#giovanni the domenico’s coffee husband

[glassbxttless]

Giovanni (bk joe guy) Moretti x Reader

Word Count: 1,001

Warnings: f!reader, wedding, marriage, garter toss

Notes: The title means, “Long Live the Newlyweds,” in Italian! For Writer’s Wednesday, 16 June 2021. Here’s my (late as usual) contribution, @autumnleaves1991-blog @clydesducktape

Giovanni is stressed to say the least. He’s worried about getting the family to the Tuscan countryside in time. He’s worried about everyone missing their flights. He’s worried you won’t want to marry him the closer your wedding gets. He’s lost in preparation, making sure he’s got the flowers ordered and that he’s enlisted his sister for wedding photos at a decent price.

But you spend the time leading up to your special day, being fussed over by Mama Moretti and Gio’s nonna. You’re reassured that there are plenty of wedding traditions in Italia and that some of them have made their way into your wedding. Your big ruffled black gown and pretty little white hat marks tradition in the countryside where your ceremony is being held— Tuscany. You smile as the photo of you and Gio illuminates the lock screen of your phone. Everything is falling into place. You answer the phone quietly and smile, “yes, my love?” You chuckle— sitting in the salon to get your nails done.

“Your dresses arrived.” He smiles softly, “where would you like them?”

“Just put them in our room for now. Don’t peek.” You remind him, smiling. Your heart feels so full when you think of marrying Giovanni. He’s been your rock for ten years now, the person you could always go to. And now he’s fronting this beautiful ceremony for you, complete with two dresses and headpieces. The flowers, venue, everything you can think of was taken care of by the Moretti’s before your family even stepped in on wedding planning. Your ceremony dress is exquisite, beautiful, holds that color so well. But the reception dress— it’s much more extravagant, a bright white. Your veil is long. A meter for every year of you and Gio, as Mama Moretti insisted. It’s tradition after all.

You arrive in Tuscany two days before your wedding with Marzia in tow. Gio and the rest of his family will fly out tomorrow evening before rehearsal and then you won’t see Gio again until right up at that altar— no first looks.

Things go so smoothly the day of. Marzia is taking photos, Mama Moretti and Nonna are fawning over how beautiful you look and how handsome Giovanni is after they had caught a glimpse. How they even comment he’s wearing a tie. You’ve never known Gio to button up a shirt completely, let alone wear a tie. But you both know how big the Moretti’s are with their traditions— and it’s not impossible to roll with it for the day. You feel beautiful, perfect, and you’re marrying the perfect man anyway.

Mama pins an emerald brooch at the collar of your dress— for luck. And your bouquet is delivered to the door by Giovanni, smiling when his sister, Theresa, answers, “don’t you look like a proper gentleman.” She laughs. Gio’s face turns a bit red, handing over the bouquet, and turning on his heel before he says something absolutely stupid.

And when you’re walked down the aisle, that first look at Gio makes your eyes water. Head held high, hat pinned into place, you can’t believe it’s only a matter of mere moments before he’s yours for eternity. Your eyes fall and notice there’s no gleam around his neck, not like there usually is. And you find he’s missing his chain. The chain you’ve never seen him take off. And you don’t miss the way his hands shake when he places that ring on your finger. You don’t miss the smile he gets when you both get to whisper, lo faccio (I do) to one another. And the gentle kiss Gio plants on your lips while both families cheer around you.

And it’s a whole ordeal, changing into your dress and veil for the reception, flushing hot when you think about Gio sneaking his head under your dress to pull at your garter. Something you weren’t even sure if you’d include— but after hearing Mama Moretti mumble, Italians have been doing a garter toss since the 14th century, you agree. And you walk hand in hand with Gio to the head of the finest table, overlooking all of your guests. You smile and laugh and he grins as you sip on wine and eat your bellies full. Listening to the band and loving one another endlessly. “Where’s your necklace?” You ask softly, your fingers trailing around his neck just so gently.

“Bad luck to wear gold on your wedding day, other than your ring, Cuore Mio.” He kisses your fingers tentatively— smiling at himself when you get to mingle with your guests. Everything is picture perfect, everything you could’ve ever imagined. And you’ve got the most amazing family here in Italy. Gio’s. Giovanni introduces you to those you haven’t met yet as his bride— his wife. His smile is bright, his hand is on your lower back, you can’t believe how much you love one another. It all feels amplified today. It all feels so right.

When you’re sitting in the middle of the dance floor, all eyes on you— your heart starts racing. Even when Gio’s crouching in front of you, hands on your ankles as he smiles. “Are you okay with this?” He asks softly, fingers just brushing small circles on your skin. There’s whispering and cheering going on around you both as you nod, Gio’s head disappearing underneath your dress.

There’s laughing and smiling and you can feel Gio kiss your thigh and maybe right over your panties as you laugh. His teeth scrape your skin as he pulls that garter down and off with the brightest smile. And when he teases Enzo for catching it, you can’t help but fall further in love. Further into this perfect little fantasy. Your dream wedding. Dancing with your head against Giovanni’s chest, his hands holding you close. You’re in heaven, it’s paradise. And when Papa Moretti pops that first wine bottle, you hear, “Evviva gli sposi!” (long live the newlyweds!) things could never feel better.

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@tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @mrs-zimmerman @cornmousequeen @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @mrs-gucci @millenialcatlady @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @paterson-blue @awkward-katiesaur

[glassbxttless]

don't think about Gio fucking you and nice and deep in the middle of the vineyard. breathing hot and heavy in your neck as your sundress gets stained and all you can smell is the greenery and Earth. he's mumbling about how you're gonna look so fucking good pregnant for him and how you take his cock so well.

ENJOY MY BRAIN WORMS PLEASE

Giovanni (bk joe guy) Moretti x Reader

Word Count: 1,352

Warnings: female reader, swearing, oral f receiving, PIV sex, loosely translated Italian

It’s the middle of August, the sun is warm against your skin. Your hands are intertwined as you walk, cutting through the air as they swing. Giovanni’s smile is bright, he’s got that blanket his mama made tucked over his arm. The wind is blowing his hair around enough he’s frustrated his hair tie had broken halfway through your walk.

And he picks a quiet place in the back of the vineyard, surrounded by grape vines and blackberry bushes. “I think this is the place.” He chuckles softly, spreading that quilted blanket out along the plush grass. It’s too high back here, he knows. He’ll cut it down eventually, but today was about his love and his love only. You’re quick to place the picnic basket down, wanting to share that blackberry pie you’d made earlier in the day. Sitting on the blanket, sandals sitting at the side, you pull your legs up under you. Gio’s laying down next to you happily. Arm propping his head up as he looks over at his new bride.

Your wedding band was a gift from his nonna, just like his was the one his nonno wore his entire married life. You’ve got the prettiest smile on your face, when you pull two wine glasses out of the basket, filling them with the nice white wine Gio had brought along. He’s quiet, looking up at the vines as you hand him a glass. “Everything okay, G?” You ask, lips against the edge of your glass. His eyes cut deep when he looks at you, sipping on his own glass of wine. He sits up, still leaning on one arm. The sun is hitting the gold of his wedding band, his hair is falling in his face, the top three buttons of his shirt are left unbuttoned so it’s showing off his chest, and you can’t believe how lucky you’ve gotten. You can hardly believe you’ve uprooted your seamstress life in New York, to be a wine maker’s wife in Sicily.

“Everything’s perfect, Cuore Mio.” He says it with that award winning smile. The one you had fallen in love with so long before. He’s crazy about you and you’re crazy about him. He catches sight of how close you are to the blackberry bushes and he reaches over to pluck a few off their stems, inspecting one quickly and quietly before he’s popping it into his mouth. You watch the way his lips close around the bite quietly, the way he swallows and maybe he notices. Maybe he makes a show of it, just for you. “Would you like one?”

And he’s picking another blackberry, holding it up to your lips. You’re smiling when you close your own lips around his fingers, biting down on the berry gently. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, the chino’s he’s got on suddenly not as loose as they were before. And you know exactly what you’re doing. He’s leaning towards you, smiling as you capture him into a plush kiss. His hand places the glass down in the grass beside your blanket, then it’s finding your hip. His fingers are rumpling up the fabric of that pretty white sundress. It’s bunching up at your waist, his hand is gliding from your hip, down the skin of your thighs. “Cuore Mio, I’ve been thinking about our wedding a lot recently.” His fingers are tantalizing against the inside of your thighs.

“Yeah? What do you remember?” You ask, fingers brushing back his hair, as his kisses trail down your neck. He’s pushing the basket out of the way as he lies you back, not even caring if the wine glasses have spilled or if you’ve yet to dig into that pie.

“I remember that pretty emerald brooch you wore to dinner the evening before.” He’s pressing his lips against your collarbone now. “And how nice you looked sitting on your windowsill that night.” His teeth are digging in now, just so gently. You feel the whimper that leaves your lips, and the smile his tug up into isn’t unnoticed either. “Remember hiking that dress up in our room, kissing every inch of this body— your body.” His eyes flick up to yours as his fingers brush up closer to your core. He’s so fucking hard, but he knows every second he waits, every second he winds you up— is so worth it. “How you could hardly say my name.” He’s humming against your skin, sucking deep bruises there. He’s moving his fingers against your panties, teasingly. He thinks about pulling them to the side, but not yet. Not until he’s burying his face under your pretty dress.

It takes him only a few seconds to connect your lips in another kiss, and then dip down between your thighs. He could eat you out all day, drink you up like the finest wine Sicily has to offer. He’s tugging your panties down, pressing kiss after kiss against your calves in their wake. He tosses them to the side, they’re bunching up in the grass next to you both. And he admires you for a moment. Every bit of his life gets to be spent with you. You share his name now, and he couldn’t be prouder. And when his lips connect over your dripping cunt, he hears the gasp you’re desperate to hold back. He snakes a hand up to spread you open wide, just for him, licking at every inch of you he can. And you’re reminded again of just how fucking lucky you are when he attaches those lips to your clit and coaxes a gentle finger into you.

Your hands tug his hair, when you feel so close to tumbling over. When you just want your orgasm so badly. But you know it’s better if you’re patient. It’s better to wait. And his chin is wet, as he grins and sits up. He uses the back of his arm to wipe his face before he’s hovering above you. You’re working that faux leather belt open, telling him just how nice that top makes his skin look. The sunlight is hitting his chain, the one you’ve only ever seen off on your wedding day. He’s working down his chino’s and his underwear just enough to guide himself into your waiting cunt. The blanket is balling up underneath you with the force of Gio’s first thrust into you. And you can’t help the yelp it elicits. You can smell the grass around you, the berries and grapes, the sweat beading up on your bodies. You can feel Giovanni’s body moving with yours, giving all of his love to you. His breath is hot against your neck, “god you’re so beautiful.” You hear him whisper, “Cuore Mio, you’re gonna look so good, carrying my babies.” He’s moving his hips harder, faster, his hand finding your jaw to twist your face towards his.

“Giovanni…” you manage to choke out, that familiar pit in your stomach is growing larger and larger. You feel like you’re about to burst. And Gio’s close too. The way he’s covering your cheekbone in kisses to hide the way his rhythm has faulted.

“Here it comes, Cuore Mio. Do you want it? You want my cum?” He mumbles against the skin right under your ear. And his hand is moving from your jaw to rub harsh circles against your clit. He wants an answer, but you aren’t sure you can put the words together.

“I want it.” You manage quietly, eyes squeezing tight and your heels are digging into his hips as you cum yourself. He thrusts once more before burying his seed deep inside of you, groaning into your neck quietly. No one will hear you, no one will see.

Your dress is stained with spilled wine and grass, your underwear are stuffed in Gio’s pocket as he redresses himself and fixes his belt. “They’ve probably got ants in them anyway.” He teases, making sure he gets a nice look at your ass as you pack up the picnic, saving your pie for later in the evening.

*

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@tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @mrs-zimmerman @cornmousequeen @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @mrs-gucci

[glassbxttless]

Giovanni (bk joe guy) Moretti x Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Warnings: female reader, nsfw, pining for your best friend, they’re roommates, cheating, swearing, PIV sex, loosely translated Italian

Notes: Giovanni is about 19-20 in this fic. He’s still learning English at this point therefore there’s more Italian intermixed than most of my other Gio fics. (And the Italian/English dynamic is sort of important in this one particularly). And as always, if I get something wrong— feel free to correct me!

Italian/Sicilian Glossary:

Casa di Campagna - Country Home

just the title!** the rest is defined within the fic!

You’ve woken up on many occasions to the sound of Giovanni rummaging around the kitchen. But this time you hear him talking quietly to someone and you roll your eyes when you hear her voice.

Candace’s voice is low pitched and annoying. You hate hearing it around the apartment and you’ve hated it everyday since realizing your feelings for Giovanni. You roll out of bed, pulling your robe over your bare skin before you slide your feet into the pair of slippers Gio had passed your way for your birthday. You can see the snow falling quietly out of your bedroom window as you make your way to the en-suite to brush your teeth and make yourself just a little less sleepy looking. When you finally emerge from your room into the kitchen just off the side, Giovanni’s making pancakes at the stovetop. Your heart bursting from your chest when you see just how sleepy he looks too. His shirt is missing, his chain is reflecting just the perfect amount of light, and he’s got his hair pulled up.

And you see where that shirt is when you look at the woman sitting on one of the barstools. You grab a glass from the cabinet and the orange juice from the refrigerator. “Buongiorno.” (Good morning!) Gio smiles softly and you just nod happily.

“Buongiorno, G.” (Good morning, G) You smile as you pour a glass of orange juice, hearing the little scoff across the island.

“English please.” She rolls her eyes, flicking back a few strands of hair falling over her shoulder. You’ve always hated how fucking badly done that color was.

“Good morning, Candace.” You force a polite smile, although everyone can tell how strained it looked. You want to look at Giovanni again, but you don’t. You grab a granola bar and start heading back to your room. You aren’t about to spend your day off getting your heartbroken watching the man you love feel up on the girl that doesn’t fucking deserve him. And you do spend the day in your room, periodically emerging for snack refills and more water. Giovanni kissing Candace at the door on your third or fourth trip out of your room, wishing her a happy day at work. You roll your eyes and huff once the door is closed, “she’s been over a lot.”

Giovanni nods a little as he sits on the couch, muting it for a moment. “She’s not…” he takes a moment, and you smile as you watch his gears turn in his head. He’s trying to figure out how to say what he’s about to say, you’re almost sure of it. “She doesn’t like that you’re naked.” He’s slow as he speaks, but he’s smiling while he does so. You know Giovanni’s intentions are good, bringing it up. You know he’s only caring for his partner’s feelings. A partner he’s had for almost four months now.

“I’m sorry, G.” You apologize, placing fresh ice cubes into your glass before turning the tap on to fill it with water. “But we’re adults and I’m covered in my own home.” You shrug a little bit and watch as Giovanni turns back around on the couch to continue to watch the film that was on, and you definitely notice him changing it to Italian subtitles as you walk back to your bedroom. Candace couldn’t be bothered to learn even the most basic Italian for him, while she’s pushing and pushing that he learn more english by Thanksgiving to meet her family. And you’re growing sick and tired of that whole spiel.

Days go by. Weeks turn into months and you’ve kept your distance. If you could distance your friendship from him, it might be a little easier coming to terms with the fact that they’re together now. Even if you hear them fighting from time to time. You walk in to Gio’s looking at flights on his laptop. And he turns towards you, “Ciao.” (Hello) He waves as you place your things down.

“Hey… what’re you doing?” You ask as you hang your jacket on the hook and set your purse in the chair.

“Going home for Natale.” (Christmas) He shrugs, “I was thinking of inviting Candace too.” You almost don’t catch that last bit, Gio’s accent is still thick.

“You’re inviting Candace?” Your voice is quiet. You’re realizing now that she’ll meet his family. The family that was so fucking fond of you. The family you want to be visiting for Christmas. “She doesn’t know any Italian… She doesn’t let you speak Italian… are you sure it’s a good idea to take her to Italy?” You can feel your lip start to quiver and you’re really trying not to cry in front of him.

“She’s my girlfriend.” He shrugs just a little bit. He’s watching you quietly, watching the change in your body language. The change in your emotions. “What’s wrong?” He frowns.

“Nothing.” You swallow back the tears, feeling your throat and eyes start to burn. You’re trying not to look him in the eye and he’s trying to just help his best friend. “I’m… I’ve got plans.” You swallow and try to take a breath without Gio noticing.

But he does and he’s got his hands on your arms gently, forcing you to look at him. He studies your face quietly, looking for any— just any— sign of distress. And he finds it when he watches you suck your quivering lip between your teeth. “You’re lying.” He mumbles quietly, “I thought you told me things?”

You want to break down. You want to bust down crying right in front of him. Have him wrap you up in those strong arms that you haven’t felt since she moved into his life. The arms that haven’t felt the same since you fell for him. The arms you’ve not felt since the last time his cock was buried deep inside of you. Two weeks before he met Candace. “I love you, G.” You whisper, tears threatening to fall.

And Gio knows that, “I love you too, Caro,” (dear) he rubs your arms quietly and that does start your tears, the sobs racking your chest. You resolve to start looking for an apartment on your own— your lease was almost up anyway.

“No. I love you, Giovanni.” You try to hold your composure as Gio figures out what you mean. As the gears turn in his head and he stares at you quietly, “ti amo, Gio.” (I love you, Gio).

“Ti Amo?” (I love you.) He asks quietly and you just nod. He takes a few moments and then smiles, “I… thought you weren’t interested.” He says quietly and maybe you take your shot in kissing him. You’ll leave anyway, what do you have to lose? And feeling his lips against yours again, his hands dropping from your arms to your hips to pull you closer to him, you melt. You feel so fucking weak in his arms. And it’s your hands that find his hair, pulling him closer. And maybe he doesn’t object. “Cuore Mio (my heart), I’ve loved you for so long.” He’s whispering against your lips. He’s whispering incoherent Italian that you can’t make out as your hands trail down to start unbuttoning his shirt. You couldn’t give two fucks about Candace right now. Giovanni loves you and you love him.

He’s leading you back to his bedroom, stripping you both of shirts, jackets, your skirt, all along the way. He’s kissing wherever he can, his fingers are slipping under the waistband of your underwear and you pull away just a bit. “Sit.” You smile at him. His chest is bare and he’s sat in his chinos at the head of the bed. He’s watching your every move, like he’s done so many times before. So many times when you both were just… letting off some steam. But now— now you know each other’s secrets. You’re crawling over his lap, tipping back his head with a hand around his throat. He feels like whimpering, as he looks you straight in the eye. You can feel the way he swallows under your fingers. You love the way the dim lamp light reflects off the chain under your fingers. “You’re mine. She doesn’t make you cum as hard as I do, huh?” You mumble against his lips as you squeeze around his throat. His hands are working open his chinos as you grind yourself down against him.

Your fingers are tugging on that chain he always wears, lifting yourself up to help him get his bottoms off. “Mi stai facendo morire.” (You’re killing me.) He whispers, voice so breathy, hands grazing over your ass as he drags your panties down and off of your body. And you’re tilting his head up again into another kiss, tugging his chain tightly as he pushes himself into your waiting cunt. Gio’s soft sigh against your lips is enough to get you rocking your hips. He’s guiding you down on his cock, fucking up into you as he leans back against the headboard. “You’re incredible.” He mumbles as you bite down on that sensitive patch of his neck you know drives him insane.

Candace let’s herself into the apartment with the key hidden under the mat, and she’s calling out for Giovanni quietly. Neither of you can hear her over the sounds of your bodies moving with one another. But she can definitely hear you. Your clit is brushing against his body as you bounce on his cock, holding him close. “Mi ami, Cuore Mio?” (Do you love me, my heart?) He’s gripping your hips hard enough you can feel your muscles bruising. “Mi ami?” (Do you love me?) He’s a bit more aggressive with his words as he moves a hand from your hip to your shoulder to pull you down to meet his thrusts. You’re quick to nod, Gio hitting every inch of every right spot inside of you. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Ti amo, Giovanni. I love you.” (I love you, Giovanni). Your voice is shaky, you’re so close. And he is too, the way his breathing changes and he rolls the two of you over, sheets pooling around your hips as he pushes one of your legs up towards your chest slightly. The angle is so different, he’s lifting your hips up slightly, fucking into you harder.

“Mi stai facendo venire.” (You’re gonna make me cum). Gio mumbles against your neck as he hears his phone ping with a new text message. Your nails are digging into his back as he thrusts up into you, knocking his headboard against the wall hard— once, twice, three times over. “Sto venendo.” (I’m cumming). You’re both breathing heavy as his hips hitch to a stop inside of you, spilling each hot rope of his seed into you. And you’re seeing white not far behind him. Your limbs shaking and toes curling, just as the two of you hold one another in your arms and come down from your love drunk highs.

When he lies back, he pulls you to his chest. Curling you close to him. He reaches over for his phone and catches sight of the text from Candace and he just chuckles softly. He has his love finally.

Candace: We’re over. Have fun fucking your roommate.

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@tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @mrs-zimmerman @cornmousequeen @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @mrs-gucci @millenialcatlady @leatherboundbirate @jynzandtonic @paterson-blue

[glassbxttless]

Can I request HCs for Giovanni after his and reader’s kids are told Gio isn’t their ‘real dad’ by their cousins, and Gio comforts them and explains his infertility problems?

This has been on my mind all day since seeing it. I imagine the kids are still pretty young and don’t exactly understand the concept of sperm donation yet so here’s it at children’s level? Enjoy (:

Warnings: loosely translated Italian, talks of unbiological children

(a little Italian glossary to help)

Zio - Uncle

Topolina - little mouse

Cucciolo - puppy

Ilaria and Pietro come home from Zio Enzo’s in the country side with quiet thoughts hanging in their heads.

Gio’s noticed immediately after picking them up, they’re different. They’re usually laughing and telling him all about the week they’ve had.

He brings it up to you while the kids are getting ready for bed that night. You just try to assure him they had a long trip.

But when you’re tucking them in for the evening and Pietro brings up, “Bella said Enzo is my real papa.”

You’ve known this day was coming, you’ve known for a long time. But the way he looks at you, breaks your heart in two. You just reassure him that his papa is the only papa he’s ever known and make your way to your bedroom.

Telling Gio feels like a punch in both of your guts. He isn’t even sure what to tell them. How to make sure they understand.

And Gio is bringing both of the kids into your shared bedroom, tucking them under your blankets as he sits. He’s in his pjs for the night, chest bare, and chain gleaming in the light.

“Topolina... Cucciolo...” he’s choked up to say the least, stumbling on the words he wants to say. But you’re there to rub his back, smile at him, and reassure him that it’s all alright.

“Before Ilaria was born, your mama and I were trying really hard to have a baby.” He says quietly. He’ll get into that another day. “But sometimes, people just have a little trouble having babies on their own... so they have to ask for help.”

Ilaria’s looking at him with the widest eyes and so is Pietro. You’re smoothing a bit of his hair back, the strands that have fallen out of his bun. “Did you and mama have trouble, papa?”

“We did... and we had to get some help. We had help from a nice man in Milan and Zio Enzo.” He smiles at them both. “But just because I didn’t get to make you babies, doesn’t make me any less of your papa. I still love you both more than anything in the world.”

Pietro looks at him confused, “you’re still my papa?”

“I changed enough of your dirty diapers to say so, cucciolo.” He smiles, ruffling his hair to enact the inevitable giggling.

And it’s a tight squeeze, with the four of you in bed. But Giovanni would definitely not have it any other way.

[glassbxttless]

A Masterlist For My SNL Character Thoughts:

Hi, I named all of the SNL Characters for convenience on writing them! And I hope you enjoy all the thoughts in my brain when I get the inspiration to do write them out!

NSFW will be indicated with a *

Updated: 14 October 2021

Thots:

Age Gap/Daddy Kink How You Met/First Hookup Trying for a Baby in the Spring Celebrating Spring Fertility Thots on Being Choked*

Ficlets:

Truth with Dinner

Nightgown*

HCs:

Breeding Kink Ranking Dealing with Jessa’s First Heartbreak People Thinking He’s Your Dad Some Spicy Headcanons Trick or Treating Jessa Gets Hurt Mother’s Day with Miles and Jessa Field Trip with Jessa

Thots:

Age Gap/Daddy Kink How You Met/First Hookup Thots on Being Choked*

Ficlets:

HCs:

People Thinking He’s Your Dad Knocking You Up*

Thots:

Science Conference* Age Gap/Daddy Kink Spits in Your Mouth* How You Met/First Hookup* Unwinding from a Long Week* Celebrating Spring Fertility* Thots on Being Choked*

Ficlets:

Work For It*

HCs:

Some Zachary HCs

Thots:

Sharing With Ben: one two three How Randy Spends Spring Break* Thots on Being Choked*

Ficlets:

Another Baby Solo: one Therapy Sessions: one College!Randy Blurbs*

Your First Time* “Is that a tattoo?” Early Rising on a Sunday Randy Finds You Babie Blades* Randall and His No Good Very Bad Day* Drinkin’ Bone 40th Birthday* Cherry Red* Marshall’s*

HCs:

Hematolagnia List of Kinks Just a Little About Randy The Solo’s Played Baseball (1) The Solo’s Played Baseball (2) Overworked Randy How Randy got his Scar How Randy Feels About his Scar Vacation Thots Does Randy like his Hair Pulled?* The Kinkiest Thing he’s Done* Does Randy Drink or Smoke? Ideal Date Period Sex* How He Got Lori! Shopping for Ben’s Wedding You Get a Little Tipsy Randy with a Plus-Sized Reader Goth gf Marina

Your Nickname

A Little About Blaise

Thots:

Age Gap/Daddy Kink How You Met/First Hookup Thots on Being Choked*

Ficlets:

Little Flower*

HCs:

Some Blaise HCs Eloping

Thots:

Literally My First Cameron Thot Thots on Being Choked*

Ficlets:

HCs:

A Little About Giovanni

Thots:

Trying for a Baby in the Spring Thots on Being Choked*

Ficlets:

Is that a Cocker Spaniel? Cuore Mio*

Evviva Gli Sposi Infertility Moretti’s Vineyard

Blackberry Pie*

Casa di Campagna*

Un Viaggio in Italia

HCs:

Just a Few Little Headcanons Giovanni is NOT a Morning Person Holly Interrupts the Sex* A Trip to Italy Baby Weight Picture Day No Pizza Hut

Not their “Real Dad”

Ilaria’s Grownup

Bad Day for the Kids

A Little About Finn

Thots:

Ficlets:

High School Blurbs

Pink Satin*

HCs:

Sub!Finn*

Thots:

Ficlets:

HCs:

Thots:

Ficlets:

Single Saturday Night* Pine Needles & Crushed Velvet

Hcs:

[glassbxttless]

Fluff prompt of Gio bonding with his kids?

I hope you like this! I love Gio so so much.

Giovanni (bk joe guy) Moretti x Reader

Word Count: 1,090

Warnings: female reader, fluff, mentions wine, some bad Italian thrown in there, kiddos, established marriage

Days so nice to keep both of the kids home come few and far between. And he’d be damned if he let this day get away from him. So he pulls Ilaria out of school for the day and tells you to grab the baskets, you’re all going out to the vineyard today. And Giovanni has the biggest smile on his face when he pulls Pietro out of bed that morning. You’re smiling as you help Ilaria into a sundress just as light as yours. Gio’s dressed in slacks and a short sleeve button up, helping Pietro into shorts and a little t-shirt.

And he’s carrying Pietro on his shoulders as Ilaria holds your hand. You walk out to the vineyard on the back half of the property, carrying all of the baskets close to you. Gio’s gold chain is gleaming in the sunlight, just as much as his wedding band is. And you’re thankful you’ve gotten to marry such a wonderful man. He’s laughing along as Pietro orders him to March, tugging on his hair and kicking his legs. Gio’s hands are holding onto Pietro’s thighs so he doesn’t fall. Ilaria’s smiling up at you, “mama? Papa’s happy today.” She points out and you smile, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“He is pretty happy today, huh? Glad he got to take off work.” You smile as you walk with her. Gio’s had a rough few weeks, with the winery starting off. He’s been stressed and overworked— but he doesn’t mind. He’d do whatever he needed to do for his babies and you.

And he sets Pietro down to open the gate for the four of you, letting the kids trickle in and his hand lazily guides you through by the hip. Maybe his lips brush your temple and he’s smiling. You’re laying out the blanket, complete with the sandwiches you’d made for your family. And Giovanni is teaching the kids how to pick the perfect just right grapes. You sit back and watch quietly.

Giovanni doesn’t really get this time to spend with them much. He’s been so busy, since wanting to open the winery again. The one his father had closed ten years before. The Moretti name isn’t anything without wine, of course. And you encourage the bonding times, you know it doesn’t come easy. After so many rounds of IVF with donor sperm, he’s broken down bit by bit. Enzo willing to give up just a bit of himself so Gio would have a baby that looked just like him. You didn’t mind either way. Enzo’s or a stranger. You’re thankful for Ilaria. You’re thankful for Pietro. You’re amazed at how great of a father Giovanni is and how great of a father he continues to be.

And they laugh as they fill their baskets, Gio lifting them up to find the ones on the higher vines. He may even let them sneak a few into their little giggling mouths while you weren’t looking. And he brings them back to your blanket after an hour or so. Smiling as he looks down at his watch, as golden as the chain and wedding band. “Time for lunch, cuore mio?” He grins that grin you fell in love with so many years before. Pietro is crawling up into your lap, begging for those homemade sandwiches.

Even at two, he could match Gio in eating sandwiches. And Ilaria loved making the bread with you. “You two had a nice day?” He asks, smiling over at you.

The kids both nod, grinning and telling him all about the things they saw on the leaves or the bunnies on the ground. Giovanni listens. He listens carefully. Something his father didn’t do much for him.

And at night, he’s careful to read them each a bedtime story, kiss their foreheads, and tuck them into their beds. All he wants is for them to grow up happy. And he hopes they are each night when he lies them down. Pietro barely knows a word in English and he keeps coaxing him little by little. Because your Italian is still just a teeny bit rusty. And he’s learning from his surroundings. From his papa. Ilaria, on the other hand, is growing into a beautiful little girl. Just like you. And you’re thankful for that. While she does look different from Gio, there’s enough similarities to you that it doesn’t press him much at all. He’s trying. He really is.

And when he lies down next to you at night, chain cold against his skin and stripped down to his boxers— smelling like Sun Song by Louis Vuitton and holding so much stress in his shoulders. “They’re growing up.” He says quiet enough where you almost don’t hear him. You nod in agreement.

“They are growing up. And we’re doing a good job at making sure they have what they need. Stop worrying.” You tuck a strand of his hair back and he leans over to kiss your bare shoulder.

“I’m not worried… I just… I feel like I’m missing so much.” He smiles sadly at you. And you aren’t sure what to say. “Pietro’s just getting bigger… Ilaria’s gonna be a little woman before I know it.” He sighs and rubs his eyes for a few seconds. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I don’t have them anymore.”

“You’re always going to have them, G.” You smile, pulling him into your arms and he just huffs, closing his eyes and resting against your chest. “They’re always going to love you. No matter how far they get from home. They’ll always come back.” You’re playing with his hair quietly, pressing kisses on his head. “I mean, just look at you. Spend ten years in New York and you’re back in Sicily. They won’t go away forever, my love.”

“I know… just hard to remind myself sometimes. I guess.” He sighs and smiles. “I just want them to stay little. Stay here where I can protect them.”

“You’re such a great papa bear. You know that?” You smile at him and you can see his cheeks tinge red all the way up to his ears. “I love you and they love you. I promise.” You can’t help but catch his lips in a kiss.

And the little knock the breaks you two apart is met with a smile. Pietro opens the door, tugging his blankie behind him as he crawls into your bed, settling between the two of you. And Gio’s never been happier.

*

*

@tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @mrs-zimmerman @cornmousequeen @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina

[glassbxttless]

Can I request a short fluff piece of Ilaria feeling ‘grown up’ and not wanting Gio to hug and kiss her by the gates of her school because she feels embarrassed, and reader comforts him after he gets hurt because he feels like Ilaria’s growing too fast?

Awe, this hurt my lil heart 🥺 we just love hurting Gio’s feelings, huh? Have these!

Gio walks Pietro and Ilaria to school every single day, holding their hands and making sure to kiss their cheeks and wish them good luck for the day right at the gate.

Until one morning when Ilaria’s nine and Pietro is six, Ilaria says she doesn’t need to hold Gio’s hand anymore. He smiles, accepting the fact for just a moment. It’s a long walk, maybe she just doesn’t feel like it.

That is until they get to the gates and Gio is crouching down to kiss Pietro’s cheek, moving on to Ilaria’s, “no papa. That’s okay.” She says softly.

He frowns a little, watching as she turns on her heel and leads Pietro into school. It’s a quiet walk home, alone with his thoughts. Was she getting too big for a kiss goodbye?

“How old were you when your parents stopped walking you to school?” He asks you quietly, as you’re preparing a lunch at the counter for the two of you quietly.

“Probably eight or nine. I walked with my friends.” You smile softly and shrug. “New York is a lot different than here though, G.” You reply to him, hearing his sigh as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Ilaria didn’t want to hold my hand or get a kiss today.” He mumbles into the back of your neck, closing his eyes as he deeply inhales that scent that calms him down so easily. “She’s so grown up.”

“Gio...” you chuckle softly. “She’s not going to be a baby forever.” You remind him and give his hands a squeeze, “but she’s always going to need her papa. No matter if she’s nine or if she’s thirty-nine.”

He huffs quietly against your skin and squeezes you tightly. “I don’t like that she’s so fucking grown.” He hums and kisses your head gently, pulling away. “I’ll be in my office.”

You roll your eyes, finishing the sandwich rolls you were preparing. You take him a plate quietly, making sure to set a few loose photos of Ilaria and him down as well. “She needed you then, she needs you now. Just a little differently.” You whisper and kiss his head.

And maybe at bedtime, he thinks about skipping her bedtime routine. Tucking her in and giving her her bedtime kiss, until Ilaria is sitting up in her bed, whispering a quiet, “papa? Where’s my kiss?”

[glassbxttless]

For Giovanni, I was thinking of him having a bad day and lashing out at the kids who become scared of him, and reader confronts him about it and he then apologizes? Thank you

Here you go, sweet pea! I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: mentions of a father yelling, breastfeeding

Another Italian/Sicilian* Glossary:

Topolina - little mouse

Cucciolo - puppy

Patatino - little potato

Bona notti* - good night

Giovanni’s been spending a majority of his time at the winery lately, with things amping up before he debuts Moretti’s Wine in stores again.

You’ve noticed the quick temper he has with you these days, and the even shorter fuse he has with your 6 and 3 year old children.

One family dinner does it for him though. With the kids arguing about the cats that run around in the courtyard and you not trying in the slightest to get them to stop, he may have raised his voice and clanked a few dishes when his hands meet the table top.

Your head snaps up a bit, frowning, as your met with the quivering lips of your little ones. Ilaria’s is asking if they can be excused. Pietro has tears in his eyes.

You sigh, shooting a look to Giovanni as you stand and collect Pietro in your arms. Ilaria runs off to her room and you’re cradling your little one close to your chest— leaving Giovanni at the table by himself.

Ilaria tucks herself into bed that night and frowns when Giovanni knocks on her door. “Topolina?”

She’s quiet as Gio sits on the edge of her bed, tucking the covers up over her anyway. “I’m sorry for yelling.” He says softly. His voice is light and his tone has changed from earlier. “I love you, sleep well. Bona notti, love.” He presses a kiss against her forehead and Ilaria sits up out of her bed to hug him tightly.

When he enters your bedroom to see Pietro nursing quietly as you rub his back, he sighs softly. He couldn’t believe he’d scared his two babies.

“Cucciolo?” Giovanni whispers as he crawls up in bed next to the two of you, Pietro keeping his face hidden against your chest. And he realizes Pietro is going to need a little more persuading than just a simple apology.

You look over at Gio’s pleading eyes and push your finger between Pietro’s latch. “Patatino.” You whisper to him softly. “Papa’s trying to talk to you.”

Pietro lifts his head to look at Giovanni quietly and rubs his sleepy eyes, “no, papa.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Gio smiles a bit, reaching out for your son. He’s hesitant but eventually gives in to his papa’s embrace. “I love you, cucciolo. I’m sorry.” He presses a kiss against his head as Pietro’s arms wrap around his neck, holding onto him tightly.

And Gio’s the one that carries him back to his room to put to bed that evening. And the last apology he makes, is a gentle kiss to your lips and a quiet promise that he’ll take some time off for himself and his family.

[glassbxttless]

A Little About Giovanni:

Born Giovanni John Valentine Moretti on July 15, 1987, in Catania, Sicily; Italy.

He goes by Gio, more often than not. Unless it’s his nonna or mama calling him, Giovanni/John

He’s the youngest of eight living siblings: Enzo, Marzia, Agatha, Teresa, Francesca, Vittoria, Beatrice, (Giovanna) & Giovanni. Giovanna, the daughter before Giovanni, passed away very young.

He worked in his parents vineyard as a teenager, and then in the winery when he was a freshly turned 18-year-old.

He moved to New York when he was 18, close to turning 19, for a somewhat-paid apprenticeship as a painter.

He’s a fucking great painter, it’s what he does with his spare time.

He has a very low sperm count and both of his children were conceived via sperm donors; one being his brother, Enzo.

Gio loves all things to do with men’s fashion. He’s more inclined to the vintage pieces that have been passed down through his family, (suits he’s gotten from his father mainly).

He’s a Louis Vuitton type of guy.

His English is pretty good, having lived in New York for 10 years before moving back to Italy. He’s got a bit of a mixed accent (between Sicily and NYC).

He moves back onto his parents property when they retire to a smaller one they’re able to care for.

He worked as an intern, he was literally just a coffee runner lol, in a fashion house the first three years he was in NYC, on top of his apprenticeship.

Keeps his hair long enough to put in a little ponytail, a bun, or little braids.

Does not take off the gold chain.

Calls you Cuore Mio

He also loves good coffee.

[glassbxttless]

William: he’s confused when you come at him with the idea of camming when he loses his job (due to a certain pandemic). but as much as you’ve encouraged his gaming channel, he’s just as encouraging to your cam career. he helps you pick out costumes, lingerie, set designs, and everything in between.

Patrick: his daughter shows him your onlyfans. First he asks her what the fuck she’s doing, second he confronts you about it and offers to start taking your photos if you need the help. But he doesn’t offer any participation.

Maurizio: is kind of a dick about it— doesn’t want to watch your streams or be included in any part of it. He does stock you with some Gucci heels and he might sneak a few photos off your page of you wearing them.

Blaise: you’re camming when you meet Blaise. You tell him all about it on your third or fourth date, how Del Taco just wasn’t cutting it and now you could pay your bills. Blaise signs up for an account that night and starts tipping really fucking well under the guise, deltacodaddy

Giovanni: you start a couples cam channel and you both are very fucking into it. Gio listens to almost every request they want him to do to you and you do the same for him. He has a favorite outfit you wear though, and it includes those pretty gold angels wings and he wants them all to your private sex life.

Cameron: writes whole fucking scripts for you, because to him, it’s “essentially an acting gig.”

Finn: sweet Finn is literally so supportive right from the get go! He asks you how to set up his account and you two do it together and he immediately subscribed to your shows. He mentions little requests or ideas he has whenever he can. He leaves kind comments in your chat box and tells you you’re beautiful to the point it annoys the rest of the chat

[glassbxttless]

Hey Cece, hope you’re well. If requests are open, can I request one with Gio and reader’s kids wanting to go out on a family dinner and suggesting Pizza Hut, but Gio is disgusted and tells them he’s going to take them to a *real* Italian restaurant?

My requests are always open! And I love this one very much! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written!

After your mother falls ill, you and Gio decide you’ll take the kids back to New York where you can take care of her for a little while and he’ll visit as much as he can.

So while living in New York, Ilaria and Pietro have developed quite the taste for American cuisine (they’ve had your cooking, but you rarely went out for dinner back at home)— especially pizza. From where? Fucking Pizza Hut.

And the first time Gio visits, he offers a family dinner to everyone— including your mother— and is met with two small squeals for Pizza Hut.

And Gio about gags. “Has your mother fed either of you anything actually good?”

You roll your eyes and smile at him.

“I’m taking you all for authentic Italian. Don’t worry.” He chuckles as he lifts Pietro up, whose got the biggest pout on his face. “They have pizza too. Okay?”

And that’s how you all end up at Scali, Gio’s favorite Italian restaurant.

He ends up with a Rosemary Mushroom Risotto dish in front of him, and you and your mother share some Tuscan chicken. The kids are begging for a pizza. So they end up with pizza— Italian style.

Each bite they take is devoured with the next and Gio’s laughing to himself as he eats. “It’s better than Pizza Hut isn’t it?”

[glassbxttless]

“Did you just buy me a puppy” from the prompts (18) with Domenico’s coffee guy from SNL?

I needed a break from all the smutty filth that’s been requested— so if you want some wholesome puppy content, here you go 🖤

Giovanni x Reader

Word Count: 1,037

Warnings: fluff, a puppy

The two of you had been looking for a puppy for a few months now. Scouring every shelter you could and Gio never had quite bonded with any to the point of actually wanting to bring it into your home. And you watched him quietly. Each time he’d be so hopeful, only to be heartbroken when he couldn’t give each pup in there a home.

And then, your best friend has a surprise litter of cocker spaniel puppies. And you knew just how much Gio loved her little dog. You’re sent a photo of a litter of six solid, roan, and tick patterned pups. And your eye is immediately drawn to the smallest one of the bunch, a blue roan baby, and fifteen minutes later you’re telling her you’ll give it a home for Gio’s birthday in a few months.

And when he’s rolling over in bed as he wakes up, wrapping an arm around you sleepily and pressing a kiss to the back of your neck you smile. You feel the warmth of his bare chest pressed against your back and the cool metal of the chain he never took off around his neck pressed into your shoulder blades. You were truly in love. You feel his lips press another kiss at the base of your skull, right into your hair and then he’s leaning up to kiss your jaw and then your lips gently. “Mornin.” He mumbles before he crawls out of bed and heads for the bathroom. He’s in pale blue striped boxers and you smile, fixing your tank top straps as you lock your phone and sit up.

And for the next six weeks you spend time dropping hints about a dog, putting off shelter visits, shopping, and leaving new photos of the little puppy around and that’s what Giovanni steps into the bathroom while you’re in the bath, holding the latest photo in his hand. “Did you buy a puppy?” He asks, having finally figured it out.

And you tip your wine glass to your lips, “happy birthday, my love.” You giggle, just a little bit wine drunk. And the smile on his face grows so wide.

“This is our dog?” He asks softly and you nod. “Sweetheart, this is a wonderful gift.” He crouches down beside the bathtub and leans in to kiss you as softly as he can. “We gotta pick a name, get things together—”

“Gio.” You tilt his chin up as he rambles. “Everything is sitting in the closet. Can paint her things just how you want them.”

And that’s how Giovanni spends his last two weeks free of the responsibility a puppy takes up. When he comes in from work, he brings you your coffee and sits in the living room to work on painting her dog bowls, sewing her a custom little bed, and embroidering a blanket. He’s that dog dad. And he’s practically vibrating in his seat when you drive them over to Renee’s house, you hold his hand as you walk him inside.

He’s greeted with six little puppies jumping on his legs and his eyes are drawn to the one he’s seen pictures of the last eight weeks and he wants to pick her up and smother her in kisses. But he waits quietly as you point her out to him and step over to the table to have coffee with Renee. And you sit down to chat while you watch Giovanni sit with the pups to play.

And it’s all evening you watch him. And he’s having an absolute blast. And you’ve not seen him happier in so long. And you may not be able to give him a human baby right now, but this dog has filled his heart just as much. And he holds her on his lap your entire drive back. “What’s her name?” You ask. He’s been so secretive over all of his customization and you’ve been dying to know.

“Holly.” He says with a shrug. “Holly Amore. Since it’s December and my love made her my birthday gift.” He shrugs, a red tinge creeped up his neck and up to his ears.

Once you’re home, you watch as Gio introduces Holly to the apartment, her special area in the corner of the living room. Where she’ll sleep in the bed— everything. And the night goes super well.

You get on him for treating her with table scraps but all he does is give you his own puppy dog eyes and says he’s settling her in. He takes her out on the leash for potty time every thirty to forty minutes and after every meal. He puts her in bed right between the two of you. He’s excited he can finally take something to the dog park and throw a ball. He spends so much time training her and teaching her tricks to show you, you lose track.

And you watch him spread out on the couch with her laying on his chest or his tummy as he watches tv and movies. It’s nice to see him love something so much. He calls you mama when he talks to her and you can’t think of anything better falling from his lips. And you never thought you’d be the one cuddling up to a dog and scratching behind her ears when you’ve got your work done and Gio’s out doing his. You love Holly just as much as Gio does and sometimes it’s like you can’t handle it. Especially when Holly gives your cheek a little lick of love.

You treasure each one. And maybe you two put Holly in your Christmas card every year from then on out. You get matching sweaters and Gio let’s you paint his nails red and braid his hair and you all wear matching sweaters— even Holly. And you eat up every second of it. One of the photos is the lock screen on your phone, because you love how Gio smiles so big and holds Holly in his arm and has an arm around your waist and you can’t bring yourself to ever change it.

Gio is the best dog dad their is and you won’t ever regret finding Holly for him.

*

*

@tashastrange89

[glassbxttless]

All of the dads gaining weight along with reader when she's pregnant. They can't stay away from the late night cravings they're woken up to go track down

OH GOODNESS THIS JUST OPENED UP A CAN OF WORMS THAT I LOVE. ENJOY!

(I didn’t write all of the dads bc that’s just too many for me! But I picked two that I thought this would be most relevant with!)

Clyde loves having you full of his babies. And your cravings have never been as bad as they were this time with this little nugget.

The constant chicken nuggets with Mayo or baked jalapeños and pepperonis. Ice cream at 3am.

And you never wanted to eat alone. So Clyde was starting to pack on the pounds.

And when Violet starts pointing out that daddy’s belly is soft like Mama’s, Clyde starts to get a little self conscious.

He starts looking in the mirror longer in the evenings as you’re lying in bed— asking if he looks fat.

You always tell him no, that he’s just put on a little more weight. Filled out nicely.

Clyde doesn’t ever like any answer you give.

But he indulges every one if your cravings and tries to keep his own at bay.

He doesn’t do a very good job at it lol.

Tries to work out and “get his body back.” After you give birth to your second daughter.

Gio’s kids were conceived via sperm donors, therefore— Gio wants to be very invested in every other part of your pregnancy.

If that’s getting you every craving under the sun at 2-3am, then he does it.

If that’s making you four or five meals a days, then he does it.

And of course he’s right there sharing everything with you.

And he notices the weight he’s putting on about four months into your pregnancy with Ilaria.

He doesn’t mention it to you at first, just tries to cut down on his portions when he indulges with you.

The pregnancy that really does it in for him is Pietro’s.

He literally cannot help all of his indulging.

You’re stressing him tf out with your mood swings and the only time he gets to relax is when he’s sharing food with you.

His favorite is the strawberry gelato you ask for.

The typical low in fat dessert, wouldn’t even make a budge in your normal diets but here you are eating gallon after gallon for nine months.

And you both are feeling it all the way up to Pietro’s birth.

[glassbxttless]

I would be interested in a fic like that about Gio! Thanks again.

Well, please enjoy this fic of how baby Ilaria was conceived!

Giovanni (bk joe guy) Moretti x Reader

Word Count: 1,046

Warnings: male infertility, tried again at some angst, sperm donor, pregnancy, swearing

Giovanni’s 29 when your two take your vows and Giovanni’s 30 when he brings up starting a family. You knew Gio wanted a big family, much like his own parents. Ten people were living in their home when Gio was a baby— he remembers always having his sisters to play with. His brother took him out for gelato and to the beach when he could.

But now Gio’s 32 and you’ve been trying for your baby every cycle since you two first brought it up, a little over two years ago now. And that’s when you make your appointment with the fertility specialist. And you and Giovanni sit in a room after your exams, nervously picking at your fingernails. Gio’s quick to reassure you that everything’s fine, that you two just aren’t getting timing right. And Gio’s heart breaks the second they tell him it’s essentially his fault you two can’t conceive.

You sit there and hold his hand as your clinician explains that Giovanni’s sperm count is severely low. He asks how long you two have been trying and you have to answer the question. Gio’s too lost in his own mind to respond to anything. But the clinician reminds him it isn’t impossible to conceive, just really hard. And when Gio drives the two of you home, he doesn’t say a word. And it’s like that for the next few days. He wakes up, works at his desk, and sits silently at dinner, until it’s time for bed. And while he’s stripping down to his boxers, looking over at your resting silhouette, you sigh deeply.

“Gio.” You say quietly, lifting yourself up to a sitting position. “We should talk about this…”

“What is there to talk about?” He asks softly. “You heard them. I’m probably not going to get you pregnant, we probably won’t have kids.”

“We have options, babe.” You say quietly. “We just have to discuss them… and we can’t discuss them if you keep ignoring the conversation.”

He’s lifting the blanket and sliding into bed next to you, “what are our options?” He asks quietly and leans up on his arm, a hand resting against your thigh.

“Well… can look into adoption… donor sperm… anything really.” You say softly and tuck a bit of his hair back, fixing his gold chain so the clasp is at the back. “We’ll have a baby, Giovanni. Don’t worry about that okay?”

“You know how much I love hearing you say my name?” He asks softly, grinning ear to ear as he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss. “Gonna keep trying to fuck a baby into you.” He whispers as he moves his body over you. “And we’ll look more into those options in the morning.”

And that’s how you and Gio end up in the consultation room at a fancy sperm bank in Milan a month after, flipping through page after page of descriptions of handsome men, not quite meeting everything Gio had to offer. Until he stops on a page, “Donor 617.” He mumbles quietly, reading through physical traits and accomplishments. “Sounds like he looks like me.” He says softly and shrugs.

“Is that the one then?” You ask quietly, reading over the description. They’re smart, sound handsome, and the eyes sell it. You wanted someone with Gio’s brown eyes. His fun and goofy personality. And as you two look over the baby photos of Donor 617 that were provided, he comments that it sorta looks like him as a baby. And Giovanni just nods a little and smiles.

And it’s a lot of money, having two insemination attempts in your first cycle. And it costs even more for the two insemination attempts in your next cycle. And the one after that they inform you there isn’t any more of Donor 617 left and if this didn’t work, you’d have to try again with a different sample. And Gio is hoping and praying. Something you haven’t ever seen him do. His rosary even makes an appearance in the kitchen again, hanging on the hook right above the hutch. And three weeks after that insemination— you get your positive pregnancy test.

And Giovanni is elated. “Is it really positive? Take another one, please.” He says softly as he holds the one test, with very faint lines, in his hands.

“I’ll take another… but it’s a positive, baby.” You say softly as you press a kiss into his hair and hug him tightly where he sits. He wraps an arm around your thighs, tearing up at the sight of the plus.

“We’re gonna be parents, Cuore Mio. We’re really doing this.” He says softly and smiles at you. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs, tucking back his hair. “We did it this time.”

“You’ve been such a champ, Gio. I’m so proud of you.” You whisper quietly. You know it probably wasn’t easy for him to sit back and have to choose another man’s sperm for you two. And you know it probably won’t be easy for him to watch you grow someone else’s biological child. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” He whispers and nuzzles his nose against your belly, closing his eyes. “And I love you, little one.” He whispers so softly, you barely hear it. You run your fingers through his hair and then pull it back into a small bun, banding it off.

“I’ll make the appointment for us. Okay?” She smiles softly. “I’ve got a good feeling about this time.”

Giovanni just smiles and nods, “I know we did it. This is gonna be our perfect little baby. The one we’ve been waiting all this time for.” He pats his lap and wraps his arms around you once you sit. “I can’t believe it.” He says quietly and nuzzles your shoulder.

He wants to tell his mama, but he bites his tongue. Waits until he can. Waits until it’s safe. And he’s so fucking happy. He’s so proud. He wants this as much as any one of his siblings wanted their children. And he’s hoping that his child will understand the way that they were conceived one day. That he’s sorry that he couldn’t fix it. But that he’d love them regardless.

*

*

@tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @mrs-zimmerman @cornmousequeen

[glassbxttless]

"You let her wear that on to school on picture day? Why?" Gio as dad to a wild little girl

Giovanni has two babies, a girl named Ilaria (who’s 5 and in her first year of school) and a boy named Pietro (who’s 2).

And Gio’s been talking about hanging their school photos up on the walls since they were born. His mama and papa did it for all of their kids and he’s going to do it for his.

But when Ilaria throws a fit about wearing a blue top and a bright pink tutu one day to school, you decide not to fight that losing battle and send her on her way.

She may have even had a fake pearl necklace on.

And about three weeks later, Gio’s bursting into your bedroom where you have Pietro latched onto your breast to feed, and you’re reading the two of them a bedtime story in Italian.

“I need a minute with your mama, kids.” Gio says softly, waiting at the door until they’re whining and pushing each other out of the room.

You’re confused as you fix the top of your shirt, looking at Gio. “What’s wrong?”

He’s mumbling to himself in a mixture of English and Italian before he pinches the bridge of his nose and shows you the photos he’d taken out of Ilaria’s bag. “Why would you let her wear that on picture day?”

And your heart drops. “I didn’t know it was picture day.” You say quietly.

“It’s been on the calendar for weeks, cuore mio.” He sighs deeply.

“Hey, we’ll just get the retakes. Calm down.” You say softly and watch as his shoulder visibly relax. “It’s okay. You’ll have your photo for the wall.”

Gio laughs and takes his head, dipping down and kissing you gently.

“But you’re fighting with her and dressing her.” You smile.

[mrs-gucci]

cece, darling, you CANNOT do this to me just as I’m about to go to bed 🤤🥵 jesus christ.

don't think about Gio fucking you and nice and deep in the middle of the vineyard. breathing hot and heavy in your neck as your sundress gets stained and all you can smell is the greenery and Earth. he's mumbling about how you're gonna look so fucking good pregnant for him and how you take his cock so well.

ENJOY MY BRAIN WORMS PLEASE

Giovanni (bk joe guy) Moretti x Reader

Word Count: 1,352

Warnings: female reader, swearing, oral f receiving, PIV sex, loosely translated Italian

It’s the middle of August, the sun is warm against your skin. Your hands are intertwined as you walk, cutting through the air as they swing. Giovanni’s smile is bright, he’s got that blanket his mama made tucked over his arm. The wind is blowing his hair around enough he’s frustrated his hair tie had broken halfway through your walk.

And he picks a quiet place in the back of the vineyard, surrounded by grape vines and blackberry bushes. “I think this is the place.” He chuckles softly, spreading that quilted blanket out along the plush grass. It’s too high back here, he knows. He’ll cut it down eventually, but today was about his love and his love only. You’re quick to place the picnic basket down, wanting to share that blackberry pie you’d made earlier in the day. Sitting on the blanket, sandals sitting at the side, you pull your legs up under you. Gio’s laying down next to you happily. Arm propping his head up as he looks over at his new bride.

Your wedding band was a gift from his nonna, just like his was the one his nonno wore his entire married life. You’ve got the prettiest smile on your face, when you pull two wine glasses out of the basket, filling them with the nice white wine Gio had brought along. He’s quiet, looking up at the vines as you hand him a glass. “Everything okay, G?” You ask, lips against the edge of your glass. His eyes cut deep when he looks at you, sipping on his own glass of wine. He sits up, still leaning on one arm. The sun is hitting the gold of his wedding band, his hair is falling in his face, the top three buttons of his shirt are left unbuttoned so it’s showing off his chest, and you can’t believe how lucky you’ve gotten. You can hardly believe you’ve uprooted your seamstress life in New York, to be a wine maker’s wife in Sicily.

“Everything’s perfect, Cuore Mio.” He says it with that award winning smile. The one you had fallen in love with so long before. He’s crazy about you and you’re crazy about him. He catches sight of how close you are to the blackberry bushes and he reaches over to pluck a few off their stems, inspecting one quickly and quietly before he’s popping it into his mouth. You watch the way his lips close around the bite quietly, the way he swallows and maybe he notices. Maybe he makes a show of it, just for you. “Would you like one?”

And he’s picking another blackberry, holding it up to your lips. You’re smiling when you close your own lips around his fingers, biting down on the berry gently. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, the chino’s he’s got on suddenly not as loose as they were before. And you know exactly what you’re doing. He’s leaning towards you, smiling as you capture him into a plush kiss. His hand places the glass down in the grass beside your blanket, then it’s finding your hip. His fingers are rumpling up the fabric of that pretty white sundress. It’s bunching up at your waist, his hand is gliding from your hip, down the skin of your thighs. “Cuore Mio, I’ve been thinking about our wedding a lot recently.” His fingers are tantalizing against the inside of your thighs.

“Yeah? What do you remember?” You ask, fingers brushing back his hair, as his kisses trail down your neck. He’s pushing the basket out of the way as he lies you back, not even caring if the wine glasses have spilled or if you’ve yet to dig into that pie.

“I remember that pretty emerald brooch you wore to dinner the evening before.” He’s pressing his lips against your collarbone now. “And how nice you looked sitting on your windowsill that night.” His teeth are digging in now, just so gently. You feel the whimper that leaves your lips, and the smile his tug up into isn’t unnoticed either. “Remember hiking that dress up in our room, kissing every inch of this body— your body.” His eyes flick up to yours as his fingers brush up closer to your core. He’s so fucking hard, but he knows every second he waits, every second he winds you up— is so worth it. “How you could hardly say my name.” He’s humming against your skin, sucking deep bruises there. He’s moving his fingers against your panties, teasingly. He thinks about pulling them to the side, but not yet. Not until he’s burying his face under your pretty dress.

It takes him only a few seconds to connect your lips in another kiss, and then dip down between your thighs. He could eat you out all day, drink you up like the finest wine Sicily has to offer. He’s tugging your panties down, pressing kiss after kiss against your calves in their wake. He tosses them to the side, they’re bunching up in the grass next to you both. And he admires you for a moment. Every bit of his life gets to be spent with you. You share his name now, and he couldn’t be prouder. And when his lips connect over your dripping cunt, he hears the gasp you’re desperate to hold back. He snakes a hand up to spread you open wide, just for him, licking at every inch of you he can. And you’re reminded again of just how fucking lucky you are when he attaches those lips to your clit and coaxes a gentle finger into you.

Your hands tug his hair, when you feel so close to tumbling over. When you just want your orgasm so badly. But you know it’s better if you’re patient. It’s better to wait. And his chin is wet, as he grins and sits up. He uses the back of his arm to wipe his face before he’s hovering above you. You’re working that faux leather belt open, telling him just how nice that top makes his skin look. The sunlight is hitting his chain, the one you’ve only ever seen off on your wedding day. He’s working down his chino’s and his underwear just enough to guide himself into your waiting cunt. The blanket is balling up underneath you with the force of Gio’s first thrust into you. And you can’t help the yelp it elicits. You can smell the grass around you, the berries and grapes, the sweat beading up on your bodies. You can feel Giovanni’s body moving with yours, giving all of his love to you. His breath is hot against your neck, “god you’re so beautiful.” You hear him whisper, “Cuore Mio, you’re gonna look so good, carrying my babies.” He’s moving his hips harder, faster, his hand finding your jaw to twist your face towards his.

“Giovanni…” you manage to choke out, that familiar pit in your stomach is growing larger and larger. You feel like you’re about to burst. And Gio’s close too. The way he’s covering your cheekbone in kisses to hide the way his rhythm has faulted.

“Here it comes, Cuore Mio. Do you want it? You want my cum?” He mumbles against the skin right under your ear. And his hand is moving from your jaw to rub harsh circles against your clit. He wants an answer, but you aren’t sure you can put the words together.

“I want it.” You manage quietly, eyes squeezing tight and your heels are digging into his hips as you cum yourself. He thrusts once more before burying his seed deep inside of you, groaning into your neck quietly. No one will hear you, no one will see.

Your dress is stained with spilled wine and grass, your underwear are stuffed in Gio’s pocket as he redresses himself and fixes his belt. “They’ve probably got ants in them anyway.” He teases, making sure he gets a nice look at your ass as you pack up the picnic, saving your pie for later in the evening.

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@tashastrange89 @daughterofaries @mrs-zimmerman @cornmousequeen @mrs-kylo-ren @peachyproserpina @mrs-gucci