#I know they’re way bigger than mine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

consuming-karma · 1 year

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THE LOST BOYS HAND HCS.

buwan’s notes: I’d like to thank @britany1997 for fueling my wild obsession with the lost boys and their hands, and also for agreeing with me that Paul’s the KING of fingering. Thanks. 🤭

episode summary: talking about the lost boys and their sexy hands. yes I’m crazy.

content warnings: hand kinks, some hcs are for fem/masc audiences (will specify so). , spit kink, different other kinks that will take forever to mention, NSFW, me honestly talking about how my favourite necklaces is Dwayne’s hands, yeah..

PAUL

starting off strong with Paul, Brit this one is for you mainly (and me, but I’m on the side).

I think paul has very veiny and bruised hands. I think that the blonde has the type to manage to get bruises or cuts unintentionally and never notice it!

his fingernails aren’t long, and his fingers are somewhat long and he has HUGE palms.

like marko, he has the tendency to chew on his nails, maybe even bite the skin around it.

Paul’s hands is also littered with rings, I can’t begin to explain to you how many rings he has in his own little corner of the cave, even the other guys come to borrow from him time to time!

If I didn’t know any better I would’ve definitely done the “your hands are way bigger than mine 🥺” technique at him, it’s funnier knowing that Paul’s probably the type to fall for it.

Paul also has a tendency to need to grab, he will hold onto anything. His preference is your chest though, he loves how they cup perfectly into his.

he’s very touchy-feely, he doesn’t seem to understand how good it feels to just have you in his hands or arms, whether that’s just you hooking your pinky around his or letting Paul place his hand on your inner thigh, he just loves it.

If I could say anything, I’d say Paul gets off more on touching you rather than you touching him.

maybe even gets higher than he does smoking weed.

He’s like one of those cats who paw at you whenever they’re comfortable. He grabs at thighs, at upper arms, at the tummy. He loves all of you and want all of you to fit in his hands.

Paul’s hands are somewhat rough, I see Paul to be the type to suck at hand care and only really uses hand sanitizer and maybe lotion. (For you know what ;) ).

Brit and I are firm believers that he is the KING of fingering/oral.

Paul thrives, survives on pleasing his mate/partner.

His hands can grip and squeeze and please.

I like to think that Paul loves the way your thighs pool from out his palms, and how it doesn’t fit in both of his hands.

For my feminine readers out there, Paul would love to graze the tips of his fingers on your stretch marks and whisper sweet little dirty nothings into your ears as his free hand just rubs you on your hip dips. :)

Masc readers, never forgetting about y’all, his thick hands definitely wrap perfectly around your cock, and he definitely looks up at you prettily with those baby blues. His painted nails and rings make beautiful accessories for your dick <3.

Paul unintentionally fingers you to the point of overstimulation though, he’s got the attention span of a puppy and will not notice, no matter how many times you cum onto his hands.

his hands look amazing covered in cum and saliva ;)

spit on his hands and tell him to fuck his fist, his only lube being your saliva..

“Paul!” You whined, grabbing at his hands as they gripped firmly at your thighs. His face sported a grin as your squirmed in his hold, a worried look on your face.

It’s been hours since his fingers worked their magic inside of your hole, he worked your walls until they couldn’t anymore and it seemed like Paul would never stop.

A surprised moan left your lips as Paul grazed over a sensitive spot, Paul seemed to feel like the devil in disguise as he no longer grazed your sweet spot, more so, started abusing it.

You couldn’t stop your thighs from shaking and kicking as the overstimulation Paul gave you shook you to your core. You can see the black and white spots appear in your vision as you feel yourself get closer and closer to another high.

It felt like forever before Paul finally plunged his fingers deep into your hole one last time, letting you ride his digits until you came down from his high, twitching from the overstimulation.

After a short while, Paul gently pulled his fingers away, a string of cum connecting his digits to your hole before Paul brought it up to his lips and gently sucked.

His free hand held your hips in place, as you hazily looked up at him with confusion and a red face.

“Has anybody told you how divine you taste, babe?”

(visuals) :

MARKO

Marko’s hands are less veined than the rest of the boys, turning when he was around eighteen had him keep the smooth skin of a baby.

The curly-head’s hands are definitely more daintier than the rest of the boys, most of them have rough maybe thick hands, but Marko’s are thin and has little veins.

Although Marko covers it up with his fingerless gloves, I’d like to think that his hands are very smooth to the touch, his handcare is 10/10.

like Paul, his nails aren’t super long, I’d say he likes to keep them a nice length, but bites them off on the way.

His thumb has a mark where he keeps biting it with his teeth, unlike the other boys who might have bruises or cuts, he has a noticeable bump on his thumb and a small mark on his nail.

type of guy to be short but his hands are still bigger than yours. He always talks about his hands fits yours so well and how he loves seeing the size difference of both your palms together.

type of guy to also tell you that your body fits perfectly into his hands, his hands mold perfectly with your hips and thighs.

most of the time Marko does dirty talk you, but you can never reply back because most of his dirty talk’s in Italian, and you’re busy trying to keep Marko’s wandering hands from going under your shirt and latching onto your chest.

If Paul’s the most touchy with his hands, Marko takes second place with how touchy he is.

Marko has the tendency to play with his hands when anxious or anticipating something. He rubs his hands or massages his palms, looking off to wherever he’s expecting something.

Marko’s fingers don’t stretch you as much as the rest of the boys do, although the boys might be a bit more chunkier, Marko’s hands are small enough that they stretch you out to where it doesn’t hurt.

Marko’s hand game is strong, Paul gets cramps, but Marko doesn’t, I mean, the boy paints, he’s probably got some cool ass tricks in his sleeves to keep him from losing energy during your bedroom deeds.

Marko likes to listen to your sounds and your body, whenever he’s fingering you, he doesn’t mind the squealing or the squelching, he knows he’s the one who made you sound like that, and if anything, he’s more proud of it.

if I were to rate his fingering skills? 7/10. He’s got some learning to do but most of the time he’ll probably have you screaming his name from his fingers.

Fem!readers, this man eats pussy like he’s starved! Not the point though, because his hands are where it’s at, he knows how to work you up, and loves to tease, the tips of his fingers padded perfectly on top of your clit and he loves to go fast. No mercy. So while he’s enjoying a nice meal, you’re enjoying yourself.

Masc!readers, exactly the same!! This guy sucks cock like an animal and honestly it would take everything to get this guy off your dick. Since Marko’s hands are daintier, his hands definitely look amazing wrapped around you.

Marko would never admit it but, he loves when you stain his fingerless gloves with your cum <3, he’s the real artsy type.

He probably fingers you in public as well, no care in the world.

his favourite past time is watching your hands wrap around his cock, while his hands are bound together to keep him from being impatient <3

tie his pretty hands up and gag him, he likes the challenge!

Marko held you by the hands, his palms pressing them firmly to your back, your stomach to the bed and your back facing him. the curly-headed boy had you pinned to your nest in the cave.

Marko’s growls sounded in your ear as you felt your stomach flutter at his sounds. You could see him from your peripheral vision, his curls falling in front of his eyes as he pinned you.

You could feel the pads of his fingers gently running across the small of your back, almost..appreciating it in a sense, his hands felt soft, yet firm.

Finally, his hands slipped down to your ass, squeezing it in his palms as you squirmed from his firm grip. A small mantra of Marko’s name left your lips, unable to look back to see your boyfriend’s face.

You could feel from the air that he was enjoying this, enjoying you.

Marko, with the strength, turned you around, you laid on your back, bare for his hands to just wander.

His hands travelled from your ass back to your hips, up your stomach, and ended right on your chest. If it wasn’t so lewd, you would’ve thought Marko was giving you a massage.

Marko’s touch teased you relentlessly, you just wanted to yell out for him to touch you, use you. You wanted it so desperately, and Marko knew.

He grinned at your display of biting your lips and the small twitches his touch gave you.

“See, baby? You fit perfectly in the palms of my hands.”

(visuals) :

DAVID

David’s hands are very thick, probably the most thickest out of the boys.

His hands are the best for holding, gripping.

David’s hands could probably cover your whole ass if I know anything.

David’s very careful about his handcare. I think that David has the softest hands out of the boys, he takes good care of them, especially if he wears gloves to cover them.

Though I also think he’s got some blisters, years of driving motorcycles do that to you.

He’s got pretty long fingernails, they’re long enough to have the annoyance of cleaning them every time something gets under his nails.

He brings a cuticle around, I just can’t lie. I think that he’s the type of guy to be like those girls who’s always filing their nails.

probably pinches the hardest as well, he likes to do it when you’re not paying attention and actually causes bruises 😭.

watching him work without his gloves is so attractive, his hands moving as he writes in a notebook or diary, or when he’s playing with a cigar, it’s very, very, attractive.

The pads of his fingers is very soft, not tough like Dwayne’s and Paul’s.

Barely any rings litters his hands and the ones he has are very basic, no intricate designs, most of his complicated rings actually tore through a set of his gloves and he never worn flashy rings ever since.

Leather is his best friend, whether that’d be gloves or the handles of his motorcycle, or in this case, a leash to your collar.

He’s very into oral fixation, he loves shoving his fingers down your throat, likes the ability of being able to choke you out without pulling out his cock to do so.

He’ll also make you suck his digits clean after a long night of teasingly fingering you.

He loves seeing his hands around your throat too, he’s a sadistic little shit, if he doesn’t get off, you don’t either.

I think he’s got the thickest fingers out of the boys, he’s the one who stretches you out the most and sometimes it feels good, but it’s when he teased, that’s when you don’t like it.

Fingering skills are, annoyingly, at a 9/10. It would’ve been a ten if he didn’t tease.

Would NEVER ever paint his nails, like the boys always seem to have black nail polish and Marko’s and Paul’s are always chipped, but David’s is clean, polished, in good health.

His hands wrapped around your waist and dipping into your waistband, the tips of his fingers on the hand of your underwear.

Pulls you to him by hooking his pointer finger into your belt loops and into his chest.

Let him choke you out!!! He’ll be gentle!! Only because you’re human though.

Thumb on your lips always!! His thumbs make good work of finishing you!!!

A small shush left the platinum blonde as you tried to stop your whines, you moved uncomfortably on his motorbike’s seat, the leather being soaked in your wetness.

“careful, dear, you’re making a mess.” David mused, his lips shaped in a taunting smirk as his hands dipped deeper into your core.

You bit your lip to hold in your squeals, teased and tired. David could watch your expressions for the rest of his life.

he’ll never get tired of the way you cling onto his coat, your fingernails digging into its seams, as if any longer you’d have ripped his coat apart from the overwhelming feeling of his fingers pleasing you.

You tried to stay silent, feeling people’s gazes on you as you sat uncomfortable on David’s lap, his coat covered the indecent display of his digits inches deep inside you.

You were desperate for release, searching for your other three boyfriend to earn some mercy from David.

Your eyes looked around the boardwalk, eyes flicking from every similar person who looked similar to your boys.

Suddenly a chuckle and loud voices were heard, you saw your boys from afar. Hopeful, you decided to move off of David’s fingers when his free hand reached up to stop you by the throat.

A light squeeze to your throat, making you gulp and your core pulse with need.

“Eyes on me, dear. Don’t look at anybody else, especially when I’m this deep inside of you.”

(visuals) :

DWAYNE

THE BIGGEST OF THE BOYS!

DEFINITELY has the most veins out of the boys.

Can’t lie, Brit has listened to me want to lick his veins.

He’s got the lengthiest fingers out of them too. He’s the best when it comes to fingering.

His fingernails are nicely trimmed, it’s also littered with rings, his left hand is always bare though since he uses that hand primarily to hold laddie’s and he’s scared that Laddie might get cut from his rings.

Dwayne somewhat cares about his hands, he uses David’s shit though, lotion, Vaseline, serum, cream.

David doesn’t know how he runs out of hand cream so fast too.

Dwayne does carry his own hand sanitizer, but most of it goes to laddie and Paul.

Dwayne doesn’t have really flashy rings either, he doesn’t like the way it clicks together and it puts him in a very uncomfortable situation because he likes to massage his hands when awkward.

He’s big everywhere, his height, his heart, his cock, his hands. It’s crazy.

Prob can carry you in one hand, one arm under your ass and your arms around his neck.

Although he likes fingering, he prefers playing with your clit/cock even more, he’s surprisingly has the best stamina over all the guys but he likes to keep it secret.

A good surprise, I’d say.

I see him as the type to be more sensual than sexual. His hands are best at love-making than rough fucking.

besides Marko, he’s one of the best massuage therapists out there.

His hands somehow find every tense crack in your bones and somehow is able to perform chiropractic procedures like aligning your neck properly or fixing a locked jaw.

He owns a ton of essential oils, his hands always seem to smell of lavender or peppermint, and sometimes he does use it on you.

The boys have learnt that if you both smell like the same thing then you both most likely fucked teehee.

Dwayne’s hands are best for pulling hair!!!

Watch him tangle his digits into your hair and pull gently, maybe whenever you’re sucking him off, or when he needs a little handlebar during sex.

he likes to cover your mouth with his huge hands whenever you’re having a quickie in public, he loves the idea of keeping you quiet with just his hands over your mouth as he dicks you down in a shady alleyway.

He also looks amazing covering his lips with his hands, his veins are more prominent and they run down all the way to his upper arm.

I wouldn’t blame you if you told me you wanted to follow that long vein to the end ;)

his hands definitely flex and his veins show while he grips your headboard to death.

Dwayne’s actor, Billy rips panties with one hand, it’s no surprise Dwayne wouldn’t either.

And god he looks amazing doing so..

Hold his hands while you ride him, he wants to see you be so dependent on him and his hands, he’ll make you feel good, don’t worry! Just relax and let him do the work.

Leaves hand prints all over your body from how strong he grips!

In the end, let Dwayne wash your hair for you! He gives a good massage and he’ll leave you feeling relaxed then ever.

“Yeah…there..” you sighed in content, your stomach to your bed as a deep rumble of a chuckle was heard. “Feel good, sweetheart?” You nodded hazily, your hands gripping onto the sheets with pleasure.

“God Dwayne..when were you going to tell me you were this good?..” you groaned, feeling his huge hands run themselves down your back almost passionately. You could feel his fingers gently scan your back for any tense spots to fix.

A hearty chuckle was only heard from your boyfriend as he gently pushed his thumb into a tense spot in your back, a small crack leaving it as you let out a surprise yelp, before relaxing once again.

“Fuck..” you cursed out, feeling Dwayne’s hands reach up onto your shoulder and dig themselves into your shoulder blade. A whine left your lips as another pop was heard from your body.

You’ve never been so relaxed and turned on at this point, Dwayne feels amused by your reactions, sighing and whining in content and relaxation. He lives for the pleasure he gives you.

His hands massaged one of his favourite scented oils into your skin, hydrating it, and making you smell absolutely delicious to him, he couldn’t help but place a few kisses at the back of your neck as you felt like falling asleep under Dwayne’s touch.

After a while of a slow, long, amazing massage from Dwayne, the dark-haired man deemed you relaxed enough before he gently pulled you by the thighs, resting in between them as you yelped in surprise.

“Think you’re finished? Daddy needs his release too.”

(visuals) :

#✦ buwan consumes.#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #tlb #poly lost boys #poly lost boys x reader #tlb paul #paul tlb #✦ dwayne’s karma.#dwayne tlb #marko tlb #david tlb #✦ marko’s karma.#✦ paul’s karma.#✦ david’s karma.

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sanjisblackasswife · 1 year

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Could you please write how the monster trio would react if they swap bodies with their s/o?

Monster Trio Swaps Bodies With You (NSFW-ISH)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Mentions of smut, Also crack, Luffy and Sanji are a bit OOC

Luffy

“Y/N LOOK! IF I HAD MY POWERS I’D DO GUM GUM PISTOL WITH YOUR—“

“PUT A SHIRT ON LUFFY!”

He couldn’t care less about being it in your body, he treats it the exact same way as he does his body so please WATCH HIM

“How do i pee. Y/N. Y/N I have to pee how do I pee—“

“Sit down.”

“No I don’t have to take a dump I have to pee—“

“GIRLS SIT DOWN WHEN THEY PEE—“

He is laughing at it at first, but he doesn’t care too much

Up until he realizes he doesn’t have his powers anymore

He spends all day trying to teach you how to use his stretchy powers especially since you kept accidentally doing it to your arms

“You’re so bad at controlling it. Don’t worry i was that way at first too.”

“SHUT UP AND FIX MY ARMS!”

It’s fun to see him struggle with managing your breast whether they are big or small though.

He’d get so frustrated on how to properly lay down he starts to whine

(a bit NSFW) While in your body, he got aroused and didn’t understand how the hell he got so wet, you explained it to him awkwardly and when you gave him permission to “relieve” himself he demanded that you watch him.

Play with himself

In your body.

It was a pretty fun thing to watch, because he knew the exact struggle of why you always ask him to use his fingers instead of yours.

“How the hell do you masturbate with these short fingers? I see why you always ask me.”

Zoro

Freaking out because he woke up to himself.

“WHO ARE YOU!?”

“I AM YOU!”

“YOU ARE NOT WHO ARE YOU?!”

“YOU DUMBASS WE SWITCHED BODIES I AM YOU AND YOU ARE ME!”

“WHO THE HELL IS ‘ME’”

So after an hour of unnecessary screaming Zoro is pissy all damn day about the situation, especially since he can’t train nor fight like he usually does

“You are weak as all hell, Y/N. I can’t even hold my swords in your body.”

“Oh shut up you ass. AND DO NOT PUT YOUR SWORDS IN MY MOUTH THAT THING IS HEAVY!”

“Oh but you can hold it just fine when I put it in your mouth as I fuc—“

“SHUT UP!”

He actually gets upset about your breast.

“…seriously.”

“What? They’re heavy.”

“YOURS ARE BIGGER THAN MINE?!”

You on the other hand—

“Where are you going?”

“I wanna…I wanna ….play with it.”

“….with what.”

“Your dick.”

“…”

“..”

“….please:”

“No.”

“PLEASE ZORO THIS IS A ONCE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY.”

You do but it’s not something he necessarily was happy about.

Sanji

(If you watched Punk Hazard then you already know how he’s ganna act.)

…..

You woke up and he was gone.

In the bathroom.

Taking pictures.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

“BABY PLEASE—“

He was such a giggly mess all day.

His hand was constantly in your shirt, squeezing your breast. He tried not to smoke but you allowed him to so he switched between lolipops and his cigarettes to make sure he doesn’t harm your pretty lungs.

Sanji is so happy to be in your body he spent about 45 minutes trying on outfits to wear

and yes

he picked the tiniest

skimpiest

outfit

You had to actually watch him get dressed. Not because you didn’t trust him but he just wouldn’t hurry up. He kept standing in front of the mirror in y’all room ….naked. Just staring.

“Can you….”

“Your body is so beautiful Y/N…!!”

He was literally living his dream.

Even though he was a pervert for most of it he did take care of your body. He made sure not to bruise it when fighting, he kept you hydrated, and even made sure you kept up with your hair and skin routine.

You however kept looking at yourself in Sanji’s body and got semi-hard.

It felt…weird?

“Sanji…”

“Yes, my love?”

He turns to see you in his body, pointing at his dick and if you had any color on your face it was now gone due to embarrassment.

Sanji suggested something

“….How about…we..y’know…”

“…with our bodies switched?”

Sanji nods, and it seemed weird but the thought of feeling a male orgasm interested you

So you agree

Long story short you both do it and from that point on Sanji has a new appreciation for a woman’s body and now he tries EXTRA harder to make you orgasm more AND faster

Win/win?

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torturedtraveler · 15 days

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pocahontas: the princess at the bottom of the hierarchy

(see disclaimer at bottom of post)

what better way to spend a 3 hour plane ride than to write a tumblr post about the most underrated disney princess of all time - pocahontas

at the time of release, it received immense backlash for creating a love story between a native american and a colonizer. however, my blog post is solely looking at it through a fictional lens.

their love story properly began with the song “colors of the wind”

“you think you own whatever land you land on, the earth is just a dead thing you can claim, but i know every rock and tree and creature, has a life, had a spirit, has a name”

“you think the only people who are people, are the people who look at think like you”

“come run the hidden pine trails of the forest, come taste the sunsweet berries of the earth, come roll in all the riches all around you. and for once, never wonder what they’re worth”

those are my favorite lyrics from the popular song since it captured the essence of pocahontas and john’s differences. pocahontas is essentially teaching him her way of living, showing him a new side of the world, and as the song progresses, their bond grows stronger. disney used the duration of a single song to showcase them bonding, having fun together, and allowing john smith to realize that life isn't about conquering lands, it's about understanding the land around you.

there are not many similarities between them, they grew up, lived, ate, drank, and spoke completely differently. but there is one thing they have in common - their loyalty, their love for their people, and the extent they would go to protect the ones they love.

considering their background, their differences in living, how they both have different missions in life and more important things they need to hold onto (see previous post) they knew for a fact, from the start, that they would never end up together. and let’s face it, there’s no rooting for it, love doesn’t stand against everything. because as i’ve said, there are bigger things in life that one needs to hold onto.

and they did just that, holding what they love dear.

Disclaimer:

I acknowledge history and the trauma, the damage, the hurt that indigenous people or anyone in history who has been mistreated, abused, or slaughtered has been through, and my blog is in no way trying to glorify history, change history, or reverse the damage they have been through. My blog is looking at stories solely through the lens of fiction. I am not trying to speak on behalf of anyone who created the stories but myself, who is only here appreciating fictional characters and stories.

however, i will not be replying to anyone who expresses anything regarding my posts. any reblogs with a reply i will ignore, criticism or not.

i am also here as a fellow blogger to encourage you to keep posting your opinions, on your blogs or reply to mine. that’s an important thing about tumblr, our opinions are what keeps this platform going.

thank you for your time and i hope you have a great rest of your day.

#disney #disney movies #disney princess #disney classics #walt disney #pocahontas #movie review #thoughts

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 5 months

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visiting König's humble abode

(MDNI, cw: talking about not wanting to have children)

the part before: sending him a naughty pic (nsfw)

The whole day long, there is this certain pep in my step. The knowledge that I did something a little dirty… the pics we sent back and forth… and the promise that I’m gonna see him again in just a few hours has me on cloud nine. My cheeriness caught on and one of my colleagues even asked me what had gotten into me, and I just shrugged it off, still not able to hide the grin that’s adorning my face.

When I get home from work, I pack a small bag of the bare minimum I need, in case this is a sleepover kind of situation – which I am kind of hoping for, not gonna lie, then I wait for him on the curb in front of the apartment complex again. Just like yesterday.

His car drives down the street and just seeing it, makes me grin from ear to ear again. It feels familiar by now, waiting for him to pick me up – even though this is just the third time. Today is a little bit different from yesterday. I don’t feel any of the tensity when he stops the car right in front of me. He looks like a dream, in the simple black shirt, that hugs his tattooed biceps just right, unintentionally showing them off when his arm reaches back behind the passenger seat, as he waits for me to enter.

A light blush creeps up my cheeks, when my mind comes back to what we did in the backseat. And then I also think about our long… conversation this morning. The pics of him. The…

My thoughts get pulled away when his face lights up in a smile, the seriousness vanishing as the corners of his mouth turn up. His brows not quite so furrowed anymore. The laughlines around his eyes highlighting the spark in them. Which makes the big scary looking guy not look scary at all. I realise that I’m mirroring his joyful expression – and yeah, the sex has been really fucking great so far, but more than that: I’m just happy to see him again.

I get in the car, greeting him with a simple “Hi”, leaning forward to give him a kiss while I drop my bag on the floor between my feet. He grabs me, his hand spanning across my throat, his thumb and pointer gently digging into my jaw. He pulls me into him, pressing his lips to mine, hot and heavy, his tongue stroking against mine, tasting me. His hold on me is still soft, but the way he just grabbed me… A hint of possessive. Needy. Almost desperate. And I answer his kiss with the same frenzy.

When he lets go of me, I’m panting and a little dizzy, it honestly could have been minutes or just seconds. I don’t think anybody ever kissed me like this. And I want him to do it all again. Preferably while he’s buried deep inside me.

“Hi.”, he says back, the corner of his mouth tipping up into a smirk. The hazy feeling dissipates and I recognize the band that’s playing on the car’s speakers.

“Oh, you finally listened to Sleep Token!”, I exclaim. It is one of the bands I told him to listen to because they have been consistently on the top of my list this last year.

“I did.”, he says, while he pulls out of the driveway.

“And how do you like them?”, I ask, a bit nosy.

He shrugs. “They’re nice and chill, I guess.” He smiles at me, a little sparkle of amusement in the corner of his eyes. “Although I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that you like ‘em so much, they’re much ‘softer’ than the stuff you usually listen to.” which has me giggling a little bit.

“That might be true.”, I chuckle. “I can’t explain it either, but the lyrics and everything just has me in a chokehold.”

The last beats of ‘Vore’ fade out and ‘Sugar’ starts playing, the sultry voice and the soft sounds filling the car and I grin to myself.

“You know what they jokingly call that genre?”, I ask him.

He shakes his head. “No, I don't.”

“Baby making metal.” The grin that adorns my cheeks is almost bigger than my face.

He shoots me a look, half amusement, half serious contemplation. “But what if you’re not making babies?”, he finally asks.

I furrow my brows, but my grin stays on, albeit not being as wide anymore. “Well, it’s supposed to be a joke, like tongue-in-cheek, you know because the music is all sensual and sexy. Like not actually making babies, you know, I wouldn’t even want t-”, I break off, biting my tongue.

Silence engulfs us for just a moment, a moment where we both seem to contemplate what to say now.

“I actually got a prescription for taking the pill.”, I tell him then. Called my gynecologist during lunchbreak and picked them up on my way home.

He whips his head in my direction, to look at me. “Why- but- I'm not gonna be on leave for that much longer, we-”, he stumbles through three possible answers at the same time.

“Don't worry about it, it was my decision.”, I explain, a lopsided grin on my face, because I maybe could have brought it up another way.

His eyes dart to me for another quick look. “I see. What made you uh- decide that?”, he wants to know, friendly curiosity in his voice.

“If something happens, like the condom breaks – which is a possibility –, we still have a failsafe. All the fun of ‘making babies’ without making actual babies.”, I joke, feeling a bit uneasy underneath the grin on my face, because talking about babies with the guy you just started sleeping with is… well, let’s just say, there are more comfortable subjects. But when my eyes are drawn to him again, seeing how relaxed he seems now, it puts me at ease as well.

He smiles at me again. “I can understand that.”, he says.

Another silence, the music still softly playing. The silences with him are not uncomfortable, I mean, they never have been so far, and there were quite some when we went to the concert in the beginning of the week. The moments when I thought I had already talked to much, even if he was content just listening to me, because he’s not a big talker.

So, I’m a bit surprised when he starts to speak again first.

“So… and you don’t have to answer, of course, if that’s too personal of a question. You don't want any children … ever?”, he asks, his soft voice bringing a lightness to the question.

“I don’t really want any ever, yeah.”, I answer assertively, shrugging at the same time. “Not in this life.”

I look to the side, at him. Thinking that he might say something along those lines of 'oh, you're gonna change your mind when you're older'. The same shit I always hear. ‘You’re still young, just wait a few years.’

But he doesn't. "I see.", is all he comments.

I’m still looking at him, not able to hide my surprise, but I don’t actually say anything.

"What? You're not gonna have me argue against that.", he mutters, and I can feel the moment of hesitation before he continues speaking: "I don't feel like my job is really compatible with a partner and family." and sighs and shrugs. "So, I came to terms with never having one quite some time ago." He turns to look at me. "I understand, as somebody who had a hard time explaining that to his own family, and I'm just a man."

I sigh as well. “Yeah, but it is what it is. It’s not their life after all.”

He smiles at me, the smile only barely reaching his eyes, something I’ve never seen from him before. “That’s right.”

I clasp my hand over his that’s holding the gearshift, caressing it for a bit. He lifts it and squeezes my fingers softly, a little reassuring gesture.

“We’re almost there.”, he says, smiling a little more relaxed again.

I knew he couldn't live too far away from me because he never takes long to get to my apartment. I’ve been watching the way he drove us, surprised when he took a few turns that lead to the outskirts of the city. And when he tells me that we’re there soon, I look out the window more intently, almost pressing my face up against the cool glass to see better, missing some light because of the darkening sky.

Little patches of forest, few fields in between, and a single road that passes his house. No neighbors in sight.

My jaw drops when I see it. It's not a big house by any means, but it has a facade that seems to be from the last century at least. Simple frescoes adorn the top of every single window, up until the round one right under the dark tiled roof. Ivy ranks up the whole right side of the grey painted walls.

I don't know what I expected. Same like with his car. Seeing the house now makes so much sense, but if you had asked me before, I probably would have guessed he had a modern, but simple three-room-apartment. Not a house with a white-picket-fence and a little garden, leading further into a small patch of green woodland.

He opens up the garage door with the push of a button and parks the car in there. I get out, not waiting for him to open the door for me, looking around all nosy. The garage has a little workshop and some gardening tools. Another set of tires for his car. And something else hidden away under some tarp. Wheels peaking out at the bottom that kind of look like they belong to … a bike?

I hear the cardoor shut and his steps when he approaches me. "That is the door that leads inside.", he tells me, gesturing in the direction. A grin adorns his face. "If you wanna take a look." And he knows my nosy ass enough to know, that I sure as shit want to.

I nod – more excited than I should be – and push through it, entering the main part of the house. I kick off my shoes, leaving them right there, beside the entrance door.

The corridor is plain white, a singular lamp lighting it up, a simple sidetable on the right side, a wall mounted rack with his jackets, although it’s half empty, and a rack for the shoes underneath.

I run by a kitchen, with white cabinets and grey marble worktops. A cooking island in the middle of the room. A big ass fridge, even though he lives alone. I guess it takes a lot of food to keep his physique up.

I head a little further down the hallway, until I reach the centerpiece of the house.

The living room surprisingly bright for all the dark furniture that’s placed inside. Curtains hang in front of the huge windows, pulled to the side, letting in lots of light and showing off the little garden outside. A door leads out to the patio.

A big black couch, with soft looking cushions. A simple end table and a lamp beside it.

A tiled fireplace on the one wall, stairs leading both upstairs and downstairs in the corner of the room.

But there is one thing that pulls my attention.

I’m completely mesmerized by the wall of books in front of me, spanning from one side to the other. I look at the whole shelf, every single row of books. In between, there is some open space with a TV hanging from the wall and quite a huge soundsystem on the wooden furniture. On the lower shelfs beneath, there is a plethora of vinyls, some seeming pretty old, others are obviously newer, and also CDs like the ones in his car.

I go back over the books, my fingers brushing over their backs as I read the titles and authors. Lots of classic horror and thrillers like ‘The Shining’, books in German that I can’t pronounce, even though I recognise the name Goethe, but also Sunzi’s ‘The Art of War’. Some books on philosophy and technical handbooks. But most of it is entertainment literature.

“I read a lot when I’m on leave.”, he explains, which makes me look back at him. He’s leaning in the door frame, a door frame he doesn’t even really fit in. The signature black jeans, a simple black shirt that hugs his biceps with the way he has his arms crossed in front of his chest. His hair hanging down to the side, the tips of it grazing over the tattooed skin, when he moves his head talking. My god, can he stop being this attractive?

“I can see that. I’m quite jealous of your collection, to be honest.”, I say.

“You can borrow any of them, if you’d like.”, he offers.

“Really?!”, I exclaim excitedly, already inspecting the rows for some fitting subjects, but my eyes dart back to him. Waiting for an answer.

He shrugs, but the little smile on his lips stays on. “Yes, I mean I have read most of them, I guess they deserve to be read by somebody else as well.” That little piece of information gives so much about him away. He lives here alone – at least staying here when he is on leave – and he must stay alone most of the time. With what I know now, that he hasn’t really been dating the last few years and that he doesn’t plan on having a partner… It feels so contradictory to the house that is too big for one person, even for a giant like him. What about his friends though? He surely got friends that come over from time to time, no?

I turn back to the books, a simple “Okay” on my lips, not knowing what else to say, the familiar feeling tensing up my shoulders, while I still search for some I’d actually want to read.

His eyes are on me the whole time, just watching, observing, what I’m doing. I can feel them on my backside, trailing down my whole body, and I’m a bit self-conscious that I only put on simple leggings and an oversized shirt, even though it’s a cute one. After my special outfit choice at the concert, I didn’t want to keep up any unrealistic expectations, and this is what I would have worn visiting somebody on any other Friday. It isn’t a date, technically, he just asked if he could “kidnap” me, so… I still hope, he thinks it’s cute.

I pull out books that sound interesting, some familiar, some not so much. Until I have a pile of them in my grasp, Jules Verne’s ‘Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas’ right at the top.

“I’ll read through them a bit later and then choose which to take with me, okay?”, I reassure myself with six books on my arm, looking at the big guy still only standing there.

“Sure, take whatever you like, Kleine.”, and the expression on his face lets me believe for just a second, that he might mean more than just his books. I ignore the tingle that rolls down my spine, as I set them down on the end table next to the couch.

My eyes find him again, darting to the stairs leading up. “So…” I sway from one foot to another, while a little bratty smile plays around the corners of my mouth. “You got a bedroom in your abode as well?”

His gaze darkens in an instant, the soft smile turning into that damned smirk that makes my knees weak, but there is also some reprimand in his look. He pushes himself off the doorframe, stalking closer with slow, big strides. “I do indeed have a bedroom.”, he answers, his voice a tad deeper than before.

I grin at him, feeling like red riding hood coaxing the big bad wolf. “You wanna show me ooor…?”, I continue. The tension between us flurries through the air, I can almost feel the moment of suspension prickling at my fingertips, before I dart away and he leaps forward, catching up to me in just two quick steps.

He grabs me, which makes me squeal and giggle, and throws me over his shoulder. I wriggle in his hold on me, playfully straining against his arm securing me there, but it’s futile anyways. “Stop it, Fräulein.”, he grunts, slapping my ass – once – with his other hand. I yelp again, but a bright grin stalks onto my lips as I tease him with a “Yes sir”, that earns me another spank.

next part: hanging off König's shoulder or more Stuff in the Masterlist ~

a/n: thanks for tuning into this plot part of the pwp - the other p will follow... uni in january is kicking my butt, so bear with me, the next five parts are already in the works - "just" need to finish them (will take more time)🫠 i might also post some more random scenes, that don't fit the plot right now - or possibly never - that are just sitting in my drafts and thanks for reading, as always <3 (it makes my day to see names coming back everytime c':)

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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solarmorrigan · 10 months

Text

They aren’t high, but they might as well be.

It’s so late that it’s early, sitting in those odd hours of motionless night when exhaustion throws a ridiculous filter over everything and it’s an effort not to laugh loud enough to alert Robin’s parents to the fact that there’s an unauthorized boy in her room.

She and Steve have been lying side by side on her bed for the last hour, both knowing they should probably go to sleep if they’re going to wake up with enough time for Steve to sneak out and actually drive home safely, but they’re not quite ready yet. Instead, they’re content to be pressed together, shoulder to ankle, hands intertwined between them, content to feel the other secure and nearby.

Robin lifts their hands and uncurls her fingers, spreading them open like a star and prompting Steve to do the same, until their hands are pressed flat together with their fingers outstretched.

“Your hands are bigger than mine,” Robin says, looking at the way her palm fits into Steve’s with room to spare and the way his fingers extend past hers by almost a whole knuckle.

“Probably because I’m bigger than you,” Steve says, also lazily gazing at the way their hands fit together.

“Yeah, but they’re, like, way bigger than mine,” Robin insists. “You have really big hands.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “They’re not that big. You just have stubby fingers.”

“Rude. You just have giant hands.”

“I do not.”

“Like mittens.”

“No.”

“Banana hands.”

“You are literally the only girl who has ever said something bad about the size of my hands.”

Robin smacks her free hand against Steve’s chest. “Ew.”

Steve is laughing. “You started it.”

“Lies,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hand in both of hers so she can continue examining it. “Why are your nails so nice?”

Steve watches as Robin traces the tips of her fingers over the even cuticles and neatly trimmed ends of his nails. “Because I take care of them, and I don’t bite them, unlike some people.”

“I never bite your nails,” Robin says, smiling as Steve groans dramatically.

“That was terrible. You’re terrible.”

“Nope, you love me.”

“I can love you even if you’re terrible.” Steve turns his hand so he can catch one of Robin’s and look it over for himself. “You’ve been biting your nails a lot lately.”

Robin shrugs. “Stressed,” is all she offers; she doesn’t really have to say much more for him to get it.

Steve frowns, threading his fingers back through hers and squeezing. “You used to paint them, didn’t you? Like, to help you remember not to chew on them so much?”

“I did, yeah,” Robin says thoughtfully. “It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about doing that.”

“You should do it again. Give your nails a chance to heal,” Steve says.

Robin hums, as if she has to think it over. “Only if you let me paint yours, too.”

And maybe it’s the fact that it’s after two a.m., but all Steve does is shrug and say, “Yeah, sure.”

Robin sits up on the bed like Dracula popping up out of his coffin, turning to stare at him with her bedhead flying wild around her face. “Seriously?”

“You want me to say no?” Steve asks.

“Well I didn’t expect you to just say yes!” Robin says in a hushed yell. “I thought I’d have to argue you down.”

Steve grins. “Go get your nail polish before I change my mind, Buckley.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice. Robin swings her legs off the bed and goes to her dresser, digging through her makeup case and returning with a handful of black-capped bottles.

“Pick your poison, Harrington.” Robin gestures to the array of colors.

Steve is slow to sit up, stretching and groaning before he turns to sit cross-legged in front of Robin. “You pick. I’ve never had my nails painted before, so we’ll have to go with your expertise.”

“Hmm.” Robin clasps her fingers together under her chin, tapping her lips with her index fingers as if this is the most serious decision she’ll ever have to make. Finally, her hand flashes out and grabs one of the bottles, holding it up and wiggling it for Steve to see. “How about a little navy blue, sailor?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he can’t tamp down his smile. “Why not?”

“Okay, gimme your hand.” Robin holds her hand out for Steve’s, palm up and fingers making grabby curls.

Steve puts out his left hand and lets Robin place it on her knee, fingers outstretched while he waits for Robin to shake the bottle of polish thoroughly and unscrew the cap.

“Try to hold still,” Robin instructs him, biting the tip of her tongue between her teeth in concentration as she applies the brush to his thumbnail.

Obligingly, Steve holds as still as possible, content to watch as Robin works her way from his thumb and onto his index finger, coating his nails in shining wet navy blue.

He pulls his hand away for a moment when Robin has to dip the brush back in the bottle for more polish, looks over her handiwork, and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow,” he says, putting his hand back down on Robin’s knee when she gestures for it. “You really suck at this.”

Robin lets out a surprised bark of laughter, narrowly avoiding streaking nail polish down the length of Steve’s finger. “Fuck off, I do not!”

“You kinda do, Rob,” Steve says, his voice full of warmth even as he denounces her skill with a brush.

“How would you even know?” Robin jibes. “You said you’ve never had your nails painted before.”

“I know the nail polish isn’t supposed to go over the edges of the nail,” Steve shoots back.

They both pause to look at the way the polish has been laid thick over the skin on either side of Steve’s nails and has even dribbled a little bit onto the tip of one of his fingers.

“Shut up. It’s a process,” Robin finally says, taking the brush to his ring finger.

“A process, huh?”

“Yes! You paint the nails, and then you use nail polish remover and, like, a Q-tip to clean up the edges.”

“Uh huh.”

“You’re just fussy, that’s all,” Robin pronounces, grinning at Steve’s little noise of offense.

“I am not fussy,” he insists.

“You kinda are, Steve,” Robin replies. “Anyway, I’d like to see you do a better job.”

“Deal,” Steve says, maybe a little too quickly for Robin’s liking. “I’ll do your nails next.”

“Well that, I have to see,” Robin says, putting the brush back into the bottle and motioning for him to switch hands.

True to her word, Robin quietly retrieves the nail polish remover and some Q-tips from the bathroom and neatens up her paintjob once she’s finished, and Steve appraises her work like a jeweler looking over and handful of gems.

“Not bad, Buckley,” he says, shrugging his lips.

Robin rolls her eyes. “What are you now, a fashion critic? Hurry up and paint my nails so I can make fun of you.”

Steve’s answering grin is unsettlingly sharp, but Robin still lets him pick the color. He settles on red—“To accent the blue, obviously”—and shakes the bottle before pulling the brush and starting on Robin’s left hand where it rests on his knee.

His strokes are smooth and even, not once straying over the edges of her nails, not even over the bitten, ragged ends, and he moves from one finger to the next with a kind of practiced ease.

“What the fuck!” Robin barely remembers to keep her voice down in her outrage. “Why are you good at this?”

Steve ducks his head, clearly holding in a laugh. “I used to paint Carol’s nails for her all the time.”

“Carol Perkins?” Robin asks, brows furrowed.

“Did I spend a lot of time with any other Carols?” Steve shoots her a look from beneath his lashes before turning back to his work.

“Why?”

Steve shrugs. “She tried to get Tommy to do it one day and he refused, so she asked me to do it instead, and… I dunno, I figured, why not? I did suck at it at first,” he admits. “But I think she just liked having someone’s focus on her for the time it took to do her nails. And I guess I just – like, it felt good, I guess. Taking care of someone else, even just in that little way. And I liked how the nail polish looked when I finally got it right.

“Any time we hung out at her house, she’d ask me to paint her nails for her, or she’d steal my mom’s nail polish if we were at mine. It was, like… our thing, I guess?”

For a moment, Robin sits in the knowledge that Steve and Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins had actually been friends.

From the outside, the three of them had looked like a toxic hurricane of derision and unfairly nice bone structure; they were rarely seen without looks of condescending amusement or lounging around being too cool for everyone else. It had been easy to think of their arrangement as some kind of superficial bond of mutual bitchiness, but at the same time, everyone distantly knew that Steve and Tommy and Carol had been a package deal since at least middle school.

Tommy and Carol had been the only two people Steve routinely hung out with, now that Robin thinks about it. People from basketball and swim and other hangers-on came and went, but those two had been fixtures. They’d probably been his best friends.

And midway through Junior year, Steve had left them.

He’d realized they weren’t who he thought they were, or maybe he’d realized they weren’t who he wanted to be, but the fact is that he’d left behind the two people he’d known the longest and had stepped uncertainly forward without knowing if he’d have anyone at all after that.

For a while he’d had Nancy. Then had come Henderson and all the other rugrats – but as much as Steve loves them, that isn’t quite the same as friends your own age, is it?

But now, he has Robin.

And she’s going to make sure that’s worth something.

“I can’t believe I’ve had some kind of professional manicurist under my nose this whole time,” Robin laments, grinning at Steve when he glances up at her with a huff.

“I’m pretty sure you have to get paid to be a professional. Are you gonna pay me for my services?” he asks.

“I will pay you in love and affection,” Robin declares. “Money can’t buy you these things, Steve.”

“That’s convenient,” Steve shoots back.

“Isn’t it? And I’m going to paint your nails yellow next time,” Robin says.

Steve glances to the side, where Robin’s collection of nail polish sits. “You don’t have any yellow.”

“I’ll buy some.” Robin shrugs. “I think it would look good on you.”

“And you just assume I’m going to let you paint my nails again.” Steve raises an eyebrow at her as he dips the brush back in the bottle to rewet it for the last couple of nails.

“Yep,” Robin says easily.

Steve looks back down, like he really needs to focus that hard on getting the nail of her ring finger just right, but she can tell he’s biting down on a smile.

“Okay,” he finally says, quietly.

“Okay,” she echoes back, giving him a sleepy smile when he glances up.

It’s late, and it’s going to be even later by the time they can go to sleep without ruining their nails, and in fact they’re probably not going to get any sleep at all, but somehow, Robin doesn’t mind.

Even being sleep deprived together with Steve is better than anything she can think of doing apart.

[Prompt: Comparing hand sizes]

#disclaimer: I don't know how big either of these people's hands are just roll with it #stobin #platonic stobin #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things #solar wrote #robin paints nails like I paint nails and she is valid <3

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zepskies · 5 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 19

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: Deep breaths, my friends. We’re almost to the end. ❤️

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Violence, peril, blood and guns, character death…

Part 19: “Sacrifice”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted…but you didn’t answer.

“You there?” he asked. There was a pit forming in his stomach when he glanced up at John. His father met his gaze with furrowed brows that betrayed concern.

The line was silent for one more painful moment. Dean opened his mouth to call out to you again, but a smooth voice interrupted.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” a man replied. “Forgetting something?”

Dean’s heart began to pound. His mouth parted, but for a moment, the words wouldn’t escape.

“Who is this?” he said. His voice was a hint unsteady.

“I think you know, son,” the man replied.

Dean’s wide eyes flicked up to John’s, and the other man sprang into action. He shot a look and a whispered order at Cas, who went running for some IP tracking equipment back in the police car.

Meanwhile, John guided Dean to sit down on the couch. Sam followed them on his brother’s right, while John sat on Dean’s left.

Dean put the phone on speaker between the three of them.

“You’re Daniel Savage, huh?” Dean said. He tried to inject some more control into his tone, like he wasn’t freaking the fuck out. “Man, do I feel special.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Dean-o. I’m doing the same thing your dad’s doing. Hooking the bigger fish.”

Dean’s lips pursed. He glanced at his father, but his attention on the phone turned steely.

“What the hell do you want?” he asked. “Your lackey’s on lockdown. So’s your bastard son. If you want to help him, I’d suggest you turn your ass over to the cops.”

“Yes, Nick’s an idiot. But family, right?” said Daniel. He breathed out a sigh.

But then his voice was firm and calculating. It made Dean’s skin crawl.

“Cards on the table, son. Your daddy’s got something of mine. I’ve got something of yours.”

Dean’s face hardened, but John raised a placating hand; a warning to keep calm. Dean tried to take a breath.

His heart clenched at the mere thought of you being in the same room with that man. Having been taken and hauled to God knows where. He couldn’t imagine how scared you were. And if you were hurt…

Fuck. There was a roiling pit forming in his stomach, his head starting to pound in time with his heartbeat.

Already Cas was back with a laptop and program designed to track the caller’s phone. He connected a USB-like cord to Dean's phone and began fiddling with the settings, trying to get a read. Dean knew he had to keep this fucker talking.

“You have her with you?” he asked.

“Sure do. She’s a pretty little thing.”

Dean’s jaw clenched in a furious glare. “Don’t you fucking touch her, you son of a bitch.”

“Quid pro quo, Dean. What can you do for me?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, as desperation began to escape him. “There’s no way they’re letting Nick go before the trial. It’s out of my dad’s hands.”

“Your dad has no real evidence that my son is anything more than a successful businessman,” said Daniel. “If you really need someone to pin these unfortunate murders on, you had your man in custody…but, oh wait. You gave him immunity.”

Dean’s eyes were desperate when they met Sam’s worried ones, then their father’s. It didn’t matter that John and Cas did have evidence besides Alastair’s testimony. All Dean cared about was you.

He swallowed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. It’s what I want John to do.”

Dean took a moment to close his eyes, pull himself together. His hands squeezed his knees to brace himself. When he next opened his eyes, he let out a sharp breath.

“What do you want then? Aside from Nick somehow breaking loose,” he asked.

“I want your dad to back the fuck off, once and for all,” Daniel said. His voice was more edged, with both warning and a hint of frustration. “Or I’ll make his son live the same pathetic existence he does.”

Dean’s next breath came out harsher, as both John and Sam sharpened at the threat.

“That’s right, Dean. These are my terms of engagement, else I’m gonna have a bonfire with your girl here.”

It all gripped Dean at once.

Panic, anger, and desperation.

He grabbed the phone and spoke harshly into the speaker.

“Put her on the damn line," he said. "I wanna hear her and know this isn’t a trick.”

Daniel sighed, like he was getting bored. “Oh, all right.”

There was some shuffling, the sound of Daniel’s steps echoing in what sounded like a large room. Dean’s brows furrowed as he heard sounds of your struggle, then your labored breaths, as if a gag had been removed from your mouth.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Go ahead and talk to him,” said Daniel.

Soon enough, your tremulous voice reached him.

“Dean?” you said. You sounded like you were fighting tears; maybe even losing. Dean’s heart broke all the more for it.

“Yeah, it’s me. Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” you said, though your voice shook. He hoped you weren’t lying for his sake.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He raised a fist to his mouth, ignoring how it shook. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m going to find you—”

All too soon, the phone was taken away from you.

“Rule number one of negotiations, kid. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Dean’s eyes widened. The next thing he heard was a hard slap. It echoed into the speaker, along with your shout of both surprise and pain, a chair toppling over.

“You fucking bastard!” Dean seethed. “When I find you—”

John interrupted this time, taking the cell phone from Dean. He shot his son a look that was meant to be reassuring, but Dean was too incensed. Sam gripped his shoulder and earned his brother’s gaze. Dean’s chest heaved with the effort of calming his breathing.

“What do you want?” John said into the phone. His voice was clipped and direct.

While he continued to speak, Cas was frowning in frustration over his laptop.

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“I can’t get a lock on his signal. He must have something throwing off the scanner,” Cas replied.

Dean growled in frustration and pushed off the couch. He began to pace the living room, all while he tried to keep an ear on what John was saying lowly into the phone.

By the time he hung up, Dean was raging.

“Fuck this, I’m gonna find her,” he said. John tried to stop him from going anywhere with a hand on his shoulder. Dean knocked him off angrily. Sam also stood, for once on the same page as his father, no matter how much he sympathized.

“Dean, you need to calm down,” John tried.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t ask for this!” Dean shouted. The force of it echoed on the apartment walls. “Matter of fact, I’ve never asked you for a damn thing until now. Only that you’d keep me in the loop on Azazel, and keep her out of this. But you couldn’t even do that, could you?”

Sam was at a loss, looking between his father and brother. Cas was also caught in between, watching the scene with concern, and bated breath.

John’s broad shoulders sunk a bit, along with the deep breath he expelled.

“You’re right,” John said. "You're right, son. And I'm sorry."

His eyes held the weight of his words. Of sincerity. And by degrees, Dean’s anger lessened.

Again, not by much.

“Let’s fix it,” said John. “Once and for all.”

Dean wasn’t fully recovered from his TBI. He’d been cleared for driving, but not yet for full physical exercise, let alone going back to work. The stress of all this was giving him a powerful headache, but there was no way he was going to be sidelined now, on any part of it.

Sam was forced to withdraw the case against Nick Savage, citing lack of evidence to support a trial at this time. The judge gave Sam permission to refile when he was able to build a better case.

John was then tasked with escorting Nick out of prison. Cas, meanwhile, was sitting in his personal car outside the county jail with Dean in the passenger seat. Cas didn’t trust what his friend would do behind the wheel once he saw Nick.

“What happens after Nick gets out?” Dean asked. “Dad’s been cagey about the whole deal.”

“We’re escorting him to the airport,” Cas said. “There we’ll wait for Daniel and make the exchange.”

Nick, for you. That was the deal.

“And then?” Dean asked, his teeth already clenching.

Cas blew out a sigh. “We’ll have a unit waiting on standby. We’re going to try and get ahold of whoever has her, though I doubt Daniel will come himself.”

“What if you can’t catch him?” Dean pressed.

Cas didn’t want to have to tell his friend something he didn’t want to hear, but he didn’t make a habit of lying to Dean. He wasn’t about to start now.

“Then it’s over, for now,” he replied. “We each go back to our corners and regroup.”

“Dad’ll never stop hunting this guy,” Dean said.

“That may be,” Cas nodded. “But he does have a line.”

“My father’s an obsessed bastard,” Dean groused. “He doesn’t have a damn line.”

Cas looked over at him then. He was calm and sympathetic, and yet, still disagreeing in his silence. Dean knew he was probably wrong, but in the moment, he didn’t care. He was still angry.

He perked up, however, when the prison doors slid open. Out came John escorting Nick and his lawyer, Amelia. Nick looked as smug as ever now that his cuffs were off. He was given the clothes he was arrested in—a blue silk shirt, pants, Italian leather shoes, and a silver Rolex watch.

Screw this, Dean thought. He unlocked the car from his side and climbed out. He didn’t care that he could hear Cas mutter a curse behind him and follow suit.

Nick saw Dean coming and couldn’t help but smirk, even as John grasped his arm and led him to his police car.

“Hey, fireman,” Nick taunted with his waggling brows. “Where’s our girl?”

Dean’s lips edged at a dangerous smile. Cas came up just behind him, ready to restrain him if need be.

“You can finesse your way out of this, but remember our little chat,” Dean said. His eyes burned with a thinly veiled threat. “Not a dime in this world can protect you from me.”

Nick pretended to shiver.

“Ooh, I’m so fucking scared,” he snarked. He resisted John’s manhandling and ripped his arm out of the other man’s grasp to step further into the open, leaving just a few yards between him and Dean.

“You can’t touch me,” Nick taunted. “You won’t dare. Not unless you want—”

Three shots rang out in the open clearing.

All heads ducked, but Dean’s eyes widened. He watched Nick crumple to the ground as scarlet red plumed in the man’s silk shirt. The shock etched on his face drained along with his life, leaving blue eyes staring up at a clear sky.

Forensics at the scene found traces of a sniper on the rooftop of a building directly across from the county jail.

John and Cas already were mounting an entire unit search in locating Alastair Rolston, but he had apparently moved out of his apartment as soon as he was released from prison with his immunity deal. (The police officers escorting him into witness protection had been found dead at the scene of his designated safe house.)

The detectives were later called into the medical examiner’s office on the case of Nick Savage—not to examine the body, but the bullets that had carved into his heart, right lung, and throat.

One of the bullets had a special casing. Inside was a rolled-up note, not unlike a carrier pigeon. It had a simple message:

JOHN — STULL STORAGE. COME ALONE.

Once again, Dean refused to sit idly. He’d pushed back hard enough that John had eventually relented. This time, however, Sam stepped in to make sure his brother was reigned in. Dean’s knee was already bouncing with anticipation and nervousness.

It was nearly midnight on a Tuesday. The brothers sat in the surveillance van with Jody Mills, all wearing protective Kevlar vests as precaution. The van was removed from the immediate site of Stull Storage, which was made up of a main warehouse and several rows of storage units on the other side.

Cas was leading another police unit on standby, but John was going into the warehouse. He wore his usual leather jacket over his rumpled shirt, pants, and boots, but also a protective vest and hidden wire under his collar.

Sam, Dean, and Jody were able to listen in as John entered alone.

He had a flashlight positioned over his raised gun as he walked into the building. He found some light switches along the wall and was able to turn on half the room’s fluorescent ceiling lights.

He heard a whimper.

Moving towards the sound cautiously, John soon found you tied to a chair. You looked a bit worse for wear; though you were dressed for an interview in black slacks and a blouse, your hair was in disarray, your cheek still sported a fading red mark, and you likely had other bumps and bruises.

Your eyes widened with hope when you saw John. You made sounds of surprise around the gag tied in your mouth, but he shushed you with a finger held to his lips.

He went over to you after lowering his gun, cocking back the safety, and re-holstering. He went to untie the gag first. You breathed deeply when it was gone.

“You okay?” he asked, touching your arm in comfort.

“Yeah,” you nodded, but your widening eyes still darted behind him.

Another safety clicked back. John immediately drew his gun again and turned. He was met with the man of the hour.

Standing mere feet away with his own gun was Daniel Savage. AKA: Azazel.

“Ooh, you’re getting old, John,” he said with a smirk. “Wasn’t expecting to get the drop on you so easily.”

John subtly moved so he was standing in front of you. He hadn't had time to untie you from the chair. Your breathing came out shallow as you tried to spy around John to your captor.

“Daniel,” John greeted. “It’s about time, wouldn’t you say?”

“You cheated though,” said Daniel, despite his cocky smirk. Like father like son. “I know you’ve got a team waiting in the wings.”

“If you wanna get technical, you cheated first,” John pointed out.

Daniel shrugged. Behind him came around ten of his own hired men, armed with their own guns. “Hate the player, hate the game, my friend.”

John’s lips pursed, but he didn’t lower his gun. He had a straight shot at Daniel’s chest.

“Even if you do get off a shot, you’ll be Swiss cheese where you stand,” Daniel said.

“Small price to pay for ending your miserable fucking life,” John remarked.

Daniel’s brows rose. “Are you gonna make her pay for it too?”

He gestured behind John, where he glanced back at your face. Your red-rimmed eyes were shining with tears. And John knew that once his gun fired, his body would hit the ground. Yours wouldn’t be far behind.

His brows furrowed, and the hands holding his weapon wavered.

“So how you do think this is gonna play out?” John asked.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to drop that damn gun,” said Daniel. He cocked his own weapon. “Then, you’re going to get down on your knees and take this bullet, like putting down a rabid dog. Then maybe, I’ll let her go before the cops rush in.”

John’s hesitation was mere seconds. He clicked the safety back on. He set down his gun, and lowered to his knees in slow movements.

Your eyes widened further as incredulous tears slipped down your cheeks. You shook your head.

“Don’t!” you said shakily.

John didn’t look back at you this time, but he did answer you.

“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he said.

Daniel’s grim smile made you shiver.

“What a caring father-in-law,” he said, and he slowly stalked forward. “You know, I prided myself on delegating my operations well. Oh, it was a well-oiled machine back in the day. But some things…well, some things are just better handled yourself. Know what I mean?”

He tilted his head down at John.

“For example: I really regret the way I had your wife killed,” he said. “For all the trouble you’ve given me, I wish I’d actually burned the bitch myself.”

John glared up at the man with pure fury and hatred.

Though his eyes widened when the first shot split the air, and buried a bullet in Daniel’s left arm. Daniel shouted in pain as he unconsciously dropped his gun. John dove for it, and everything started to happen at once.

Daniel kicked at John’s chest while holding his wounded arm, tossing the other man back. John rolled onto his feet, and their full out brawl began. Meanwhile, a unit of police officers swarmed into the warehouse and sparked a shootout with Daniel’s men.

And in all of this, Cas came out from behind your line of vision to untie you. He wore a protective vest over his usual white dress shirt, now rolled up to the elbows.

“Cas!” you gasped. He gave you a smile, then used a pocketknife to cut through the zip ties holding your wrists behind you and your ankles to the chair.

“Come on, let’s go.” He helped you up and guided you out the back of the warehouse.

The last coherent sound Sam and Dean heard was a bullet fired and hitting its target. They couldn’t tell if it was John or Daniel that had been hit, or even you.

Above all things, Dean was a man of action.

He just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck this,” he growled. He got to his feet and went for the door of the surveillance van, but while Jody voiced her protest, it was Sam who reached him first.

“Dean, stop! You can’t go out there!” Sam said.

“The hell I can’t,” Dean said. The punch he reared back and threw was precise when it cracked Sam in the cheek. He went down hard. It was all Jody could do to keep him from knocking his head on the metal floor, but Sam was out cold, with his hair flopped over his face.

"Dean!" Jody yelled after him. She stared after the open door of the van with wide, worried eyes.

There were rows upon rows of storage units behind the warehouse. It felt like a maze in itself, one that you and Cas were forced to navigate alone in the crisp January night. Both of you saw your breath on the air as you tried to move quickly, but quietly.

Until a long arm reached out on the other side of a unit, and a hand closed on Cas’s gun, pushing it down and ripping it out of his hands. An elbow cracked into his face, making him grunt and stumble.

Your scream of surprise echoed in the night. You stared up into the familiar face of Alastair, whose mouth formed a sly grin.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he said.

Cas distracted him with a blow that Alastair blocked, but it gave Cas room to break the taller man’s stance and knock his head against the unit wall—once, twice, until the man stumbled and fell. He wasn’t knocked out, but Cas didn’t wait for Alastair to recover. He grabbed you and forced you to run.

“I thought he was in protective custody for the trial,” you said, through huffing breaths.

“Evidently he escaped,” Cas replied.

“God, Cas. You really need to hand out some pink slips,” you said, with a tremor in your voice. The police were supposed to have been watching you as well, before you were kidnapped. Cas conceded your point.

“We really shouldn’t have given him immunity,” he grumbled.

Dean knew he was being some kind of idiot.

Knew it as he carefully approached a side door of the warehouse. His vest wouldn’t protect his whole body if he entered the no man’s land shootout he could hear happening on the other side of the door.

Already he could see policemen escorting some of Azazel’s captured team around the front exit. Dean kept to the shadows, and he cracked the side door open.

There was still plenty going on inside. A few bodies were already strewn across the dusty warehouse floor. Large crates stacked up to the ceiling offered meager protection for both sides of the siege, including Dean as he kept to the wall and slid his way inside and behind a formation of wooden crates. He scanned the room until he found his dad.

John was fighting hand-to-hand with who had to be Daniel Savage. Even though the latter had blood dripping from his arm, John had his share of bruises and scrapes, including a long cut across his cheek from the knife clenched in Daniel’s non-injured right hand.

What the hell do I do? Dean assessed the situation, his eyes darting quickly between the men. He came in here without a weapon (another smart move). He went through most of the training a million years ago, but Dean wasn’t a police officer. He was a firefighter.

However, when he spotted a forgotten Glock on the floor, just a few yards away where the men were still tousling, Dean inched his way closer. He’d have to leave the relative safety of the crates and throw himself out into the open to reach the gun. At this point, Daniel was closer.

And he’d noticed the gun too, at the same time that John glanced up and saw his son. His eyes widened, and just for a moment he lost his grip on Daniel. The other man went for the gun at the same time Dean dove.

John yanked Daniel back by his collar and kneed him in the stomach. But Daniel had the longer reach. He cracked an elbow into John’s face and followed by a swift punch to the gut. John grunted and doubled over at the impact to his already battered ribs and stomach.

Daniel threw him head-first into a pile of nearby crates. He was breathing hard, but his lips twitched in satisfaction at the way John fell into a heap of broken wood. The detective was clearly waning.

Daniel stalked forward. Ignoring his still bleeding shoulder, he grabbed John by the jacket and collar of his shirt and hefted him up to his feet, prepared to deliver another blow. The cocking of a nearby gun made him pause. But in a moment, he twisted John in front him with an arm wrapped around his neck to face his next attacker.

While Daniel had been distracted, Dean had managed to dive and roll across the concrete, scooping up the gun on his way back onto his feet. Now he’d had the time to take aim and wait for his moment, which was right fucking now.

Slowly, Daniel tilted his head to look past John’s shoulder. He was met with Dean’s smirk and a gun pointed directly at his head.

“I think I’ve got something of yours,” Dean remarked. His fingers slid over the trigger.

Daniel tilted his head. A dry smile edged at the corner of his lips. “All right, Dean. Well played. But…”

He tightened his arm around John’s throat and held the knife poised at his neck.

“We’re at what you’d call an impasse, don’t you think?” Daniel asked.

“Dean,” John said. He met his eldest’s gaze as uncertainly crept into Dean’s stance. His hand was still held aloft, but there was an almost imperceptible shake.

“Just shoot him,” said John, with full conviction. “Don’t worry about me.”

Dean’s mouth pressed into a line, his brows furrowing. He wasn’t doing that.

“See, I don’t think he’s got it in ‘im,” Daniel said, speaking lowly in John’s ear. His knife tightened against John’s neck. “You’re out of your fucking depth, Dean.”

Dean flinched as a bullet zoomed past his head from across the room. He was reminded that there was still a fight going on, and the three of them were very much out in the open. John’s face turned more urgent, with thinly veiled worry.

“Dean, either shoot him or get the hell out of here,” he said tersely.

“I’m not leaving,” Dean said, with a small, stubborn shake of his head. But he was nervous. Despite how close he’d come with Nick Savage, Dean had never shot at someone, let alone taken a life. The gun was heavy in his hand.

“Running out of time, son,” Daniel taunted.

“I’m not your fucking son,” Dean gritted out. “Speaking of, did you have Alastair do your dirty work, taking out Nick, or did you pull that trigger yourself?”

Daniel’s smirk faded, his gaze tightening with resignation.

“Sacrifices, Dean,” he said. “We make ‘em to survive. To make sure our legacies survive.”

Dean’s eyes widened as he looked at this man, and he finally understood what his dad had been trying to tell him.

He ain’t a man. He’s a monster.

The gun was heavy in his hand…

“Come on, Dean!” Daniel shouted. “Make a decision—”

Dean still remembered most things he’d learned at the Police Academy. He’d lived, ate, sweat, and breathed those drills and tests for months. And yet, there was only one score he’d truly been proud of. It was the one record of his dad’s that he’d managed to beat.

You could guess which one.

Dean let his fingers squeeze the trigger on some instinct he couldn’t name. Daniel was forced to choke on his words.

Cas pulled you around the corner of a storage unit that blocked the light of the moon. It was just in time for a bullet to rip past where his head used to be.

You leaned heavily against the wall and heaved for breath, but Cas held a finger to his lips while he tried to calm his own breathing.

You held a hand over your mouth to try and stifle the sounds from getting out. Your eyes were wide and panicked, but Cas could only reassure you with a brief hand on your shoulder. He nodded and signaled with his free hand. Wait.

You gave a jerky nod in return. So he reached for his belt and brandished the only weapon he had left—the knife he’d used to cut through your bonds. The air was quiet, except for the distant shouts of police officers; it sounded like Azazel’s men were finally being rounded up.

Cas had called for backup earlier, but he didn’t think they could wait for it. Nor would he know if they were coming. He’d long since turned off the radio on his belt so that it couldn’t tip off his position with you.

He chanced looking around the wall of the storage unit. The coast looked clear, though he knew it wasn’t. Still, the best Cas could hope for was to cover you on the way back to the police barricade. He leaned back and reached for you. He guided you, both with his eyes and a hand on your back.

On the count of three, run, he mouthed. You wordlessly agreed. He saw the fear shining in your eyes.

One…two…

An arm shot out to grab Castiel’s collar the moment he stepped out from his cover, making you scream. The first punch came swift; Alastair was taller, perhaps stronger, but Cas recovered quickly.

He ducked the other man’s arm and delivered an uppercut that had his adversary careening back. With a well-placed jab to the wrist, Alastair’s gun clattered away across the ground.

Cas managed to shoot you a quick look. “Run. Now!”

You paused for a mere moment while Cas continued to grapple with Alastair. Then, in your frozen fear, you finally managed flight. And you took off running, even though Alastair tried to grab at your hair. Cas held him back and continued the fight.

You’d only managed a few yards of distance though, before you couldn’t help but look back. Something in you just couldn’t leave Cas behind.

You took cover behind another storage unit and watched Alastair slowly get the upper hand. He managed to pin Cas against the ribbed metal wall of a unit. He winced as it dug into his spine, but he had bigger problems.

He spat blood after the third blow to his jaw and tried to blink dark spots of his vision. Alastair looked down on him with the lean look of a predator. His smile betrayed the enjoyment he took in his work.

“Contrary to what you might think, I’ve never killed a cop before,” he said. “Just a cop’s wife.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction. Alastair’s smile deepened. He raised a bloody fist to finish his work, but he winced and weakened with a shout as a knife embedded deep in his thigh.

It was Cas’s knife that you’d found on the ground.

Alastair’s angry eyes looked down and met your scared ones. You let go of the knife and scrambled back. He backhanded you roughly. You cried out and fell hard on the pavement.

Alastair reached for the knife, but Cas grabbed it first. He twisted as he yanked it out, then jabbed it into the taller man’s neck. It choked his scream as he stumbled back. And yet, even that didn’t manage to kill him.

Cas dove for the fallen gun. It was mere feet away from where he’d forced it out of Alastair’s grip. Cas felt a hand grab his shoulder. He reacted fast—he turned and shot two rounds of hot led into Alastair’s gut.

His gray eyes went wide. Blood gurgled in his mouth.

And slowly, Alastair slid to the ground.

Cas was bloody, his shirt stained and torn, but he was still standing with ragged breath. You had managed to sit up, though your shocked eyes were trained on the body you’d just seen fall into a heap. The horrific spell of it broke when Cas gently touched your shoulder.

You gasped and raised your head.

“It’s okay,” he said, reaching a hand to you. “It’s over.”

Cas escorted you back to the police barricade. There you found Sam, and the mere sight of him relieved you so much you didn’t realize you were crying when you stepped into his embrace. He hugged you tight and asked if you were all right.

You couldn’t give him an honest answer, but at least you were alive.

“I’m okay,” you said tremulously, but you pulled back at grasped his arms. “Where’s Dean?”

Sam looked anxious as his gaze flit between you and Cas.

“That goddamn idiot, he went in there! They won’t let me through—”

“What?” Cas said incredulously. “Into the warehouse?”

Your tears fell anew as a new frantic worry took hold, churning in your stomach and making you feel sick. You turned, and both Cas and Sam had to stop you from heading towards the warehouse.

“Get him out of there!” you cried. “Dean!”

You tried to push past Cas and his attempts to calm you, but you stopped the moment you saw him…

Dean was helping John limp out of the warehouse. Jody was on John’s other side, supporting him as well. John looked beat to hell, and exhausted, but there was no mistaking the calm look on his face. Like he’d finally sleep tonight.

Dean, on the other hand, looked pale, haggard, and worried. However, his head perked up as soon as he heard your voice. His eyes widened. He turned to Jody to make sure she could support John on her own, and she nodded at him.

It let Dean make his way straight for you.

Sam and Cas finally released you, like a horse waiting to bolt out of the stables. Your tears blurred your vision as you went to him.

When Dean swept you up into his arms, you were able to throw yours around his neck and cling to him for all you were worth. You buried your face into his neck and sobbed your relief.

You wouldn’t know that Dean’s eyes were shining and red, his mouth trembling slightly as he sucked in a breath and held you as tight as he dared. His hand came up to cup the back of your head, over your wild hair. His lips pressed to the side of your head as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“You okay?” he asked, when he was able to speak.

“Mhmm,” you nodded, though his question prompted you to pull back and find his face. Your heels came back to the ground, and you reached up to stroke his cheek and search his gaze.

“What about you?” you asked tremulously. “Your head?”

“’M fine,” he said. Though the truth was, he was reeling. His ears still rung from the bullet that hit Daniel between the eyes.

The weight of that decision was almost too fresh to be real, but it was heavy on Dean all the same. He could even get in legal trouble for this. He wasn’t supposed to have entered that building. Hell, he’d picked up a gun and shot a man.

Though he already knew what Sam would say.

Justification. Imminent danger. Self-defense.

Dean just didn’t know if that would fly here, especially with the Fire Department.

Right now, however, you were his lifeline. You grounded him in reality when you held his face in your hands. Just beyond you, he could see the relief on both Sam and Cas’s faces.

Dean gave them a smile, but he focused back on you. He held your hand to his cheek.

“Promise me you’re gonna stay put for a while,” he quipped. “Preferably where I can see you.”

You scoffed at him through the tears glittering in your eyes.

“Dean Winchester, if that isn’t the most hypocritical thing that’s ever come out of your mouth!” you said, punctuating your words with a slap on his chest.

“Hey!” he protested, but you ignored him. You gripped his shirt and felt the Kevlar underneath. It might’ve protected his chest, but he hadn’t had anything to protect his damn head.

“You run into fires, not bullets, you idiot,” you said, now wiping frustrated tears from your cheek.

Dean’s tension began to ease with a smile. He held you more securely, pulling you flush against him.

“You sound like Bobby,” he teased.

“Good!” you snapped. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that. Do you hear m—?”

He didn’t think he’d ever miss you giving him shit, but this time, it just made him smile until the corners of his eyes crinkled. Shortly before he cut you off with a searing kiss.

You made a sound of surprise, even as you gripped at his shirt, then his face to keep him there. You both knew this night was long from being over. An even longer way from recovering.

But for now, this was a good start.

AN: And so, we're drawing near to the end. 🥹 What did you think of the respective ends of Nick and Daniel Savage, and even Alastair? And of course, her and Dean's reunion. 💗

Soon (this weekend), we have the epilogue...

Next Time:

“So…I’ve gotta tell you something,” said Dean, after he parted from your lips for a moment, and allowed you to breathe. His tone made you tilt your head in suspicion.

“It’s nothing bad,” he said, though he looked a bit nervous.

Your brows furrowed. You led him to the couch, where he took your hands in his. It took him a moment to get started. He seemed stuck on what he wanted to say, or maybe just how he wanted to say it.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure I can handle it,” you teased.

Dean gave you a smile. His shoulders relaxed a little...

Keep Reading: THE EPILOGUE

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strniohoeee · 7 months

Note

I NEED a pregnancy reader x matt smut

Gravid

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N is pregnant and yearning for Matt after reading mommy to be books, and learning about her libido spiking….will he give in?😙

Warnings⚠️: SMUT BABES, it’s nothing crazy just sex while pregnant? Idk shit bout being pregnant, so I tried my best LMAOO

Song for the imagine: Baby Love- The Supremes

⚠️This is an 18+ story, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

Matt and I had been dating for a good four years. We were both 21 now, and he and his brothers were super famous on YouTube. I always had a feeling they’d get bigger than they thought. I was there for every milestone, and when they hit 5 million subscribers we were so fucking happy

I was occasionally in videos, I preferred to stay out of them as those were his brothers lives, and not mine. However I would pop out here and there since we were 18. At first most fans thought we were friends until we were 20, and finally came out to say that we had been dating since we were 18. We got the expected comments half loving and half hating, but I didn’t care I was secure in my relationship.

However, Matt and I’s anniversary was a while back, and we had fun, LOTS OF FUN consisting of sex, sex and more sex.

But after two weeks I started to feel sick, and sore and just not right, so I decided to go to the doctor thinking it was the flu, or covid. What I didn’t expect was to find out I was pregnant… A WEEK AND A HALF PREGNANT.

I was shocked, but I also knew I wanted to keep this baby, and Matt and I weren’t always the most careful when it came to having sex. But he always told me if I got pregnant he’d take care of me with no questions asked.

I was currently 14 weeks pregnant, and I was showing, but not enough to really make people think. Especially since I dressed to hide my bump, and posed specific ways

The fans suspected nothing, and we didn’t want to say anything till I was almost due. Chris and Nick immediately jumped for joy and were always by my side if Matt couldn’t be. His parents and their brother Justin also supported me.

Mary-Lou and Jimmy would fly out like once a month to spend a few days with Matt and I. They were so excited to be grandparents.

I was reading a lot of what to expect when you’re expect type of books to prepare as best as I could. I was genuinely shocked at all the new information I was finding out

What I did read was starting at 14 weeks women experience a spike in there libido, and I kind of had a feeling because anytime I saw Matt I wanted to jump his bones

It’s called baby brain….we become different, and feral

Matt was out filming with his brothers and I was at home just doing nothing. I heard Matt come home, but I only heard him

He came into the bedroom

“Hey baby” he said putting his stuff down on his desk

“Hey Matt. Where’s Chris and Nick?” I asked

“They went shopping. They said that they wanted to buy some things for the baby” he said walking over and rubbing my little baby bump

“Aww that’s so nice of them. They don’t have to” I said looking up at Matt

“Yeah I know, but they wouldn’t budge they said there’s so many things they want to buy” he said sitting down to take his sneakers off

“They’re too nice I love them” I said as I rubbed my baby bump

Matt came over and laid next to me resting his head on his left hand while looking at me

“What’s my pretty lady been up to?” He asked

“I’ve just been reading these mommy to be books” I said pointing to a stack of books on the nightstand

“Find out anything good?” He asked

“Actually yes, our sex drive spikes at 14 weeks” I told him

“How far along are you?” He asked smirking

“Exactly 14 weeks today” I said winking at him

“Oh well then this must mean one thing” he said smiling at me

“It means you look so fucking hot all the time, I’m ready to jump on you when you walk through that door” I said

“Oh really?” He asked jutting (ew) his bottom lip out while pondering

“Oh yeah, and when you wear those whore outfits looking fine asf. I lose all self respect” I said giving him a kiss

“Oh baby, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself” he said kissing me

“So don’t. I want to fuck, and I want it now” I said sitting up

“Won’t I hurt the baby?” He asked

“Matt….. be for real right now. Do you think the baby got his hand hanging out of my cervix ready to high five your dick?” I asked laughing at him

“You’re such a weirdo with your explanations” he said laughing at me

“You will not hurt the baby. It actually says sex is usually more enjoyable when the woman is pregnant” I told him

“So then let’s find out” he said grabbing my cheek and kissing me

Matt laid me back down as he hovered over me kissing me, and then slowly going down to my neck leaving sloppy kisses

“Matt I missed this” I said sighing

“Me too baby” he said coming back up and kissing my lips

He removed his shirt and his pants, and then took my shirt, and shorts off

“You look so fucking hot pregnant” he said gently rubbing my bump

“Maybe after this one we can have another” I said winking at him

“Oh baby I’ll have as many as you want” he said kissing me

Matt had slid off my underwear before coming back up to kiss me, and massaging my breasts lightly because they were a little sore

As he was kissing me, he slowly slid his hand down to massage my clit

“Fuck baby you’re so wet, and I haven’t even done much” he said looking into my eyes

“Matt when I tell you everytime I see you, I need you…I mean it” I told him

“Fuck baby” he said before going back to rubbing my clit, and slowly inserting two fingers inside of me

“Oh fuck Matt that feels so good” I said moaning at the feeling

He kept pumping his fingers in and out of me, before finally removing them, and placing his dick at my entrance

“Ready baby?” He asked

“I’m ready” I said, and slowly Matt slid into me completely bottoming out

“Fuck baby please move” I moaned out to him

Within an instant Matt was thrusting into me at a good pace, not too hard and not too soft. It felt amazing, and his pelvic bone was rubbing against my clit allowing for extra stimulation

“Oh baby I’m going to cum soon” Matt said as he thrusted into me while kissing my neck

“Me too. This feels so fucking good” I moaned out to him

Sex with Matt was always amazing, but I think because of my hormones it felt extra fucking good. I was so fucking wet like the sounds coming from me were insane

Matt kept thrusting into me, and I couldn’t stop clenching down on him

“Fuck matt I’m going to cum” I said clenching down on him harshly

“Come on baby, cum for me” he said thrusting into me and rubbing my clit

“Oh fuckkk” I yelled out as I came so hard all over Matt, my whole fucking body was shaking and my breathing stopped

“Oh my god” I said coming down from my high breathing heavily

Matt soon pulled out, and came all over my lower stomach. He came down from his high, and immediately ran to get a wet rag

“Sorry…cumming on your baby bump feels wrong” he said laughing, and I laughed with him because he’s such a weirdo

“It’s okay you weirdo” I said laughing at him and sitting up

We cleaned ourselves up, and got dressed, and in queue we heard the front door open

“Look at that perfect timing” he said getting up from the bed, and we both walked out to the living room

“We’re BACKKKKK” Nick yelled as he walked in with a ton of target bags full of baby stuff

“Guys what is all this” I said looking at the bags

“Well we have to spoil our unborn niece or nephew” Chris said bringing in more bags

“YALL THIS IS CRAZY” I said as my eyes fell on at least 12 bags of baby stuff

“Listen we’re so excited you have no idea” Nick said

“Hmm” Chris suddenly stopped and looked at Matt and I

“What?” matt said

“I know what was going on here” he said smirking at us

“The fuck are you talking about?” I said

“My poor niece or nephew was getting scrambled….yall was fuckingggggg” Chris said

“The fuck?” Matt said

“Well…..y/n your hair?? And Matt your shirt is on inside out and backwards” Chris said laughing

“MATT” I said smacking him

“OH MY GOD” Nick said laughing

“Uhh sorry?” Matt said getting all shy

We just laughed at this awkward interaction, and then Chris and Matt gave me a haul of what they got me while explaining every single item, and how either they will use it, or how I will use it

The End

Once again I hope yall enjoyed, and for the person that requested this I hope I didn’t disappoint 🥰 also I would like to do a/n at the end of my stories, so if you have any like personal questions, you can ask them here, and I’ll answer them in the next stories endings or as a separate thread 🤭🤭

-J💅🏽

#sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplet smut #smut

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Note

Hey! Love the temptation danny story so much! Can i have a follow up request where reader has to go home for vacation due to a family reunion while danny is off somewhere for testing and she tells danny that its ok that she goes alone since he is busy but he keeps insisting that they should go together but reader has already booked a flight and the next following days while the family reunion is going on danny just arrives and everyone gets so starstruck by him and he is so possessive of her while the reunion is going on, LOVE THE FICS BTW YOU ARE AN AWESOME WRITER

The Taste of Temptation || DR3 {6}

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, smut, fluff (two part request) WC: 3.4K F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Snapshots: One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Wednesday “Honestly, it’s fine,” you reassured him for the seemingly hundredth time.

Daniel’s suitcase was at the door beside yours except the planes you were leaving from in Nice were going in two very different directions.

“It’s not fine,” he muttered as he checked his Passport was in his back pocket before pulling you into his arms. “I was looking forward to seeing your family again. They’re going to be mine soon too.”

You smiled at the reminder and brushed your thumb over the engagement ring. “You’ll see them at Christmas.”

“Not everyone,” he pointed out. The Christmas get together was going to have both of your immediate family members, with his flying out from Australia. “I want to talk to your cousins.”

“What? Why?” You pulled back to see the mischievous look in his eyes and the smile that promised he was up to something.

“Cousins always tell the truth,” he chuckled. “And I want to know what you were really like as a kid.”

“I was a little angel.”

His hands roamed over your body to settle on your ass and he pulled you flush against him as he teased, “What happened?”

You giggled as you rose on your tiptoes and grazed your nose along his throat before resting your lips on his jaw as you teased him right back, “I fell for a man with a wicked tongue.”

You could see the darkening in his eyes and his lips parted with a filthy suggestion on the tip of his tongue but the blaring of an alarm from his jeans drew a groan out instead. “I’m going to have blue balls for the flight now.”

“You should probably take care of that.”

“It’s a 30 minute drive to the airport, Kitten, you could take care of it along the way.”

It was a strange feeling returning to the town you had grown up in. The streets remained the same, trees lining the curb and kids playing in the front yards, but the faces were all unrecognisable. Like you, most of the people you knew had fled as soon as they finished high school, searching for something bigger than what this place could offer.

Nearly every parking space on the street was taken by your extended family but your dad had saved one for you near the house with the recycling bin. It was a good thing too because Daniel had kind of spoiled you as he walked you to your boarding gate. He hadn’t been able to resist dragging you into the duty free shops in the terminal and now the extra baggage was missing the pair of hands that carried it for you. You had told him it was too much but he just kissed you until you forgot about arguing. It wasn’t fair, you could never win an argument when he cheated like that.

You got the feeling everyone had been waiting for you because the moment your car door closed they all filed out of the house to come and help with your luggage.

“There’s the city-slicker, welcome home,” Vanessa greeted with a kiss on your cheek before pouting as she saw the empty front seat. “Damn, thought you were bringing the sugar daddy with you.”

“Don’t call him that, he’s not my sugar daddy,” you warned with a roll of your eyes but your cousin clearly wasn’t paying attention. “Daniel is with the Red Bull guys in Japan for some big event. He wishes he could come but they called in everyone: Scotty, Liam, Mad Mike, they all had to be there too. ”

Your dad took the suitcase from your hand and nodded understandingly. “That’s a shame, but at least my little girl has finally come home.”

Your bedroom hadn’t changed all that much since you left to go to university and you could see the pin pricks and faded lines in the wallpaper outlining where your posters used to be.

“Ohh, this is gorgeous,” Nessa grinned as she helped herself to the garment bags, the tags still on the designer clothes Daniel had bought you. “So am I going to meet this not-your-sugar-daddy before the wedding?”

“You could come to Christmas if you want, and go ahead, try it on,” you sighed before flinching at the squeak she made before abandoning her clothes like you were still kids and stepping into the first dress. “Nice to see you haven’t outgrown stealing my clothes.”

“There’s a reason we are the same size, it's fate. Karma herself said, Nessa, you deserve to wear nice things too,” she joked as she turned around. “Do me up?”

“You are so full of shit,” you laughed as you zipped her up. “Am I going to get that back?”

“Do you have a sugar daddy?”

“No.”

“Well there's your answer.”

Friday “Hey Kitten,” Daniel greeted with a bright smile when the video call connected. “How’s it going?”

You leaned the phone against your mirror so you could continue to apply your makeup and held up two shades of lipstick. “Just getting ready to go out with Nessa. How’s the event? I haven’t seen many pictures.”

“Left hand, and you won’t - they are keeping everything under wraps until they have finished filming. Think the Melbourne GP promo vid, but bigger…”

You opened the lipstick he chose, the one you knew he would since he always complimented the shade on you - and when it transferred to his skin too. He fell silent as he watched you lean closer into the mirror, leaving the swell of your breasts filling his screen.

“Kitten…I wish I was there,” he sighed when you pulled back and blew him a kiss to show the colour off.

“I wish you were here too,” you admitted, taking the phone with you as you sat on the bed and hugged your pillow. “Two days down, four to go.”

“You’re still counting in days? I’m counting in hours, fuck it, minutes.” He sent you a screenshot and you saw the countdown timer on his homescreen, the hours and minutes slowly ticking away until you were reunited. “Where are you and Nessa going? Is Carter going too?”

You shook your head at the question. Vanessa’s brother was far too busy with his new girlfriend to want to go to the local bar. “He’s too cool to hang out with us at the Old Oak Inn.”

Daniel sat up a little straighter and didn’t appear too pleased at the news. “Is anyone going with you?”

“Ness.”

“You know what I mean,” he huffed, “who is going to look out for you two?”

“Everyone knows everyone here, baby, we’ll be fine.” You gave him a smile as your chest warmed with the same gooey feeling you got every time he worried about you. “I love you, my protective he-man.”

“I love you too, Kitten,” his face softened until he heard Max calling his name outside his hotel door. “Send me lots of pictures, baby, I wanna see my gorgeous girl having fun.”

Nessa burst into the room as you ended the call and ripped the pillow away from your arms. “Get up, bitch, the taxi is here.”

The bar had changed a lot since you last went, the atmosphere more akin to a club than a pub, and you narrowed your eyes at Nessa who just grinned back. “You said it was a chill night out.”

“I lied,” she said with a shrug. “We can go back if you’d rather get in a fight over monopoly?”

You cringed at the thought so she dragged you through the busy room and straight to the bar.

“Holy shit, we have royalty in the house,” an old school friend greeted as he tended to the bar. “Did Monaco get too busy?”

“Not quite, Mark, I’m just back for a family reunion.” He placed your old favourite drink down without having to ask and you quirked an eyebrow at it.

“I have a good memory, but it might taste better than it did in the old plastic cups we drank out of,” he laughed before pouring a bourbon for Nessa. “Milady.”

He wandered off to serve someone else and you turned to Nessa. “You and Mark?”

“A few times, you know, just a bit of fun,” she said as she winked at him when he glanced back. “Oh, head down, Andrew’s here.”

You ducked into her arms and kept your head down until she said you were safe and sighed with relief. “Jesus, everyone really does come here. Is there any other bar around?”

“If you want to catch an STD off the bar top, sure. Plus, your high school sweetheart will probably find his way to Ruby’s later anyway.”

“We dated for like four months, I wouldn’t call him my highschool sweetheart,” you scoffed.

Nessa’s brow lifted. “Need I remind you he took your V Card? Your first always has a teeny tiny place in your heart.”

“Not mine, and Danny took my A Card so that trumps it.”

“A Card…?” she trailed off before her eyes widened in realisation. “Ew gross. Did it hurt?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Whatever, we both know how you get after a few drinks.” She grabbed your phone and held it up as she raised her glass and you clinked them together before tipping them back. “Perfect. And done.”

You barely caught your phone as she carelessly tossed it back and you saw she hadn’t sent it to Danny but uploaded it to Instagram. “Fucksake, Nessa, you left the location on.”

You had learned quite quickly that most of the people that followed you only used it to see updates Daniel might not have posted himself, including using the locations of your posts thinking Daniel would be with you. It had led to a few scary situations before you learned to keep your location off or at least generalised - but she had tagged the Old Oak Inn.

Taking another photo with a pout, you posted it with the caption, ‘half of my soul is half a world away, miss you danielricciardo’ and hoped it would stop some people within driving distance from making the pointless journey hoping to see Danny.

You opened the photo again and zoomed in to see Andrew in the background, his eyes clearly looking at your ass when the camera snapped.

“What made you happy all of a sudden?” Nessa asked as she returned with fresh drinks.

“Danny’s on his way,” you giggled nervously as you clutched your phone to your chest.

“I thought he couldn’t come.”

“He couldn’t, and he shouldn’t, but I don’t think there’s anyone with the balls to stop him. He can be a little stubborn sometimes.” It was a severe understatement and if he wasn’t such a good driver you were certain he would have been fired for some of the escapades he found himself in because he got a little overprotective and possessive when he was away from you. “Christian Horner offered me a job just so I could be wherever Daniel was and keep him in line, but I think it was a joke.”

“You need to accept it, joke or not, your man is whipped for you.”

You took a sip of your drink before you spilled the truth about who really did the whipping and pondered the idea you had initially laughed off. You could still work a similar role with Red Bull, so maybe it shouldn’t have been brushed off so quickly. For tonight, you would focus on having fun with Nessa and catching up with old friends.

Saturday You groaned at the dawn light that brightened the room as the curtains were ripped aside and rolled over. “Nessa, piss off.”

“Something bothering you, kitten?”

You probably looked like a zombie coming to life as you threw your blankets back and rushed up to meet Daniel as he climbed onto the bed. The old frame creaked unused to the extra weight on it but you didn’t care if it collapsed, you weren’t letting go of Daniel once he was in your arms.

“You’re actually here,” you murmured against his lips when you finally broke apart to breathe. You had kept looking over your shoulder all night expecting him to appear but when the bar closed and he still hadn’t arrived your hope had simmered down.

His smile was blinding as he brushed your messy hair back and buried his face in your neck with a deep inhale. He was a cat high on catnip the moment his nose brushed your racing pulse and he guided you back into the sheets as he caged you beneath him. “Told you I’d see you soon.”

“My parent’s room is next door,” you whispered as his hips settled between your legs and he teased you when he rolled them against you.

“Then I suggest you find something to bite,” he chuckled, his fingers slipping into your panties and feeling how your body had instantly reacted to his touch, “because I have missed you so much. I just need to feel you around me. right now.”

His lips parted and he sighed at the pretty sight as he dragged your panties down your legs. “There’s my pretty kitty,” he mused as he shuffled down the bed so he could settle between your legs, kissing your thighs softly as he reacquainted himself after three days apart. “Have you missed me?”

“Like crazy.”

“She thinks I’m talking to her,” he whispered and you felt the warmth of his breath on the sensitive spot he was confessing to. You giggled at the silly man and squirmed with the silent plea for him to stop talking and do more, the bed creaking with the movement. Daniel grabbed your hips and held them still so the bed fell silent before shaking his head with an amused smirk. “Impatient little minx.”

Rather than take the taste you knew he wanted, he flipped you onto your knees and pushed your head into the pillow to silence the sounds that spilled forth as he curled two fingers into your cunt. A few flicks of his wrist were the only preparation he gave your body before his shorts were halfway down his thighs and he replaced his fingers with his cock.

Your pillow heated with the heavy moan that filled it and it grew damp as your teeth clamped down on the satin slip. It had only been three days but the burn of the stretch danced the fine line between pleasure and pain until he reached around your hip and found your clit.

“Fuck you’re tight, kitten,” Daniel grunted, his lip almost bleeding as he bit it to keep quiet and pulled back a little so you could acclimate to his size again. “You okay, baby?”

You answered by pushing yourself back, needing him as much as he needed you, and you relished in the full feeling when your ass met his body. His heavy breathing broke the quiet morning and he covered your back, pressing his lips to your spine and following the line to your neck.

“Lay down for me.”

Unwilling to part with you for a moment, he helped you onto your stomach and carefully shifted until his legs were outside of yours and your thighs pressed together. The pillow muffled your moans as the position increased the feeling of fullness and he rode you with long smooth strokes, keeping the bed from creaking.

“Three days was too much, kitten,” he confessed quietly as he kissed your shoulder. “I can’t go a day without you. Want you with me, always.”

Despite the exhaustion of the late night and early wake up, you weren’t able to get back to sleep, even with Daniel there to spoon you. A knock at your door had put an end to that plan and you were reminded that everyone was getting ready to go to the lake for a day out on the water.

Everyone except Vanessa were surprised to see Daniel joining you for breakfast and you got the best pick of the cooked meal while they all fawned over the celebrity.

“Alright, alright, leave him be,” you said as you moved them along and handed him a plate you had filled before sitting on his lap. Seats were in short supply with so many people coming and going that you were happy to share one. “I know he’s a bit weird but try to treat him normally.”

“Morning, Sugar,” Nessa teased quietly as she took the seat beside him.

“Ness…meet Daniel, officially,” you said, since she had seen him on a video call.

“We met this morning, didn’t we, Sugar? Who do you think let him in? We had a great chat about you.”

She was finding it too amusing and Daniel’s shoulder bounced with a laugh as he stuffed bacon into his mouth to avoid commenting. “I thought you were joking.”

“I told you, cousins always tell the truth,” he chuckled before kissing your cheek. “She didn’t tell me anything new though; I already knew you were smart and beautiful.”

“She was just saying that so she could keep the Givenchy dress she stole.”

“Pfft, not true, but I can totally play it up if you want to part with the Jimmy Choos too.” She turned her attention to Daniel who had been thoroughly enjoying the interaction while idly massaging your hip. “Did she tell you that she climbed up a tree to save a cat? The fire department gave her a medal for it. Or this one time she single-handedly stopped a bank robbery.”

“Oh my god,” you snorted at the absurdity.

“Don’t get me started on how she took down an international crime syndicate with a muscle car.”

“Who am I? Vin Diesel? Just shut up.”

“No, no, give me more,” Daniel encouraged. “I thought Lando was imaginative but this is next level.”

You could see the moment her train of thought was lost and a sly smile grew. “Think you could introduce me?”

“To Lando? No way, you would eat him alive.”

“Come on, I introduced you to Drew so you owe me.” You felt Danny’s hand stop the calming circles and wished she had kept her mouth shut as he asked who Drew was. “Andrew, her first boyfriend, well only boyfriend before you, I thought you would have known, my bad.”

Breakfast was fairly quiet after that and you knew Daniel had questions he was just waiting to ask when he got you alone. Fortunately, you could put them off for a few hours as you all set off to the lake, the distraction of you in a bikini enough to placate him in the meantime.

“So this Andrew…” he stated as he pulled you into his arms and waded out deeper into the warm water. “Why haven’t I heard about him?”

“Because it was years ago?”

“Did you love him?”

“I was 17, I didn’t know what love was,” you laughed as you combed your fingers through his hair. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” he scoffed, but it was clearly a lie.

“Baby, you’re the only man I have ever loved, and the only one I will ever love - with one exception.” His eyes narrowed and you giggled as you kissed his cheek. “If we have a kid someday and it’s a boy, then I would love him too.”

The corners of his eyes wrinkled with the smile that split his face. “I suppose I could live with that.”

“Good, so forget about Andrew. You are everything I want and need.”

“So long as I don’t have to cross paths with the bastard that took your innocence.”

There were only two days left before you flew back to Monaco, what were the chances?

Click here for part seven.

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#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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