19. lando norris' wife. written by taylor swift. dionysus' favorite child. she/her. brunette. johnny kavanagh. jason grace's sweetheart. coffee lover. george weasley's girl (real)
à synopsis : your favorite time of day , and your favorite person , symbolized by the sun ⊠in one way or another.
à content : fluff , smut , dry humping , unlabeled relationship , matt x fem!reader , mentions of marijuana and smoking , usage of petnames [baby] , proofread
à word count : 1.8k
à a/n : button divider made by me cause i couldnât find one with this aesthetic for shit. free to use, just tag me pls!
everything just feels so... warm.
the rays of afternoon sun pouring through your window, bathing both of you in it's ethereal light, the closeness of matt - his body pressed against yours, chest heaving with slow, heavy breaths, your movements creating a pleasurable kind of heat deep within your core, spreading and seeping between your guts.
warm like your senses heightened from the shared joint that now hangs lazily between his fingers, forgotten, save for the smoke that curls up into the air, defined and highlighted by the sunlight.
it's like the sun makes everything it touches into something magical.
the smoke in the air, your room - a perfect kind of messy, with all kinds of colors and lights and paints, books, clothes, sketches. the two of you, sat on your bed, carried away in some sort of warm, pleasurable moment. just two kids, lost in eachother.
it's not just the sun that makes him magical, though. it's not that simple. he's beautiful - he's always been beautiful. when you first met, when he started ditching his friends for you. sharing joints and stories, old or new on the weekends, making your way to the hall you know he'll be when the lunch bell rings, you had found a friend.
not someone fake, not someone who would walk with you for the hell of it and spare half-assed comments and pay half a mind to respond to you with an ounce of detail so you'd think they cared. not someone who stayed with you long enough to make you feel liked and then destroy it with whispers and unkind words the second they escape you.
matt didn't escape you. he didn't make you feel like you needed to be escaped. he spent time with you, he complimented you. and you wouldn't have told him if things hadn't changed - sometimes you still have trouble saying it - but those compliments meant something more. more than just... friendly.
you stayed quiet about it. you didn't want to risk your only friend, your sweet, kind, beautiful, funny, caring friend, for your stupid feelings.
but you didn't have to risk anything for things to change. slowly but surely, time after school and shared joints and friendly glances and platonic touches bloomed into something more. something warm.
it turned into tangled limbs, nights spent with a connection between souls deeper than words from your messy mouth and your jumbled brain could ever mean. and matt didn't mind. he was just... matt.
he's perfect. labels never came up, and you don't mind. you don't care if he's your friend, or your boyfriend, or anything inbetween. he's all you have, and in a way, you're all he has too. you're the only one who really, really gets him.
the way he looks, the way he feels, touches, just... is.
there's music playing through your cd player, you get me so high by the neighborhood, blending into the room as his hands are planted on your waist, guiding you over him. his lips are parted, pants and breathless moans leaving his mouth as he looks up at you with those eyes. you roll your hips once again, a soft whine forcing it's way out of your throat as the perfect friction sparks between you and his clothed cock.
he can't help the way he feels around you.
"fuck, that's good- just like that.." he forces out, his voice a quiet rasp. he can't seem to take his eyes off of you, darting between your own, and the way the sun hits your pretty face.
you nod, swallowing thickly before another moan leaves your throat as he bucks his hips up. "sorry- fuck, i'm sorry, you feel too good.." he moans, his grip on your waist tightening.
your eyes drop down to where your bodies connect, your lips curling upward at the tent in his jeans. "do i-fuck-do i turn you on that much?" your eyes flutter shut as he pulls you down a little harder, unable to stop the small laugh escaping your mouth.
"shit, you have no idea.." he murmurs, pressing his face to the side of your neck, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your skin. he moves your hips over his with every kiss, as you plant your hands on his shoulders - sliding down to his biceps.
you've always had a thing for his arms, and he's definitely noticed. your nails dig into them through the fabric of his shirt, eliciting a soft groan from him as he stays buried in your neck. the pleasure continues to shock through you, twisting your gut and building up into an intricate knot that represents everything you have. not lust, not meaningless touches, but that connection between souls that means so much to both of you.
"damn, what were we supposed to be doing again?" you ask, one of his hands sliding down to your hips, kneading and massaging the skin while the other moves up to your hair, pulling your head to the side and revealing more of your neck for his desperate mouth to claim.
he hums, nipping the base of your neck before mumbling a response. "chemistry revision." and he goes right back to kissing, like the response is inconveniencing him. which it kinda is.
"anndddd... how did we end up here?" you smile, a particular roll of your hips over his eliciting a closed-mouth moan from you. he sighs, his hand tightening on your hip. "you insisted on the joint, if i'm not mistaken. then y'started lookin' too good."
his words, so simple, send something straight to that knot in your gut. everything feels so, so good. your eyes flutter shut once again, a shaky breath leaving your mouth. "mhhhm, i guess this counts as chemistry."
he pulls away from your neck as you begin to define your movements, grinding harder, longer. he looks up at you, brows furrowed in pleasure, cock twitching at the fucking sight of you. "you close?" he tilts his head, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as his hand in your hair drops down to the other side of your hip, helping your needy movements.
his eyes are hazy, red, thick with arousal, and fuck, he's sexy. you nod hastily, like the movement is too distracting from the tightening in your gut, a shaky whine leaving your lips. his head tips back, nose scrunching as his chest heaves against yours. "yeahhhh, shit, me too, baby. s'okay, i'll get y'there." he rasps, hips bucking up once more.
his hands move back up to your waist, wrapping around your body and pulling you closer as he begins grinding his hips up in time with yours. you've always loved how vocal he is, satisfied moans and groans leaving his throat. his eyes peel back open, before shutting immediately as if he'll cum at just the sight of you.
you laugh, breathless, and it's the best thing he's ever heard. he wants to record it, bottle it up and smoke it until he's high on you forever. his cock twitches under you, and you feel it this time. you'd make some lazy comment about it that really spurs you both on further while you pretend to be jokingly annoyed at the teasing, but you're too focused on feeling good.
your nails dig further into his arms, and oh, he likes that. it's like he can no longer control himself, the way his mouth drops open, and the noise that leaves him is filthy. "shit-fuuuuck-i need y'to cum." he moans, his eyes opening to look at you. in that moment, he literally has to hold himself back from soaking his boxers.
and you notice, you notice everything. that desperation from him spurs you on, his face and his voice. it's not just a plea, it's a demand. he needs you to, for yourself and for his pleasure too. your face drops to his neck, crying out in pleasure as your hips stutter. his eyes roll back, arms tightening around your waist as he groans. "come on- please, baby, fuck, you can cum.."
you don't know how. he's been desperate, looking like that, begging you to cum for the past minute. you've never been easily dominated like that, not really, but there's a drawn out moan from your mouth to his shoulder, a stutter of your hips, the knot in your gut unraveling quicker than you can comprehend and turning into a smoky kind of unimaginable pleasure that crawls through your veins the second he gives you permission to.
he barely has a millisecond to form a single thought before his head is thrown back, breathless moans leaving his mouth, his own orgasm hitting him hard. spurts of warm, sticky cum leave his tip, twitching, soaking through his boxers and soon through the thick denim of his baggy jeans, leaving a wet patch through the fabric. he feels just as good as you, possibly better, probably not.
steadily, you come down from the high, collapsing onto his warm, breathless body. his hand travels up to your hair, slowly, like the route is familiar, like you've done this a hundred times before, because you have, while the other stays wrapped around your waist, holding you close.
you wait until his breathing evens out, until his thumb starts rubbing small circles on the other side of your waist. you're still both high, messy, sprawled out over your disheveled sheets, digging and sifting through that beautiful connection you share that comes to light and shines like the sun.
"...i kinda want poptarts." you speak up after a beat, voice muffled by his neck. the movement of his thumb pauses before he laughs, a low rumble from his chest. "really? you just made me cum in my pants, n'you want poptarts?"
you smile into the skin of his neck, nose scrunched in a way he's always found adorable, a breathy laugh coming out through your nose. "yeah... what's wrong with that?"
"nothing, nothing... just- nothing." he laughs. it's a sound you can never get enough of, because it's so him. sweet, genuine, lights up an entire room.
because it's true, he does. he cares about you more than you could comprehend, and vice versa.
the sun is still shining on the both of you, bright and warm, bathing you in it's familiarity. a clear symbol of your connection. you've always loved the sun, the sky, the clouds, the stars, space in general. matt says it suits you. it's something he loves about you.
you've always viewed the sun as a sort of comforting figure. like a standard, in some odd way. and then matt traipsed into your life with his smile and his laugh and his hands, his gentleness, his care, his love. and then things became clear.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale
Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo
Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chrisâs clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?
Warnings: angst, tension
I stand there, frozen, not knowing how to feel. Iâm confused.. upset.. Angry? Was this planned? Am I the idiot here, or is Christina just being a complete weirdo?
Judging by the looks on the boysâ faces on stage, itâs definitely the latter. Nickâs eyes widen, and Chris immediately turns to Matt, his expression somewhere between confused and concerned. The whole crowd starts buzzing, some gasping, others laughing, waiting for Mattâs reaction.
But how Matt responds to this? That tells me everything I need to know.
He shifts his weight, glancing at the screen where Christinaâs face is still on display. For a moment, he doesnât say anything, just looking at her with an unreadable expression. Then, he lets out a dry laugh and leans into his mic.
"Wow. Uh.. bold move. Really bold move."
Chris covers his mic, turning slightly away to hide his laughter, while Nick just mutters, "Ainât no way" under his breath. The crowd? Losing their minds, some gasping, others laughing, a few already chanting âNooo wayâ.
Matt tilts his head, as if considering his words carefully, but I can see the smirk creeping onto his face.
"Christina, I gotta give it to you, you are persistent. Really committed to the bit, huh?" He pauses for dramatic effect, the crowd eating up every second. Then, he shrugs. "But listen.. I think we both know this isnât some sort of rom com. No dramatic third act reunion, no âIâve changedâ moment. That ship? Yeah, itâs not just sailed, it sank. And I, for one, am not tryna go deep sea diving."
Chris fully doubles over laughing at that, and Nick lets out a low whistle. The audience erupts, a mix of cheers, gasps, and âOhhh shitâ reactions.
Matt leans back from the mic, shaking his head with a smirk. "Appreciate the confession, though. Real brave of you. But me? Iâm real good where Iâm at."
He doesnât say my name, doesnât need to. His eyes flicker toward where Iâm standing in the wings, just for a second. But itâs enough.
Christina forces a laugh, nodding like sheâs unbothered, but I see her face drop for a split second before the screen cuts away.
And just like that, I exhale.
Matt handled that perfectly.
He lets out a quick laugh, shaking his head as he steps back toward the mic.
"Well, damn.." he says, rubbing his jaw like heâs trying to process what just happened. "I thought I was the one with the surprises on this tour, but clearly, I got that wrong."
The audience erupts, some gasping, others laughing. Nick and Chris are both grinning like they canât believe what just happened.
Matt exhales, still smirking. "Uh, yeah.. that definitely caught me off guard. Not exactly what I had in mind for tonight, but hey, at least yâall are entertained." He tilts his head toward the crowd.
Thereâs a pause, and for a second, I wonder if heâs going to say anything serious. But then he shakes his head again and glances toward Nick and Chris.
"You know what? I was gonna drop my own surprise tonight, but I think Iâm gonna save that for somewhere a little less.." He gestures toward the big screen, where Christinaâs name has finally disappeared. "Chaotic."
The audience loses it, cheering, laughing, shouting out guesses about what his actual surprise could be.
Chris claps Matt on the shoulder, still grinning. "Yeah, I think thatâs a solid call, man."
Nick just shakes his head and mutters, "Only on this tour."
The boys wrap up the show section and transition into the meet and greet. As they come off the stage, Matt makes a beeline straight for me. His face is pale, his jaw clenched, he looks like heâs just seen a ghost. And honestly, I know exactly whatâs haunting him.
Before he even gets a word out, I sigh. "Matt, I know."
His brows knit together. "I swear I didnât know she was gonna do that. What the fuck is she even doing here? That was-"
"I know" I cut him off, reaching for his hand instinctively. "You handled it really well. You didnât entertain it, you didnât make it weird.. if anything, you made her look dumb."
Matt lets out a breath he mustâve been holding, nodding slightly. "I just-" He shakes his head. "I didnât want you thinking for a second that I had anything to do with that shit."
"I didnât." And thatâs the truth. As messy as things got before, I trust him now. Christina pulling something desperate like that only confirmed how little of a shot she really had.
His shoulders relax a bit, but I can tell heâs still frustrated. "You sure?"
I squeeze his hand. "Positive."
A flicker of relief crosses his face before Nick calls over from across the room, reminding him theyâve got a line of fans waiting.
"Go" I tell him, nodding toward the meet-and-greet area. "Weâll talk later."
Matt pulls me in for a quick but meaningful kiss before he heads off toward the meet and greet area. But just as heâs about to walk away, he suddenly stops, turning to one of the tour staff.
"Hey" he says, voice sharp. "Make sure Christinaâs barred from all future shows. I donât want her pulling this shit again."
The staff member nods immediately, and Matt doesnât even look back, just nods in satisfaction before finally heading off to greet the fans.
I let out a breath and shake my head. As much as tonight rattled him, he handled it exactly how he needed to.
I catch his eyes one last time before he disappears into the crowd. "Iâm gonna chill out on the bus for a bit while you guys do meet and greets" I call over to him.
"You good?" he asks, concern flickering across his face.
I nod. "Yeah. Just need a second to breathe."
He hesitates like he wants to say something else, but Nick pulls him along before he can.
I take that as my cue to slip out of the venue, heading toward the bus. A break sounds nice, but the truth is, I just need a moment to let everything sink in.
As I walk through the parking lot, just trying to get to the bus and clear my head, I hear someone call my name.
I freeze.
Is this bitch ever going to leave me alone?
I turn, and sure enough, standing by a car with her arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on her face, is Christina.
"Running off so soon?" she taunts, tilting her head. "Figured you'd want to stick around after that little show."
I exhale sharply, clenching my jaw as I stride toward her. "Are you actually out of your mind?" I snap. "Pulling that shit in front of thousands of people? What was that supposed to accomplish?"
She shrugs, feigning innocence. "I just told the truth. I still have feelings for Matt. And I think, deep down, he still has feelings for me too."
I let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah? Thats why he had security make sure you're banned from all future shows?"
Her smirk falters, but she recovers quickly. "Oh please. Thatâs just because youâre in his ear. We both know if I had more time, I could remind him of what we had."
My blood boils. "Christina, you lied about him sleeping with you. Youâve been manipulating situations from the start, and now youâre embarrassing yourself in front of thousands of people? Move on with your life."
She takes a step closer, lowering her voice. "You really think heâs done with me? Just like that?"
I donât hesitate. "I know he is."
Her nostrils flare, and for the first time, I see it, sheâs pissed. She was expecting me to crumble, to doubt, to let her words sink in and ruin what Matt and I have been rebuilding. But instead, Iâm standing my ground, unshaken.
I take a step back, done with this conversation. "Stay the fuck away from us, Christina" I say firmly. "Whatever fantasy you have in your head? Let it go. Because Matt already did."
As I turn to walk away, Christina scoffs loudly. "Yeah, keep walking. Thatâs all youâre good at, right? Running after Matt like a lost little puppy."
I stop dead in my tracks. Oh, she wants to play.
I spin back around, crossing my arms. "Youâre hilarious, Christina. Truly. Itâs so funny how youâre out here, standing in a parking lot, after humiliating yourself in front of thousands of people, still trying to convince yourself that Matt gives a single shit about you." I tilt my head mockingly. "While Iâm the one on the tour bus."
She narrows her eyes. "You think just because youâre with him now, it means you won?" She lets out a bitter laugh. "Iâve known Matt a lot longer than you have, sweetheart. He always comes back to me."
I snort, actually snort at the delusion. "Oh my God, you sound exhausted. You must be so tired from running all these mental gymnastics. Matt doesnât have anything to go back to, especially not some desperate, lying, washed up one night stand who has to publicly confess her âfeelingsâ just to get his attention."
Her face twists in anger. "I am not desperate."
I let out a dramatic gasp. "Oh? So it was just, what, a casual public confession? Just for a laugh? Just throwing shit out there, hoping it sticks?" I take a step closer, lowering my voice mockingly. "Face it, Christina. You played yourself. You thought you could stir up drama, and instead, Matt shut you down and made sure youâd never pull this shit again." I smirk. "Youâre not competition. Youâre not even relevant."
Her mouth opens, then shuts, her hands clenching into fists. I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears, and itâs hilarious.
And with that, I stride toward the bus, feeling lighter than ever.
I shut the door behind me, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I lay back on the bus, pulling my phone out and mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, needing something to distract myself. But, of course, the algorithm is already on it. My entire feed is flooded with clips from the show, Christinaâs confession, Mattâs reaction, and everyoneâs very vocal opinions on it.
I tap on a video with the caption âNAH THIS WAS WILDâ and watch as the camera captures the exact moment Christinaâs name popped up on the screen. The crowd collectively gasping, people whispering, a loud âoh hell noâ from someone in the back. Then thereâs Matt, standing there stunned before recovering with his usual sarcasm.
I swipe to the next one. A fan recording from their seat âMattâs face is FRYING ME, bro did not expect that at all.â The camera zooms in on him blinking rapidly before laughing it off, shaking his head.
Another video: âPOV you just witnessed the most desperate confession in real timeâ with a slo mo clip of the moment Christinaâs face popped up on the big screen, followed by someone yelling "Girl, be so for real."
I actually let out a laugh at that one.
Then I come across a reaction video. A girl sitting in her bedroom, mouth open in shock. "No, because Christina actually thought she ate with that confession. The way Matt shut that down and then looked off to the side.. Anyone else think he might have a girlfriend??"
I shake my head, almost laughing, I wouldnât call myself his girlfriend. Not yet anyway. I continue scrolling past more and more takes, all dragging Christina to hell and back. The internet is not on her side.
I smirk to myself, locking my phone and tossing it beside me. Looks like the world knows what I already did, Christina just played herself, and thereâs no coming back from that.
I get a buzz beside me and I glance down at my phone, seeing Mattâs message light up the screen:
"Can you come to my dressing room? Chris needs help with something."
I stretch, letting out a small sigh before pushing myself up from the couch. Chris needing help? Shocker. I slide my phone into my pocket and step off the bus, making my way back inside the venue.
As I turn the corner, I spot Matt standing outside his dressing room door, shifting slightly on his feet like heâs waiting for me.
I narrow my eyes. âYou good?â
He nods quickly, a small smirk pulling at his lips. âYeah. Just.. got one more surprise in me today.â
I raise an eyebrow, but before I can ask, he grips the handle and pushes open the door.
My breath catches.
The entire dressing room is decorated, soft fairy lights strung up along the walls, scattered rose petals on the floor, and in the center, the words âMay I Be Your Boyfriend?â spelled out in red balloons.
I freeze, my brain needing a moment to catch up. âMatt.. what-?â
He rubs the back of his neck, looking suddenly nervous.Â
I turn to him, still stunned, my heart pounding. âYou-â I swallow. âYou did all this?â
âWell, Chris and Nick helped a littleâ he admits, glancing at the setup. âBut yeah.â His voice softens. âI wanted to.â
I look around again, taking it all in, warmth spreading through my chest. After everything, after the chaos, the drama, the absolute mess of the night, he still made time for this.
I turn back to him, eyes meeting his. âYes.â
His lips part. âYeah?â
A grin tugs at my lips. âYes, Iâd love you to be my boyfriend.â
Before he can say anything else, I grab the collar of his hoodie and pull him into a deep kiss, feeling him smile against my lips as his arms wrap around my waist.
Matt pulls back just enough to look at me, his forehead resting against mine, a lazy grin playing on his lips. His hands stay firm on my waist, like heâs making sure I donât go anywhere, not that I would.
âIâm glad you finally found the place you belong in my lifeâ I murmur, my voice just above a whisper.
His expression shifts, something softer settling in his eyes, like heâs soaking in every word. His fingers tighten slightly against my waist. âMe too.â
I nod, a small smile playing on my lips.Â
Matt exhales a little laugh, shaking his head. âTook me long enough, huh?â
I chuckle, nudging my nose against his. âBetter late than never.â
He grins, then leans in again, capturing my lips in another kiss, slower this time, more deliberate. Like heâs savoring it. Like heâs making up for every moment before this one when we werenât in this position together.
And in that moment, I know weâre exactly where weâre meant to be.
a/n : and thats all from me on the fic front for now!! (explanation here) i will miss writing but hopefully ill be back sooner than later! ive now 3 30+ part series done in 7 months and i cant thank you all for the love and support on them all, even the silent readers!! I cant believe the F&D era is over already but thank you all for sticking around and reading the last 12 weeks! im not leaving the app ill still be here so my inbox and messages are always open!! i love to give advice or just yap so you know where to catch me!! If you would like to be on the taglist for future fics when im back writing interact here!
â zombie!chris lending you a hand, literally . FLUFF
The scent of pine needles and cinnamon candles travel through the living room, the spirit of the winter atmosphere flowing outside the windows. Snow was predicted to start falling next week or possibly sooner.
That's why you're here, needles stabbing through fabric while you struggle with a stubborn knot of forest green yarn.
He's a surprisingly cuddly zombie, apart from his appearance seeming to scare some of the other people weâve met. Less of a monster and more of a slightly decaying teddy bear.
The scarf you're knitting is for him is a thick, woolly and fluffy barrier for the winter bite outside to not literally bite him in the ass from the kind of clothes he usually wears on a daily basis.
You tug at the yarn, frustration bubbling up inside of you but your exterior remaining calm. Three needles, a ball of wool the size of a small dog alongside the complex idea of the cable stitch you are attempting to execute proving to be not such an easy task after all, you sigh and keep your composure but the calm shell is starting to softly break.
Chris notices the sudden shift in your mood. He sits up straighter in his seat while he continues to watch you struggle with the yarn, his better eye filled with a familiar tenderness.
He doesn't understand the basics of knitting, not much about it but he understands the frustration in your eyes. You grunt, trying to untangle a particularly stubborn loop.
He watches you struggle a little on your own with the few hands you had and decided to help you out a little too literally as he proceeds to grab his wrist and detach his hand from his arm and raised the hand towards you âNeed a hand?â
You look up, a bewildered expression on your face. Heâs holding his⊠his hand out to you. More specifically, he's detached it from his arm, the severed limb surprisingly clean, a show of the work he has been putting into himself to not completely rot and decay away so like he says ânever rot completely away for youâ .
For a moment, you're speechless before soft laughter erupts from your throat as it spreads and fills the living room, bouncing off the cozy walls of the room
"You're absolutely ridiculous!" you manage to gasp between bubbles of laughter. "Weâre going to have to sew that back on as well.â
Chrisâs lips curve into a faint smile at your infectious bubbles of laughter. He chuckles himself at the successful reaction to his joke, the sound rumbling inside of his throat.
You wipe a little tear from your eye. "Okay, okay," you say, taking a deep breath. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage with the two I have. You might need that one more than I do."
He carefully reattaches his hand, a process that involves a disconcerting click and a slight wince. âJust wanted to help, sweetheart,â he murmurs, settling back against the cushions.
You pick up your needles again, the laughter still bubbling beneath the surface. The knot suddenly seems less intimidating. The click of the needles continue in a steady rhythm in the quiet building. The scarf is still unfinished, the winter weather still looming outside of the window but in this moment, surrounded by the scent of cozy blankets as well as sweetly scented candle, you feel content. You have Chris, a slightly decaying, genuinely funny, and helpful boyfriend and that you realize is all that truly mattered to you.
â quick note. : welp, my mental health is kinda declining lol. thanks to @/sturns-mermaid for the idea .
can the triplets just like⊠post an hour long vid once a month or smth?đđ honestly, iâd prefer for them to just cut the bullshit and film a nice quality video once a month, how hard is that. the zoo video?? the wisdom teeth vid? how amazing werenât they, i seriously enjoyed them. iâll wait a month!!
those 20 minute car videos are cozy and cool for the ogness, but when they canât stay on topic for more than 1 minute⊠i wanna click off so bad. please just get #rid of the zstar managing. they said themselves they hardly leave their house, they edit videos the day before posting⊠please wake up guys, i love you but this is your joooobbbb
and no, i donât think theyâre gonna quit lol. this is their only income, and what would they do instead? no shade, but they donât have a degree since they didnât go to college, and i donât know how far youtube can get youâand theyâre making the baaagggg on youtube + streaming + merch. i donât think they could really get that sort of income anywhere else with their experience.
âŻâŻâŻâŻ NOW YOU'RE WATCHING ... uber driver!matt fucks you after a shitty date.
your date was a bust; some guy named andrew who spent two hours at a shitty diner droning about his gym routine, barely looking up from his phone, leaving you bored and dry as hell. youâre more than done with this, heels clicking on the curb as you book an uber, the night air cool against your skin, your little black dress hugging your curves, wasted on a dud.
a black, beat-up sedan with cracked windows rolls up and matt (or at least that's the name on your phone) slides into view, leaning an elbow out, smirking like heâs already got you figured out. heâs all messy brown hair, sharp jaw, plaid shirt unbuttoned over a white tee, eyes raking you up and down with zero shame.
ârough night, huh? yâlook like you just escaped a fuckinâ coma,â he says, voice low and lazy, dripping with a cocky grin as you climb in the back, slamming the door harder than you mean to. âaddressâs setâwhere we goinâ, princess?â
âhome,â you mutter, crossing your arms, staring out the window, but heâs not letting it drop, glancing at you in the rearview, one brow cocked.
âhome? nah, youâre dressed like that for some loser who couldnât even make you sweat? tell me âbout this clown, câmon, spill it.â
you roll your eyes, but heâs got this pushy, crude way, like heâs daring you to bite back. âandrew. gym rat. talked about protein shakes so much i wanted to claw my ears off. didnât even kiss meâjust a handshake. a fuckinâ handshake.â
matt laughsâloud, sharp, head tipping back. âa handshake? shit, what a pussy. you wasted that dress on a dude who canât even get you wet, thatâs tragic, babe, yâcouldâa stayed home and fucked yourself better.â his eyes flick to you again, dark and glinting, tongue swiping his lip like heâs tasting the idea. âbet he wouldnât know what to do with you anywayâlook at ya, all pent up, sittinâ there like yâneed a real man to fix that.â
heat creeps up your neck, a mix of annoyance and something else. his words are crass, intrusive, but they hit, stirring the frustration andrew left simmering. âand what, you think youâre that guy?â you snap, leaning forward, elbows on the seatback, meeting his gaze in the mirror. âbig talk for some uber driver.â
he smirks wider, cynical and hot, shifting gears with a lazy flick of his wrist. âoh, iâm more than that, sweetheart. iâd have you screaminâ in ten minutesâhands are quick, tongueâs quicker. yâwanna test me? or yâtoo scared to find out andrewâs not the only one who canât deliver?â
itâs a taunt, bold and filthy, and he chuckles when you donât flinch, just stare back, pulse kicking up.
âprove it, then,â you say, voice steady, daring him now, the car humming under you as the tension snaps. âpull overâsomewhere dark. letâs see if your hands match that mouth, or if youâre just another bullshit artist.â
mattâs grin turns feral, eyes flashing as he mutters, âfuckinâ bet,â and swerves the wheel, tires crunching gravel as he peels off the main road, weaving into a shadowed alley, streetlights fading to black. he kills the engine, twists around, one arm slung over the seat, staring at you like youâre prey. âbackseat now. letâs see how bad you need this.â
you climb over, dress hiking up your thighs, and heâs on you fast, the door slamming shut as he shoves you down across the seat, one hand yanking your straps down, baring your tits to the cool air. âshit, look at these, he didnât deserve âem,â he growls, mouth crashing onto one, teeth grazing your nipple, making you gasp, arching up against him.
his other handâs already between your legs, shoving your panties aside, fingers plunging inâtwo, rough, curling deep, pumping fast until youâre soaked, the wet squelch loud in the tight space.
âfuck, youâre so wet already,â he laughs, voice dark and mocking, âthis what you wanted all night, huh? not some dickhead too busy flexinâ to fuck you right?â
you moan, loud and needy, grabbing his hair, pulling him up, his lips hovering over yours, breath hot and ragged. âshut up and use that tongue,â your panting making him grin as he dove down, flattening it against your cuntâbroad, sloppy licks, sucking your clit hard, your thighs shaking, trapping his head.
âohhh shit!â you cry, hips bucking, and he groans, âfuck yeah, scream fâme, let me gove you what that loser couldnât,â voice muffled as he eats you out, relentless, tongue flicking fast, then slow, dragging you to the edge, your nails clawing at the seat desperately.
he pulls back, smirking, wiping his chin, âtold yaâhands next,â and flips you over, face down, ass up, yanking your hips back, spreading your legs wider.
heâs behind you nowâjeans shoved down, cock out, thick and drippingârubbing it against your slit, teasing, making you whine, âcâmon, fuck me already.â
âneedy little thing,â he mutters, all smug and hot, then thrusts inâhard, deep, bottoming out until you yelp, walls clenching tight. âfuck, yâfeel so good,â he groans, setting a brutal pace that felt fast, sloppy, the car rocking with every slam, windows fogging as you moan, loud and wrecked.
his hands grip your ass, spreading you, one thumb circling your rim, teasing, not pushing, âyâlike that? dirty girl, bet andrew never even tried,â and you laugh, breathless, âhe wouldnât dare... keep goinâ.â
he doesâfucking you savage, one hand sliding up, pinching your nipple âtil you hiss, the other rubbing your clit, sloppy and fast, âtil youâre screaming, âmatt, fuck, mâgonna cum!â and you do, soaking his hand, his cock, the seat, looking like a shaking, sobbing mess.
heâs not far, groaning against your ear âyouâre so tight, babe. mâcumminâ,â and pulls out, jerking fast, painting your ass with hot, thick spurts, panting,
âyouâre better than any date.â you slump, breathless, dress torn, thighs slick, and he lets a low, cynical laugh.
âtold ya my hands donât lie. your tinder guys got nothinâ on this.â
you're down on your knees in front of chrisâwho's sat at the edge of your bed, watching you take his thick cock into your mouth and bobbing your head up and down, batting your lashes up at him all pretty as he grips at the sheets.
but something seems off in his expression. sure, he looks pleasured, but his brows aren't furrowed in just pleasure, but confusion, and you know exactly why.
it makes you smirk around his dick, jerking whatever doesn't fit between your lip plumper glossed lips, and his hands move to your head, letting out a shaky grunt.
he's trying to bask in the pleasureâhe really isâbut his fucking cock keeps tingling, and it's making him feel too confused to focus on how good your mouth is feeling.
"baby," he mumbles, his face washing over with confusion and concern, gently tugging your mouth off his cock by your hair. "hold up."
you fake a confused look up at him, furrowing your brows, wiping at the drool at the corners of your mouth, "what's wrong?" you ask, voice dripping with innocence.
chris studies your face, prodding the inside of his cheek with his tongue. he notices the way your lips look more plump and red than usual. his thumb swipes slow over your bottom lip, dragging at the gloss. "what the fuck you got on your mouth?"
you let out a cheeky giggle, pursing your glossy lips up at him, "lip plumper," you chirp, like it's nothing.
he stares. then licks his own lips. then squints down at your lips. "lip what?"
you bite back a grin. "plumper. makes them look fuller."
his head tilts, still confused, still staring like heâs trying to figure something out. then, he realizes why his dick is tingling, his eyes flitting down to his length and then back to your mouth.
"hold the fuck up." he leans back on his palms, rubbing his lips together. his whole face twists. "what the fuckâ"
you blink up at him, innocent. "what?"
chris furrows his brows down at his dick, tilting his head at it, "s'that why my fuckin' dick is burnin'?"
you giggle up at him. âit tingles, huh?â
his eyes flick down to you, then back to his member, like he's still trying to process the sensation. "nah, what the fuck kinda witchcraftâ"
"itâs just the gloss," you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "feels kinda nice, right?"
chris doesnât answer right away. just keeps looking at his still hard dick, looking confused as hell, like his brain is short-circuiting.
and then a little smirk spreads on his lips as he looks at you, still confused, but there's a slight glint in his eyes now. "i meanâŠs'kinda fire."
you raise your brows up at him, smirking back at him as you slide a hand up his thigh, "yeah?" you ask, reaching into your sweatpants pocket to pull out the lip plumping gloss.
"nah, nah, lemme do it," he says, snatching it from your hand like you canât be trusted to apply it yourself.
you sigh, but you pucker up anyway, lips barely pursed before he swipes the gloss on way too aggressively.
"chris," you whine, trying to pull back. "that's so much."
"nah, we need extra," he mutters, going back in, his free hand grabbing your chin gently. "i'mma make sure i cum from this shit. all over your pretty face, let's go."
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