm – the legion arm. You cast a glance behind you, spotting the arm on the table. That’s the one he wants to put on for now. The most simple, basic one, no complicated functions, no paint, just metal. You decide to leave it.
Turning to face the puppet again, tilting your head, you really take in its appearance; it has an average body type. Maybe a bit more on the lean side, but aside from the pretty face and missing arm, it looked human. It looked normal.
And that’s what scares you.
“…,” against your better judgement, your hand reaches out. Fingertips graze against the cheeks, feeling how cold and smooth it was. It’s flawless compared to your hand. You pause to see if the puppet will move at your touch. When it doesn’t, you bring your hand up, taking a closer step to it. The hair was soft, fluffy. It didn’t feel fake like it should.
It felt real.
“… I shouldn’t be doing this. Hah. I really am going crazy.” The thread that was holding your sanity together was close to snapping. Again, against your better judgement, you act on impulse. Unbuttoning the white button-down, you feel your heart drop at how… human it looks.
But upon closer inspection, there was a thin line, forming a square across the chest. There was a little screw, the opening to inside of the chest. Huffing, you dig into your overcoat pocket, retrieving the specific screwdriver – your uncle makes you carry it like a lifeline. However, you are not sure if he thought it through – what if someone mugged you?
Your hand hesitates as you hold the screwdriver, hovering by the opening. The ‘heart’ was still in your hands. It starts to beat slowly, almost as if coming to life. “… Uncle might kill me if I mess with his favorite puppet…”
Instead of heeding your own words, you open the chest cavity, placing the screwdriver back into your pocket. You’ve seen it before; hollow, wires connecting with each other and to the sides. There’s a small open space where a human heart would be. You look at the one in your hand before nodding your head.
You were acting rebellious, in a way. And it may very well lead into your downfall, either being killed by a puppet going haywire or by your uncle’s red, blinding rage.
You hesitate before gently putting the ‘heart’ into its assigned area. Connecting the wires to it, patting it, watching as it starts to glow, beating steadily. You did not think twice about your actions. After a second, you close it, screwing it shut before walking serval steps away.
Nothing happens.
“Hah… ha-ha, what was I thinking? I went from zero to a hundred within a few minutes… I should take a few days off. Maybe even a week…” chuckling to yourself, you rub your head. You’re getting a migraine. Much be too much caffeine, that coffee would eventually kill you.
Turning around, you walk away from the puppet, heading towards the door to get some fresh air. To force some sanity back into your head before you scream your lungs out and pull out every single strand of your hair out. The longer you stay here, the worse you become.
Creak.
You stop in your tracks, blood turning cold. No. surely not – your eyes widen when you realize how stupid you are. You were dumb enough to connect the wires to the heart. But! When your uncle did that, this didn’t –
You turn your head around so fast you almost snap your neck. Your heart drops.
It opens its eyes, and the first thing it sees is you.
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Teacher’s Pet III
A/N: the moment you have been waiting for is here. a fan favorite has made a return. It’s been a year? maybe more? I hope it was worth the wait!! planning a part 4 finale for this, promise it will not take a year this time hehe - n + d
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masterlist
pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
warning: smut, daddy kink, overstimulation
word count: 3.9k
Harry was hooked, effectively fucked.
He was spending a ridiculous amount on her streams and paying extra for sessions to speak to her. He couldn’t get enough, not when he knew he could have her so easily. Oddly enough, she had began to text him outside of the hours allotted and he didn’t mind at all. She was quite bright.
Was it wrong of him to do this? To take on the fact that his student was doing wonderful sex work and then help her tutor every week? Yeah. Probably. But no one had quite gotten him off like she had. She was so needy and so willing to give in to him, the pleading tone of her voice making his cock grow heavy with need. Y/N was able to so easy give up all her inhibitions and connect– and that was truly something he hadn’t experienced before. His ego grew every time she sent him a message, especially when he knew he’d been the object of her affection. She was in class when it happened the first time. His phone buzzed in his pocket, only for him to check when the movie had started that she had texted him she was wet. His spirit became brighter after that day.
When she had texted him a simple hello? He responded promptly. It was a Tuesday night, nothing special.
‘Hello, princess. May I help you?’ He responded.
Was it wrong for her to pay special attention to a guy from her streams? He was paying her for every conversation, sitting in on every stream. God, how did he even have the money to stay for as long as he did? She truly didn’t know, but it was hot. Really hot.
His body was stuck in her mind, every time she got off she thought about him and him making a total and complete mess of her. It excited her, his words edging her on. Of course, she was a sucker for whatever he gave her... she desperately wanted to hear him too. She had heard his moans, but she wanted to hear more.
Y/N was definitely buttering him up, texting him whenever she felt like it had been a few days and she felt like she could. They were forming quite the friendship. She hated to think that the reason she got so wet over this daddyh character was because he in a way reminded her of her professor.
‘yes please 🥺’
‘Sorry if this is a lot but I’m feeling really needy today’
Y/N had to meet with her professor tomorrow and she was desperate for some relief so she wouldn’t accidentally do something when he tutored her tomorrow. She just wanted to live in that little fantasy while she could.
‘That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.’
‘Actually, it does please me quite a bit to know I’m the one you’re coming to.’
He had double texted and felt his stomach warm at the fact that she had chosen him. She had decided that he was the one she wanted to talk to while she was being needy, that she was in need and want to speak to. Their conversations weren’t always sexual— they’d spoken about a plethora of things. But there was always that... tension. And more often than not, she would hint that she was all alone in bed and it would spiral at that.
‘What can I do for you, baby? How can I help...’
He was wanting so badly to know how he could help her. If she wanted just more attention, or if she wanted something else. Money, too. He would give her anything she desired.
Y/N felt her stomach warm up, genuinely pleased at the fact that he was more than happy with her sending him messages like this. She didn’t want to seem clingy or like she was trying to get money from him, she genuinely enjoyed talking to him and he was a very good and loyal viewer of hers so why not.
‘awe good 🥰’
‘I’m happy to hear that’
Not only was he good at keeping conversation but he had proven time and time again that he was caring and it made her heart swell. Y/N wasn’t one to fall for people just like that, but he was slowly ticking off her boxes and she was so so needy for something to get her mind off of her professor. When he asked what he could do for her? She decided to be a little bold.
‘I was thinking maybe we could do a call?’
‘Free of charge of course! Really, I just thought it would be nice to actually get to talk to you and stuff :)’
Harry didn’t see an issue. Voices over the phone sounded distorted and if he spoke lowly in his throat, then he didn’t see the problem. Especially because he really, really would like it.
He decided to call instead of responding. Maybe he was a bit bold in that, but it didn’t matter. He was more than happy to speak to her and wanted to hear her voice in real time. He was praying that she was going to use that cute voice she did when she spoke to his username on the live stream.
“Hello, love.” He said when she answered. His voice was more gravelly and deeper, laying back on his bed. “Why are you feelin’ needy?”
“Hiii” A whine left from her lips once she heard him speak. “You didn’t tell me you had an accent....” Y/N was a pool in her panties. His voice was so deep and low, her pussy was already throbbing. “Daddy, you.... I love your voice.” She said shyly, feeling like he was really just her wet dream.
“I had an okay day today, I was studying and stuff but I just get really frustrated sometimes... my professor is really nice about it though.” Y/N’s Professor also happened to be British so this wasn’t making things any easier on her.
It was insane to hear her arousal. She had whined at his voice. He loved how she said Daddy so naturally, so eager to talk to him. The way she brought him up too— he was curious.
“M’sorry I didn’t, sweet girl. I forget I have an accent.” He wasn’t lying either— he really did forget often that he had an accent and that it was different than hers. Lack is awareness maybe. He’d been living in the states for a while now.
“Thank you for the compliment. And I understand being frustrating, studying must be hard. But you’re such a good girl for doing it anyway.” He was taunting a little bit, slipping the good girl in there without a second thought. “I’m also glad to hear your professor is nice. Good teachers are always an asset to the learning of students.” He murmured, stretching out on the bed. He could hear shuffling on the other side and chuckled.
Y/N was lapping this up. She swore hearing him just like that wasn’t enough, she wished she put on headphones so she could hear him as if he was right there with her but this would do. Instead, she decided to put him on speaker stripping out of the clothes she had left so she could just be naked.
“Y’alright? Moving quite a bit over there.”
“Yeah— sorry, I just got really hot so I took of my shirt.” Y/N told him, “We don’t have to do stuff right now either, I just wanted to talk to you and hear your voice.” She felt the warmth in her cheeks rising like crazy, knowing that maybe it was a bit much to say to someone who was merely a supporter of hers but she meant it.
“How was your day? What did you do?” Y/N wanted to know. She could just listen to his voice and touch herself and he wouldn’t know, gently caressing her breasts and hips and ass. Y/N was tough starved, hungry for it. Quite desperate too.
“Hm... well; I ate a good breakfast. Went to work, stayed a bit longer than normal. It was a fairly normal day, I suppose. Had some food and came home.” He was talking to a shirtless Y/N on the phone and he knew damn well there wasn’t anything innocent going on in her mind.
“Tell me why you feel so needy.” He questioned. “S’it something you feel often? Or is it a new thing?” Harry wanted to be the one she was needy for. It seemed like he was though; just by how often they communicated and how sweet she was to him. Both at classes and over the phone.
Y/N hummed at his answer, closing her eyes and fully letting herself sink into that deep throaty tone that he had. He sounded so damn sexy she felt like she could cum just listening to him talk about anything. “I’m glad you had a good day.” She cooed, letting out a sigh without realizing it.
“Yeah... pretty often..” Y/N spoke and then thought about how to word this properly. “You know how I said I had a really nice professor?... He reminds me of you...” She explained, hoping that it didn’t make him feel weird. He did say he liked it when she wore the school girl outfit the other day on live so maybe it was a kink of his too? “Then I just think about you and I get so wet and I don’t want to be a bother... but thinking about you always makes me feel so good and I wish you could be here helping me...” Y/N’s tone was breathy as she started to play with her clit.
“Oh, baby. I already know that you’ve been touching at yourself this whole time.” He smirked to himself, hand holding his length in his briefs. God, she was perfection. “Get wet thinking about getting fucked by a professor, hm? You’re quite the naughty girl. Know that you get extra slick in your videos whenever I say something like that.” Oh, he noticed. “Wear that tiny little skirt in the uniform, I love it. I very much wish I was there to help you. I know that your little clit is probably all swollen. Probably feels really good to touch, yeah?”
Y/N let out another audible whine, hearing him talk dirty the way he texted? It was a whole different level of arousal she couldn’t even begin to explain how her body felt. She wanted more, she needed more. “I’m sorry, daddy, I can’t help it... you just sounds so good, it makes my pussy ache... I want more! Please let me touch more, please!”
“Fuck me... it aches, does it princess? M’sorry I’m not there to fix it.” He cooed, cock jumping at the thought. He was fucking aroused, wanting her cunt so badly he could punch something. His briefs were thrown to the side, Harry spitting thickly into his palm before wrapping it around his cock, stroking slowly.
Of course if he was going to pull her kinks out she would use his against him. It would only make him get a bit more heated, make his voice that much darker and deeper. “It feels so nice to touch...” Y/N let out another whimper like moan. “Are you touching yourself too daddy? Did I get your cock swelling for me?”
“Mm. Course I am, you always get me hot. You’re just... so fucking dirty. But you keep it relatively tame on your lives.” He muttered. “Know there’s a dirtier girl. Filthy. The way you talk to just me... know it.” He bit down on his lip at her next phrase, hearing her impatience and need for his touch and cock. That’s what made him feel even better.
She felt her breathing pick up, deciding she wanted to get her vibrator out because she knew she could tease herself and make this last much longer than she could with just her fingers.
“All I want is to be stuffed full of your cock!”
“You’re so impatient, princess. Already touching all over your parts and begging for cock. Can’t help yourself.”
“Please daddy...” Y/N whimpered, bucking her hips up against her vibrator, having it set on the lowest setting but it was already doing a lot. “Want to feel you— fuck.. feel you stretch me out.” She was teasing her entrance, he had gifted her a dildo and sent it to her PO Box. It was the only one she used now.
“I want photos.” He snapped at her. “Sitting there wasting such a nice sight, not letting Daddy see? That isn’t what I want.” He could hear her. “Your little cunt is soaked and I can hear it. What are you using, hm? Your fingers? A nice toy? Let me see.” He was demanding photos and maybe that was out of line but he knew she liked being bossed around in bed and would love to please him.
Y/N swore he brought the filth out of her. She knew she could be dirtier than most on her streams but with him she turned into a proper animal. It was mostly because he called to everything she wanted when it came to a sexual partner, fulfilled her fantasies.
“Told you I was needy, Daddy!” Y/N whined, “want you to come here and fuck me, make me scream— Ah! Mmm, make me beg and cry for your to let me cum. Want you to force it out of me, over and over! Want you to use me..”
“So what you’re saying... you want to be daddy’s little fuckdoll?” He murmured darkly. “Want me to take what I want from you and make your pussy cum over and over until you’re a drooling mess?” He rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock. “Are you being a good little slut and taking photos for daddy? I want to see your pussy spread open.”
Y/N let out a whine, knowing that she would have to stop what she was doing just to take pictures and she was wondering if maybe turning on her camera would be better. She set up her phone, the way she usually did if she was doing these sessions to take photos and turned her video on so he could see.
“Look daddy..” Y/N whimpered, knowing she wouldn’t be able to see him but that was fine. As long as she could hear him, that’s all that matters. She sat back with her back against her pillows, spreading her legs and showing him what was going on.
His own private show. It was all for him after all. Y/N giggled a little bit when she heard his reaction, setting the dildo that he bought her in front of the camera before leaning down and starting to suck in it as if it were his cock, looking up at the camera.
“Fuck, baby. That’s my little slut.” He growled, watching her give him the best gift. She was shameless and he loved for it. The way she just simply gave him everything, spread legs and looking right at the cane for him... he was incredibly turned on.
“Suck that cock. S’what your mouth is made for, isn’t it? To suck your daddy off, make me cum in your slutty mouth.” He was so aroused, watching her take it deeper into her throat. It was torture that she wasn’t really sucking him. “Your little pussy aches so badly all the time, doesn’t it? S’cause you were meant to be stuff full of my cock all the damn time. Spread your legs a bit more for me, baby. That’s what I want.” He was stroking himself steadily, spitting on the hand every so often.
Y/N smiled when she pulled off of the cock, slapping it on her flat tongue a bit before pulling back and spreading her legs for him the way he had asked. Being a cam girl really came in handy, she really knew all the right angles and knew just what to say. She was horny too, hearing him praise and humiliate her all at once. It was the perfect mixture of what she loved.
“Daddy... did you buy me this cause it’s big like you?” She asked curiously, bringing the dildo up to her mouth once more so she could lick up the base of it. Y/N watched the camera curiously, knowing she wouldn’t see his face, but knowing he could get the pleasure in knowing she was looking right at him. Her hands moved to bring the dildo to her core again, starting to push it into her slowly but surely. Her head fell back as she moaned in excitement, “Wish it was you! Fuck! Daddy!” Y/N was a whining mess, grabbing at her breasts to ease some tension.
“Mm. I’m a little bigger than that.” He wasn’t lying either. But he was too focused on the view he had. “Fuck me, look at it stretch your open. Got such a tiny cunt, swollen and pink. You use it so much, get yourself to cum so many times. Have all those filthy fucking perverts watching your sweet little body. Wishing they could have a taste. Like a little tempting candy.” He watched her slide it in and out of her pussy.
“Push it all the way in. That’s it. All the way.” He instructed. Her mouth fell open as she struggled a little to take it but he watched it settle in all the way. “Press on your tummy. You feel that? Feel how full you are? S’what I could do for you. Make you even more full than that.” He admitted.
“Of course you wish it was me. You want a hand on your throat and fingers in your mouth. You want to be held down and used like the precious little cunt you are.”
Y/N was close to throwing a tantrum. She wanted it! She wanted him. Every little push of the dildo inside of her was sending her, the combination of his voice and just how deep it was inside her? Y/N swore she was ready to risk it all. If she didn’t know any better she would give him her address and tell him to come over now but she wasn’t that stupid. She didn’t really know him as much as she thought she might have.
“Daddy!” Y/N whimpered, taking a sharp harsh breath. “It’s so deep...” Her voice was quiet as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, thinking about the scenario he had just told her about. She shuddered in response, letting out another loud whine before starting to thrust it in and out of her at a rapid pace. “I want it to be you...” Y/N moaned out, “please— I want it to be you, please.” She was wondering where he was from in that moment, if it would be easy for him to get here. She couldn’t stop thinking about his body, now she had a voice to match it. Y/N just knew he had to be attractive.
“I love hearing you beg. You’re filthy. I love that shit, you know that princess? I love hearing you beg for my cock. I’m just watching you fuck yourself and thinking about it being me... you’re going crazy.” He chuckled. “Fuck, you’re so wet too. Christ sake, you messy bitch. Look at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. Look at the little puddle.” He grit his teeth.
“Want that on my sheets. If I was there I would shove that pretty face in that stain and fuck your cunt open. Keep it held down there. Maybe I’d make you lick it up too. Depends how mean m’feeling.” His pace of his hand quickened.
Y/N couldn’t believe the words that were coming from his mouth. She wanted it to be real, the whine that left her mouth was primal. She was so so close and his words only edged her on, Y/N couldn’t formulate words she was just babbling at this point and she didn’t care.
“Daddyiwan— oh mhm, fuck!” A high pitched squeal hit when she added the vibrator back into the mix. Within seconds she was properly dripping on the bed, her thighs and ass slick and glistening from the light she had in her room. It didn’t much longer for her to cum. Her body shaking at the release, she screamed out for him, resisting the urge to call him by Professor Styles’ name. All she could picture was his face on this man’s body. Y/N was shaking and squealing as she left the vibrator on her sensitive clit, visibly clenching around the fake cock that was inside of her.
“Please, please, please, please!” She was begging, but she wasn't sure what for. Her body felt hot, muscles tensing at the delicious feeling.
“Don’t move it, princess.” Harry hummed, “You can give me another won’t you?” He was close to his on release, prepared to milk his cock entirely for her. Every shaky breath and plead that came from her only pushed him closer and closer to the edge. “So good baby, give me another one, I know you want to…”
"Fuck!” Y/N squeaked, the sensitivity made her legs twitch. It hurt so good, the feeling was like a drug to her. Every pulse of the vibrator against her clit had her mewling, heat spreading throughout her body in waves, her breathing becoming heavy once again.
“That’s it… just like that, cream all over that cock like you would mine.” Harry spoke through his clenched teeth. She was utterly perfect, he couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. Y/N had been doing this all for him, of course she didn’t know it was him, but it was him none the less. The eyes they gave each other during class, the teasing during her streams, Harry wanted to feel her in the flesh. He imagined his hands all over her, coaxing more and more orgasms out of her with both his hands and the toys. For now this would do, watching her body begin to thrash due to the force behind the orgasm.
“You look beautiful…” Harry thought out loud, seconds before he himself felt his orgasm ripping through him. The sound of low groans and the slick of his hand against his cock filled the room, his eyes never leaving her body on the screen. So sweet and laid out for him on her bed, how he wished he could be there to lap up every bit of cum she had given him.
“Did so good for me, bunny.” He hummed, swallowing thickly as he started coming to his senses again. He cleared his throat and watched as she beamed, sitting up to grab the phone from its spot. How on earth was he ever going to let her go knowing she was so close to him?
“Go take a shower and rest up for me, yeah? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He spoke without a second thought about their class tomorrow. Surely, that wouldn’t be where her mind went.
But it did.
#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#professor!harry#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles blurbs#harry styles series#jarofstyles
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A/N: sorry about the delay. Todays been hectic. This is day one of promptober
Prompt: meet cute
Warnings: none
——
“Jesus- fuck!! Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Matty hissed, reflexively pulling his hand away, and dropping the remainder of the half empty coffee cup that had not spilled all over him in a splat against the pavement. He leaned against the car, his coffee-soaked gym clothes adhering to his skin.
“Good morning- umm, you need some help?”
He heard a bright voice from behind him and instantly make an effort to put on a smile before turning around. He’d assumed the young lady with the hefty-looking tote bag hanging off her shoulder was a fan. Probably coming over to ask for a quick selfie or an autograph before she’d caught him cursing under his breath. He never wanted his mood or mental state to ever taint a fans experience of him or rub off on anyone else. So, with open arms and deep breaths, he approached her, ready to put aside his troubles and be present in the moment.
“No, I’m just English, and…it’s October. Los Angeles weather makes no sense to me, and-“ when she looked puzzled, stepping away as he got closer, Matty realized she had no idea who he was. “Oh, god. Sorry. I’m a fuckin idiot, aren’t I?”
“I…don’t know you well enough to answer that.” She laughed. “But it does seem like you’re having a morning.”
“It’s just that I’ve rented this car. And it won’t turn on. And I went to pull out my phone, you know, to call the agency but- the coffee shop over there was out of lids, and-“ he gestured vaguely in the air.
She nodded along sympathetically. “Sounds awful; I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, I’ve got…hmm” she glance down at her phone, “fifty minutes. Okay that’s not bad. Let me help you out.”
“You don’t have to. It’s fine I’ll call someone and-“
“I’ve got somewhere you can get cleaned up and I know a guy who’s good with cars. C’mon.” She began walking up the street, taking for granted that Matty would follow her. So, he did.
***
“Let me- umm- help” Matty attempted to hold her tote bag for her as she wrangled her key into the door, but he was too late. She’d pried it open and walked inside.
“Welcome to my humble business.” She announced, feeling around the wall for the light switch. “We don’t behind open for another 45 minutes so please shut the door behind you.”
Matty made sure the “closed” sign was facing outwards before pushing the door shut.
“Alright, let’s see the damage that we’re working with here.” Her eyebrows raised, her head nodding towards his t shirt.
He pulled it over his head, slowly revealing his toned, tattooed torso. She couldn’t help but let her eyes linger for a moment, blushing involuntarily. He was beautiful.
“Thank you for this.” He muttered awkwardly.
“You bet.”
***
She’d finally emerged from the kitchen area of her bakery, smiling as she watched Matty pace around the room nervously. “You can sit down, you know.” She pointed towards one of the serving tables that still hand the chairs hanging upside-down from. “So, I have your t shirt soaking for a bit. I’ll dry it near the oven when it’s ready. But here you go. This is the car guy.”
“Thank you, really. You didn’t have to do all this.” Matty lowered a chair off the table, sinking into it and dialing the number she’d given him.
“Can I get you anything while you wait?”
Matty smiled, genuinely, for the first time this morning. “I could use some coffee actually. You know, one that isn’t being absorbed through the skin of my chest.”
She giggled. “How do you take your coffee? We’ve got fall flavors if you’d like a pumpkin spice.”
Matty rolled his eyes.
“Oh are you one of those men? You think pumpkin spice is girlie or gay or something? Lemme guess….you take your coffee black? Alright, grinch. One black coffee coming right up.”
By the time that she’d brought out his beverage, Matty had finished making his phone call.
“Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you- the grinch is for Christmas by the way. This is autumn.”
She giggled. “Whatever you say, grinch.”
“I never said I hate pumpkin spice.” Matty was on the defensive now. “I love it! It’s just- LA feels like summer. This…is not pumpkin spice weather. Feels wrong.”
“Okay so, you’re English. You hate LA. You…do jiujitsu- your stained shirt? It had the name of a martial arts academy printed on it - what else? You’re not actor are you?”
Matty sipped on his coffee. “Not an actor, no.”
“Thought so. You don’t look like one.”
Matty’s brows furrowed, he set down his coffee mug, resting his elbows on the table as he leaned in. “What’s that supposed to mean? Should I be offended?”
She chuckled, throwing her head back. “No. Trust me. You don’t wanna look like an actor in LA. They’re all over the place.”
“And you? Pumpkin spice is your full time job?” Matty winced at his own words. “Sorry that came out wrong. I’m a nice person, i promise. It’s the heat!”
She shook her head, smiling. “I’m really passionate about pumpkin spice.” She glanced down at her phone, then at the block-long line forming outside.
“Fuck! Oh shoot, shoot, shoot!!!” She jumped to her feet, rushing into the kitchen. “Unlock that door and let people in, would you?”
***
A shirtless Matty had found himself the host of LA’s finest caffeine- deprived bakery customers, eventually settling into his role by finding an apron to cover his nipples with, and working the cash register.
“Thank you for coming, enjoy that muffin, Pamela.” He smiled as the ancient lady with the cane eyed him from head to toes, winking at his biceps. “Watch your step now. Don’t want you falling. You’ve had enough knee surgeries for your age.”
He walked away from the counter once the first morning rush had died down, going into the kitchen. “I don’t think the scones are selling too well. Should I- I think we could start giving some away. With a purchase of large sized beverages.”
She stared at him, her mouth agape. It was difficult to focus on being dumbfounded by him when all she could think about is how beautiful his hair was, and how tightly that apron wrapped around him.
“I’m Matty, by the way.” He stuck his hand out for a handshake.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced- like, officially.”
***
“Here you go. T shirt is now coffee free. And wearable again.”
“Sick!”
To her great disappointment, he undid the apron, pulling it off his body and replacing it with his original t shirt.
“Thanks for helping out. I feel bad though. Cuz, like, you could’ve been out there. Dealing with your car situation.”
“Oh, my car was fixed hours ago.”
#promptober75#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fluff#matty healy fic#matty healy writing#matty healy one shot#matty healy oneshot#matty healy x reader#matty healy x you#matty healy x y/n
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“Psst. Shiro. Shiro. You awake? Shiro?”
If there is anyone, out there, who has just had their car stolen by a punk kid who reminds them to much of themselves, Shiro would like them to know:
Do not adopt the punk kid. The punk kid will grow into a punk young adult who does not know boundaries and loves to bother you in the dead of the fucking night, because heaven forbid he solve his own problems.
“Keith. I am going to kill you.”
“I have a question,” Keith insists, entirely unafraid of Shiro’s very real and very genuine threat.
Shiro groans loudly, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over his head. Maybe if he holds it steadily it will suffocate him to death. “Fuck off. Please.”
Ignoring him even further, Keith climbs over Shiro’s body, kneeing him in the spleen, like a cat perhaps, and settling down next to him. “I have a question,” he says again.
He has his stubborn voice on, because of fucking course he does. Shiro is not going to be successful in ignoring him.
He groans again, much louder this time, and drags himself out from under the blankets. He glares at his brother as nastily as he can, seriously considering beating him to death with his pillow. Keith must read the look in his eyes, because he scooches back slightly.
“Did I ever tell you that you’re a punk fucking kid?“
“More times than I can count physically,” Keith says pleasantly. “You may have called me that more than my name, actually. I have a lot of intense psychological trauma about it.”
Shiro laughs despite himself, breaking the unspoken game between them. The smile finally breaks free on Keith’s face, wide and boyish and frustrating.
Shiro has to give him a noogie. Like, contractually.
“Aw, Shiro, fuck off! You’re gonna mess up my hair!”
“Can’t mess up the already messy,” Shiro taunts, making sure to cause at least three tangles. Keith makes a freaky growling noise, like one of those little rat dogs that feels it has been wronged, and the next thing Shiro knows he’s being bitten.
“Jesus — ow, Keith! Unclamp! Bad feral desert child! I’m going to get the fucking spray bottle!” Shiro finally manages to wrestle his arm back, kicking Keith right off the bed and holding a pillow in front of him for protection. “Gollum ass bitch!”
“My precious,” Keith hisses in response, muffled from his place on the floor.
Both of them are silent for a moment, desperately trying to muffle their panting so the other doesn’t know how out of breath the wrestling made them.
God, Shiro wouldn’t give up his punk fucking kid for the world.
“Why did you wake me up, you brat?”
“The team is panicking and I’m not allowed to tell you about it,” Keith explains easily.
Shiro leans over the side of the bed, quirking an amused eyebrow. “So why are you telling me about it?”
Keith shrugs. “Because they’re being stupid! Don’t bother Shiro, Lance says. It’s supposed to be a surprise, Lance says.” Keith scoffs. “I don’t get it. We’re struggling, we need help. Who the fuck else would we ask?”
Shiro opens his mouth, then closes it again. His eyes well up.
“Oh, Shiro, don’t start,” Keith groans, smacking his palm to his forehead. “Dude, come on, it wasn’t that big of a deal —”
“I’m your backup plan,” Shiro wails, trying and failing to contain himself. He buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with the force of his cries.
“Aw, you big loser.” Keith crawls back up on the bed, throwing an arm around Shiro’s back and patting gently. He lets Shiro cry himself out for a few minutes, hand rubbing constant circles on Shiro’s back, and then he freezes.
Mischief is suddenly in the air.
“After all,” Keith says, and Shiro can hear the glee in his voice. “you’re six whole years old, today. Practically a grown-up!” His voice gets high-pitched, condescending. “Are we having some big boy feelings there, sport? Are we —”
“I am going to kill you now,” Shiro announces pleasantly, and it’s the only warning Keith gets before he’s tackled to the ground.
———
“I can’t believe you actually tried to kill me,” Keith pouts. He pokes at a bruise on his arm and then looks at Shiro, expression as pitiful as he can make it. “You’re abusive. A bully.”
“Mhm. Shut up.” Keith grumbles when Shiro throws his arm over his shoulders, guiding them down the hallways, but allows it. “You said you had a question, when you woke me up in the dead of the night like a particularly annoying mosquito.”
Keith brightens considerably. “Oh, yeah! Happy birthday. The team is trying to plan you a super secret birthday party, but you usually plan the team birthday parties, so it’s fallen into chaos. Lance keeps trying to climb the cabinets in the kitchen to hang things from the ceiling. When I left Hunk was threatening to shove him in the oven.”
Shiro can’t help his smile, big and wide and goofy. “Is Pidge panicking and reorganizing the kitchen based on a convoluted colour-coding system?”
“Yep.”
“Allura’s smuggling gigantic bottles of glitter into the room and trying to put it everywhere for ‘festive joy and sparkles’?”
“Mhm.”
“Coran is trying to stop her but keeps getting distracted and pulled onto the side of the glitter?”
“Absolutely. She bribed him with orange glitter and he dropped off the rational side immediately.”
“Excellent. Hopefully she’s managed to cover things in pink.”
“Oh, she brought in extra just for you.”
Shiro sniffles again. His arm tightens around his dorky brother, who rolls his eyes at the sound but doesn’t tease him again. “And Hunk? How many people have been smacked with the Spoon of Doom for trying to eat the cake?”
“…None.”
Keith’s shiftiness startles the tears right out of him, and he laughs loudly. “How many times have you been smacked, you sugar fiend?”
“He made you triple chocolate cake!” Keith defends. “I just wanted to quality check!”
“You should tell Hunk you want to ‘quality check’ his stuff. I’d really enjoy seeing him throw you bodily down the hallway.”
“Say, has anyone given you your birthday beats yet? You’re six years old, and there are six of us, so that means you get to get thirty-six —”
“Keith! Shiro!” They’re not even fully in view of the doorway when Lance calls out to them — those freaky bat ears of his, goddamn — and jumps off the counter, just barely managing to not trip and brain himself to death on the floor. He runs over to them, hugging them tightly and then dragging them towards the rest of the team.
“Interesting how you were the first one he called out to,” Shiro mutters, wiggling his eyebrows.
Keith scowls. His ears are red. “Shut up.”
“First one he hugged, too.”
“Choke.”
“Interesting, because it’s my birthday.”
“It’s going to be your last birthday if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
“Is he sparkling? He looks like he’s sparkling. Only when he looks at you, though.”
“Shiro, if you don’t fucking —”
“Everyone! The birthday boy is here!” Lance announces, saving Shiro’s life.
The team greets him enthusiastically, beams and hugs and kisses and, in Allura’s case, a baptism of pink glitter.
“Thank you,” Shiro tells her solemnly. “Both for the glitter shower and for not letting anyone tell you not to. Stick it to the man.”
Allura laughs brightly. “Of course not! The room needs to shine as brightly as you, Shiro darling!”
She sits Shiro down at his seat, everyone taking their seats around him. Hunk brings over the beautiful cake he made, deep and dark and chocolate and no doubt beyond delicious.
There are six and three quarter candles in it.
Shiro glances at his team flatly. “Really?”
“It’s the first of thirteen age related jokes,” Pidge says, grinning. “We each came up with one, and then Keith came up with seven more.”
“Shocking,” Shiro says drily. He shakes his head, unable to fight his smile. “All of you are ungrateful brat children. Even you, Coran.”
“I have forgotten more about being alive than you will ever know, child.”
“Is it because I’m only six?”
Coran claps his hands delightedly. “Yes! That is my joke! Did you like it?”
“I’m going to blow on my candles and wish you were all less annoying,” Shiro says.
He blows out his candles to the backdrop of his heckling team, squeezing his eyes shut. He keeps them closed for a moment, trying to think of something to wish for. He peeks one eye open, taking in his dorky team, wrestling and teasing each other. Pidge is looking dangerously close to grabbing a handful of cake with her bare hands and shoving it in Lance’s hair, because he’s poking her relentlessly over something ridiculous. Hunk is trying to pull him away, poorly concealing his own laughter. Allura and Coran are throwing handfuls of glitter in the air. Keith — that punk kid, Shiro’s best friend and better — has his chin in his hands, staring at Lance and pretending he isn’t.
Shiro smiles, soft and happy and satisfied.
He lets his wish evaporate into the atmosphere.
There’s nothing he wants that he doesn’t already have.
#happy birthday shiro!!#my love#vld#voltron#shiro#takashi shirogane#keith#keith kogane#broganes#pining keith#klance#team as family#big brother shiro#dorky shiro#fluff and humour#my writing#fic#longpost
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➵ NANAMI KENTO
summary : While one senpai brought out the worst in him, the other brought out things he had never felt before
tags : fluff, fem!reader, Nanami is a first-year while reader and the others are second-years, Nanami falling for you so hard it literally makes him har-
a/n : I might turn this into a little series hehe. just some awkward and pining nanami moments
PART 1 PART 2
Nanami had never been a person who was easy to read, and of course, he was aware that his rather stoic facial expressions and apathetic tendencies were probably the main reason for that.
No matter in what predicament he found himself, which curse he was facing, with what kind of bullshit his white haired senpai made him deal with - Nanami usually managed to keep his composure.
Usually.
How was it then that he could be swearing that he was having an out-of-body-experience right now? He could feel and see everything so clearly, all of his senses overstimulated due to one single being. You.
From the way how soft yet firm your thighs felt against the sides of his torso, to the saccharine smell of yours that he could easily take in as you pinned each of his hands beside his head.
Nanami knew one thing for sure. He was screwed.
"Are you sure you’re okay, Kento-kun?" your worry-laced voice soothed him, while his brain took a few seconds too long to process your earnest question. "Feels like you weren't even trying! Wait. You let Shoko have a look at your wounds yesterday, right? Because if you’ve just tried to fight me while being in pain, I swear-"
"I’m fine, senpai." the words coming out of his mouth sounded foreign, even his own voice did. But how could they not when your face was so close to his that he could easily count every single freckle on it, when he could observe how gently your lashes brushed over your skin with every single blink of your eyes. When your lips were so close to his that for a short moment he imagined what it would feel like-
"Yo, Y/n! Wanna switch partners?"
A way too obnoxious voice interrupted his not-so-decent thoughts, and that’s also when he felt the weight atop of him shift and you eventually got up.
Nevertheless, you took a last glance at him, the little crease between your brows a sign that you were scrutinizing his previous words.
"I’m fine, I promise." he sighed, this time managing to offer you a small reassuring smile that seemed to do its work with the way your face softened again.
"Oh, so you went easy on me?" you watched his lips mirror your own smirk as you slowly started retreating, Gojo’s voice getting louder and more annoying as he complained about how his muscles'd all be sore after today’s training.
"Satoru, with all due respect; what muscles are you talking about?“"
And as Nanami finally sat up, watching you and the white menace bicker, he wondered how and why the friendship between the both of you had even happened.
You. So gentle and caring, too good for your own good, with a sense of humor that was so awful that it even made you seem funny in some fucked up type of way.
Genuine and authentic would probably be the best words to describe you with, yet the word he would always associate you with every time you came to his mind was beautiful.
In every single way.
"You alright, Nanami?" Getou’s body casted a shadow over the blonde as he kindly offered him a hand and helped him up, dusting off the back of Nanami’s uniform.
They both watched you and Gojo get into fighting stance.
"Your senpai’s really something else, isn’t she?"
She surely is, he wanted to answer. But as he watched you swiftly move your body, rapidly dodging possible hits while determinately trying to fight back despite being fully aware that you actually had no chance against Gojo -
Nanami could only nod in agreement.
Getou’s firm hand on his shoulder gained his attention as he spoke to him in a rather self-sufficient tone.
"Shall we, partner?"
At least he was about to get beaten up by a worthy opponent, he thought.
"Uhm, Nanami? I think you should fix that first before we start." his senpai spoke, eyes awkwardly scanning their surroundings as if he was purposely avoiding eye-contact.
Nanami followed the ravenette’s pointed finger.
Fix that? What did he-
And as he lightly tilted his head down, heat already creeping into his cheeks, he only then noticed the little tent-like predicament his previous training session with you had put him in.
Oh, he was definitely screwed.
#nanami kento#kento nanami#jjk nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento fluff#nanami fluff#nanami jjk#nanami kento drabble
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NSFW Minors DNI
Part Three (Go catch up and come back)
ModernBilly x FemReader (AFAB Reader)
Summary: You and Billy have been sneaking around enjoying each other's company. It's all fun and games until your period is late.
Billy and reader are both 18, but they haven't graduated yet.
Warnings: Aggressive behavior, pregnancy scare, waking up to f!ngering, abort!on, sl*t-sham!ng. ANGST
You realize it one morning while brushing your teeth. Do I have enough pads for my next period? You though, then it dawned on you in horror; when is my next period? It should be any day now, right? You checked your planner. Your last period started over a month ago. You were a week behind. The rest of the morning was a jittery blur. Your room, your favorite sweater, your nail tearing a run in your favorite tights. All of it felt distant, unreal somehow. You felt like a clock was thrumming in your head, a countdown to disaster.
“You okay, baby?”
Your mom asked this on your way out of the door. Your bus would be by any minute and you'd been on autopilot. She sat at the dining room table with her coffee, looking over at you with a suspicious glint in her eye. Your stomach flipped.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just kinda tired.”
“Better sleep instead of texting that boy.”
You couldn’t find the words, plus you was flooded with panic.
“I can see the bus, gotta go. Love you.”
You rushed out before she could say another word and bolted down the street. What she didn’t know was that you hadn’t taken the bus in months. You walk right past the bus stop, down the block to the gas station where Billy had been picking you up for months. You have to steel yourself as you wait for him. Biting your lip and taking deep breaths.
You can’t tell him before you're sure. Your mom’s promise that he would abandon you if you got pregnant stuck in your head like an old song. Of course, you didn’t believe her…but what if she was right? Even if he didn’t totally abandon you, how would you manage to deal with it without your parents finding out? Maybe I could ask Nancy’s mom? A honk made you jump out of your skin and you turn to see Billy laughing hysterically from the driver’s seat.
“Hey scaredy cat.”
“Shut up.” you chide, though you're already grinning and on your way to the car. He can always make you feel better.
“Aw, don’t be a sour puss, little puss puss.” He called with puckered lips. As soon as you were within reach he pulled you over the center console and kissed you, causing a chain reaction of flutters which complied with the nerves you'd already been feeling. As a result you're overwhelmed and break from his lips too early.
“What’s wrong?” he asks gently. You know you only have one chance to smooth things over or else you’ll never hear the end of it. So, you smile and peck him on the lips.
“Just tired. That’s all.”
He looks into your eyes for a moment, those cool blue eyes as serious as ever. Then, he nods and drops the subject. He makes a joke about keeping you up too many nights but you don’t hear it over the furious drumming of your heart. You manage to put the issue aside on your way to school, and you think you’ve successfully made it through until you’re just about to part ways in the hall. After a final kiss, you turn to leave and feel him take your elbow in his hand.
You turn to him, genuinely unsuspecting.
“What’s going on?” he asks it quietly, and when you realize what he means your spirits plummet into your feet.
“It’s like I said, I’m just tired today. I’m fine.”
You try to smile again but he isn’t buying him.
“Baby,” he says with a serious look on his face, “you’re a bad liar.”
You drop your eyes to his chest, absentmindedly tracing a few fingers along the seam of his leather jacket.
“I-”
“Did your mom say something? Is it Nancy?”
You shake your head, putting your hand on his arm as the bell rings.
“I’m okay, Billy. Trust me?”
You leave him frowning, but hurry off to your first class.
. . .
Billy's POV
I haven’t been able to fucking think straight all morning, luckily the bullshit they teach in this school is preschool level so it takes none of my focus to ace the exam in my first period. What the fuck could she be hiding? What would she feel like she couldn’t tell me? Had her bitch of a mom finally convinced her to leave? In gym I take my frustration out on the weight bench. Some asshole tried to muscle me off it but it takes next to nothing to make him back down.
This school is full of clowns who worship the simplest displays of superiority. Which explains how Steve was the king at one point. Anyone with half a brain cell could lead these freaks. Of course, there are those who don’t care about that shit, the normal ones who can’t wait to get out just like me. Unlike me they can stomach this boring shit every day. I can’t. Without YN I would die in this place.
Is she mad at me about something? Has she talked to Nancy about it? I shower and head out early, she’d mentioned something about Nancy having Chemistry 3rd period and I take the back stairwell in hopes of beating her to Mr. Hopewell’s class.
I’m lucky, I get to the classroom just moments before Nancy does, she’s looking down at a book in her arms and I have to touch her arm to get her attention.
“Oh, hey.” she seemed surprised to see me, I gestured for her to come out into the stairwell with me.
“You talked to Yn yet today?”
“No, we have lunch together. Why?”
“Somethings up with her, she won’t tell me. I need you to find out for me.”
She shrugs.
“Maybe it’s really nothing.”
“Nancy, I know my girl. Just ask her about it?”
She considers it a moment.
“Alright, but I can’t promise I’ll tell you. If she’s really hiding it I’m in her side.”
I roll my eyes.
“Girls are all alike.”
. . .
Y/N's POV
By the time lunch comes around you're dying to talk to Nancy. Billy has been texting you non-stop and at this point you're dreading seeing him in 5th period. When he thinks you're keeping something from him he gets like a blood hound chasing a rabbit: he just won’t let it go. It’s so frustrating! In his mind there’s no such thing as an innocent secret between you, as if you can’t have any privacy as individuals or else it means you don’t really love each other.
At first you didn’t think much of it, but even the simplest thing you might not wanna share can ruin a whole conversation because he gets fixated on it. When you spot Nancy at your usual table, you're so relieved you could cry.
“Hey Nancy, I need to ask you about something.”
She gives you a knowing grin.
“Let me guess, it’s something you haven’t told Billy about, right?” Your smile falls and she chuckles at my expression. “He already tracked me down and asked me to find out for him.”
You shake my head, genuinely dumbfounded.
“This boy is relentless.”
“You got that right. He seems really worried. But listen, I told him I’m on your side. If you don’t want me to tell him whatever it is, I won’t. I swear.”
You're relieved to hear that, reassured that you chose the right person to be friends with.
“Thanks.”
“So? What’s so big you can’t tell your lover boy?”
Rather than risk anyone overhearing, you whisper it in her ear. Her eyes go wide and she whispers back, asking if you’ve taken a test yet and you whisper back that you only realized this morning. You ask if her mom can help get a test and she promises to ask her.
“But don’t mention my name, please? If my mom finds out….”
“Don’t worry, she won’t find out.”
. . .
He won’t stop, no matter how much you ask him to please drop it and that you’ll tell him later. He’s yelling and driving way too fast and playing his music way too loud. These are the moments you really hate Billy Hargrove.
“Wanna stop by the ice cream place, oh whoops, there it went. Gotta answer faster." He's yelling over the blaring guitar and chaotic drums, asking questions and then answering them in the same second just to annoy you, just to try and get an answer. "Oh there’s that cafe you like how’s about, awwww, too slow. You gotta speak up, baby.”
His tone is condescending as we speed through town. You sit with your arms crossed staring out the window, trying not to let it show that you're terrified. We reach a back road and he speeds up even more, going 15, 20 over the speed limit. He cranks up the music until it's painfully loud and leans his head out the window, hooting and hollering like he just won a million dollars or something.
“What’s wrong?! Not having fun?!”
He takes your chin and tries to make you look at him but you wrench away and look back towards the window, wiping at tears streaking down your cheeks. He does it again and it takes both hands to push him away. In response he pounds on the steering wheel and speeds up even more. By the time you get to the gas station you're so shell shocked all you can do is hop out of the car and start walking.
Almost immediately he’s there, grabbing your arm, getting in your face so that you have to turn away from him. He’s asking you again and again what’s going on. Is it your mom? Nancy? Did someone at school say something? Is there a teacher messing with you? Are you mad about something? On and on until you feel on the verge of panic. You hate him so much at this moment but all you can do is wipe at tears and try to catch your breath. Can't he see how this looks? People walking into the gas station turning to gawk at you? Finally, with your back against the car you blurt it out.
“I might be pregnant!”
Instantly he falls silent, leaving just the sound of your sniffling between you.
“I don’t know yet. Nancy’s gonna ask her mom about a test.”
You don’t wait for him to collect himself enough to answer. You break out of his grip and start walking home. He doesn’t come after you. You stop by a grocery store and duck into the bathroom, crying.
Billy has the ability to scare the shit out of you and he uses it to get his way at the slightest inconvenience. Why doesn’t it mean anything to him when you ask him to wait? When you tell him you're not ready to say something, why can’t he just leave it at that? How can he claim to love you and bully you into submission like that? It feels so unfair. Just now, in the car, you felt like your heart was going to explode and you couldn’t stop crying. How could he claim to care about you and make you feel like that just to get what he wanted? Didn’t it bother him to see you so upset? You spend half an hour in the bathroom while others come and go. Eventually you manage to stop crying and leave, your mom’s words are burning in your heart.
“You think that boy cares about you?” She’d asked at dinner one night shortly after they met him “Get pregnant and you’ll see. He looks at you like a piece of ass and you’re probably giving it to him free of charge. Do you even make him buy you dinner first?” she’d scoffed, shaking her head. “Little girl, you think he loves you so much, just go ahead and keep letting him use you like a damn toy and see if he sticks around to take care of you and the baby. I bet you anything he’ll be gone. Anything.”
You're shaking by the time you reach home, and rush upstairs to your room. You must've fallen right asleep, because you wake up with just enough time to do homework and go down for dinner. By then, you're numb. You just want your mom to be sweet to you. You wish you could tell her that you're scared and hurt and angry, but you can’t say a word. If you ever admitted that you and Billy had sex she would truly do everything in her power to keep you apart, even if it meant dropping you off and picking you up from school every day. Your life wouldn’t extend beyond school and your bedroom.
The next day is Saturday and Billy doesn’t text you all day. Maybe your mom is right. You tell her you feel sick and spend the day in bed. It’s true, after all. She checks on you, bringing you soup and touching your forehead. She’s so gentle with you when you're sick that you wish you got sick more often. When she’s not in your room you turn your music up and cry into your pillow. You hurt in so many different ways that it’s hard to feel anything other than this overwhelming sadness. You want to hear Billy’s voice, but the day passes and you don’t hear from him. Maybe it’s over. Maybe he never loved you. Saturday night you're lying on the couch watching a movie with your parents, it’s something old that the two of them say is a classic. Nancy texts you.
*Mom got a test. Come over tomorrow?*
*Yes, thank you so much, Nancy! I love you!*
*Love you, too. Hope Billy didn’t flip his shit the other day.*
*You have no idea*
You're embarrassed to show up to Nancy’s house the next day, afraid of her parents or her brother catching a glimpse of you needing a pregnancy test. Luckily, it’s just her at home when you arrive. You're so relieved you start to cry.
“Oh, yn, it’s okay.”
She pulls you into a hug and you go to her room. You tell her everything; from the car ride from hell with Billy to crying in the bathroom, and what your mom said.
“He hasn’t texted you at all?” She asks. Her eyes and her tone are gentle, she’s such a comforting person. You lean your head on her shoulder.
“Nothing.”
“Well, we should probably figure out if you’re even pregnant first.”
You laugh at that.
“Yeah, about that. Isn’t it too early?”
“You said it’s like a week late?”
“9 days now, yeah.”
“Should be fine.” She digs into her night stand and pulls out a brown paper bag. “There’s two in there, just to be sure. Plus some condoms.” You thank her again and hug her “Anytime. You owe me, though. I had to swear on my grandma’s grave that they weren’t for me.”
“You’re a good friend. I’m lucky.”
She smiles and then waves you off towards the bathroom. The instructions are a mile long and you're so nervous scanning through them. By the time it’s time to pee you realize you probably haven’t drank water since Thursday night. You come out and Nancy laughs when you say you're dry as a bone. The day ends up turning into a hangout as you go to the corner store together for lemonade and run into some girls from school. The three of them had just gotten out of church and were complaining about it, making fun of the pastor and talking about which choir boys they thought were cute.
It was a rare moment of connection that you cherished. You didn't have a lot of connections outside of Nancy. Billy's reputation kept you insulated as this untouchable being. New to the school yourself, no one knew what to make of you, and now, most people didn't try getting to know you. Some out of fear of Billy's jealousy, others because of their own. You got lucky with Nancy. She never let a rumor stand in her way.
When you were good and ready, you and Nancy said goodbye to the girls and headed back to her house, having to run laughing the final stretch because you could barely hold it by then. The stick was barely wet before she came barging in and you couldn’t stop laughing as you traded spots on the toilet.
Only a best friend could make such a terrifying day so much fun.
You sat the two tests next to each other on the bathroom counter and stood staring at them. Nancy leaned over your shoulder.
“Dare you to lick em.”
You push her away, laughing and she starts fiddling with her hair.
“What are you gonna do? I mean, if it’s positive?”
You shrug.
“I can’t keep it. I mean, I don’t want to be pregnant.”
“Were you guys…using anything?”
You shake your head, embarrassed.
“I don’t know why. We just…I don’t know, we were being stupid.”
What you couldn’t admit was that for a while, you’d felt untouchable. Sex was a magical thing and getting wrapped up in it was intoxicating. You’d felt so close to him, so able to make him happy, to be connected that way. Neither of you had ever mentioned using protection, it didn’t feel necessary, somehow. Nancy puts her hand on your shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she says softly, “Mistakes are what they are.”
You hugged her again. You separate when the timer goes off and for a moment you're too afraid to look away from her eyes. She gives you a reassuring smile and you take a deep breath, and look down.
. . .
“We’ll go to California after graduation. I’ve got a buddy in San Diego who owns a string of surf shops, he’d let me manage and maybe even own one. You can go to school out there, we can get a nanny during the day and then be together at night.”
It’s Sunday night and Billy finally asked you to come over. You went right from Nancy’s over to his place. His parents were out of town and Max was in her room. You’d barely gotten into his room when he started spilling this grand plan. His eyes were bright and wild, imagining this future for the two of you. Well, three.
You're too stunned at first to say anything. You watch him go on and on about the sunshine in Cali being good for a baby, and how his grandparents would be happy to babysit and his cousin had a big summer house on the shore you could stay in. Your heart feels so full it could burst watching him go on, so excited. Your eyes start to well up with tears. He sees you crying and puts his hands on your cheeks.
“Baby, what is it?”
You shake your head.
“I thought you’d be upset.”
He scoffs at you.
“You’re gonna be a great mom.”
He says it with so much love that it hurts.
“No, I’m not.”
“Baby-”
“I’m not pregnant.”
He’s silent, the light dimming in his eyes.
“I took two tests.”
He drops his hands away from your face and steps back, then sits on the bed. You go sit beside him, sensing so much sadness.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper to him.
He shakes his head.
“It’s alright, baby.”
You’re quiet for a long time, his eyes distant.
“We can still go to Cali together.”
He looks at you, seeming somewhat surprised to hear you say that.
“I mean, if you still want to.”
He palms your cheek and kisses you. He puts on music and you lay down together, his head resting on your chest. It's quiet for a long time as the music plays. You lay there with your fingers gently moving in his hair.
“I love you,” you whisper. “I was so nervous, ya know? I thought you’d hate it.”
“Scared the shit out of me when you told me. Then I started thinking about everything and it just started coming together. We could’ve really done it.” he pauses and you feel a little tremble in him, making your heart skip a beat, you hold him, gathering him into your arms as much as you can “You would’ve been a great mom and a fuckin milf, too.”
You laugh a little, but he keeps shivering and then he breaks. His breathing hitches and for the first time since you met him, he’s crying, wetting the front of your shirt. You kiss the top of his head and stroke his hair, holding him close through the tremors and the sobs. He gathers the side of your shirt in his fist as he cries, holding onto you as if he’ll blow away if he doesn’t.
You love him so much at this moment that you would do anything for him. Anything to comfort him. But, there’s nothing to do, so you let him cry. The music plays and he cries through the album, at least as long as you had in the bathroom. It’s strange that he’s mirroring that sadness now. You had no idea he would become attached to the idea of you mothering his child, but given what you know about his mom it makes sense. It makes your heart ache for him.
Your mom was wrong about him. Hell, even you were wrong to think he'd abandon you. Neither of you understand how much he really loves you. You laid there, quiet, the music and his crying the only sounds. You have a future with him, he loves you enough to want that with you. But, it’s better this way; to go to college and get jobs before you have kids…as a matter of fact, you'd never even decided that you wanted kids. You feel like you should tell him that had you been pregnant you wouldn’t have kept it, but now doesn’t feel like the time. It also isn’t the time to talk about how much he scared you the other day. His outbursts aren’t usually that bad, and most of the time he apologizes on his own, but you don’t think an apology will cut it this time.
How he reacted wasn’t fair at all. But this isn’t the time for that, either. You just let him cry for as long as he needs to. Eventually, you fall asleep. You're woken up by a tingle that rushes through your body, making you gasp. The lamp is still on but the music has stopped, heat and pleasure pushes a moan from your throat. His fingers are moving in you, his teeth bearing into your neck.
His mouth moves to yours, hungry and insistent. You're so wet and so close to cumming that you don’t have time to think before cresting helplessly into an orgasm. It’s such a rush and your head is empty as you moan his name, gripping his arm to stabilize yourself. It feels so good you can’t think of anything else but his skin against yours, his hand, the way he touches you. You rock your hips against his arm and he kisses you, his tongue brushing against yours.
His palm is on your cheek and you're kissing it as he moves his body between your legs, pushing his boxers down and letting his dick free. He’s stroking it and then slipping into you, all the while his lips are pressed against yours. He feels so good, and then you remember. You push away from him once and then again when he doesn’t move away. You struggle to sit up and finally he understands, backing away.
Breathing heavy he pulls out and asks what’s wrong, panting against your lips.
“I have something we can use.”
He looks at you strangely, then you dig into your backpack and fish out the condoms. When you hold it up he looks even more confused.
“Why the fuck would we use this?”
“Uh, because. Billy, I don’t wanna get pregnant.”
“You won’t.”
“We just-”
“But you weren’t. Right? I’ll pull out, baby it’s fine.”
He goes to climb on top of you but you inch back.
“I’m serious. We can’t risk it anymore.”
He sighs, sitting back on his haunches.
“Do you even know what you’re asking? Those make it so I can’t even feel anything.”
You don’t know what to say to that. You're conflicted because it feels bad to have to ask for this, but it feels worse to have to fight for it.
“Billy, I can’t risk it.”
He sighs again, shaking his head. Eventually, though he relents, asking you to suck his dick a little first. You do, and soon the little hiccup with the condom is forgotten. You hope it isn’t like this all the time. You had sex that night, though you could tell he had a harder time finishing than he usually does. He came, though, with you on top, grinding your hips into his while your own high had already left you lightheaded. You didn't talk any more about it that night.
You didn’t talk about the pregnancy scare until a party the next weekend.
To Be Continued...
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#stranger things#billy hargrove 18+#billy hargrove smut#fanfic#sea swallow me#story#billy hargrove imagine#billy stranger things#nancy wheeler
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flowershop!yoongi putting a little flower behind smitten!yn's ear and her not knowing how to act
➺ pairing; florist!yoongi x smitten!y/n
➺ genre; smitten!universe!! lil bit of fluff bc APPARENTLY the last smitten update was "genuinely devastating", "actually so depressing what the fuck was that cee", and "why would you do this to us" or something like that
➺ wordcount; 1.2k
»»————- 🌼 ————-««
“wow. not only are you a third wheel, you’ve officially become a fifth wheel. i’m impressed, i really am.”
you immediately look up from the petunias, your shoulders drooping when you see who it is
“…yoongi.”
you were hoping yoongi wasn’t working today because you knew he was going to make some comment about you being today’s fifth wheel but of course, because the universe is constantly shoving you down and kicking dirt in your face… here he is in all his glory
jungkook invited you to go for lunch with him and ji-eun and co. because… well, why wouldn’t he invite you? you’re his friend, of course you’re invited for a nice lunch and a stroll downtown
and the only reason why you guys (aka you, jungkook, ji-eun, jimin, and taehyung) are in the flower shop in the first place is because jungkook mentioned that he’d gotten ji-eun’s bouquet and teddy bear here and she wanted to take a look
the two of them are currently chatting it up with seokjin who very clearly is trying to get jungkook to buy a massive bouquet for ji-eun and you’re slightly concerned at how good of a salesman he is because now you’re wondering if you should get a bouquet for yourself.
as for the other two, jimin wanted to get some shots of his outfit in front of the flowers because admittedly the inside of the story is fairly vibey and taehyung’s helping him out with that
and you… didn’t know where else you could go, so you decided to walk to the far end of the store and pretend like you were really interested in the petunias
“what can i do to help you, buddy?” yoongi pouts mockingly, pushing his bottom lip out and making his eyes all big as he leans against the counter and folds his arms on top of it, “i can wrap the bouquet up for you so if you run in the rain again it’ll be waterproof.”
“okay, you- you really don’t have to rub it in my face like that,” you snap a little harsher than intended, but you really can’t help it because yoongi is genuinely being an asshole, “you’re just mad because you don’t have a friend who’d do something like that for you.”
“well, if i had a friend who did all of that for me and was pretty like you, i wouldn’t be friends with them anymore,” yoongi pauses, tilting his head slightly, “i’d make ‘em my girlfriend.”
“you-“ you feel your face flush at the out-of-nowhere compliment before scoffing, “okay, now i see why you guys have five stars for customer service! i see what you’re doing, using your skills to get me to buy something-“
“aw, c’mon, don’t get all shy on me now…” yoongi laughs, reaching over to hook a finger against the crack of your elbow and tugging you back slightly, “you weren’t shy when you were practically begging me to open the shop up for you past closing.”
“no, kook, you don’t need to get another bouquet for me, honestly…” you look over when you hear ji-eun laughing lightly, and almost immediately your mood dips when you see her loop her arm through his before leaning down to rest her head against his shoulder
you wince slightly when you feel that all too familiar pinch in your chest at the sight of how loved-up the two of them are but you straighten your posture when you notice jimin looking towards your direction
you still don’t know what his problem is with you… you’ve been quite civil with him so you really have no idea why he doesn’t seem to like you all that much
taehyung is definitely the friendlier one but you’re still intimidated to talk to him even though he initiates a lot of conversations with you
you just… don’t fit in with them, and you’re slightly concerned you’re losing jungkook to them-
“what’s your favourite colour?” yoongi asks all of a sudden, and you turn around to face him, grateful that he’s serving as a distraction from the searing pain in your chest-
“uh, good question!” you clear your throat, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth before shrugging, “like… like a burnt orange. a deep-toned orange? not, like, velma from scooby doo orange, a little darker than that-“
“okay, got it.” you jump when yoongi suddenly whips a pair of shears out from his back pocket, making a snipping motion at you before rounding the counter and walking over to the massive collection of petunias
“you don’t strike me as a deep orange girl, but let me see here…” he fingers through them gently, humming to himself as he cups a flower in his hand gently before snipping it off, being careful not to clip his fingers by accident, “we don’t have a burnt orange colour, but this one is like a yellowy-orange.” yoongi flips the shears in between his fingers smoothly before shoving it into his back pocket and turning to face you, “hope that’s alright.”
“i- i mean, it’s alright with me because i have no idea what you’re doing,” you snort, leaning back against the counter with one ankle crossed over the other, “i hope you’re not going to make me pay for that-“
“i won’t. this one’s on me.”
“what are you-!” you freeze when yoongi approaches you a lot closer than a salesclerk should, and almost immediately you feel your entire face light up when he smooths some of your hair back before tucking the petunia behind your ear, his tongue poking out in concentration as he adjusts it so that it won’t fall out
“hey, look at that.” yoongi smiles, crossing his arms over his chest as he nods contently, “cute.”
you smile meekly, unsure of what to respond with and unsure of why your stomach is doing teeny little somersaults
“thank you.” you clear your throat quietly, leaning back a little so you can check out your reflection in the mirror, “it’s- i like the colour, it’s a nice colour.”
“mm, i know. i’m the one that grew them.” yoongi clicks his tongue as he makes his way back behind the counter, “anyway, fifth wheel- if jin asks, you definitely paid for that and i’ve been mopping the floors diligently this whole time.”
(later, when jungkook asks you where you got that flower and he finds out that yoongi gave it to you, you don’t notice the way he narrows his eyes slightly and looks back at the store. why did yoongi give you a flower?)
#bff!kook#bff!kook drabbles#baby drabbles#yoongi drabbles#smitten!yoongi#yoongi fluff#yoongi fluff recs#yoongi fics#yoongi fic recs#yoongi one shot#yoongi one shots#yoongi one shot recs#yoongi headcanons#yoongi headcanon recs#min yoongi#yoongi x reader#reader insert#bts fluff#bts fics#bts fic recs
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(Junglecorpse, 1.4k ish. In my defense, and I know I say this a lot but it's actually true this time, I am very legitimately going through a lot right now, and I don't know if my therapist would approve of this method of self-soothing or no, BUT whatever, Junglecorpse is one of the few pairings that activates my "MUST HAVE FLUFF NOW" toggles when normally I avoid fluff like the plague. I wrote this snippet a few months back or so for Vamp via chat and expanded it today for Myself™️ so I'm posting it here so I can save it on the masterlist. You do not have to read this.)
“Do you think Tony’s gonna lose his mind and create a new pay-per-view every week?” Jack asks, while thumbing up through his Twitter feed somewhat absently. He’s only got his right hand, as Darby has stolen his left. Darby’s got one of his ink pens, the felt-tipped kind he uses to doodle sometimes, and the brush of the tip against the skin on the back of Jack’s hand is calming. Sometimes Jack ends up with skulls littering his knuckles, other times with swoops and flourishes; mostly, he just lets Darby do his thing. It’s familiar.
“Seems like a bad business model,” Darby replies. His head is bowed, chin turned down as he works. Last week, Jack went out to lunch with his sister with a stylized skateboard heading up against the bump in his wrist bone, and she’d laughed for about three minutes straight.
Jack snorts a little, still scrolling. Doom-scrolling, really, though he’ll never admit that to his therapist. “Yeah, people are gonna stop paying if all they ever see is Hanger and Swerve stapling each other’s chests every single month, over and over again.”
“You may be greatly underestimating the public interest in that.” Darby laughs.
“Oh.” Jack frowns at the back glow, squinting a little. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Man. Should I start up a homoerotic feud with somebody with the sole goal of getting some really violent death matches?”
“Please don’t let anyone else staple your chest,” Darby says, a bit muffled. The brush pen curls along Jack’s skin.
“Anyone else? Whoa, buddy, stapling me was not on the to-do list for this week.”
Darby snorts. “I like you in one piece, thanks. And I’m not a big fan of watching you bleed all over the mats.”
“Oh, sure, but I have to watch you toss yourself spine first off the posts every Wednesday,” Jack says. He taps the screen again with his thumb, pulling down. Something something official AEW twitter, five clips from the last show, and Stokely buying another celebrity Cameo to woo Kris Statlander. Actually, that one’s pretty funny. He got Barack Obama to do it. Jack didn’t even know Obama had a Cameo.
The brush tip swirls, then taps a few times. “Aw. You gettin’ anxious over me?”
“Well, if you die, who’s going to keep my feet warm at night?”
“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you: wear socks. Your feet are fucking freezing.”
Jack huffs out another laugh. The Obama cameo was hilarious. Stokely deserves managing her at this point. “I don’t need socks, I have your legs.”
“Dick,” Darby grumbles.
“But back to this pay-per-view thing. This is a lot of matches. Having even more on Sunday, every month, feels kind of overwhelming. Like, I need to have the roofing guy come look at my place? And I can’t schedule it because Tony keeps creating new shows.”
“Mm.” Another swoop of the brush, then some lines. Jack glides through an update from Prince Nana that reads truly bizarre, a reblog from Bowens that reads genuinely excited, and a post from Danhausen that’s mostly nonsense ending with ‘you’re cursed.’ “Maybe next week. Your shingles? Or the gutters? I don’t think I remember you talking about any other issues.”
“Just the shingles. After that last wind storm, I think a few came off, and now I’m worried the whole damn thing will come down around me one night.”
Darby huffs out a laugh, but the doodling ministrations on the back of Jack’s hand don’t pause. “I think you’d get a bit of a heads up before that happens.”
“Only if someone is physically there to yell ‘heads up’ at all times,” Jack jokes. Another tweet from the official AEW account, and then a reblog. Sammy posted. Ricky posted. Sammy tweeted at Ricky with a bunch of capslock, Ricky quote-retweeted with a gif of a dancing middle finger, and Jack skips all of that. Let them argue on main if they want to. Sammy’s just gonna try to fall on Ricky from the scaffolding again.
“I’ll do it.”
The drawing on the back of his hand stops. “Oh, yeah?” Jack smiles. “Are you volunteering to always…” He looks down at the doodles on his skin, and freezes.
Adorning his knuckles are a series of curves, vine-like, that curl up towards his ring finger where they create a solid horizontal line, and in the middle of his hand, somewhat shaky, given they were written upside down to be read from Jack’s direction, blocky letters spell WILL YOU MARRY ME.
Jack’s chest constricts. He can’t breathe. With his heart roaring against his ears, he whips his gaze up to stare at Darby, whose expression is maddeningly neutral. “Darby. What the fuck?”
“Okay, that’s… a response,” Darby says, with the tiniest of shrugs and a pinch to his lips. “Think it’s pretty clear.”
“Are you… are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Darby replies, mouth quirking up at the corners. “Yeah, I am.”
“You…” Jack’s tongue is ungainly, swollen. “Oh my god.”
“I’m not hearing an answer.”
“But… why would you…”
Darby drops his eyes, dragging his thumb over the topmost part of his impromptu design in a caress, and his smile never really diminishes. “Jack, what did you think this was? What did you think this was going to be? I don’t do things in halves, I told you that from the get-go. You know me. It’s you and me, and that’s what I want. Forever.”
“Are… are you sure?” Jack’s gonna choke on everything bubbling up from his chest.
Darby’s eyes slide back up. They reflect the lamplight, bright shiny starbursts. “Yeah, Jack, I’m really fucking sure. And if you don’t—”
“Yes.”
Darby pauses, tongue slipping out to press into the corner of his mouth. “Yes?”
“Yes.” Jack laughs, the sound bubbling up through his throat. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
“Holy shit.” Darby’s smile widens, impossibly stretched. “Holy shit. Really?”
Jack grabs for Darby’s face, clutching the sides of his head. He mashes their mouths together with way too much force, but he can’t stop it, because the rattling in his veins has started to sing. Then he pulls away. “You asked, you absolute loon, how did you not expect an answer? Yes, really. Really.”
And then he’s not really sure of much other than the fact that they’re both laughing, euphoric, and Jack doesn’t care about the roof anymore, or the idea of someone stapling his chest, because all that really pales in comparison to everything else, and he thinks ah, that’s exactly how it should be.
His brain starts to catch up with reality, sluggish. “Where are we gonna live? My place, or your place? This is opposite sides of the country, you know. Oh, wow. We’re gonna have to file taxes together.”
Darby laughs, features pulled incredulous. “What?”
“Should we hyphenate our last names?” Jack’s eyes track over Darby’s face: blue, blue, blue, his eyes are so blue. Should they have blue in their wedding? Should they have a wedding? “Should we hyphenate them in the ring? Wait, I have to go to the grocery store today, and I don’t want to wash this off my hand. Should I take a photo? Or wear a glove? Am I gonna look like Michael Jackson?”
“Jack,” Darby laughs again, high and bright. “Darling. Light of my life. You’re such a fucking idiot.”
“I’m seventeen steps ahead again, aren’t I.”
Darby grabs his face between his palms. “Yes. Yes, you are. Honestly, I don’t know where we’re gonna live. We’ll probably just keep both places. Yes, we’re gonna have to file taxes together. No, I don’t know if we’ll hyphenate our names; I really don’t give a shit. Yes, you can take a photo. No, you will never look like Michael Jackson.”
“You don’t have an opinion about our names?” Jack asks.
Darby hauls him closer, until their noses touch. He’s smiling, smiling, and Jack’s smiling, the expression too wide and aching on his face. “Jack, I don’t fucking care. I just want to be with you and your stupidly cold feet.”
“Does this proposal come with the condition that I have to buy some socks?”
“Don’t you even dare,” Darby replies, his thumb gliding along Jack’s cheek a little. “You’re gonna shove your feet between my legs in the middle of the night and jolt me awake like you always do, and I’m gonna fuckin’ love it, every damn time.”
“Oh my god, you’re such a sap,” Jack says.
“Get to used to that, ‘cause you’re gonna be legally stuck with me after this.”
“Awesome,” Jack breathes, and kisses him again.
#Junglecorpse#tag so you don't lose this shit#This is not worth reading lol#I just needed it here for me
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