hi, so I really want to cry rn.
what if i die
credit !!
me rn^
Congratulations to PEDRO PASCAL on Golden Globe Nomination for Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Television Series - Drama on The Last of Us.
WILD.
CAN YOU MAKE A STORY ABOUT MATT AND HIS GF, THEY HAVE SEX AT A RESTAURANT, SHES SITTING ON HIS LAP AND COCKWARMING AND THEN THEY HAVE CAR SEX AND CHRIS CATCHES THEM THEN WHEN THEY GET BACK TO THE HOUSE CHRIS FUCKS MATTS GF VERY VERY VERY VERY VERY SMUT FILLED
PURE ECSTASY (part one)
read part two here
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bf!soft dom!matt, pervert!dom!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a friend throws a birthday party at the club, but the night doesn’t end there. or with your boyfriend.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, p in v, cockwarming, public sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), slight spit kink, oral (female receiving), getting caught, fingering, finger sucking, cheating (please don’t!), degradation, spanking, choking, sex tape, hair pulling, daddy kink, dumbification, overstimulation, breeding, begging kink, stomach bulge, ROUGHHH ASF
THIS IS NOT A THREESOME!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,017
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: THIS REQUEST😟 (i love it) my new favorite fic holy moly it’s also ovulation week and when that happens i become one with the smut.
hope it’s okay that it’s at a club except restaurant!
for @sturniololovers :)
chatter fills around the booth, and the group gets ready to sit. it’s your friend’s 21st birthday, and of course she chose a club. the volume of the music and drunk people around make it extremely loud that you have to scream to talk to somebody.
purple, blue, and pink lights illuminate throughout the place, and the dance floor is packed with people. most of your friend group already made it to the bar or by the DJ, including nick, madi, and nate. chris sets his jacket down by everybody else’s stuff.
“i’m going to get a pepsi and join the others on the floor. you guys staying here?” he talks over the music, pointing behind him.
“for now.” matt replies, for some reason shimmying in his seat slightly. you shake it off as he tries to get comfortable, waving at chris as he walks off.
the two of you talk, some friends coming and going from the booth to put drinks down or mingle with you guys.
you lean into matt’s side, smiling at what he’s saying. he places his hand on your thigh, making you nuzzle into him more. “sit on my lap.” he says abruptly.
you’re confused, but lift yourself off of the seat to slide yourself to hover over your boyfriend’s lap. he guides your hips down, and you gasp from the sudden stretch.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
his pants were just past his dick, the thing that your sitting on right now. you feel it growing inside you, cockwarming him in the middle of the club. “matt, we’re in public.” you whine.
he only shrugs. the dress you’re wearing is long enough to cover your sides, so if somebody looks over it seems that you’re innocently sitting on his lap.
“love the way you feel.” he groans in your ear, subtly squeezing your tit.
you glance around mortified, wondering if people can see you. the spot you guys chose is against the wall in the back, but it’s not like you’re invisible. “ride my cock, baby.”
this is crazy you think, but still grip onto the edge of the table anyway. you’ve learned your lesson multiple times before whenever you disobeyed matt, and if you did this time, he’ll likely spread you out on the table and fuck you so everybody can purposely see.
you start by grinding, gasping whenever his girth rubs against your walls. the way he feels already has you clenching. your arousal starts to coat his base, a sign for you to start bouncing.
not so hard, but softly. the grip you have on the table help you steady yourself. you can feel your face turning red, still looking around the club through your lashes. you like the thrill of somebody seeing you guys, but it’s also horrifying.
your head falls between your shoulders to hide your face of pleasure. moans lowly fall from your mouth, your eyes rolling back each time his tip brushes against your g-spot. “o-oh, matt, baby.” you moan in a high pitch, biting your lip when somebody walks by.
thank the lord people are too tipsy or distracted to look over here. you shake in his lap, another pitched moan flowing through the air. you exhale, lifting your head so it rests on the side of matt’s cheek.
he kisses your temple. “go ahead, baby. cum on my cock.”
whimpering, your orgasm washes through your body and onto his dick. you sigh of relief, catching your breath at the same time. “gonna cum in this beautiful cunt.” matt grunts when he twitches inside you.
you squirm, mumbling something along the lines of it spilling out of you. “don’t worry about that, honey. i’ll take care of it soon.”
the bottom of your dress is hoisted past your stomach, matt’s hold on your legs firm as you’re spread out in the backseat of the minivan.
by ‘taking care of it soon’, he meant cleaning it up for you.
the club’s music still bumps to the beat of the song it’s playing, even if you guys are in the parking lot.
you twitch beneath him, your eyes crossing and mouth agape. his tongue works wonders between your legs. you still feel sensitive from your previous orgasm from inside the club, the same orgasm that leaks around his lips as he digs into your needy hole.
soft moans and whimpers escape you, the windows fogging up from the heavy breathing and sweat.
he pulls away, bringing his face to hover over yours. he’s smiling foolishly at your trance. your arousal glistens around his mouth, his hair disheveled. “think you can take me again?”
you grip onto his biceps when he starts railing into you, your face scrunching up. you squeeze your eyes shut, but they open as soon as his hand grabs your jaw. “open your mouth.”
you obey, and he spits in it before kissing you open-mouthed. he consumes your sounds, the way your bodies are conjoined causes a slap noise every time his hips meet your pelvis.
bang bang bang.
the both of you jump at the fist hitting against the window, stopping in position. even though the windows are fogged, matt can tell who it is.
he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “what do you want, chris? we’re kind of in the middle of something, here.”
“stop fucking and open the goddamn door. i need my chapstick.” there’s silence. “and don’t be naked.”
matt pulls your dress down, zippering his pants. he crawls to the front seat to unlock the door.
the door immediately swings open, chris leaning on the passenger's side to grab his chapstick that’s in the cup holder.
you tap your fingers on your chest, patiently waiting for this weird encounter to be over. you see chris in your vision, looking at you. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes scan your body, but you’re not entirely sure.
“sorry to break this up but you guys need to head back in. everybody’s looking for you,” he says before leaving.
what a buzzkill.
lil skies music blasts throughout the house, scaring you awake from your sleep. it’s the early morning, around 3 AM.
you’re spending the night at the triplet’s house, your dress now substituted with one of matt’s shirts. you must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because once you adjust to the dark you realize you’re in the living room.
you check your phone, squinting at the sudden brightness.
my boy💙
went out on a long drive, i’ll pick up some mcdonald’s when i’m on my way back :)
2:47 AM
and you know nick’s staying over at madi’s tonight, so the culprit for the disruption is no other than chris sturniolo.
you groggily lift yourself off the couch, shuffling your way down the hall. you don’t bother knocking, and you make your way into chris’s room. his back is facing you, the tone in his muscles showing.
you clench your thighs without knowing.
he’s doing something on his phone when you mumble, but he clearly can’t hear you.
“can you turn that down? i’m trying to sleep,” you say louder, and he turns his head to you. he pauses the music, walking over.
“what?”
“please lower that. you woke me up,” you say lowly, staring at your feet.
he chuckles. “sorry.”
he takes his finger and lifts your chin so you look at him, his eyes set on your mouth as he takes his thumb and grazes it over your bottom lip. “you’re not as much of a prude as i thought.”
“e-excuse me?!” you stutter shockingly, another chuckle coming from the boy.
“you think i don’t know that you rode my brother in the middle of the club? then you guys went to the car to finish the job, no?”
your face goes pale. you understand how he knows about the car since he caught you guys, but not when you were at the club.
“h-how do you—”
“i observe.” he cuts you off. “i watched the way you bounced on his dick. can’t forget the pretty sounds i heard from the cracked window matt forgot to close.”
your cheeks become hot, your thighs yet again squeezing tight.
“thank you.” chris smiles at the bartender, spinning himself in the barstool to look around the club. this isn’t quite his scene, but he couldn’t miss out on a friend’s birthday.
he sips his pepsi, his elbow resting on the bar’s surface before landing his eyes on where your guy’s seats are.
you’re bouncing subtly on matt’s lap, face turning in different expressions.
chris grabs his crotch, his dick twitching in his pants as it threatens to grow at the sight. he’s not stupid and knows exactly what you’re doing.
his brother whispers something into your ear before placing you back next to him and taking your hand to walk out of the building.
he waits a few minutes before following you guys, leaving a tip for the bartender before doing so.
the van catches his eye instantly, the windows slowly becoming fogged and moans echoing in the air. your moans, the moans he wants to cause more than anything.
his plan to not get hard fails when his pants tighten, the sinful sounds becoming more intense when the car starts to rock.
before he knows it, he’s jogging over and banging on the window.
“you-you pervert!” you shout, wanting to remove chris’ stupid thumb from your lips; but you don’t. he hums, leaning to where his lips ghost yours.
“yet you’re turned on by it.” he whispers. “you’re telling me you’re not dripping between your legs right now?”
“i-i’m not.”
he takes his other hand and reaches under the shirt, his theory confirmed true.
he smirks. you’re not wearing any panties.
the same smirk matt had in the club when he realized you were bare underneath. your boyfriend matt. his fucking brother.
pull yourself together, y/n.
“you sure?” chris says, passionately connecting his lips with yours. he rubs two fingers on your slick slit, your breath hitching.
pull. yourself. together. y/n.
he rubs once more before inserting the fingers into you, making you break the kiss and moan pathetically.
the thumb that was on your lip now goes into your mouth, and you suck on it. your hands bunch on his chest.
he lifts one of your legs to make his fingers plunge deeper into you, curling to hit the right spot. the leg he’s holding quivers desperately. “is the needy bitch going to cum on my fingers?”
you hum approvingly on his thumb before he removes it, your eyes never leaving contact with his. you tense, smearing your white liquid on his fingers.
brain foggy, you grumble two syllables. he heard you right, but wants to hear it loud and clear. “what was that?”
“fuck me.”
because he certainly doesn’t have to be told twice, he picks you up and props your ass up on his mattress.
he unties his plaid pajama bottoms, grabs your neck, and shoves your face into the pillows. he smacks your ass. hard.
“such a bad girl.” he slaps again, aligning his tip with your entrance. “gonna let me fuck you, even though you’re dating my brother.”
he spanks you three more times, tears building up in your eyes from the pleasurable pain. you grip onto the pillows when he starts to slowly fill you.
you utterly hate to admit this, but he’s bigger than matt. you gasp loudly, your pussy morphing into the shape of his dick when he’s in.
he throws his head back, eyes closed as he smiles smugly. he’s been wanting to do this for months.
his hips start rutting into you harshly, squeals leaving your lips the deeper he gets.
it gets to the point where he pulls out to just the tip and slams back into you. he repeats this action over and over again.
you bite down on the pillow to suppress your loud moans, the headboard banging against the wall.
he squeezes your throat tighter. “you filthy fucking thing.”
his hand meets your asscheek once again, and your body shakes from a sob. “he-e’s coming— back— soon.” you manage to say between whines.
“good.” his tip reaches your spot, your toes curling at the bliss. “maybe he can walk in to see his girl creaming all over my cock instead of his.”
once he said that you smear your release around him. his jaw slacks, quickly grabbing his phone that he threw on the bed the moment you came in.
you came in just as he was about to pull up your instagram — like he always does — whenever he needs something to masturbate to.
this, however, is so much better.
“c-cumming inside you.” he moans lowly, shooting his load deep into you.
his thrusts become slow, panning the camera to the mess you guys just made. “christ.” he whispers, pulling out to watch you leak his cum. “look at that.”
you’re not able to catch your breath when he’s fucking into you again. this time, faster.
hoarsely whimpering, he removes the hand from your neck and instead grabs your hair. he pulls your head up from the pillows, your moans now echoing throughout the room.
chris brings the camera in front of your face so you can see yourself.
you’re completely wrecked, strands of hair that he’s not holding all up in your face. your mouth’s open wide, spit dangling from your bottom lip and onto the sheets below. eyes rolling back when that familiar spot gets hit, spilling tears.
“say hi to matt, ma.”
“mm— h-hi matt,” you say incoherently, chris letting go of your hair, your head falling face down back on the pillows.
he brings the phone to his face, still drilling into you like he’s never going to stop.
he grins at the camera, lips swollen and red. “this pussy’s fucking incredible. thanks for letting me use her, man.”
he props his phone against the lamp on his nightstand, making sure to have a good angle. especially of the shirt you're wearing, specifically matt’s pink shirt with a teddy bear on it. the shirt that he loves on you.
“daddy!” you whimper, too late to take it back. “g-gonna cum, daddy.”
you let out a series of scream-like moans, chris hissing from the back.
“fuck, don’t do that to me.” he exhales, throbbing in your cunt. “you’re so fucking tight. all of this cum for me?”
“ah— mhm!” you choke out.
chris isn’t so far behind, but he wants to hold it for his own sake.
he turns your head on its side so you can look at the camera once again, his hand returning to your throat. “see that? this is exactly what the whore needs to look like.” he says into the phone as if he’s talking to someone. as if he’s talking to matt. “no thought in that brain except the feeling of a cock fucking the shit out of her; until she begs you to stop.”
he knew that the last part of that sentence was coming soon because your eyes were starting to close.
your pussy pulses, another orgasm threatening to escape. you try to crawl out of his grip, but he pushes you back onto him more. this brand new spot he’s hitting has you seeing stars.
“don’t run from me now, my dirty little cumslut.” he pants, looking at the dick imprint inside your abdomen. “holy shit. you’re fucking bulging.”
“please, daddy!” you mewl. “s-stop! it’s too much, chris—” he squeezes your ass, catching your mistake. “daddy! to-too much!”
in all honesty, you’re not exactly sure if you really want him to stop.
“i know, angel. just a few more minutes, okay? i know you have one more. what are we at, four now?”
“gonna cum nice and deep in ya, so you’ll be walking around for days with a swollen belly full of it.” his hand makes contact with your ass, your eyes shooting open. it has to be bruised at this point. “this is exactly how sluts like you should be treated. isn’t that right?”
“ngh— y-yes, daddy. cum in m-me, please.”
your body weakens, becoming limp. you’re in an overwhelming amount of pleasure you can’t even moan anymore. instead, you pant like a dog and stick your tongue out because of the overstimulation. your body rocks at the inhuman pace he’s going. your vision starts to fade, like you’re going to pass out.
pure ecstasy, is what it is.
his thrusts become sloppy, slowing down before coming to a halt. he moans, the feeling of his sticky substance filling your womb. “thank you, daddy. thank you, thank you!” you chant, eyes closing.
he pulls out slowly, the squelching noise music to his ears. there’s a string of cum connecting from his tip to your cum-filled cunt.
he takes his phone, doing a shot of the way your abused hole swallows his ropes of white. “this pussy let me breed you real nice.”
spreading your folds to do one final show of his cum spewing out, you jolt from the sensitivity of his finger pushing it back inside you. poor thing, red and swollen. the flutter of it making it easier for his orgasm to spill out. he ends the video, whispering praises into your ear while kissing your face.
you hear a camera click behind you as he snaps a quick photo of the disgusting mess you two made. the smell of sex floods your nostrils.
chris isn’t that much of an asshole to where he’ll actually send the video to matt. he’s cocky, only having the sex tape to himself to jerk off to. it’ll boost his ego tremendously, that’s for sure.
what’s in the back of his mind is if matt pisses him off in the slightest, he’ll have no problem showing him what his girlfriend looks like clamping down on his brother’s dick.
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @rootbeerworshiper @heartlessturniolos @chrisloyalgf @yoinkurnanuhoe @smoothies-are-cool @strtuniolo @1800chokedathoe @sturniolowhore @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani
oh he was DEF giving daddy
masterlist !
NEVER BE LIKE YOU, chris sturniolo
synopsis… ( based on this ask ) or in which you used to treat chris terribly in highschool, now you’ve graduated and matured but you weren’t the only one who’s changed
warnings… mentions of bullying, rough sex, semi-public sex, degrading, edging, overstimulation, mean!chris, former bully!reader, creampie, perv!chris if you squint
you used to tell yourself that you would never go for matt and nick’s little brother. yes, you know that they are triplets but chris always seem’d so childish and annoying in your eyes. he used to trail after you like a pet and make stupid flirty comments or compliments.
you thought that chris sturniolo was thee most aggravating person to walk the planet. yet here you were staring at him from across the room. you nudged your friend, “hey when did chris get so cute?” you whispered. your friend shot you a deadpanned expression then rolled her eyes. “after graduation, guess he decided to do the whole glow up thing” she responds.
chris used to be the scrawny kid with messy short hair. now his curls framed his face in a godly way and whenever he moved a certain way, his muscles and veins flexed. you also noticed that when you walked into the house, he didn’t even acknowledge you like he used to.
“why do you care?”
“hm?”
“i said why do you care anyways, didn’t you used to hate him or some shit?”
you shrugged your shoulders. no secret that you used to practically torture the poor boy as if he was some servant or lapdog. chris used to do literally anything if it ment you would reward him even if the gift was as small as allowing him to hold your hand for five seconds. it was laughable at the time the way he acting like a wounded puppy whenever you got mad at him for the slightest thing.
your heart started racing when he looked up and stared dead into your eyes. those blue eyes that you used to not care for now made your body feel heated and achy. you broke contact as you felt your thighs squeeze for some type of relief. “m’gonna go to the bathroom” you mumbled to your friend as you got up.
you looked over yourself in the mirror. you always took pride into your appearance, a habit that stuck since high school. you turned around and opened the door but was shocked when met with chris looking down on his phone.
“uhm, hey” you quietly say causing him to look up at you. a small smirk appeared on his face as he turned his phone off and leans onto the door frame. “hi” he replied. you tried going past him but was pushed back into the bathroom. chris closes the door behind him with the lock without breaking eye contact.
“what are you doing” you say cautiously ask as you look between him and the door. chris shrugs, “just thought i’d talk to you for a sec” he says. as chris walks closer to you, you walk backwards till your back brushes the sink. chris traps you with his hands on either side of you as he looks down with a mischievous smile.
“never thought i’d see that day where little miss royalty would get so nervous around me” he laughs. your breath started to pick up as he leans down closer and closer till your lips brush. you squealed in surprise when chris roughly turns you around so you were leaning on the sink with your back facing him.
you felt him breathing down your neck as his hands lightly trailed down your sides. you let out a sigh and let your head drop back onto his shoulder while your eyes closed. chris starts chuckling then removes his hands. “remember when you used to make me do your homework just so i could sit next to you?” he asks.
you opened you eyes and look at him with a sad expression. “m’sorry for treating you like that back then” you say in a small voice. chris roughly grabs your waist and pushes you off him. you gasped as you felt him bring your hips to meet his growing bulge. “i saw you staring at me earlier” he says, “didn’t know you let yourself go enough to want to fuck a loser” he sneered. you frowned to yourself at the memory.
“be serious for a second chris. i’d never fuck a loser like you” you laughed.
you couldn’t lie, you were a regina george back then. chris was such a sweet guy to you too, he always treated you like a princess even though you already had the royal status at school. you were his number one priority and you took advantage of that. you used him back then. now it was his turn to use you.
you bit your lip to hide the moan as chris grinded your lower half’s together. “chris everyone’s out there” you reminded him. chris laughs, “don’t be loud then. unless you want them to hear you act like a whore” he taunts. your dress was pushed up and your laced underwear was yanked down.
“who knew your clothes could get even more slutty after high school” chris grumbled. you always wore clothes that would be at the brink of the dress code. now that those bullshit rules can’t effect you, you wore even more revealing stuff whenever you didn’t have any important place to go to.
your breath hitched as you felt his thumb swipe the arousal from your folds. you looked up to the mirror infront of you as you saw chris suck his thumb off with a groan erupting from his throat. “waiting so long to taste you” he whispered. he brought his hand back down and inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt as he bit his lip.
you moaned as you locked eyes with him in the mirror then brought your hand up to cover your mouth. chris smiled as he worked his fingers in a rapid pace, not caring for how hard it was for you to keep your voice as low as possible. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.
but chris saw your pleasured expression. he yanked his fingers out of you and slapped your ass. you whined at the lost feeling then whimpered as you felt chris get a tight hold on your hair, yanking your head back. “you don’t deserve to fucking cum” he grunted in your ear.
chris pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock. a sigh of relief fell from his lips as he stroked himself slightly. he lined himself up to your wet hole then pushed in with slight aggression. a muffled moan left your mouth as you tightened the hand that covered it .
you heard chris breathing heavily and felt his fingers dig into your skin. he moved his hips slightly as if he was testing the waters meanwhile you were using his delay as time to try adjusting to his size. chris was definitely bigger than any other guy you fucked and you were starting to regret not taking his offer for a date two years ago.
as soon as chris decided that he was ready, he rocked his hips slowly then picked up the pace. his thrust were aggressive. harsh. needy. as if he wanted to fuck his anger into you. but also can’t get enough of you. you had one hand trying to balance yourself on the sink counter while the other still covered the moans and whimpers that fell from your lips.
“waiting so fucking long to stretch this pussy” he groans. somehow the aggression grew more rough and since chris was already a bit too big, it felt like he was abusing your cunt. you took your hand off your mouth then reached back to try to push him away. chris laughs as he roughly pins your hand onto the counter.
“are you trying to run from me? thought this is what you wanted” he snarled, “i always give you want you want, don’t i? fucking spoiled brat” his voice was laced with venom. you felt your eyes water but couldn’t tell if it was from pain, pleasure, or regret.
“mhm chris!” you squealed as you felt him brush your cervix. you caught a glimpse of his face, a smile as he bit his lip while watching you through the mirror. “‘member when you called me a whiny bitch? look at you now, crying on my dick” he laughs. you close your eyes as the vivid memory flashed into your brain.
“but you promised” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry you whiny bitch” you mocked.
“m’sorry! m’so sorry!” you cried. your knuckles grew white as your grip on the counter tightened. the familiar knot in your stomach reappeared, this time even tighter than before. “ch-chris! gonna cum!” you warned. his cock didn’t stop ramming into your now puffy cunt. “yeah? gonna make a mess on me?” he muttered.
you nodded repeatedly as you felt your self at the brink of an orgasm. your vision went blurry with white splotches as you felt yourself release on chris’s cock. “t-to much..” you tried saying in shaken voice. you couldn’t even breathe properly, it felt like he was rearranging your guts. the overstimulation was overwhelming but fuck it felt so good.
it finally dawned on you that this wasn’t for your pleasure but his. chris was actively using you as a sleeve to wet his dick and to get back at you for all those years. you felt him pull you closer as if he was hugging you from the back. you felt his sweaty forehead touching the back of your neck.
“finally get to fill you up- fuck” he moaned as you found yourself coming to your second orgasm. with the rest of your strength, you slammed your hand onto the counter as you felt yourself somewhat peeing on him. you heard chris whimpering as he tightened his hold on you and tried pulling you closer.
a series of curses left his mouth as his load pumped into you with sloppy thrust. you couldn’t help letting out a loud moan as chris gives you one final harsh thrust before pulling out. you felt your knees buckle after chris removes himself from you. you watched through your wet lashes as he fixes his clothes and pockets your underwear.
as chris exits the bathroom, you tried lifting yourself up with the help of the counter. you felt the thick sticky mixture of your fluids and his load dripping out of you. through the crack of the door you heard matt telling chris that everyone else left to get food then asked why you both took so long to which chris replied by saying ‘you needed help in the bathroom’.
xoxo, kairo
anthony lockwood 🤝 kaz brekker 🤝 kai azer 🤝being shit at using endearment terms for the loves of their lives
i need this man so BADLY.
— Finally
pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ percy jackson x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ you and percy confess to each other after an argument while you both fought a monster.
warnings ✧˖ ° violence (they are fighting a monster), making out in the middle of a fight, curse words.
m. list, main m.list.
"you do know that this is all your fault, right?" percy yelled at you as you both fought the scythian dracanae side by side.
"my fault? what the fuck are you—" you looked at him in disbelief but then regretted doing so when the she-monster took the opportunity to take a swing at you with one of her serpent trunks.
percy deflected the attack that was made towards you, pushing you out of the way. "stay focus!" he yelled.
"i will when you stop blaming every misfortune on me!" you yelled and attacked the female reptile.
"sssssstop, your argument givessss me a headache!" the monster demanded.
"you can get headaches?" percy asked with a chuckled.
you couldn't deny that it sounded so goddamn attractive, and it made you more mad than you were already.
"shut up, percy." you told him. "stay focus, remember?"
"here you go again." he complained, now fighting the dracanae on his own as you were knocked off your feet. "you okay?"
"yes, i'm okay." you answered, just laying there for a second going over memories of decisions you had made and regretting them before standing back up and holding onto your sword tightly.
"good, because you keep getting distracted. stop that or you will get yourself killed."
this bitch.
you rolled your eyes but he was right, you needed to stay focus on the fight. you briefly wondered why it was taking so long since percy was an excellent fighter and he could've killed the dracanae in five minutes flat.
"why. haven't. you. kill. this. thing." you panted out, landing a blow after each word.
"i don't know, maybe i wanted to spend time with you." he said sarcastically or at least you thought it was.
"very funny." you said dryly, why did he have to play with you like that.
"is not a joke though." percy said, feeling a bust of courage.
your head snapped to him so fast that you thought you might have gotten whiplash. "what?"
"look, i know this isn't the most convenient moment to say this but i’m full of adrenaline so imma take the chance to tell you that i like you." percy sighed and stopped fighting.
the dracanae stood there staring at the scene of you two completely forgetting about her.
"unfortunately for you..." you made a face, just for the drama of it and watched percy's face slowly fall. "i like you too."
percy let out a dry chuckle, throwing his head back with another sigh then shaking his head. "i hate you so much..." he mumbled then walked to you.
he grabbed your face between his hands and attached his lips to yours. you dropped your sword, putting your arms around his neck and kissing him back with as much passion as he was. it was so addicting, the smell of sea salt and the taste of blueberries of his lips was driving you crazy from just a few seconds of kissing.
you two separated then leaned back in after taking a few deep breath's, this was exactly what you needed right now. you could kiss him all day and not get tired of it. his hands came down from your face to your neck, to your shoulder until they rested against your hips.
"how dare you two do thissssss infront of me!! thisss issss—" the dracanae got interrupted by the humidity coming off the ground and turning to water that engulfed around her, drowning her voice inside of it.
you unfortunately couldn't see that at the time because you were too busy kissing percy jackson, your boyfriend? maybe.
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 (𝒏𝒐𝒕) 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 | 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐
𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉… you slowly start avoiding being home and your boyfriend notices, resulting in an argument.
ballerina!reader x undergroundfighter!matt, angst, crying, cursing, fighting, mention of violence, lowkey toxic matt
2.7k words
“when are you coming home?” , “are you back yet?” , “it’s getting late, where are you?” , the three questions that you heard the most coming from matt. you didn’t know if he was asking them out of genuine concern or just to be the controlling boyfriend he had become, although you tend to think it was the second option. he wasn’t like this when you met him, when you fell in love with him. but the once loving and thoughtful boyfriend that he was had vanished some months ago.
youtube wasn’t paying nearly as much as it used to for matt and his triplet brothers, their prime time was long gone and their audience had moved on to the next big thing, leaving them with no choice but finding a side hustle to get by. while chris and nick had found some decently normal jobs, chris working for a music production company while nick found a photography gig, matt had had a harder time finding a job. nothing seemed fitting enough for him, going from modeling to graphic designing for video games he couldn’t seem to find the right fit for him.
you supported him through the whole process, using your free time between college and rehearsals to help him look at thousands of job offers online. your earnings as a dancer and matt’s savings couldn’t support you guys forever, and you both knew that. it wasn’t long before matt got frustrated and abandoned his quest for work, choosing to go for something a little more easy. and illegal.
on a random friday night a few months ago matt had come home late, with busted knuckles and a slight cut on the top of his lip. he kept insisting that he was fine, to stop asking questions, until he snapped at you to leave him alone and stop being pushy about it. the next day, the two of you got into an argument, then matt finally admitted to have turned to underground fighting at a nearby private club.
you tried your best to reason with him, telling him he didn’t have to put his life on the line to keep you guys afloat with money, that you could manage to get more opportunities for bigger ballet productions and get a better earning or that he could simply find a safer job. he didn’t want to hear any of it though, his decision was final and you couldn’t do anything to change his mind.
at first, matt just seemed exhausted and in pain every time he’d come home. you did your best to try and support him, taking care of him when he got home and doing everything in the house to ease his mind. the more time passed, the more matt came home with an attitude, cursing at you and getting mad at the slightest thing being off, on top of that he had started drinking. his constant yelling and controlling behavior is what drove a ledge between you two, and it wasn’t long until you couldn’t take it anymore.
late night dance practices became an almost daily thing. you did not want to be home. from the moment your classes ended, until late at night you’d be at the dance studio. the older, cold lady that had been teaching you ballet for the better part of your life took a notice in how often you’d stay late, in an empty studio either dancing, rehearsing or doing your homework, pointes, sewing kit and textbooks splattered everywhere across the floor. one night she finally decided to ask you about it, and after explaining to her that things at home haven’t been easy, she took it upon herself to always reserve an empty studio for you to hang out in for as long as you needed. that place easily became your new safe place, and you were barely ever home anymore.
it took matt a lot longer than you wished it would to realize that you weren’t ever really around anymore. it was almost always past ten pm when you’d walk in, careful to not make much noise and tiptoeing to your guys' shared room. you’d put your things down and take a shower, heading straight to bed and avoiding any attempt at small talk that matt would make, knowing it almost always ended with him getting pissed. he was rarely mad at you, but whatever it was that ticked him off, he’d take it out on you. the nights that you were home before him, you’d already be fast asleep when he walked through the door.
for the first few months, he did believe your countless excuses; that you just got more busy on a production, that you stayed at the library late to study for exams, that your instructor made you stay at the studio longer, but the more time passed, the less he believed you.
it was monday night and for the first time in what felt like forever, matt was seated at the kitchen table with two plates of food when you walked in. it took you a minute to process, but when you did look up at his face a sudden gasp left your mouth. his white tee was covered in platters of blood and dirt, his lip was bleeding and a black eye was starting to form on his left eye. he looked worse than you’d ever seen him.
you took a step toward the table, walking slowly not daring to look him in the eye.
matt cleared his throat, “you never answered my text.”
you finally look up, almost shocked that he spoke this softly to you. “sorry, they had me stay a bit longer at the studio”, the lie rolled off your tongue easily.
he nodded slowly, “right”, he paused for a second, “they have you doing this a lot lately.”
you wondered where he was going with this, but chose to answer short, not wanting this conversation to go where all the others before went, “i got a role in a pretty big production, i have to put in a little more work to keep it”. that wasn’t a total lie, you did score a leading role in the swan lake production taking place at the local studio next spring and there was a lot of work to put in.
“you didn’t tell me that”, matt said, “i don’t know why i’m surprised, you never tell me anything anymore”.
a frown takes over your face, “that’s not-”
matt suddenly interrupts you, “it is true. don’t play dumb”, you can tell he’s getting agitated, “you’ve been avoiding being home, or anywhere near me like the plague, y/n.”
you shake your head, not really knowing how to answer because you know that he’s right. you’ve been doing everything in your power to avoid him, not because you don’t love him, but because you don’t love who he’s become. the short-tempered, always angry at everything matt that sat in front of you was not the same matt that you knew and loved. he felt like a stranger.
you chose to sit down in the chair opposite of him, not sure how to approach the conversation that you knew was necessary to have, “i don’t want to argue, matt.”
he huffs, shaking his head lightly, “i just want to know why you’re never home. we haven’t spent time together in months, hell i can’t even remember the last time we fucked, not that it matters.”
you swallow hard. “you’ve changed matt, and i don’t want to blame it all on you but i can’t recognize you anymore,” you let out a shaky breath, tucking some hair behind your ear, “you’re always getting mad, raising your voice at me for no reason. you know i can’t handle the yelling.”
matt looks down at his lap for a split second, “i know i’ve been loosing my temper lately, but this can’t be the only reason why you spend all of your time away,” his blue eyes fixates on you, “is there someone else?”
the gasp that leaves your mouth is loud. you can’t believe that he’d think you’d have met someone else.
“no, god no. there is no one else, i promise matt,” you look up at him, “i can’t bear the constant being mad and fighting. every time i come home, you’re moody and hurt, i can’t handle that.”
you feel the tears start to gather in your eyes, and try to blink them away but there’s no use. you feel your face getting hot and your hands are sweating, this conversation might’ve been needed but it doesn’t mean you’re enjoying it.
“being hurt is part of my job, y/n. i can’t prevent it from happening and i can’t stop fighting,” matt says, his voice raising slightly, “the money is good and i’m doing this for us, you have to understand that.”
this has you getting up from your chair, “don’t put this on us matt. you had a choice, you could’ve worked a normal job, but you chose to put yourself in this position,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “and i don’t care if you make millions, no amount of money is worth your life.”
“i don’t know in what kind of fairytale you think we’re in, but believe it or not, we need money to keep having a roof over our heads and food on the table.” matt is still sitting, in an almost nonchalant matter.
this sets you off, because if there is one person here that is painfully aware of this, its you. within seconds you're out of the kitchen, speed walking towards your guy’s shared bedroom. in a hurry, you grab your baby pink duffel bag from the closet and throw it on the bed. your grabbing whatever clothes you have in sight, as well as your cosmetics bag and your charger. by the time you’re going over to the bathroom to grab more stuff, matt waltzes in.
“what are you even doing with that?” he says looking around at the mess you’re making, grabbing and shoving everything you can fit in your bag.
you spin to face him, your hair whipping him in the chest, “i can’t do this anymore,’ you say brokenly, “i can’t keep watching you get hurt and taking it out on me anymore.”
his face soften slightly, “angel, come on don’t do this,” he reaches towards you but you step back, not feeling strong enough to have him close. “where are you even planning to go, uh?”
tears of rage starts going down your cheeks rapidly, your hands are slightly shaking because he does have a point, you have nowhere to go. your family lives hours away and you wouldn’t know who else to turn to. and he knows it.
“i’ll figure it out.” you let out harshly, pushing past him towards the bathroom.
matt follows in tow, almost desperate to have you stay, “you can’t leave, y/n.”
you keep grabbing things from the vanity, not daring to look at him knowing it’ll make you even more emotional, “why, uh? i can’t keep living like this, i feel like a disturbance in my own house,” you keep going, “everything i say ticks you off, you’re always raising your voice and belittling me.”
at that, he stays silent. “you’re never affectionate with me anymore. you don’t pay attention to me, we don’t even act like a couple anymore.” you wipe your cheeks, “you’re always in pain, i know it’s uncomfortable but you don’t even let me help. you just tell me to leave you alone. it’s killing me, matt.”
“is this really how i make you feel?” matt whispers quietly.
you finally turn to look at him not expecting to see his glassy eyes and a pained expression forming across his face, as if he’s been stabbed in the chest. he’s holding his breath waiting for your answer, already knowing it.
“yes,” you say in a small voice, leaning against the marble counter.
suddenly, matt turns around, muttering a barely audible sorry and leaves. seconds later you hear the front door close and his car speeding out of the driveway. sliding down the wall to the cold tiles of the bathroom, you let out a sob that you didn’t know you were holding.
you stay there for what feels like hours, just sobbing with your face in your hands, still clad in your light pink leotard and a pair of grey joggers, sitting on the cold floor. after a while, exhaustion takes over and you slump over, falling asleep.
you feel yourself getting lifted up, causing you to stir and rub your eyes. “matt?” you ask, visibly confused.
“shh, go back to sleep,” matt says, dropping a kiss on your forehead and setting you on the clean bed and putting the covers over you.
you sit up, “where did you go?” you take a good look at him, he’s definitely not wearing the blood splattered shirt from earlier and his face is cleaned up, making him look a bit less disheveled.
matt sits on the edge of the bed, taking your duffel bag from earlier and putting it on the floor, “i went to see nick and chris. i needed their advice.”
this peaks your interest, “advice on what?”
“on how to make you stay.” he’s looking at you with so much purpose, “i’ll put in the effort, i’ll go back to therapy and learn how to deal with my emotions, but you can’t leave me.”
suddenly it hits you. you see a glimpse of the matt you’ve been missing. the matt you fell in love with.
without leaving you any time to speak, he continues, “i’ve been the worst boyfriend ever lately, but i promise, i’ll keep myself in check and i’ll fix this. just please, give me the chance to do it.”
he hesitantly put his tattooed hand on your thigh, and for the first time in months, you feel relaxed because you know that he meant every word he just said.
“you can’t let it get this bad again matt,” you cover his hand with yours, “love is not easy, we both know it, but you have to let me be there for you.”
he nods fast, “i know. i was just in so much pain, and it made me feel weak because i see you suffer every day, dancing until your feet are bleeding and your ankles ache and you never complain.”
“you can’t compare yourself to me, baby,” you lift yourself on your knees, passing a hand through his dark hair, “and you can’t keep me from taking care of you. that’s what i’m here for.”
he puts a gentle hand on your cheek, caressing it tenderly before speaking up, “i’m so sorry for treating you like this my love. i hate myself for making you feel this awful.”
you lean in, pressing a sweet kiss to his plump lips and leaning back to look into his eyes, “i know you matt. i know this wasn’t intentional.”
“i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” he tugs you onto his lap, hugging you to his chest and letting out a breath of relief.
the two of you stay like this for a while, bathing in each other’s embrace until matt speaks up again, “congrats on that big production, baby.”
a huge smile takes over your face, “you won’t even believe what it is.”
his eyebrows shoot up, “what is it?”
your eyes are sparkling as you tell him that you’ll be performing as the lead in swan lake for all of next spring.
“no way,” he shakes his head, smiling at you like a fool, “this is huge, you’re a star.”
you tackle him onto the bed, smiling and being so happy to have your matt back.
© mattsangel
𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆; this lowkey sucks, i’m just getting back into writing fics as i was previously writing on wattpad! i really hope you guys like this one, let me know if we want more of ballerina!reader, i love writing her as i am myself a ballet dancer and it feeds my delusions lol. don’t forget to leave some suggestions for either blurbs, headcanons or oneshots in my asks! love you all x
As #Kinktober is upon us, I want to take this time to remind everyone that certain things may not carry the same "sexy" connotation for everyone! This isn't just a "your yuck is my yum" situation, this is a "hey, you're being racist" situation. Now if that's what you enjoy, I can't tell you otherwise. But if you'd like to be considerate towards your Black readers and peers, here are *some* (not all!) things to keep in mind:
1) Objectification is not respect. You can think Black people are sexy- I certainly do! That does not mean treating us like sex toys. An example: if your first thought when you look at a Black male character, is "This'll be good smut, I bet his dick is gigantic"- if your first thought is about their genitals and that they're a good fuck... That is weird. Abeg. Nothing else stood out to you? Just ye olde "Black men have big dicks?"
There's a racist and dehumanizing history behind the oversexualization of Black men, Black bodies in general. Sure, big penises are not insulting or bad, but just as you don't want to be brought down to your bits... Don't do it to us. We can be sexy without being objectified. You can think we're sexy without objectifying us!
2) Making your Black character more sexually aggressive (if fic: -than their canon counterpart). Your Black character having a high libido is fine, but if you've essentially written a sex pest, especially in comparison to a nonblack counterpart... Why? Why do you think that they're automatically the one that would be like that? One example of that is the whole "step on me mommy" thing with confidently sexy Black women. What makes you deem she's the "aggressive" one? She could be a gentle pillow princess.
3) Making your Black character more physically hulking (if fic: -than their canon counterpart). They don't look like that, you know they don't look like that, and you need to consider why you felt the need. Especially in comparison to their nonblack counterparts.
4) Chains and whips, Specifically the large, hulking Black or Brown character in chains held by a skinny white character. Especially if they're like a werewolf. You know why these visuals can be questionable! I know the intended symbolism is supposed to be steamy and animalistic, a bodice ripper deal. But think about it- how often have you seen the opposite- with a skinny Black person holding a hulking, animalistic white person in chains? What imagery are we evoking when we draw this, constantly? We are not animals, we are not raging, uncontrollable sex beasts.
Consensual sex and kink are supposed to involve respect between all parties. Respect, communication, vulnerability, and trust. You can have an interesting, sexually active, high libido, kinky Black character without morphing them a stereotype to be used for the sexual satisfaction of white viewers. Just as white people that do kink are humans with inner lives, so are we. Do better by your Black characters, and your Black readers, by showing us that respect. 👍🏾