salted caramel frappes ▪︎ sturniolo triplets ▪︎ cold evenings ▪︎ all things blue ▪︎ courtreezy ▪︎ "why d'you only call me when you're high?" ▪︎nirvana ▪︎ deb smikle ▪︎ blink-182 ▪︎ goatee chris ▪︎ arctic monkeys ▪︎ fruit ▪︎ " it started with a whisper " ▪︎ the kooks ▪︎ tara ▪︎ larray ▪︎ freaks ▪︎virgin▪︎ animals ▪︎ fw yappers
ⓘ nsfw content. clit stimulation. dacryphilia. p in v. tiny drabble (!!)
“c’mon, dove, you got it; gimme one more.” chris purred, guiding his tip through your cum covered, puffy folds teasingly. your hips buck in response, a weak whimper escaping your pouty lips while you attempt to recover from the last orgasm he’d coaxed out of you.
his thumb finds your clit, circling painfully slowly just to watch your teary reaction. he lined himself up with your entrance again, pushing just the tip in before halting as your hand reaches down—purely for something to hold onto. “what? ‘s something wrong, sweetheart?” he mocked, frowning innocently.
“no! jus’ don’t stop.” a smirk forms on chris’ face at your whiny tone, his gaze glued to the teary, sensitive figure in front of him.
hot fingers curl around his forearm when you feel him begin to push inside you again, that same bubbly, warm, pulsing sensation building in your body again. a breathy groan leaves chris’ lips as your pussy clenches around him, sucking him in further.
his touch feels like dainty electric feathers, fingers carefully caressing your cheek, the hairs at the back of your neck prickling. your legs close tightly against his hips, chasing the hopes of chris ditching his ego and giving in to the both of you.
he leans in close to your face, pressing gentle kisses to all the tears burning down your cheek, whispering soft praises or you while doing so.
a/n— i nearly forgot my monthly write oops. this was written at 2am so please bear with the possibility this makes no sense & needs to be majorly improved.
you’re no more special than anyone, you’re a piece of fucking shit.
the misogynistic racist pig you’re supporting has raped, auctioned off, manipulated, abused, mentally physically and emotionally traumatised many many women and CHILDREN.
he‘s strongly against abortion (aka female’s rights) but raped a 13 year old, leading to that 13 year old to be impregnated, and then threw the powerless baby in a river to drown.
no man or woman who’s in the epstein files (unless they’re the victims) is innocent or going to have any fucking impact on ‘making america great again’. if you want america to be even bearable, bring back fucking obama! donald trump’s been president for a little over a year and has done so much permanent damage to innocent people’s lives.
the only other way anyone’s ever making america great again is by assassinating donald trump & everyone who isn’t a victim in the epstein files, and getting you the fuck out of america.
donald trump would probably defend adolf hitler if it was brought up, because he’s on the same path.
americans stole the land you ‘cherish’ (yet you can’t even respect it). coloured children are forced to be in factories working to make your clothes. women & poc’s opinions bring peace and equality yet you want to silence them.
if donald trump was any kind of a decent man, he would have nothing to hide. but no, he’s covering all information regarding his mistreatment and abuse of people in the epstein files up. he’s had his name and files redacted, and if that doesn’t say something than you’re fucking insane.
where’s kamala’s name in the epstein files? where’s obama’s?
ICE is traumatising, inhumane and brutal. they’ve unlawfully slaughtered innocent people trying to stand up for other innocent people, yet donald trump is sticking up for it and creating lies to cover up for ICE’s brutality. just because someone’s skin is darker than yours doesn’t give anyone the right to destroy their lives, when in fact, they’re probably working harder that your lazy uneducated fucking self.
hop off anonymous, do reveal their identity, and fix your harmful, degrading, disgusting ‘opinions’.
⤷ dealer!chris pays too much attention to his joints, ignoring your crave for pleasure.
❦ dealer!chris && fem!reader
ⓘ nsfw content. kinda toxic chris ig, mean chris. idk i’m tired sweetheart ✦ short asf blurb
the joint briefly rests between his lips, silently mocking you for how desperate you were for chris’ attention when a majority of it was on the blunt.
his thrusts are careless; sloppy and teasingly unhurried. your back arches off the bed impatiently, an irritated whine leaves your pouty lips, to which chris simply blows smoke from the blunt into your face while muttering a slurred “be patient. you’ll get what you want soon”. the same sentence he’d drawled five minutes ago.
he seemed to enjoy it, like he took pleasure in seeing you so wound up over something he viewed as so pointless. after all, it wasn’t the first time he’d purposely lazily edged you just to see how you’d react.
albeit his gaze was hungry, lustful. like he could devour you on the spot if he’d just snap out of this careless haze he was in.
“chris!” you snap, growing frustrated at his lack of effort. you buck your hips, a demand for him to pay attention to you. “i’m sorry, ‘m i bein’ mean?” his lips curl into a pout, words laced with faux sympathy as his hand reaches down to press against your bundle of nerves. pathetic whimpers elicit from you when he circles your clit while his hips finally begin to put more effort in, chris’ thick shaft sliding almost all the way out of your slick until it’s just his tip inside, before slamming back into you.
your legs close around his hand instantly, earning a ‘tsk’ from chris. “so desperate f’me, but t’second i touch ya, you’re running from it, hm? c’mon, you’re a big girl; spread y’legs, baby.” his thumb moves from your clit, a sharp but fairly gentle slap meeting your thigh.
when you don’t comply due to you being unable to gather your thoughts properly and follow his demand, he sighs heavily—a dangerous glint flashing in his blue orbs.
“don’t make me put this blunt down jus’ to deal with you—this shit costs.” he warns sternly, a particularly harsh thrust punctuating his words while his free hand pushes your thighs apart.
a/n — i do not own dealer!chris nor am i creating any dealer au, im just trying to find a way to bring my motivation back. but erm, it’s midnight now so this is shite 😓😓i would say enjoy, but you’re more likely to suffer reading this. i hate where i used the word ‘due’ but i just love how it looks help
ⓘ sfw content. angst. fluff. highkey shite. comfort. introvert!reader. mentions of insecurity. manipulation (not from chris obv !). fake friend. crying. pet names. not proofread. nnn day five.
“chris?” you soft voice mumbled over the phone with a crack, all quiet and almost ashamed that you’d let yourself be so foolish. that you’d let yourself be guilt tripped into attending an event your ‘friend’ knew you’d hate.
chris had warned you not to go, that she’d be fine on her own. and you knew it, you knew she only asked you to come to the party so she’d look good by bringing multiple people, but when she put on that pleading, innocent, sad voice that acted worried about being all alone, you couldn’t leave her to go on her own.
surprise, even if you hadn’t gone, she wouldn’t be on her own.
you’re sat on the cold, unwelcoming sofa, trying to avert your gaze from the group of people opposite you—the one that your friend was in. she’d stuck with you at first, though it was clear she wasn’t fond of it. then she’d waddled off to her other group of friends.
and ever since she had, you could feel the judging glares from the girls as they snickered about something—about you. and you felt like an idiot. were they laughing at your clothes? how you sat? how you spoke?..or your looks? you couldn’t get the negative thoughts out of your head.
“wan’ me to come pick you up?” chris could hear the pain in your voice. he could practically picture you sat all straight, afraid of sitting strangely, fiddling with the hem of his comforting hoodie.
“mm-hm” your voice broke desperately, sniffing back as many emotions as possible, praying you wouldn’t let the girls see just how much they’re getting to you. “be there in fifteen, i’ll be as quick as i can, dove.”
and so you waited outside, eyeing all the cars on the road. and when you saw his car pull up, you darted over to it, tears threatening to well—though you knew you’d have chris’ comfort in merely a few seconds.
before chris could move to get out of the car, you’re already swinging the door open with the little strength you have and jumping inside, red eyes lined with a build up of stress, insecurity, and betrayal.
his heart stings at seeing his girl so hurt by something he could’ve prevented, as if it was his fault for people being cruel. “what happened, princess?” his arm reaches out to soothe you.
“don’t w’na talk about it right now.” you hiccuped, wiping your tears with the hem of the hoodie as you lean away from his touch—not coldly, just overwhelmed. “‘s okay, dove, y’don’t have to. let’s get you home, hm?” he cooed, moving his hand away to grip the steering wheel, before taking off to get home.
you’re snuggled into chris’ side, tears sliding down your cheeks like a machine—one after the other almost instantly. one of his arms holds your waist while his hand supports your back by pulling you in warmly, the other also resting on your waist but rubbing circles into your skin, just another layer of comfort—a reminder that you do matter.
“i jus’, i knew she didn’t genuinely care, i just couldn’t say no” you sob into his embrace, clinging onto his side, fingers curled into his shirt like you were afraid he’d melt away.
“‘s okay, sweetheart, i know, i know. they don’t deserve you.” his hand moves from your waist as his thumb swipes a few tears away, but instantly feels how you shift closer to him when he takes his arm away, like you needed all the comfort and protection you could get and him moving his arm shattered a layer of comfort—which you did.
so his arm curls around your body again, holding you closer. his jaw clenched, wondering how anyone could be so cruel to his sweet girl. “don’t worry about them, they’re stupid. if they can’t appreciate you for who you are, then that’s their loss. you’re perfect, baby.”
and you both stay like that for ages, for as long as you needed. though you grew hungry, and you were planning on ignoring it but chris could tell and he wouldn’t let you not eat simply because you’re feeling miserable. so he’d softly picked you up and guided you to the bedroom, pulling the sheets back and setting you down on the bed before wrapping them around you.
he’d gone downstairs to dish out some snacks, knowing you didn’t exactly want a fancy meal—so snacks were a much better choice. he came back up with different packets of crisps depending on your mood, a tub of your favourite ice cream with a spoon, ice cold water in a glass and some biscuits.
and now you rest nestled into his side while he strokes your hair and occasionally peppers you with kisses until you laugh. as well as your mood lifting ever so slightly, you finally give in and wolf down some of the food whilst meet the fockers plays on the tv. and you and chris both pray you don’t fall for your friend’s tricks again.
cigarette daydreams by cage the elephant. “dove”. frequent mood swings. cries over the littlest things. loves animals. sad music. overly sensitive. isolates herself from people because she thinks they find her irritating and dramatic. low confidence. overthinks. hugs. a glow stick who’s still breaking. questions everything. chris is her version of a therapist. family issues. doesn’t like labels. happy alone or with chris. rain. loves matching.
always paired with..shield!chris
—————————
a/n— since i’m not posting atm i’m gna post drafts of this au i was meant to post ages ago but cba to commit to another au
the adults are talking by the strokes. messed up childhood. silently struggles. ex dealer. finds it difficult to open up. protects those who he loves. heavy && disciplined workouts. reeks of sandalwood. would go to any lengths for dove. hard on himself. hooks up with girls as a distraction from reality. despises any man who displays even the slightest hint of misogyny. isolated from others. loves the reassurance from physical touch but cannot stand people laying a finger on him—other than dove clearly. loves foggy days.
you and chris compete to see who’s the best baker, but it turns into something else !
❦︎ chris && fem!reader
ⓘ fluff. lazy writing. nnn day four . slapping (once).
“so what are we making then?” chris questions, but he swiftly cuts you off before you can speak. “i vote pizza!!” his arm launches in the air faster than lightening, like there were other people around and he’d just come up with the invention of pizza.
you giggle at his desperation to make pizza. “chris, you don’t even know how to make dough,” you open the cupboard to see what ingredients there was. “and i’d still make it better than you.” he narrowed his eyes with a smug shrug, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist a challenge. "pizza it is."
"where's the flour?" you peer around, searching for the flour to make dough. chris quickly snatches it from beside his clear mixing bowl—that already had plenty of flour in, and began sprinkling miniscule amount of flour from his sticky, doughy, fingers. "chris! you've already used the flour!" your jaw drops in shock, almost amazed at the fact he had the guts to attempt to sabotage your cooking, even though you'd barely started and he's practically done with his dough.
"no! i'm missing..." he begins, trying to come up with a reasonable amount of flour to need. "..you're missing?" you raise your eyebrows, crossing your arms. "this!" he grins like a young careless child, pressing his index (flour covered) finger to the tip of your nose, leaving a flour fingerprint. “are you trying to bake my nose or something?” i roll my eyes, biting my lip to cover the faintest hint at the smile that was tugging at my mouth.
“no, it’s too pretty,” he replies, sounding as if he was seriously considering it for a second. you rapidly snatch the flour when he’s distracted — smirking evilly. “hey!” chris protests, jaw agape. “rude. at least sprinkle a bit more in my hand, i need to flour the counter before i roll.” reluctantly and aware chris might have some sort of plan, you sprinkle the littlest amount of flour in his hands, watching him intently. he sprinkles it on the counter, so your skeptic senses fade slowly, focusing back on your unfinished dough.
you don’t notice when the sprinkled flour vanishes from the counter, and not because it’s gone into his dough. but you do notice when you feel a slap against your ass.
"..you did not..chris!" you squeal, gasping as your jaw drops, instantly knowing what he’d done without even having to look. and he looks guilty, he isn’t trying to hide it. it’s like he’s proud.
you pile a handful of flour in your palm with a malicious grin.
and chris was already backing away, putting a sweet smile on to attempt to persuade you not to murder and smother him with flour.
┈➤ chris takes you && your daughter shopping, not realising how tiring it would be
❦︎ chris && fem!reader
ⓘ fluff. daughter is named ‘edith’. claire’s is a children’s shop, i don’t know if there’s a claire’s in the us or anything 😓. blurb. not proofread. nnn day two. lmk if more
chris is knackered to say the least. he’s been shopping with you before, and edith, but not the both of you together. it’s been almost two hours and your squeaky, bubbly, nearly four year old seems to require ‘pink hair clips with flowers’ in order to function properly.
approaching claire’s, little edith gazes up at the bright purple banner with the classic, clean, white ‘claire’s’ written on it in awe, like she’d never seen something to magnificent. you give chris a look of ‘oh god,’ with a subtle grin, to which he returns a stretched out, dread filled groan. it was adorable to see how fascinating your little girl was by the cleverly placed rotating jewellery racks were, perfectly designed to captivate a little child’s interest, but sometimes you wished you could just place a screen in front of the shop before she could notice it.
“mama, mama! look— there’s m’clips!!” she exclaimed with glee, skipping hurriedly up to the shop. “slow down, edie, no running in shops,” you chuckle softly, gently tapping her shoulder to get her attention. her delicate face drops, a bratty pout forming, eyebrows furrowed with her arms furiously crossed like you’d just told her she could go in but not get anything simply because you didn’t feel like it.
but as your eyebrows raise expectantly and chris speaks “edie, if mommy says no running, then no running.” She bursts into fake tears, sobbing dramatically while flopping onto the floor like a doll.
“no clips then,” you shrug, silently praying she’d halt her tantrum in the middle of the hall.
after a few protests, she finally stops sobbing—in a matter of seconds when she decides it’s just not working. so she resorts to her best puppy eyes, choosing to look up at you instead of chris, since she has higher chances of persuading you than chris. “please can i hav’ pink clips, mommy?”
“are you gonna be good?”
she nods eagerly when a smile grows on your face.
walking out of claire’s, you and chris approach a bench, chris tugging you over by the waist while you tug edith along whilst her tiny fingers wrap around yours. chris sits down, resting the multiple bags of clothing, jewellery, perfume, cologne, and more you all bought—and you did offer to pay for multiple items but swiftly shut that idea down the second chris warned you with a stern glance.
he finally sets himself down, despite how uncomfortable the old, worn out, wooden benches were. reaching out for your hand, he’s sets you down on his thigh, thumb rubbing against your hip when his fingers mould against your waist, his head dropping back and taking the weight off his neck as it rests against the wood.
“thank you, baby, i really appreciate you doing all this with and for us.” you press a soft kiss to his lips, despite his body being extremely tired, his mouth wasn’t—his lips crashing against yours like they were fire and yours were a fire blanket, tugging your lip between his teeth jokingly as he prods his tongue between your lips. kissing him once more, before he began getting too explicit for the public to see, you press a finger to his lips. expecting a mature response, you’re shocked when he juts his lip out, narrowing his eyes.
“not you too,” you groan before chris chuckles, then you’re interrupted by the words you dread hearing; “daddy, can i get one more thing before we go?” twirling her hair innocently. and of course he’d say yes, so off you all went again.
but then you eventually went home, everyone pleased with their shop and edith temporarily distracted so you and chris could relax.
a/n— that photo of chris is so dad!chris idk why,, anyway yes i was meant to post this a few days ago. but lowkey cute idea?
you’re comfortably resting on matt’s bed, duvet tucked into your side and under your feet, freshly showered and wearing your shorts paired with one of matt’s huge hoodies, cold sheets while your body’s warm, scrolling on tiktok, when you hear the front door slam unusually aggressively.
you frown, unwrapping yourself from the warm cover—something you’re not eager to do, and take a sip of water. matt doesn’t usually—no, ever, slam the door so violently? you approach the bedroom door, but before you can get too close, thankfully, matt flings the door open, not even sparing you a glance and simply heading straight for the bed. he must’ve stormed up there because no human could calmly walk up the stairs so swiftly.
his face is a shade warmer than usual, his eyes red and under eyes puffy, the tip of his nose also pinky. he settles down on the bed while you attempt to contemplate what could’ve happened; was it you? or was it someone else? he’s looking away from you, biting his nails anxiously. still not speaking a word.
“matt, what’s wrong? what happened?” you frown, concerned, as you walk toward the bed, settling down next to him. though you look much more comfortable, he’s stiff and the position he’s in doesn’t look at all nice, legs straight and in front of him, back hunched. “nothin’” he mutters under his breath, still avoiding your gaze—seems the same wooden floor that’s been there for years has suddenly become super interesting.
“i don’t want to force you to talk if you really don’t want to, but i’m here if you want to talk. do you want some water?” you chew on your lip, craving to help him as much as you could without pestering him.
he shook his head. shuffling closer to him, your arm moves to go behind his neck, knowing although he might not want to talk he definitely wants comfort. he tips his head forward, allowing your hand to go behind his head and support his neck more.
gently tugging him closer, he rests his head against your shoulder, and it’s like you could sense his discomfort vanish slightly, though his fury and pain remains.
“i-it’s jus’ that, i, like, i don’t, chr—, i” matt mutters, muffled sobs threatening to slip when he opens his mouth, struggling to find the words to express how he’s feeling. his voice grew scratchy—words cracking, raspy. his blue eyes shone with exhaustion, glossy. he repositions himself so he’s more supported by your body, rolling onto his side and tucking his knees to his chest while resting his head in your chest, pulling a blanket over the both of you.
“i’m tired—like so fucking tired, and, it’s just,” a few unknown beginnings of words come out of his mouth, but other than the first part of his strangled speech, nothing made sense. you lifted your other hand to comb through his brown locks, noticing the tears now streaming down his face and noting that his explanations weren’t going to get any better whilst he’s in the state. “shh..just rest,” you coo softly, continuing to soothe him to the best of your abilities.
and soon enough, he’d stopped hiccuping when attempting to speak, and his eyes had fluttered shut. you kept brushing your fingers through his hair, allowing to have a peaceful rest before seeing if he wanted to talk about it when he’d settled more.
❝. . . heaven is a place on earth with you ❞ ⇝ m.s
┈➤ matt shows you a tiktok he finds adorable, but you have to break bad news to him.
❦︎ matt && fem!reader
ⓘ fluff. admiration. nnn day one. drabble (!!)
“oh my god, oh my god, look!” matt gasped, shoving his phone in front of your face ridiculously rapidly, presenting a tiktok for you to watch.
you giggle, “this must be fucking good ‘cause i could sign you up for a magic show with how quickly you moved your phone”. you soon understood why he was so desperate to show you the tiktok when you saw the cutest baby penguin, it was fluffy and tiny, he looked like he’d fit in your hands. “aw! that’s so cute!! but matt, you know this is ai?”
“what?!” he launched upright, like you’d just broken his heart—by the look on his face you had. his eyes flicker from the tiktok to you, blinking cluelessly. “seriously?!” his tone has raised majorly, full of disbelief and disappointment. you gaze at his sweet expression, jaw agape, eyes widened—flashing a winter blue shade, brown hair fluffed up. “yeah, well matt, did you seriously think someone would just have a baby penguins in their lap on a fuzzy blanket?” you chuckle softly, acknowledging how realistic it did look—but utterly ridiculous the idea was.
“no, cause, like—no!” he continues, “anyway, screw kids, i want a baby penguin.” he huffs, flipping the phone to point in front of you again, so you could see the adorable little penguin again.
“if you can find one, and huge chunks of ice and snow that won’t freeze me to death, then sure, matt.” you laugh softly, admiring his gentle features full of disappointment.
a/n—sorry this is so short!! i didn’t really have ideas for this,, i’ve been focusing on the others !
four. that’s how many times he’s made you come in the last hour. the relentless movements from his tongue and fingers coax orgasms out of you continuously, like he was sirening them.
“matt! ‘s too much, i can’t take anymore,” you pant, chest rising rapidly. but his fingers don’t halt, they continue to pump in and out of your soaked entrance while your body betrays you, hips bucking against his hands. “yes you can, angel. c’mon, give me one more, you’re doing so well f’me.” he presses a kiss to your thigh, before beginning to nibble on your skin. overwhelming pulses of bliss glide through your blood, hands clenching the sheets for support, like they could make you come sooner.
you whimper, back arching off the bed when his thumb connects with your puffy clit, rubbing tight circles on the overstimulated nub. eyes glossy from the torment, you nod. “there’s my good girl,” his head dipped back between your thighs, fingers pulling out, leaving you clenching around nothing before his tongue quickly replaces the sensation.
his tongue dove straight to your folds while his hands hold your thighs apart, licking a long stripe from your hole to kitten licking your clit; to which you rut against his face—craving for him to apply more pressure. matt chuckles lowly, the vibrations sending jolts of ecstasy through your body when he begins to suck on your bud as he moaned into your pussy—drunk off the taste of you.
“o-oh, my..matt,” you mewled, followed by a string of lustful moans and whines. hand rushing to his hair like you had limited time to, tugging at the strands. but that only seemed to spur him on more, matt’s mouth moving to your pussy. his tongue teased your hole, dipping in before pulling back while his nose meanly pressed against your poor clit.
he rapidly shook his head from side to side, moving up and down your cunt whilst enjoying the encouraging reactions from you—louder moans as your back arches and hands grip his hair tighter.
and he didn’t seem to be any where near done with you, he appeared like he’d only just started. he was no where near done.
a/n — thank you for 200 !! welcome back vampire!matt😼😼,, yet again this was written at like 11pm so you’re gonna have to suffer reading this little prick because it’s so lazy i’m going to scream!☺️i love you bye
"chris?" you turn to face him on the bed, perched up on your elbows. a sneaky smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, although you attempt to disguise it.
"mhm?" you push the magical distraction device, aka his phone, out of his hands, watching a disgruntled 'hey' huff from his mouth with a frown. he sighs dryly.
"would your rather kiss me for a hundred quid or a thousand?"
"a thousand cents or a thousand bucks?" he questions suspiciously, assuming you had some kind of plan. "a thousand pounds."
"i'd kiss ya for a thousand, easy." he shrugs, like he’d completely forgotten you might have a twist to this game.
"so my kisses aren't worth only a hundred quid? y'd have to be paid a thousand quid?" you raise you eyebrows, feigning an offended tone. "no, that's—no, don't fuckin' twist my words, i'd kiss ya for whatever but i'd like a thousand." a slight tinge of defensiveness in his voiced, laced with worry for you to take it the wrong way.
"so first, you say my kisses are shit, then you accuse me of twisting your words, then you take a tone at me like it's my fault, and then you say you wouldn’t even share the money with me. wow, chris." you scoff, appearing serious, as if you were seriously offended by his assumed answer.
"what? no," he splutters, before grunting dramatically, reaching for your hip and rolling you closer to him before guiding you onto his lap.
his hand drifts to your jaw, latching his lips onto yours. "i'm not finished!" you protest. "i’ll make you finish in a minute," he chuckles at his own crude joke, pressing his lips against yours again to silence the unimpressed expression on your pretty face.
a/n- guys i genuinely don’t even know. i saw this trend online and wanted to write for it but i got bored halfway through sooo…i wanna write more drabbles though cause i’m lazy🐑
ⓘ fingering. degradation. clit stimulation. orgasm denial. aftercare. overstimulation. toxic matt tbf. spanking. little plot. oral (f receiving). sub!reader. dom!matt. unprotected sex (boys js wrap it up🫨). not proofread. pet names.
you and matt aren’t an item, you never would be. you’re just a repeated fling. so why’s he looking at you like you’re his?
you’re sat on the cream coloured couch, listening to the man beside you rant about his day—bear in mind he hasn’t asked how your day had been or anything remotely related to you yet. though you’re not paying attention to the boring words spluttering from his mouth, you’re focused on avoiding matt’s harsh gaze.
matt stands to the side of the room in a group with his friends, a few girls, and his brother, chris. he’d made it clear the other day that you and him were nothing. you’d seen a snapchat notification from a girl pop up on his phone, you didn’t say anything, but matt could tell just from the look in your eye you were curious. doubtful.
he’d gruffly shown you the text, voluntarily, and then proceeded to remind you on how you’re not dating, you’re not anything. you’re just “two people who…do things.” not friends, not acquaintances, nothing.
so it broke out into a minor argument, you protesting about how he didn’t need to be so harsh and careless about what he’d said, and him regretting what he’d said but being too immature to admit it, and choosing to call you dramatic and tell you not to make a big deal out of it.
red solo cup tossed into the bin, matt marched over to your spot. “get up.” he demanded, gripping onto your upper arm and forcing you off the couch before you had the chance to protest.
mouthing a ‘sorry’ to the guy, “you’re such a dick! what the hell was that for?” you spit, eyes lit with rage.
“don’t apologise to him.” matt’s eyes narrow as he turns his head to face the guy, not stopping his steps to his bedroom, “no she’s not.”
the poor man sits there, confused and innocent.
as much as you want to hate him, you can’t ignore the heat growing in your lower stomach, a hint of excitement fighting the fury in your eyes.
your arm pulls against his grip and you’re met with a daring glare. “step.” he urges, head nodding to the stairs you were about to trip over if you didn’t begin paying attention to where you’re placing your feet.
“get over there and strip.” he says flatly, like it was the most casual command a person could speak. “go on,” he urges, slapping your ass lightly but firmly at your hesitation, slamming the door behind him.
you dawdle over to the bed, pretending not to be eager to see what he’ll do. lifting your skimpy dress over your head, back facing matt, you drop it to the floor before beginning to undo your bra.
matt’s hands land on your waist, teasingly dipping beneath the material of your lace panties, guiding the fabric lower. “think it’s funny to flirt with other guys in front of me, hm?” he muttered into your neck, voice deep and thick with lust.
“bend over,” he whispered, his palm pressed against your lower back, following your movement when you plant your palms against the mattress, duvet clutched and crinkled in your hand—prepared to apply pressure.
his thumb rubs through your panty-clad folds, smirking at how visibly soaked you were. you squirm at the painfully slow speed of his fingers when they pull your panties aside and teasingly dip into your cunt, just the fingertips, before pulling them back out. repeating the same motion he’d done an agonising amount of times, sliding them through your slick, circling around your clit, dipping into your hole, but never entering fully.
“matt,” you whine, wiggling your hips back into his fingers, hoping he’ll push them in. but he doesn’t. his other palm gives your ass a sharp smack, while his fingertips are still prodding against your hole. “you never answered my question.”
another slap. “do you think it’s funny to flirt with other guys right in front of me?” his tone is demanding, fiery.
“no! i don’t.” you squeak, body jolting forward while you can practically feel your skin going red.
and suddenly, his fingers thrust into you. curling perfectly, before pulling back out and harshly slapping your puffy cunt, before swiftly gliding his fingers back inside you. your body jumps forward from the contact, only to have matt’s relentlessly grip roughly pull you back.
“then apologise.” his fingers lazily scissor you, not quick enough for you to get the pleasure you want.
“—‘m sorry! ‘m so so sorry,” you trip over your words, glossy eyes pleading for mercy.
“good girl, y’gettin’ close?” he questions, feeling you clench around him. his other hand rubs the area he’d just spanked, soothing it to the best of his abilities.
“mhm, wanna come,” your voice is shaky and soft, quiet.
“mm, yeah, no. not yet.” he hums, sounding like he was considering letting you come at first. his fingers pull out of you and pull your panties down, leaving you empty and needy. before you can protest, he’s already on his knees and spreading your legs further.
“i’m sorry, sweet girl, but i don’t think you deserve it yet.” his tone feigns sympathy, but you know he’s not at all sympathetic. he’s enjoying your disappointment and frustration.
his mouth attaches to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub. you gasp, fingers clutching into the bunched up duvet in your hand, back arching into him. he alternates between flicking, swirling and sucking as you begin to rock against his mouth. “stay still, bad girls don’t get to do what they want.”
you cry out a moan, the pleasure building up as his tongue slides through your folds. but you know he won’t let you come, not yet. all you can do is not move and simply wait for him to decide when you’ve earned it.
matt’s hand’s rub soothingly glides against your thigh, reassuring you that you’ll get what you want soon. but his tongue begins to pump in and out of your cunt, and you grind against his face again—but this time he lets you.
until you feel that knot building in your stomach again, then he stops you. “matt!” you protest, sniffling and overstimulated. “‘s okay, sweetie, i’ll let you cum soon.” he coos condescendingly, pulling back and standing to his feet.
a metal clink hits the floor, and you hear a moan elicit from matt’s lips, pumping his cock a few times before sliding it through your pussy, coating it in your slick. “are you gonna be a good girl from now on? no more flirting with guys?” you nod, not even bothering to protest about how you weren’t flirting—you were.
and with that, he finally pushes himself in, bottoming out after a few thrusts. “shit, dove, squeezin’ me so tight. y’close already?” well with the fact you’ve been dying to come for the last—however long, you had no clue, yes. you are already close. you’ve been already close since the agonising start of his game.
his thick shaft drags along your gummy walls, allowing you to feel every inch and vein on him as he repeatedly bruises your cervix. his hips slam brutally against yours, fingers holding somewhat gently into your hips—contrasting to his every other action.
“—‘m so close, matt,” you whimper. “please let me come, i’ll be such a good girl.” “yeah, i know you will. go on then, cum all over my cock, ma.” he murmurs, his own orgasm approaching, but he holds it, waiting until you’ve come. you come undone, a loud moan leaving your lips as you coat his dick in sticky juices.
he rapidly pulls out just before his own climax got there, thick white ropes of cum decorating your sweaty thighs. he attempts to blow the hair sticking to his forehead off, wafting a cool breeze over your face. “..shit.” you shakily say, taking your time to recover.
“you alright, dove?” he chuckles, his own breath shaky. “yeah..yeah.” you grin. he pulls his boxers and trousers back up, along with his top.
matt carefully spins you around and you’re not standing facing him. he guides you down to sit on the bed, gently pressing your back down so it’s against the bed, spreading your thighs open again. “matt—no, too sor—” you begin, “relax, ‘m just cleaning you up.” he kisses your forehead, heading to the bathroom.
he enters the room again with tissues, some drenched in warm water, others dry. he begins to clean your thighs, using a wet tissue followed by a dry one to absorb the leftover moisture, before pressing a kiss to your clit once you were all cleaned up. you gave him a sassy side eye, looking around for you clothes.
matt had convinced you to let him dress you, most likely because he wanted to distract you from the fact he’d tried to steal your underwear (it didn’t work in the slightest), and he put you in one of his long shirts.
“we should go back down,” you reluctantly murmur into his chest, wishing the party had ended so you could stay with him. your body pressed against his while he cuddles you into him, thumb rubbing against your hip while the movie 10 things i hate about you plays in front of you. “don’t worry about the party. it’s not important, jus’ stay here,” he replied softly.
a subtle smile grew on your face at not having to go back down to socialise and being able to just stay with matt.
“hold on,” he gently pulled you off him, setting you on the pillow. the bed was the perfect temperature, refreshingly cold at first, but warming up somewhat quickly. the pillows were fluffy and the kind that bounced back like a slow bouncy castle when you pressed your head against them. it was like heaven for a bed.
“huh, no! come back,” you complain childishly, a pout in your face as he disappears to the other side of the room, only to open a drawer and his mini fridge, eventually turning around with snacks in his hand and a smile. the mini fridge and drawer of snacks was a request you’d made months ago, saying how you needed food to stay alive and how he should basically just admit he hates you if he wouldn’t get you a snack drawer.
although he says it’s a waste of space, he loves having late night snacks with you. he drops the crisps and sweets on the bed, placing the fizzy drinks on the bedside table beige climbing back into bed with you, being met by the cheesiest, happiest, smug grin on your face.
𓂃✍︎ idk guys i have mixed feelings, i wrote this at midnight the fuck. good luck. new au for you ?! 😼😼fyi dove is her nickname !!
matt finds a better use for angel’s mouth, tired of her attitude.
❦︎ vampire!matt && angel!reader
ⓘ oral (m receiving). hair pulling. degradation (some). dom!matt. sub!reader. slapping. lmk if more. messy.
you knew you were pushing it. matt knows you’re independent and sassy, but he also has little patience. he’s usually very understanding and usually laughs off your sass, but it was getting too much.
you’d snapped multiple times today when matt was just being thoughtful or curious, simply from him either casually asking you what you’re doing, to asking if you want him to set the plates out for dinner—it irritated you because you hadn’t even started making breakfast, and you took it as he was trying to force you to cook.
you know he’d never do anything maliciously, but your temper’s been strange today, less controlled and you took even the smallest things offensively.
“do you want to order in tonight or should i cook?” matt turned his head to look at you as you both lay on the bed, stomachs up. you shrug carelessly, eyes glued to your phone. “angel, can you look at me for a second? your phone won’t disappear if you look away from it for a second.”
“i’m busy, matt! i don’t care, you decide.” you snap, standing up from the bed and storming over toward the bathroom. he copies your move, launching up from the bed. it looked like something inside him had snapped, well yeah, his patience had. his eyes glistened with frustration, jaw clenched.
“i’m fuckin’ talking to you, don’t walk away from me because you’re in a shitty mood and can’t answer a simple question.” he spoke calmly, controlled, but sternly. and you did, you stopped. because as much as matt was irritating you right now, you understood that he’s acting normal and you’re the one in a mood.
it’s not like you wanted to snap at him, you know he hasn’t done anything wrong, you just can’t help it. it’s like a reflex, it just happens before you can stop it.
he strolls over to you, standing in front of you. his icy blue eyes flash with fury, glaring down at you, receiving a cold stare. “—‘m getting pretty sick of this stupid mood you’re in, you’re not seven years old. stop sulking for no reason.”
you narrow your eyes challengingly. “i’m not sulking, you’re—” you retort, tone bratty and fierce.
“i suggest you don’t finish that sentence.” matt threats, his hand reaching up to grip your jaw tightly, forcing you to stumble closer to him. “seriously, what t’fuck are you runnin’ y’mouth for? don’t answer, you’ll just piss me off even more.”
a stubborn pout forms on your face. “such pretty lips,” he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, interrupting your pout by patting them. “wish they could control what they say.” matt tuts.
“think we can find another use for them, hm?” his eyes grow dark, lustful. your eyes not longer glare, they turn softer. needier. “get on your knees.” matt’s voice lowers, quiet but meaningful and powerful.
you sink to your knees, gazing up at him as he unzips his jeans, his long shaft springing out. “open.” he commands, guiding his tip to your lips.
your mouth gradually opens, and you don’t even notice, it’s like a reflex. until he’s pushing his length through your lips. your hand flies to his base, slowly stroking him as your tongue swirls around his tip. “fuck, angel,” he grunts, staring down at you like you were his prey. weak, vulnerable, powerless.
you take him deeper, getting halfway down his length before you decide it’s probably as much as you could take without gagging uncontrollably. drool piles at the corner of your mouth, watery eyes focused on his.
“thaaat’s it, sweet girl. takin’ me so well.” he coos in a husky tone. his hand gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, gripping extra tightly to remind you be good and not even considering teasing him. your cheeks hollow around him, earning a guttural moan from him.
you suck him in like a vice, clamping your mouth against him. he looks down at you in lustful awe, flames of pride and power gleaming in his eyes, like he’s never seen something so magical—let alone feeling it.
“y’so much quieter now, it’s nice.” he smirks smugly, giving your hair a light tug.
your eyes squint challengingly, mouth movements slowing, hand squeezing around his dick tighter to shut him up. your own smirk growing on your face—but in your eyes. “oh, fuck,” he grunts.
“keep going.”
he bucks his hips forward, shifting his dick further in your mouth. you whine around his thick member, struggling to take more but eager to please.
whimpers and groans escape his mouth as you bring him closer and closer to his high, the both of you awaiting the moment his tough ego snaps.
a/n - hi chat,, idk how i feel ab this cause i wrote it a while ago and i had to rush the ending like twenty minutes ago or wtv
