Matt x pregnant!reader who is craving katchup. Just how he would react to her wanting to eat it with everything and his way to deal with it, considering he hates it. (Not sure if this makes a full story, so if you want to just talk about it, it’s okay).
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤKETCHUP * MATT STURNIOLO
SUMMARY :: where Y/N is pregnant and craving ketchup in the middle of the night
FEATURING Matt Sturniolo x pregnant!reader
WARNINGS :: pregnancy
AUTHOR'S NOTE :: that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
Y/N's senses came back with force on the Tuesday morning, a strange urge in her stomach bombarding her from every side of her body. She looked at the clock beside the bed with sleepy eyes and frowned when she saw that it was only six o'clock in the morning.
"Ketchup." She muttered to herself in a low tone. "I need ketchup."
Matt, her husband, was lying next to her, still sleeping peacefully, his right arm wrapped protectively around her 8-month belly. The woman hesitated for a moment, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and curiosity. Should she wake him up to satisfy her bizarre ketchup craving? She shook her head, deciding to let him rest.
Carefully sliding out of bed, Y/N put on her light pink robe - which was draped over Matt's gaming chair - and headed downstairs towards the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee wafted through the air, having been made automatically by the coffee machine on the counter, but all she could think about was the taste of ketchup.
Y/N opened the fridge and found a bottle hidden behind some jars of jelly. With a satisfied smile, she leaned over and picked it up, clutching it as if it were the most precious item in the world, before opening one of the drawers on the counter next to the stove and taking out a spoon, opening the lid of the industrialized product and starting to devour it pure.
While she was there, deep in her strange morning desire, Matt appeared in the kitchen doorway, his hands rubbing his sleepy eyes and his clothes rumpled, showing that he had just gotten up. He looked at her with a confused expression, his blue eyes running over her figure leaning against the gray refrigerator.
"What the hell are you doing, sweetheart?" He asked, yawning loudly.
Y/N shrugged, embarrassed.
"I don't know. I just... need ketchup, I guess."
Matt raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but deciding not to say anything else. If there was anything he had learned during those 8 months, it was that you shouldn't question a pregnant woman. Instead, he simply approached her and wrapped his arms around her body, kissing the top of her head lovingly.
"I'll make breakfast." He said softly. "With... ketchup, if you want." His voice came out reluctantly, remnants of his feeling of disgust for the product dripping into his sentence.
Y/N smiled brightly, feeling grateful for her husband's silent support, nodding her head quickly. Together, they prepared a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, her dishes all covered generously with ketchup.
Throughout the day, Y/N continued to have strange cravings for ketchup. She put it on her salad, her turkey sandwich, and even her pizza. Matt looked at his wife with a mixture of disgust and horror, but he didn't say a word of protest, swallowing hard as the nausea rose in his throat each time the smell of the sauce rose to his nostrils.
Late in the afternoon, as Y/N devoured a burger covered in ketchup, she finally felt satisfied. The woman looked at Matt with a tired smile, feeling grateful for his unwavering support.
"Thanks for letting me eat all that ketchup today." She joked shyly, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
"It's not my favorite, but if it makes you happy, then I'm happy too." Matt shrugged, smiling back at her, glancing from the corner of his eye at the red bottle still on the table.
Y/N leaned her body slightly towards him, making a small pout, expecting a kiss, but all she received was Matt's palm pressing against her lips gently.
"Go brush your teeth first, honey. Everything has a limit."
© vanteguccir