#take a chill pill friend

[puhpandas]

I think the reason beckory works well is that tony has a habit of getting self righteous and in his own head about things but Gregory isnt afraid to tell him off or call him out about things. the point of tony in ggy is that nobody ever told him that how hes treating other people isnt good, so that's why he got so bad. but tony would be close to Gregory and have every rational reason in the world to listen to Gregory so when he would say something like "you're treating ellis badly and that's not what a good friend does, you need to do better" hed actually listen and take it into account and improve himself

[hitemwiththeoop]

they butchered the avatars. they freaking butchered them what the hell was that 😭

they went along with kyoshi's misconception as a ruthless murderer. they made roku look and act so goofy it was ridiculous. and they showed kuruk 1st season only to have him say some wack ass shit about pushing your friends away because they're a burden like the other two said what the actual fuck was that

[mamawasatesttube]

kon is sitting next to tim looking at him adoringly while he talks about why nissans are better than mitsubishis and he looks across the cave to see greta glaring at him from the shadows until he moves three inches away

maybe if you got on kon's level and actively listened to tim infodumping about cars he'd also do it at you, greta :/

[quietlyblooms]

on a separate note, i'm in the mood for starters, so!! please tap the heart for a lil something! i ask that multi's specify, otherwise your starter may be vague rather than personalized. i may also approach you for a little bit of plotting if i can't think of a fun scenario on my own, though this will mainly apply if we have yet to write together. sometimes it's just easier if i have an idea of how our muses will interact with each other!

there will be a tentative cap of 5, though i may write more if i feel up to it!

[the-somwthing]

canon scott: typically chill, thinks things through, has lots of allies and people tend to like him, he tends to survive till the end, in watcher lore the watchers kind of hate him because he didn’t go through with the boogeyman curse but yknow.

cringefail au scott: has lost all semblance of chill, everyone hates him, dies stupidly, watchers hate his guts simply because they think he’s annoying

I love this roleplay 😭

[mwolf0epsilon]

To whomever sent me a 12 ask essay about the new TBB episode proving Crosshair is a redeemable babygirl who did nothing wrong and that disliking him as a character makes me some kind of closed-minded simpleton that only pretends she's deep:

Ya man's a clown. I don't like clowns.

[flaresanimedump]

Chuuya's not my #1 bitch in BSD but there's something so charming about how he comes off as the one normie who loves all his weird fucked up friends while being constantly worried over and harassed by their antics

[hearts-hunger]

I can’t listen to the interview, I refresh tumblr and now i’m hearing double record LIKE BRO WHAT IS HAPPENING WHAT ARE THEY SAYING

YEAH IDK EITHER???? i can't listen to the interview either and every time i refresh the dash i get new scary information help

[samurailogic]

I feel like I've been getting worse at digital art specifically. I don't know, I mean sometimes I shift over to another program temporarily to get myself together again in a way, but ai dee kay. I feel like I can't draw unless it's in a college ruled spiral notebook which I don't know if that just means I'm not the most skilled at art Period but either way drawing on le computer is getting tiring

[iamnotcoolaboutit]

casual case of overthinking strikes again!

[sus-bee]

i am loved and valued. and i will remember i am loved and valued. huah.

[femonologue]

Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

[fleetsparrow]

As someone who cannot swallow pills with water, I am forever in awe of those of you who are normal about it.

What order do you take pills in?

[girlygguk]

NOT JUST ON CHRISTMAS ⋆ JJK

he's the first boy you've ever brought home for christmas. jungkook's nervous. you're horny.

🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 4 of 6

pairing nerdy!jk x gf!reader

genre established relo, college au, fluff, smut (18+ mdni)

content jk 21 | yn 21, spirited extro gf x soft angel bf, jk comes home w oc for the holidays, he’s so soft and shy, until he isn’t oop, i triedd w the context but this rlly is just oc getting the xmas dicking she deserves, kissing, cursing, switchy soft dom jk, giddy subby oc, they try to keep quiet, keyword try, dirty talk, cunnilingus, jk's a munch, condomless p in v sex, oc on pill, creampie, they're literal angels & i would die for them

word count 4.8k

banner by the gorgeously gifted @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

“My mom loves you.”

“You think?” Jungkook’s lips tilt into a soft smile, his hand warm and steady as it glides over your thigh, draped comfortably across his waist. “She’s amazing. I see her in you a lot.”

Your nose scrunches as you smile softly into the curve of his arm, your fingers absently tracing along his chest. When your nails graze over his nipple, you feel it perk up under your touch, and you can’t resist pressing a light kiss to the skin beneath your lips.

“You’re so easy to love, baby,” you murmur, your voice muffled slightly against his arm. But you know he hears you from the way his chest rises and falls a little faster, betraying the quiet effect you always have on him. “Had me whipped from the first time I saw you.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows cutely, the same expression he always makes when you say this. He never quite believes it, even now. You can tell he’s picturing that day—how you noticed him tucked into the back of the freshman seminar, seated in a corner with his laptop angled slightly, like a shield in case someone dared to take the empty seat beside him.

That someone had been you.

Coming to Seoul for university had been a big deal—not just for you, but for your family and everyone back home in Namhae-gun who’d cheered you on. You weren’t naturally gifted in academics the way your boyfriend was, but you worked hard, just like he did. You’d taken every extra shift you could at your local little grocer, worked the after-school care program at Sannie’s elementary school, and with some help from your mom and stepdad, you pieced together what your scholarship didn’t cover.

With that, you packed your clothes and favorite trinkets from your childhood bedroom, said goodbye to your family and the friends you’d known your whole life, and set off for the big, bright Seoul city.

It was bittersweet. Namhae-gun had been your whole world, but Seoul was your dream. And now, as you looked at Jungkook beside you, his pretty face soft in the dim light of your room, you realized he was now your new both. Your world and your dream. Your present and your future.

You still talked to your best friends, Lila and Jimin, nearly every night over FaceTime, Jungkook joining most times. He’d been so adorably shy the first time they demanded to meet him, visibly nervous they wouldn’t like him. It still baffled you sometimes, how he could think that way. How he didn’t see himself the way you did.

Because, in your eyes, he was everything. The cutest, dorkiest, sexiest nerd you’d ever met—you’d kill for him. You knew Lila and Jimin would fall for him too. And they did.

Your extroverted best friends even begged him for his socials, which he shyly handed over, his cheeks pink as he spoke out his handles. He almost choked on his own saliva when Lila let out the loudest moan mid-call, suddenly thrusting her iPad at the screen to show his latest post. It was a photo of the two of you at the beach—you, in a little multicolored bikini holding the camera out, and Jungkook with his big, wet chest on full, bare display beside you.

You couldn’t help but giggle in agreement at her thirsting over your handsome boyfriend, cupping the side of his burning face as he ducked his head into your neck. His linked arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as you nestled in his lap.

“Angel?” he murmured quietly into your neck. “Why would she say t-that?”

The disappointment—and maybe even slight annoyance—in his pouty tone made you want to slam your laptop shut and take him as far down your throat as you could. Instead, you’d cooed softly, turning your head to kiss his warm cheek and whispering in his ear that she was, in fact, a raging lesbian.

“Oh,” he whispered back, tickling your skin. “Okay.” His pout relaxed, and you felt the softest, relieved little smile on his lips against your neck.

You had bitten back a moan of your own at how much that turned you on, turning to pepper his round cheek with a hundred kisses until his blush faded and the corners of his lips tugged into a cute little bunny grin. You smiled fondly at the memory of Jimin groaning dramatically while Lila yelled at you to go lower.

“Your stepdad asked me to join him for golf tomorrow.”

Jungkook’s soft, nervous voice pulls you from your thoughts. You hum in surprise and beam up at him, fingers brushing lightly along his tummy. “Really? Oh, baby, that’s so great. Are you going to go?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, swallowing hard. His throat bobs as he glances down at you, your cheek now pressed against his chest. His hand lingers at your waist, fingers curling gently into your soft skin. “Would you… would you like to come?”

You coo softly, nodding as your lips brush the curve of his collarbone. “If you want me to, honey,” you murmur, your mouth pressing a little kiss to his pebbled nipple. His chest stutters with a throaty breath, and you grin against his skin. “I’d love to.”

“Always want you to come with me, baby,” he breathes, his voice unsteady as you tilt your head, lips wrapping softly around the bud. Your gaze drifts up lazily to his beautiful face, his eyes already half-lidded. “E-everywhere I go. Wish I could take you.”

“Mmm.” The hum vibrates against his chest as your hand slides up to scratch lightly over his other nipple, your teeth grazing over the one caught between your lips. His hips shift beneath you, his breath catching as his pants pick up. “I’ll follow you wherever you go, my love."

Jungkook tries to stifle the whine rising in his throat, but it slips out anyway, soft and desperate, when your teeth scrape just a little harder over his nipple. His fingers flex at your waist, gripping you tighter.

“Ahh,” he heaves under his breath, his head lolling softly into the pillow. “Baby, we-we can’t.”

You hum, brow arching slightly in amused defiance. “And why is that, honey?” Your lips brush over both of his nipples, one flushed red and swollen from your mouth, the other stiff and sensitive from your nails.

“B-because,” he stammers, his eyes fluttering open just in time to catch you tossing the blanket off your waists and shifting to straddle his lap. His breath hitches as your thighs settle around him, your body hovering prettily above his. He swallows hard, his focus slipping as he tries to gather himself. “Your parents, angel. What if they—”

You cut him off with a soft kiss, your palms flattening against his chest as you lean in to steal his breath. His exhale trembles through his nose, and he lets out a desperate mewl when he tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing your lips. You pull back just enough to keep him chasing you.

“Their room’s on the other side of the house, my darling,” you murmur against his lips, your voice low and sweet. “So is Sannie’s. Nobody’s gonna hear your cute little noises.”

Jungkook flushes a deep pink at that, his pout immediate and utterly adorable. You dissolve into giggles, your nose brushing his as he huffs. He doesn’t correct you, though. He knows better and so do you. You’re always the one who can’t stay quiet during sex, no matter how much he whispers please, baby, they’re gonna hear us against your skin.

The thought makes your heart race. Sometimes you still can’t believe he was a virgin before you. Not with the way he fucks. Sweet and shy as he is, Jeon Jungkook turns into something else entirely when he’s inside you.

Your first time together had been soft and clumsy and perfect. Tucked into the covers of his dorm bed while his roommate Taehyung spent the night at his girlfriend’s place. He’d asked if you were okay a hundred times, his hands shaking against your skin as he moved so carefully, so sweetly. You’d never felt more loved.

But the second time?

Once he stopped asking if you were alright every thirty seconds, once he started trusting you when you told him you fucking loved it and to keep going, he went.

Oh, how he fucking went.

That second night, your own roommate had come back early—earlier than she said she would—and screamed the moment she opened the door. She’d walked in to find your shy, soft-spoken, nerdy boyfriend fucking you raw from behind on your bed, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusted you back and forth on his cock, your makeup-smeared face buried in the pillow, your throat raw from begging.

“We’ll be quiet,” you lie softly against his mouth, your lips brushing his as you lean back down, rolling your hips over his stiffening cock. The thin fabric of your Christmas pajama shorts drags over his matching pants, the friction making him shudder beneath you. “Haven’t fucked me since yesterday morning, baby,” you pout, leaning up with a little huff, bouncing brattily in his lap. “You hate me.”

“D-don’t ever say that again, baby,” he husks, his voice so fucking low as you begin to grind your slickening core against him. “Love you more than life itself.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, your tone turning smug, satisfied. You drag yourself along the length of him again, slow and pointed, humming at the way he twitches beneath you. Leaning down, you hover just over his parted lips, so close your breaths mingle. “You love me that much, baby?”

He’s fighting it—you can see it. The way his jaw tightens, his brows knitting. His throat works around a sound he’s determined to swallow. His resolve is wavering. His control crumbling—or crumbled, he doesn't fucking know—as you roll your hips again, the wet heat of you seeping through the fabric between you.

“That mu-much, baby,” he chokes out, his voice strained. His long fingers dig gently into the soft flesh of your waist, guiding you as you move against him, his grip both a plea and a surrender all at once.

Your lips curl into a triumphant smile against his as you grind yourself back and forth with just a bit more pressure. You feel the way his breath hitches, the way his resistance falters. He knows he’s already lost.

And you know it too when his big hands slide under the hem of your little green singlet, patterned with tiny reindeers and snowflakes, gripping your hips firmly before flipping you both over.

Your big eyes blink up at him, maybe a little too giddy, as he hovers above you. He shakes his head softly, his bunny nose twitching, and then leans down to take the kind of kiss he’s been craving all day.

The kind of kiss he’s wanted since dinner, when your parents were fawning over him between bites of food, praising him for everything from his sweet nature to his thoughtful gift for San.

The one he hasn’t had a chance to steal since he was sitting nervously beside you on the living room couch, watching your baby brother open the limited-edition Iron Man figure Jungkook had picked out just for him. Sannie had sprinted up to your boyfriend, his tiny arms wrapping around him, hugging him so tight and calling him the best hyungie he’s ever had.

And, yeah, okay, maybe he cried a little.

It’s the first time all day he’s had you to himself, the first time since yesterday afternoon. The afternoon he’d spent with you in the communal kitchen at your college, baking the Christmas tree-shaped cookies you’d brought home for your family in a big container.

The same cookies he had snuck an extra one to Sannie, even when you told your little brother no more after two. He couldn't help it, folding instantly when the adorable kid tugged on his sleeve with those big, pleading eyes—the ones that reminded him a little too much of you.

Jungkook thought you hadn’t noticed, but of course you did. You’d stood quietly in the doorway, watching as your gentle giant boyfriend snuck two cookies from the container and handed one to San, his lips twitching with a soft laugh when your brother shoved the whole thing into his mouth like Jungkook might change his mind and take it back.

The feeling of your lips wrapping around his tongue pulls him back to the present, and he lets out a breathy groan into your mouth. You swallow it greedily, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist as you tug his warm, solid weight down into you, relishing in having him pressed so heavily against you.

“Needa be quiet, baby,” he says, his voice low and breathy, maybe even a little whiny as he pulls away reluctantly. “C-can’t have your dad hearing us. I won’t be able to play golf with him tomorrow if I can’t look him in the eye.”

You hum as your lips chase his, dazed and unbothered. “You hate golf,” you murmur absently, your hands sliding up to cradle the sides of his neck, your thumbs brushing soft, hot skin. Then your tongue slips past his lips again.

He lets out something between a grunt and a laugh, his resistance melting away as his big tongue laps against yours. You taste the faint trace of toothpaste as you kiss him deeper, chasing every last hint of it, your body tingling as you take his tongue further into your mouth.

It’s no surprise that he’s already fully hard, just like it’s no surprise that you’re already fucking drenched. His stiff cock presses down against your stomach, and your hips buck instinctively at the feeling, a mewly moan spilling from your lips without care.

His hand slides up from your waist to wrap gently around your throat, and your brows furrow in pleased anticipation through closed eyes, silently hoping he’ll squeeze harder. He does, in a way, his fingers pressing softly against the sides of your neck, enough to make your head spin. The kiss slows as he pulls back slightly, leaving you pouty and blinking up at him.

His cheeks are flushed, his soft lips slightly swollen, his big, gorgeous nose marked faintly on the bridge from where his glasses had rested earlier. He looks down at you before speaking, his voice reluctant, heavy with the words he feels he has to say.

“Quiet, please, angel.”

You lick your lips, trying to chase more of his taste. “Okay, cutie,” you say with a sweet smile, nodding softly as you gaze up at him. “I’ll be quiet.”

His tongue darts out to lick over his lips, as if he’s doing the same as you, before he smiles knowingly. “Liar.”

He’s back on your mouth, his fingers still brushing softly over your throat as his lips capture yours again. This time, he takes your tongue into his mouth, sucking in a way that’s both soft and firm, pulling wet, breathy pants from you chest. Your ankles tighten around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. There’s not even any fucking space between you, but you're not a quitter, grinding pathetically up into him, hips searching for the angle you need.

And then you find it.

“mmmM,” you whine as his hard, covered cock presses perfectly through your pussy lips.

Jungkook groans low into your mouth at the feeling, his lips and tongue moving with messily with yours. He’s devouring you, the wet, sticky sounds of your kissing filling the room as you grind yourself shamelessly against him. The friction is heavy, perfect as his cock is stiff and hot beneath the thin barrier of his pajama pants. Your hips move instinctively, searching for more, harder, faster, anything to ease the ache between your legs.

His hand tightens around your throat, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to keep your head swimming. His lips break from yours with a slick little pop, leaving your lips humming and eyes hazy as they meet his flushed face. His eyes are wide and wet as his grip on your neck loosens, trailing down to your waist.

“Needa taste it, baby,” he rasps, his voice wrecked as he slips lower, dragging his big frame down the bed. “Please baby? Need to taste you.”

The words make your head spin, and you breathing out a pleading god yes baby as his hands grip the waistband of your shorts, tugging them and your panties down in one motion. The cool air against your slick heat makes you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his big tongue licking a fat stripe right up your drippy folds.

“Baby—fuckk,” you breathe, your thighs trembling as his mouth works into you. He’s messy with it, always is, his tongue dipping inside your hole, then dragging back up to swivel around your clit. His big nose presses against you as he eats, throat humming and brows furrowing like they always do when he tastes a really good dish.

He pulls back just enough to breathe out, “S-so yummy, baby. I love it. Love it so fucking much.” His lips latch onto your clit, sucking it between his lips and humming dirtily, making your hips jerk up into his face.

“Hahhh,” you whimper, your voice high and dumb as your hands tangle in his hair, tugging hard when his tongue flicks even faster. “Shit, Jung- baby, uuh—”

Jungkook moans into your pussy, the sound high-pitched and needy, vibrating against your soppy heat. His jaw drops as he pushes in deeper, taking your whole pussy into his big mouth, completely forgetting the need for either of you to shut the fuck up. You’re dripping everywhere, your slick coating his lips and chin, and he laps it all up like an eager dog, his hands gripping your plushy thighs to keep you spread wide.

He lifts his head just long enough to suck in a breath before gathering a thick pool of spit in his mouth. He leans back down, face burying between your legs, and lets the saliva drool onto your folds before dragging his tongue through the mess, licking and lapping it all back up greedily.

Your body writhes under him, your head sinking back into the pillow as one hand fists tighter in his hair and the other grips the sheets desperately. Your mind reels, fragments of random thoughts flashing through it—the curve of the statue of liberty, the lucky quarter you found on your walk with him in the city, the moment you first kissed. Everything and nothing blurs together and you realize with a hum that your life is flashing right before your fucking eyes.

You’re trembling, vibrating against the bed, choking on the little noises slipping from your lips. Another uh. And another. And another.

“God, baby. That’s— uh, fuck. So fucking good. Eat your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook whimpers into you, his voice muffled by your cunt as his head follows the desperate rut of your hips. You buck against his mouth, but his hands hold you down, his tongue relentless. “My pussy,” he breathes against your folds, the words so adorably possessive. “It’s my pussy, baby.”

“That's r-right,” you gasp, your head lifting weakly to meet the sight of him—his face filthy, drenched, his mouth and nose buried in your heat as he tongue fucks your cunt like it's his last day on earth. “Your fucking pussy, baby.”

Jungkook groans against you, wet and desperate, his hips shifting against the mattress as he thrusts into nothing, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He knows he’s close—so close that it’s embarrassing. He can feel himself leaking through the fabric, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s cumming right there in his pajama pants.

And you know it too. So you beg.

"Please, baby. Wanna cum with you, Kookie... Please."

His face morphs into a little pout as he slows, pulling away from his meal reluctantly, tongue flicking one last time at your puffy folds before his hands leave your thighs. He’s panting as he climbs back up your body, unable to deny you anything in the world, lips and chin glistening with your slick.

You smile at his wet face, your hands slipping up into his messy curls as you tug him down for a kiss. The taste of yourself on his tongue is heady, dizzying, and you let out a little moan as you suck every last bit of it from his mouth. Jungkook groans into it, the sound so low that it almost resembles a cute little growl.

When you pull back, giving his swollen, red pout one last kiss, your gaze flickers down to his hand rubbing over his painfully hard cock. You bite your lip, your eyes trailing back up to meet his as you blink, waiting patiently.

He licks his lips, leaning down for one more quick kiss as his fingers fumble at his waistband. There’s a soft shuffle, and then his cock is free, flushed and heavy in his hand as he slides it against your slick folds. Your breath catches as he lines himself up, his hooded gaze locked on yours, brows furrowed in concentration.

He doesn’t need to look. His cock presses into you with an ease that has you keening, the thick head stretching you open as he pushes in. You feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper, feeding you more and more until your nails dig into his shoulders. The burn makes your jaw fall open, your head tipping back against the pillow.

“Ah,” he groans, his voice breaking as he bottoms out. “It’s so warm, baby—”

You’re already trembling, your walls fluttering around him as he starts to move, pulling out all the way before sinking right back in. “So big, Jungkookie,” you whimper, your fingers gripping his shoulders. “F-fuck, I love your dick so much.”

“Yeah?”

There it fucking is.

“You love it, baby? Love this fucking cock, baby?” he rasps, his hips snapping harder now, the loud, wet sound of his balls slapping against your ass filling the room.

“It’s yours.” Slap. “Your fucking cock.” Slap. “Will always be your fucking cock.”

Your pussy clamps around him, eyes rolling back as choked fucks spill from your lips. You can’t answer, your voice lost to your moans, your body arching into his as he pounds into you, each thrust hitting that spot inside that makes your vision blur. You barely register the slam of the headboard against the wall, too cock-drunk to care as he presses a big hand to your belly.

“Feel that?” he growls, his palm firm against your abdomen. “Feel me, baby? Fucking up inside of you right here?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp, your hands scrambling for purchase against his back. “Oh my god, yes, yes—”

His other hand slides up your body, under your singlet to find your nipple and roll it between his fingers. The sensation makes you jerk against him, your cries spilling freely now. “So loud,” he mutters, though his lips quirk like he’s fucking proud of it. “God, you just can’t help it, can you, baby?”

He knows you love it when he talks to you like this. You’ve told him so more than once. He didn’t know how he felt about it at first, but when it had you cumming harder, whining more, it wasn’t really a choice anymore. He’d do anything to make you feel like that, give you anything you wanted.

You don’t have a chance to respond—not coherently, at least. His thumb drags from your hip, slipping down to your swollen, throbbing clit. He rubs big, messy, wet circles over the sensitive nub, and your vision shakes as you feel it coming.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans when you let out that shaky little noise and that trembling clench you always do when you’re about to cum. “Cum for me. Let me feel it. Cum on your cock, baby.”

Yes. Yes.

“Yes!” you scream, your body seizing up, waves of pleasure crashing through you as you cry out, your hands slipping from his hair, nails raking down his bare back as you orgasm. “Baby, uh—fuck!”

He doesn’t slow, his hips pounding into you as his own release builds. “G-gonna fill you up,” he chokes out, his thrusts erratic now. “Fuckkkk, baby, gonna cum so fucking deep inside you.”

“Yes,” you whimper the only word you seem to know. “Wannit so bad, Kookie.” You slur, voice breaking as he keeps fucking into you like a fleshlight. “Wanna feel your cum fill up my fucking pussy, baby, g-g-godddd.”

He shudders above you, his hips snapping hard with one long, deep thrust as he chokes out a cuumming, baby before spilling into you, his deep moan vibrating through your bedroom.

His thumb doesn’t stop.

He’s panting hard, hips fucking in and out of your leaking hole while you milk every last drop of sticky cum from his softening cock. “Come on, angel, gimmie one more, please. Please, angel.”

He’s pleading. You’re dying. Your body is convulsing, clenching and squeezing around his cock, somehow pulling even more of his load when he thought he had no more left to fucking give.

“One more, baby. That’s it. That’s it. There we go.”

Your eyes roll back, the dirtiest moan tearing from your throat as you squeal and shake around his cock. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first. He works you through it, rocks you through it, pushing his hips flush against yours so the head of his cock bulges and pulses against your g-spot, spelling his name on your clit with his thumb while you give him one fucking more.

Your chest heaves as your body trembles beneath him, your hands clutching weakly around his sides. Jungkook’s hips still, his cock twitching inside you as he breathes heavily, his forehead pressing softly against yours. He lifts his thumb from your clit, panting, and brings it to his lips without thinking, sucking your slick from his finger.

When he pulls it free, his eyes blink open, dazed and drunk. “I-I can’t believe we did that,” he chokes out. “We were so loud.”

You giggle softly, batting his hand away from his mouth to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down until his weight sinks against you. “Babyyy,” he groans in protest, squirming slightly. “I don’t wanna squish you.”

You grumble, your legs locking around his waist again, keeping him firmly in place. His softening cock shifts slightly inside you, and you hum contentedly. “You’re fine, my love. Perfect.”

He lets out a grumpy little whine before conceeding and resting his head in the crook of your neck. His chest rises and falls heavily against yours, his body still trembling faintly.

“It really is okay, though, baby,” you say, stroking his damp hair with one hand while your other rubs little circles over his back. “My mom and Sang-cheol are very sex positive.”

Jungkook’s body stiffens in your hold. “Angel, noo.”

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, shrugging innocently. “What? They are.”

His face burns even redder as he rubs his nose into your neck. “It’s gonna be so awkward tomorrow,” he mumbles.

You snicker, drumming his bare bum with your feet. “It’s fine, baby. I didn’t pack any golf attire by the way, so we’ll needa go to the mall in the morning. You can help me pick out a slutty little sport skirt.”

His head lifts just slightly and you swear his ears perk up like a bunny. “Okay,” he says softly, cheeks still pink. “I’d like that.”

You giggle, the sound muffled as you press a kiss to his warm cheek. “God, you’re so cute, baby.”

His lips quirk into a shy grin, his doe eyes blinking down at you. “I love you,” he whispers. “This has been the best Christmas of my life.”

Your chest tightens, and your brows furrow as you whine softly at his sweetness. “I love you too, my sweetheart,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands to press another kiss to his pout. “So much.”

His smile is soft, glowing, as he nestles back into your neck. His bare chest is warm against you, the two of you sinking into a quiet, content stillness. Your fingers brush through the damp hair at the base of his neck, his breathing evening out as your heartbeats sync.

“Angel?” His voice breaks the silence.

“Yes, my love?” you hum sleepily.

“I-I’m hard again.”

merry 23rd my darlings !! i hope you’re all having the best holidays so far, and thank u so much for all the overwhelming love and support on this silly willy journey of ours 💋 i’m sure you’ve already checked out december, but if you haven’t yet, PLEASEEE do — i swear to fuck u won’t regret it. the biggest thank u again from lovie and me, we appreciate you all endlessly 🩷🩷 see you on the 25th!! mwwwah -lyssa <3

[totalswag]

bad idea ⎯ RAFE CAMERON

authors note i’ve had this idea for the longest time. the original has been in my drafts since march (don’t ask please) anyways i decided to make a new one. this is pretty long tbh. i got inspired by this song bad idea by chris grey!

taglist ⤕ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

MASTERLIST

summary you, a pouge, sneaking around your friends backs to see rafe cameron, kook king. known to despise people from the cut. if anyone found out about they would flip.

warning(s) making out, touching intimately, mention of smut, drinking, smoking, partying, being sneaking behind friends backs.

This was a bad idea from the jump. Did that stop you two from seeing each other? Nope it didn’t. Pouge and the kook king secretly seeing each other behind everyone’s backs—no one could see that coming. You two didn't care. It's always exciting to do something you shouldn't be doing, knowing you might get caught or not.

Sneaking behind your friends' backs, specifically Sarah, Rafe's younger sister. The possibility of friends finding out about your fling would set you on fire—literally.

Rafe Cameron, kook king. Has a strong reputation on the island. Doesn't care much for pogues and will taunt them to leave figure eight's side of the island. However, the instant he lay eyes on you, you were the sole exception.

You were aware of the risks. If anyone found out, it would be a scandal. Rafe Cameron, the Kook King, is dating you despite his distaste for the Pogues? People would lose their minds. His friends would call him nuts, whilst yours would call you foolish. But none of that mattered when you were alone together and away from prying eyes.

It started at Topper Thornton’s party two months ago. The house was filled with people who were drunk, high, or crossed from both. Smell of weed reeked all over. Music was playing so loud you could barely hear anyone talk. To sum it all up, it was a crazy night.

You came with your cousin, Isabel, she insisted you come with her that night—after she begged the whole day. There were kooks everywhere. You being a pouge, you learned to get used to it.

Stayed close to Isabel the whole night as you were getting drunk—taking shots and playing multiple drinking games. You met a few of her friends that night you've never met and they were great company.

There was a moment where you felt yourself in need of fresh air outside—carefully walking towards the big doors that lead to the balcony where a bunch of people were. You took your phone out of your back pocket checking the time. Just as you were entering the house, you bumped into a strong figure.

Rafe Cameron.

“Ay you might wanna watch where you are going missy!” Rafe states in a strong tone of voice, “almost ruined my shirt with your drink” he emphasizes as if no one would notice a spill on his black t shirt.

You stopped your tracks, rolling your eyes, “you are a joke Cameron, you’ll be fine, no one will notice a spill on your black shirt” you laugh.

"Plus, I didn't spill so take a chill pill" you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly.

Rafe on the other hand wasn’t finding it funny in the slightest.

“Watch your tone with me, pouge” Rafe walks up to you, blue eyes piercing into yours—never breaking contact. “Calling me pouge isn’t gonna do you justice with me, kook” you mock, patting his chest before walking away to Isabel who’s probably wondering where you were now.

Rafe watched you go away; he was intrigued by you but didn't know why. Something about you made him feel a certain way—Rafe was going to do something about it when he sets his mind to anything, he gets it.

You exchanged sly glances to serve as a reminder of the party. He was present in each move you made. The thrill you got when you saw him made you feel excited all over. Somehow you bumped into each other again upstairs in the hallway by the restroom.

"Look who it is again," you giggle drunkenly as you approach over to Rafe, who is leaning against the wall while waiting to use the restroom.

He grumbles: "yeah, you gonna spill your drink on my shirt this time?" He questions you, tipping his head to the side and studying your expression, intrigued to hear what you are about to say.

When the restroom door opens, Rafe pulls his frame off the wall.

"Do you want me to spill my drink on you?" you mock his tone, slowly inching closer to his tall frame—you are so drunk right now you probably won't remember this.

He leans back in surprise at your response, "Mmm, maybe I do?" he asks smirking, his right hand slipping around your waist and tugging you against him. 

You drunkenly giggle into his chest as he takes you into the restroom, slamming the door behind you and locking it. You return your gaze to the locked door before returning to Rafe, who is staring at you. "Cat caught your tongue, princess?" he says, sending thrills down your spine. 

"Might as well," you say quietly.

Before you realize it, Rafe has smashed his lips into yours, lifted you, and placed you on the counter. By the end of the night, you were tangled in Rafe Cameron's bedding.

We shouldn't be here alone.

The second time you meet, you are in Rafe's truck in a remote location. Nobody ever comes to this location. Your moans as he thrusted in you were the only sounds in the truck. 

All you could think about was being caught by the cops or your friends. You were hesitant at first, but you put those feelings aside since Rafe and you wanted to see each other—everything felt so good.

The sound of his sharp, quick breathing sent chills down your spine. You knew you shouldn't be here or do this. But the feeling of him so close, his fingertips tracing your waist, left your mind blank.

I don't have much self-control when I'm around you.

This was true. Every time you saw him or felt his eyes on you, you lost yourself. Everything around you melted away. The weight of your responsibilities, the Cut's judgment, the shame for sneaking around—all vanished the moment you were in his arms. Same goes for Rafe too—he can’t stay away.

You wanted to back away. You should pull back. But you didn't. Not when his hot, demanding lips touched your neck. Not when he drew you closer, one hand sliding up your back and the other clutching your waist, as if he was scared you'd slide away.

In my head, you should see what we do in my head, it's always you in my bed.

He was never simply a regular guy. You'd been with others before, but Rafe was different. Something alluring, something wild, that you couldn't resist. It was a push-pull in his world. The one where nothing was as straightforward as it appeared, and everything felt like a game. It was the game you both played, and you were losing control.

As his lips touched yours, deep and demanding, you finally gave in to the pleasure. His hands moved quickly over your body, and you allowed it to happen. You both understood the consequences. The lies. The secret. save there was nothing save the sensation of his body on yours, the heat rising between you.

Wish it wasn’t you but you’re the one I want

Rafe and you both knew what's going on wasn't right—couldn't go to someone else for release. There were moments when you both thought what you were doing.

"This shouldn't be happening but you are the one I want and need, Y/N" Rafe murmured in your ear, leaving a path of kisses down your neck.

"Feelings are mutual," bending your head to allow him more access, clutching on his bicep incase you fall.

Our bodies do the talking say what words cannot

Your bodies move in synced together—the moment your bodies touch, everything unfolds. Actions speak louder than words. The feeling of skin against yours feels like no other. You feel at ease together.

There were so many thing you two wanted to say but your bodies did most of the talking during the times you were together.

You had a typical Saturday on the cut—with the television playing in the background while you cleaned your room. Spent most of your time at home. Your phone buzzed on your nightstand—Sarah was calling.

"Hey girl, what's up?" You respond, putting her on speaker, contining folding your clothes.

"Are you planning anything later? "The rest of us were thinking about a beach bonfire; are you up for it?" She inquires, noting that the sound on the other end of the phone sounded like she was walking around her room.

If you haven't seen your friends in a long and miss their presence, say, "I would love to, what time?" You reply pleasantly. 

"Six thirty!" "I'll pick you up?" She asks.

"Yes of course, I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, baby mama," she adds, hanging up the phone.

After you finished putting away your clothes, you had a shower and prepared for the bonfire with makeup and little gold hoops. You wore a cozy sweatshirt with jeans that you thrifted.

Sarah informed you that there will be people from both sides of the island tonight. Your stomach dropped instantly as those words came out of her mouth. Rafe texted you about the bonfire tonight, right after Sarah mentioned kooks and pouges attending.

When Sarah and you arrived at the beach, the rest of the pouge's were sipping beers beside a log, with JJ attempting to perform the worm in the sand. Sarah called out to your friends, "Look who I dragged out of the house!" She exclaimed, hands raised.

"Shut the fuck up!" Kiara shrieked and ran over to you, locking her arms around you, "I've missed you so much, Y/N."

"Aw, kie, I missed you too," you pouted and hugged her firmly.

"Where have you been?" Kie asks, pushing back and raising an eyebrow.

The others say "yeah" in unison.

"Just been busy with a bunch of stuff," you awkwardly beam. "Same old, same old."

The rest of the pouge give you a weird look, but accept it because there is more to life than sneaking off with Rafe.

You could feel eyes watching at you from across the fire, and they were following every movement you made. Looking over the enormous crowd, your gaze fell on Rafe, who was standing with a beer in his hand and slightly shaking his head as you spoke with JJ.

Turning your attention back to your friends while playfully glancing at him. One of the conditions you agreed to was acting as if you didn't like each other in public by making subtle comments. Thankfully, you two make this act appear quite convincing. If only they knew what happens behind closed doors.

Towards the end of the night you were feeling tipsy, still with the pouges having fun. You were telling a story about what your mom telling you the work drama—she always has interesting stories.

"Sarah do you know who was at your house two nights ago with Rafe?" Pope inquired of Sarah with curiosity.

Sarah turns to face everyone, "Oh god no, I don't think I want to even know," she huffs, "probably another girl he brought over," she gags at the thought of him. 

"They were fucking for nearly an hour, so I ended up putting on my headphones," she says, shaking her head.

You felt your stomach sink to your core. You were the girl in Rafe's room two nights ago. Rafe swore nobody would hear you two.

Your phone in your pocket started buzzing. Frowning as you reached into your sweatshirt pocket—Rafe.

Rafe Cameron: stop flirting with maybank, it hurts my eyes.

You: someone seems jealous... hang out with your friends

Rafe Cameron: not jealous, don't care for him and it's obvious he likes you.

You: mhm sure Rafe.

Rafe Cameron: what's with the attitude missy?

You: attitude? you are the one texting me.

Rafe Cameron: yeah cause i don't want you near him like that. meet me at my truck in ten minutes. tell my sister and your friends your mom is picking you up.

You: you got it.

With a frustrated groan, you run your hands through your hair. You'll admit it when you see Rafe all over another girl. So don't become very concerned about this.

The ten minutes go by quickly. You tell the pouges that your mother was waiting for you in the parking lot. They glanced at you suspiciously, but understood. Giving them all embraces and passing past everyone to see Rafe waiting for you in his truck.

It's a bad idea.

The following morning falls around.

After getting into Rafe's pickup, you two had a disagreement about JJ, which led you to mention the girls you'd seen him flirt with. You ended the disagreement by telling him to shut up. I drove back to your place and went up naked.

As your eyelids fluttered open, you felt the gravity of the situation sink in. You were tangled in the sheets with the one guy you knew you shouldn't be with—the one who could destroy everything. Nevertheless, you two did not want to leave. You two did not want to confront truth.

You two knew it would only endure as long as it remained a secret. But deep inside, you didn't mind.

Rafe moved his hand over your waist again, and you shuddered with the contact. "I told you it was a bad idea," you murmured quietly, partly expecting him to reject it.

Instead, he drew you closer, brushing his lips against your temple. "Maybe," he said softly, "but I can't stop thinking about you. "And that is also a bad idea."

It's a bad idea.

⎯⎯ my taglist!

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

@chenslucy @whorelaud @drewsephrry @runningfrom2am @diqldrunks @rosezza @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @kiiyomei @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @liliumz @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @yanna2coolz @stevesxwhore @minyoon23 @skywalker0809 @bxmaaa @anamiad00msday @ifwfratboychris

[hysteria-things]

HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK

♛ ONE ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)

idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!

the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.

currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.

“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”

you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.

matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.

“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”

he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.

“i love it.”

the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”

see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.

“nope.”

he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.

the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.

i want to see you after the show.

now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.

you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.

a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”

he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.

“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.

you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”

she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”

you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.

a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.

you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.

pinch me this can’t be real.

“hi,” he says lowly.

“hi,” you repeat back.

he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”

you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.

your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.

you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.

he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.

thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.

you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”

“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”

you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.

you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.

leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”

your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.

his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.

you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”

he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.

your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”

your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.

he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.

leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.

instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.

it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.

he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.

you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”

you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.

whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.

“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”

you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.

“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.

matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.

it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”

he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.

then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.

shit.

you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”

matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.

“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”

the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”

“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”

“are you okay?” she questions.

with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.

“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.

he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.

“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.

“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”

she sighs through the phone. “okay.”

you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.

he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”

spank.

“leaving your friend out there all alone.”

spank.

“so that you can fuck me.”

spank.

“like a slut.”

spank.

you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.

he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”

he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”

you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.

whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”

baby. you moan at the nickname.

you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’

you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.

all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.

your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.

“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.

he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.

“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.

your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.

he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”

blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”

“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.

“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.

tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.

matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.

you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.

he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.

he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.

after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.

matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.

you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.

once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”

“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.

she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”

“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”

she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.

to my favorite fan,

xxx-xxx-xxxx

text me when you get the chance, gorgeous

- matt :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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