#cursed yappin
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Oh lord- Wilson broke in- I see the appeal of the gentleman Scientist... I blame Box- the way they draw Wilson is yummy-
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The urge to do an old lady voice right now is so tempting.
“It’s as I was watching The Promening, I thought to myself: ‘I wonder if people ship those three together, they should kiss already’.”
#no joke btw#I literally have been shipping them ever since I saw episode 3#about a year ago damn#nuvi#envuzi#nuziv#vuzin#n x uzi x v#violent biting biscuits#violent biscuit bites#rambles#just yappin#not excited about the inauguration#pray for the next 2-4 years#may the witches’ curses work in our favor#as you can tell I need to cope#my love for these three idiots will not be quenched#murder drones#murder drones fandom
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Thought about a what if scenario I might write.
What if Satoru did die against Toji and got bound to Suguru as a curse 👀👀👀
So years later, Suguru rules over a successful cult with Satoru by his side. Either a new member or a rebel sorcerer gets his attention.
Gotta put them in their place right?
#yandere jujutsu kaisen#cult leader Suguru#curse gojo#yandere jjk#jjk x reader#reader insert#rando thoughts#cw yandere#birdie yappin#yandere imagines#yandere x reader#def not original
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haha yikes wow i havent posted any art in a while. take these unfinished wips that i will not complete while i finish up moving
#oh wow i dont even want to maintag these bc they're just wips.... well i'll just throw in one for archiving purposes#milgram#anyway. if you dont know the first two characters (sorry idk how to draw anyone besides mikoto)#its inumaki and yuuta from jjk in custom uniforms i designed#genuinely super fun to design!!! never going to do that again.#MAN i have so much respect for ocgram(ers?) that shit is not easy#but i put a lot of thought into it. since yuutas like. special grade. danger guy gets many straps#inumaki uses curse speech... so more straps around the mouth#dont. look at my fuuta speak chart.#anyway last one is just a regular ver of the john from my last piece#+a mikoto verision#lxm fanart#done yappin. hopefully i can get an actual new piece out.... in august??#im going to be literally crying when i can pick up a drawing tablet again and realize i forgot how to draw at all#honest to god i think i forgot how to draw im serious
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I just saw fanart of grian being all stylish and in my head instead of saying “so cunty” I said “what a cunt”
Which took me back at first bc damn but then I decided that actually I stand by this statement (/j)
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took a writing break to explore the Mike Farrell tag on here only to have my kneecaps smashed in with the knowledge that he was the one mute old guy with the tv powers in that one episode of Supernatural [fred jones] [not scoobydoo fred jones thats a different episode]
i am going to begin to disolve
#the worst part was going 'clearly this is an edited screenshot and this person is lying'#and then googling it#and not only finding out they were telling the truth but ALSO that i REMEMBERED THAT EXACT EPISODE#what do i even do now. my old hyperfixation that i had buried in my backyard has been jolted awake momentarily by my new one#curse you mike farrell [not really]#[you are one of my favourite old people]#.yappin#mash
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raaah
#want. wide. hips. fat. butt. big. everything. curse. you. genetics. don’t get me wrong. i LOVE my body way more than i did 3 years ago lol.#i am proud of my self love journey. i just wish for more.#if i can’t look how i want in a few years. i’ll get small hip injections and butt lift#idk tho cuz it’s really not that serious loool#i’m just yappin. i just truly wanna feeeeelll like im hot shit yk? but i also wanna work for it.
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Sometimes when I'm playing Something Evil Will Happen, and I'm using my Wx-78 cosplay, people will throw water balloons at me and I'm just like "do they know? Do they recognize the fit?"
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uhm ok well welcome to my cursed pjsk names we have
ichicar
harucar
twocasa
some being that looks like doll for some reason
[mi]nori
and
banana haired boi #1
i gave up on the rest lol
and welcome to my md ones where we have
ourple gremlin
golden retriever
cat-like creatu- HEY STOP PRETENDING TO BE A CAT-
jcjenson's #1 fan
cylly being
shaded human
doorsexual dad
banana haired boi #2
lizzy mcglizzy
russian creep
and
seaweed
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i cant believe i already got sucked into a new game all because of another SHITTY MAN..............
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also: watching devil may cry... nice
#yappin.#can i be mean? ok cool#i don't like the way mary curses. it's so... LOL i can't explain#it's so weird coming from her it'd be better if she didn't#cursing has a certain swagger.... it's not in this character................. HAHA
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.
#lets play a fun little game of ‚is he just stressed and exhausted or is he distancing himself because he doesn’t think this could work‘#:‘))#and then lets play the game of ‚will i be able to a) be chill about it or b) talk it through in a mature way#or c) scream internally but not let him know it bothers me#because what if i dont like the answer#fucking stupid useless heart how i curse you for beating.#sometimes wish it would just stop.#ju yappin
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Can you write a Katsuki x female reader where you have an enemies with benefits relationship? Smut. Everyone thinks you loathe each other but reality is you fuck in secret, but you don't love each other, at least you're not supposed to. (Pls include hints of secret feelings)
Not Supposed To
The argument starts like all the others.
“God, you’re fucking insufferable.”
You toss your gloves down on the locker room bench and glare at Bakugou, whose smug sneer only sharpens. His eyes follow you like he’s daring you to say more.
He doesn’t have to wait long.
“You almost blew my leg off during the exercise, again.”
“Then maybe don’t stand where the action is, princess,” he growls, leaning against the locker with his arms crossed. “Not my fault your reaction time’s dogshit.”
You take a step toward him. “My timing’s fine. Your ego just can’t handle anyone else on the field.”
He laughs, low and sharp. “Tch. You wish you could keep up.”
The air between you snaps, heavy with something that isn’t just anger. It never is.
The door clicks shut behind the last student leaving. Silence drips like oil.
You don't move. Neither does he.
Then, Bakugou mutters, voice dark and low, “You gonna keep yappin’, or do you want your mouth full of something useful?”
You shove him.
He slams you back against the lockers in one fluid movement, big hands gripping your wrists, his knee slotting between your thighs.
“And there she is,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours. “Little miss perfect, acting like she doesn’t beg for it when the doors are closed.”
“Fuck you.”
“You do. Constantly.”
You hate the way your breath catches. The way your core throbs, already clenching from the memory of the last time he bent you over the shower bench and made you sob into the tile. You’re still sore. You always are.
“God, you’re such an arrogant—”
He kisses you before you finish, hot and bruising. Teeth clash. Hands fumble.
Clothes hit the floor.
He drags you into the supply closet, barely big enough to stand in. You don’t care. You’re already undoing his belt, and he’s tugging your shirt up over your head with greedy, calloused fingers.
“You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he rasps against your neck. “Like you want to tear me apart.”
You moan when he bites just below your jaw, a possessive mark for no one else to see.
“Because I do,” you whisper.
He growls, spinning you and shoving you against the wall. “Then say it.”
You glare over your shoulder. “Say what?”
“Say you need me.”
You almost spit out a curse. Instead, he yanks your hips back, one hand tangling in your hair, the other sliding between your thighs. His fingers slip through your slick folds, slow and taunting.
You gasp.
“That wet already?” His voice is a snarl. “Shit. And you say you hate me.”
“I do.”
“You’re such a fucking liar.”
He shoves into you without warning, one brutal thrust that knocks the breath from your lungs. You gasp again, nails scraping the wall, legs shaking.
“God, you feel—fuck—tight every time.”
His hand wraps around your throat—not squeezing, just holding. Possessive. Like he owns you. Like he always has.
“You want everyone to think you can’t stand me,” he pants, thrusting hard, fast. “But you take my cock like it’s the only thing keeping you sane.”
You bite your lip so hard it bleeds.
“Say it, baby,” he hisses. “Say you need it.”
“…Need you,” you whisper, broken.
“Louder.”
“Need you.”
“That’s my girl.”
You hate that phrase. You hate that it makes your stomach twist. That your heart stutters. That your chest aches with something hot and dangerous and forbidden.
Because this isn’t love.
It’s not.
You’re not supposed to want him like this. Not beyond the sex. Not beyond the anger and the heat and the raw, bruising want.
But he says things like that. In that voice. And your body forgets the rules.
He pulls out and flips you, lifts you onto a stack of gym mats with reckless strength, then thrusts back in deeper, angrier, more desperate. His mouth crashes into yours again—less cruel this time, like he needs to taste you.
“Fuck—Katsuki—”
Your voice cracks. His name breaks between your teeth.
You’ve never called him that during sex before.
His pace falters for half a second. Just one.
You both feel it.
His hands tighten on your waist. “Say it again.”
You try to look away.
“Say it.”
“Katsuki.”
He slams into you with a groan, face buried in your neck now. “Fucking hell. Don’t call me that unless you mean it.”
You do.
But you don’t say that. You can’t.
So you dig your fingers into his back, arching as the climax tears through you, hot and fast and blinding. You fall apart with his name on your lips.
He follows with a curse, grinding in deep, holding you close as if he can’t stand the thought of space between you.
Silence.
You both breathe like you’ve run ten miles. Your heart pounds loud enough to echo.
He doesn’t let go.
You don’t move.
You should.
You should say something sharp. Cold. Dismissive. That’s how it works. That’s the deal.
But his hands are still on you, too gentle now. His head rests on your shoulder, and you can feel how his fingers tremble just a little.
He whispers something against your skin.
You don’t catch it.
Maybe that’s for the best.
#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bnha x reader#mha x reader#x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#bnha#mha#mha fanfiction#my hero academia#boku no hero academia
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‘CRUSH’ — MATTHEW STURNIOLO
pairing. drummer!matthew sturniolo x reader genre. band au, smut, fluff
word count. 10.1k
❝let me take you backstage. just you and me, yeah?❞
content warnings. explicit content, alcohol usage, mentions of weed, unprotected sex, backstage sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, praising, creampie,
authors note. fake bands are mentioned in this. if there is a band with the same name out there, im sorry lol
Despite his love for blending in with the crowd and remaining mysterious and unseen, Matt is anything but unnoticeable. The singular stripe of red dye in his black hair, the black eyeliner that smudges at the corners of his eyes, the tattoos that decorate his arms, and the oversized graphic clothing that drowns his frame… he stands out.
Matt—admittedly—sticks out like a sore thumb.
It isn’t exactly his fault. (It is, but he won’t admit it).
Matt loves tattooing his skin with crazy and memorable designs, wearing clothes far larger than his usual size, and stomping around in heavy boots. Matt also loves filling his waterline with black eyeliner and accessorising with silver jewellery.
Painting his nails is another favourite of his too, though he usually goes for a chipped, all-black look.
It also doesn’t help that Matt is in a band alongside his brothers and childhood best friend. While the band isn’t huge, they perform almost every weekend at a popular bar in their hometown, attracting a crowd over 100 people that try their best to cram themselves in just to see them whenever they manage to book a gig.
So, maybe it is his fault.
But he never expected the level of attention it would bring him—eyes ogling from every direction, hushed whispers whenever he enters a room, and a constant stream of compliments filling his DMs on social media as well as being said directly to his face.
Matt secretly loves the attention, but he has never been the one to make a move when girls throw themselves at him, hinting for a quick hook-up or even a relationship. He just wasn't interested enough—no one has ever truly captured his attention.
That is until he saw you at one of the band’s gigs.
You were sitting in a booth with a friend, sipping a Coke through a straw and taking in your seemingly unfamiliar surroundings. Matt was instantly captivated by your presence, wanting nothing more than to gather the courage to walk over and strike a conversation—to learn more about you.
“Starin’ makes you look creepy.”
Matt’s bandmate and childhood best friend, Nate, remarks, hardly even glancing Matt’s way. His attention is instead confused on his own reflection in the mirror backdrop behind the bar, standing on his tiptoes to see better over the rows of liquor bottles, trying to restyle his newly dyed hair, the sweat on his forehead causing his bangs to stick.
Nate continues, “Go talk to her. Work that so-called ‘Matt Magic’ I hear Chris yappin’ about.”
“Trust me, it’s real.” Chris declares, suddenly appearing and throwing himself down into the seat beside Matt.
He slams a tray of multicoloured shots onto the bar counter, spilling half the contents and leaving the bartender cursing under his breath as he wipes up the mess, glaring at Chris who just grins cheekily, avoiding confrontation.
“I’ve seen it with my own eyes, alright?” Chris continues. “It works like magic—makes the ladies drop to their knees in an instant.”
Nate’s brow raises in amusement, “In the many years I’ve known Matt, I’ve never seen him hook-up or flirt with anyone…” Nate pauses, a teasing grin sliding onto his lips. “Got some problems goin’ on down there or what?”
“Shut the fuck up.” Matt grumbles, swatting away Nate’s hand as he tries to reach out and pat his cheek.
Nate cackles, shaking his head as he grabs one of the shots that Chris eagerly hands out to the group. He then calls out to Nick, who emerges from backstage, adjusting the leather jacket on his shoulders as he settles down beside Chris.
Chris hums as he tugs the collar of Nick’s shirt down, “Nice marks, kid. Who was it this time?”
“None of your fucking business.” Nick answers with a hiss, running his fingers through his blonde hair.
“You’re always in mine,” Chris shoots back, causing Nick to gape at him. “Don’t give me that look, kid. You’re always yappin’ in my ear about the sisters.”
“Oh, Thing 1 and Thing 2,” Nick grins at the mention of the twin sisters that Chris frequently hooks-up with. “Who was the one that was here last time?”
“Zoe,” Chris answers, but the blank look on Nick’s face causes Chris to sigh in annoyance before clarifying, “Thing 1.”
“I thought Thing 1 was Chloe?” Nate chimes in, pulling a confused face.
Chris is quick to jump to Zoe’s defence, arguing that she’s number one, but Matt tunes out the rest of the conversation, rolling his eyes as he picks up the shot glass and downs it quickly before bringing his beer bottle up to his lips.
He then turns his neck slightly to look over at you once again, spotting you this time smiling at your friend and clinking your simple glass of Coke to her colourful cocktail.
Matt can’t help but continue sneaking glances your way. He is, undoubtedly, interested in you. This is unfamiliar territory for him—he’s never felt this drawn to someone before.
He’s not scared or nervous, and he really would walk on over to you to begin a conversation if it wasn’t for the fact you weren’t alone. Your friend was glued to your side… and he hated it.
Matt inwardly curses, wishing he could just get rid of your friend and have you all to himself for the night, but you two seem inseparable. He takes another swig of his beer, his mind racing with ideas. There has to be a way to separate you from your friend, even if it was just for a moment.
He can’t let this opportunity slip away, he’s going to have to find a way to get you alone. Or he’s going to have to wait for the right moment.
“I think he’s staring at me,” Talia whispers across the booth to you. She straightens her posture and runs her fingers through her hair, fixing any stray strands as she takes a quick glance at her reflection in her phone screen. “How do I look? Do I have something in my teeth?”
“You look fine,” You reassure with a nod, sipping your Coke through the straw. Your eyebrows knit together in curiosity as you watch Talia fuss over her appearance, pulling the neckline of her dress lower to show more cleavage. “But who’s staring at you?”
“The tattooed guy with the red strand in his hair, sitting at the bar behind y—The fuck? Don’t turn around!” You ignore Talia’s feeble attempts to redirect your attention as you spin around, easily spotting the man sitting at the bar surrounded by other similar-looking people.
You snort at the sight, but can’t help but notice his attention doesn’t seem to be on your friend. Slowly turning back to face Talia, you see her shoulders sag in defeat.
“He was staring. He looked away as soon as you turned around.”
“I believe you,” You tell her, getting comfortable in your seat as you observe the way she takes quick glances behind you, holding her head high with confidence. “Who is he, anyways?”
“You’re kidding,” Talia baffles, her eyes going wide. She takes offence when you shake your head. “It’s Matt. The guy that’s on my Instagram feed. His band is playing tonight—he’s the reason why we’re here!”
You frown at that, “I thought you wanted to hang out?”
“I do!” Talia quickly says, but you’re less than impressed. She exhales deeply, “Listen… Matt is the drummer in the band that performed earlier, and I haven’t been able to have much free time to see them play. On top of that, we haven’t hung out in a while and this is the only weekend we seem to be available — so I’m basically hitting two birds with one stone here, can you really blame me?”
“Guess not.” You sigh, even though you’re still not impressed with what’s going on.
You felt a little bit used and lied to, especially when she burst through your dorm room earlier and rambled excitedly about how she’s looking forward to spending some time with you tonight.
Your mood turns sour when it dawns on you that you'll most likely be heading back to your dorm room alone tonight, knowing that she will probably blow you off to go blow off some other guy—literally.
You wish you were the type of person to be selfish — to tell her that you’re not happy with her possibly leaving you to go hook-up with some guy, and demand her to stay with you all night to catch up and go home together with a takeout bag full of junk food, and watch a shitty old movie on your small laptop screen.
But you’ve never been that way.
You have never been selfish.
“I need to go pee,” Talia announces, her face twisting in discomfort as she pushes her empty cocktail glass across the table and awkwardly shuffles out of the booth. She picks up her handbag and rummages through quickly, pulling out her purse and shoving it in your hands. “Go get us another drink, and no more Cokes for you either.”
You don’t even get the chance to say anything as Talia waddles away in a rush towards the bathrooms and you push yourself out of the booth with a huff, clutching her purse in your grasp as you weave through the crowd of people blocking your path to the bar, seemingly busy with their conversations to even make room.
The grip on Talia’s purse tightens as you finally reach the counter, watching the bartender lean in to chat up some customer with a flirtatious smile.
You debate on going back to the booth and waiting for Talia so she can work her charm to get you both more drinks. But you decide against it, instead hoisting yourself up onto a vacant barstool, so focussed on the bartender and his cheesy pickup lines that you’re completely unaware of who is sitting next to you.
Matt struggles to contain himself when he feels your shoulder brush against his as you sit down beside him at the bar. He steals a quick glance your way, his heart racing, but you’re focussed intently on the bartender, seemingly oblivious to Matt’s presence.
Matt knows Brent, the bartender, all too well—he’s notorious for getting distracted as he flirts with customers, leaving others waiting, so you won’t be getting served any time soon.
This could be Matt’s chance to finally talk to you, to have the conversation he’s been yearning for since he first laid eyes on you. But the words catch in his throat, and he finds himself unable to face you directly, especially with his bandmates mocking him from the corner of his eye.
Chris makes obnoxious kissing noises, causing Matt to snap his head in that direction, but Chris doesn’t back down from his teasing as he grins and nudges his shoulder.
“C’mon, kid. Show us that ‘Matt Magic’,” The wiggle of Chris’s eyebrows makes Matt want to fight, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has around his beer bottle. Chris quickly throws his hands up in defence. “Just want you to have some fun, man.”
“As much as it pains me to admit it—like it actually hurts me—Chris is right,” Nick chimes in, his eyes flitting between Matt and yourself, who is still wrapped up in your own head to hear the conversation that’s going on. It surprises him. “You’re surrounded by very beautiful women who clearly show interest in you, and you don’t give a fuck. At all.”
“Maybe Matt does have some problems goin’ on down there…” Nate drawls as his eyes dip down to Matt’s jeans, tilting his head to the side teasingly. Matt rolls his eyes at Nate’s comment and reaches out to kick him, but Nick intervenes by pushing Nate to the side while Chris grins, amused by the situation.
“Look,” Nick sighs. “As much as I would love for you to get out there, it’s all on your terms. Don’t let these fucks peer pressure you into doing shit.”
Matt doesn’t feel pressured, not one bit.
But all he wants right now is for his brothers and friend to give him some space so he can be alone with you. It would be the perfect opportunity, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the others making grand gestures behind his back or worse, interrupting the conversation.
As if reading his mind, Nick grips the back of Chris and Nate’s shirts, hauling them away from the bar, though they don’t stay too far—still within reach of their drinks and shots.
It’s not perfect, but it’ll have to do.
Matt takes a deep breath, gently tugging on the earring dangling from his ear as he finally turns in his seat to face you… just in time for the bartender to finish his flirting.
Fuck.
“Sorry about that,” The bartender apologises to you with a faint chuckle as he stands in front of you, running his fingers through his dark hair and adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose before resting his hands on his hips.
It gives you a full view of his all black sleeveless shirt that’s tucked into a pair of dark jeans, and you can’t help but notice the white name tag that stands out against the outfit, identifying him as Brent.
Brent gives you a charming smile, “What can I get for you?”
You hesitate for a moment, trying to remember the name of the cocktail Talia had ordered earlier. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you scan the drinks menu above the bar, pointing to the cheapest options and you’re about to speak up until a voice suddenly interrupts you.
“Can I have a beer, a cosmopolitan, and a Coke?”
You whip your head to the side in annoyance, ready to give the rude customer a piece of your mind for cutting in. But the insults die on your lips as you realise who exactly it is.
It’s the tattooed arm and the flash of red in his hair that lets you know who it is—the guy that Talia has been non-stop talking about, and has been so fascinated with the past couple of months, and even the main topic of tonight's conversations.
Your eyebrows raise in slight shock. You’re beginning to see the appeal… Matt is really pretty.
With Matt seated so close—shoulder to shoulder—you have the opportunity to really take in every detail of his appearance. Though you’ve basically heard Talia rave about him, you’ve never seen him up close and personal before.
The smudged eyeliner and subtle black eyeshadow around his blue eyes give him a slightly intimidating look, but there’s a certain allure to it that makes you sink back into your seat, captivated.
You can’t help but notice the tattoos decorating his arm, the flash of vibrant red in his hair, and the small hole on the side of his nostril that makes you wonder if that’s where a nose piercing once was. The redness around the area suggests he or someone else may have attempted to pierce it recently — perhaps even today.
“That’s what you’re both drinkin’, yeah?” Matt’s question snaps you out of your captivated staring, and he shifts in his seat as he turns to face you fully, the chains on his all-black outfit jingling with his movements.
As he drums his fingernails against the bar as he waits for your answer, you notice the black chipped nail polish, some definitely more chipped than others, but the look suits his edgy appearance perfectly.
“Yes—yeah, I think so…” You answer quickly, realising you’ve been quiet for far too long. But then you pause, your face twisting in confusion as you glance between him and the drinks being made. “How did you know that?”
The corner of Matt’s lip curves upwards in amusement, and he shrugs his shoulders. “I guessed.”
“Here you go, gorgeous,” Brent interrupts as he slides the cocktail and Coke glass in your direction with precise aim, managing to not spill a drop. He then settles the beer bottle down in front of Matt next. “That will be—”
“Wait, can I get another one of those?” You cut him off as you point to the pink-coloured concoction in front of you, and Brent sends a wink your way as he turns on his heel to prepare the drink.
You give him a small smile as a thank you and you turn back to look at Matt who’s already looking at you with his eyebrow raised, and you suddenly feel the need to explain yourself.
“It’s for me.”
Matt nods slowly, “Had enough of the Cokes?”
“No, not exactly… She told me earlier not to get another one,” You say as you glance down at the full glass of Coke in front of you with pursed lips. “But I’ll still take this, you know, just in case I don’t like the cocktail.”
Matt smiles at that, and he reaches for the beer bottle with one hand while the other dips inside his pocket as soon as Brent returns with your newly made drink. He gives you the price and your eyes almost bulge out at the numbers, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you tell him you’ll pay by card.
You’re already mentally preparing yourself for Talia’s reaction when she finds out about the cost. It makes you grimace just thinking about the consequences as you dig through her purse to find her card, but the sound of a machine beeping brings you out of your search, and you lift your head to see Matt with his arm outstretched, his own bank card in hand and pressed down on the card reader.
Did he just…?
Your mouth repeatedly opens and closes in shock, unable to fully process what just happened even though it was the most simplest thing.
Brent’s giving Matt an amused look, his tongue prodding at his cheek to hide the obvious smirk on his face as he shoves the card reader back beneath the bar, and he flutters his fingers at you for a quick goodbye as he serves another customer — you briefly overhear him compliment their hair, but you pay him no attention as you’re meeting eyes with Matt who seems nonchalant about paying for all of your pricey drinks.
“You didn’t have to do that,” You protest quietly. “I had the money, I—”
“I wanted to,” Matt cuts you off, bringing his beer to his lip and taking a sip all while keeping his eyes on you. “I haven’t seen you around this bar before, so think of it as a welcome gift… from me to you.”
“That’s… sweet. Thank you,” You show him your gratitude, warmth spreading in your chest at his unexpected gesture.
Matt nods his head and reaches over to gently clink his beer bottle against one of your cocktail glasses before taking a sip. You decide to follow suit, bringing the reddish-pink cocktail drunk to your lips.
But the second the liquid touches your tongue, your face twists in an unexpected reaction to the flavour, the taste catching you by surprise which causes the involuntary expression that flashes across your features.
Matt watches your reaction intently, an amused glint in his eye as he takes another sip of his beer while you place the cocktail back down on the bar to quickly grab your glass of Coke, washing down the taste with something you’re a lot more familiar with.
“You don’t like it?”
“It’s different,” You admit with an awkward laugh. You feel slightly embarrassed at pulling the most unattractive face and not enjoying a drink that he bought out of his money. “But it’s still a gift, so I’ll drink it.”
“Nah, you don’t have to do that,” Matt shakes his head, the amusement still sparkling in his eyes as he reaches for his card. “Let me buy you another—”
“No!” You immediately interject, not wanting him to spend any more of his money on the expensive drinks. Matt seems a little surprised at your sudden burst, and he reels his hand back to his lap. You cringe at your tone before adding. “I will drink it.”
“Yeah?” He hums, his eyes flitting down to the cocktail on the bar before meeting your gaze again. He tilts his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure about that?”
Your heart thumps at the intensity of his stare, a look you’re unfamiliar with. You nod, doing your best to sound confident as you mutter, “Very.”
“Was there a queue at the bar or something? You took so long,” Talia frowns as soon as you arrive back at your shared booth with both cocktails in hand.
Your tongue pokes out in concentration, careful to not spill anything as you hand one over to Talia who takes it in her grasp.
“Thanks, babe. But did you not use my card? I didn’t get the notification on my phone that my card was being used—did you get us a cosmopolitan?! Do you realise how fucking expensive these are here?!”
“Relax, I didn’t buy these,” You tell her as you slide into the booth, sliding Talia her purse. She stares at you, confusion written across her face, so you clarify; “Courtesy of your favourite drummer boy.”
“Matt bought me a drink?” The look that plasters across Talia’s face is priceless, and you bite back the urge to add on how he bought your drink too. But you let her live in her moment as you nod your head, watching as she takes the information in with wide, excited eyes. “Holy shit. He totally likes me—I fucking knew it. Did he say anything?”
“About what?” You ask, your brows pulling together and Talia points at herself. “Oh, no, not really. He was just talking about alcohol, you know… considering we were both at the bar.”
Talia sighs dreamily, “My type of guy.”
“Yeah, he seems interesting.” You find yourself agreeing, pressing your lips firmly together as you glance over your shoulder in a somewhat hopeful manner that you’ll see Matt still at the bar, sipping his beer or maybe even watching you from afar. But when you don’t see him, you feel an unexpected pang of disappointment.
It’s strange — you’ve never spoken to Matt before today, and your interaction was brief. Yet there’s something about him that has piqued your curiosity, leaving you wanting to know more.
You struggle to explain this newfound fascination. It’s completely out of character for you to be so preoccupied with a near-stranger, especially one that is your best friend’s crush. Normally, you would shrug something like this off and focus on the evening with Talia.
But now, there’s a heaviness in your chest, a restless energy that has you craving another encounter with Matt.
Was it the intensity of his gaze that captivated you? The confident, almost flirtatious yet mysterious way he carried himself? Or was it simply the unexpected gesture of buying you a drink — a gesture that, for whatever reason, has left a lasting impression.
You’ve never been like this before.
So why now? Why all of a sudden?
“What are you thinking about?” Talia’s voice yanks you out of your thoughts and you turn your head back in her direction. You quickly shrug your shoulders and shake your head to silently tell her that it was nothing, but she doesn’t seem convinced. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not thinking—”
“You were staring at the bar,” Talia points out before she decides to follow your gaze, her lips pursing in deep thought as she scans the surroundings. She suddenly smiles, “Are you staring at Brent? The bartender?”
“I said I’m—”
“You should go for it. I heard he gives really good head and honestly—no offence—you need it. He could definitely loosen you up and give you a good time.”
You deadpan, “Are you saying that because it’s the truth, or is it because you’ll feel bad that I’d have to walk home alone while you’re getting laid?”
“Both.” Talia sends you a sly wink, and she clinks her cocktail glass to yours before taking a sip.
You exhale softly with a roll of your eyes, reaching for your own cocktail until your hand stops halfway when you realise you’ve lost the Coke you had left at the bar — it’s likely been snatched up by another customer that got excited over a free drink.
You really don’t like the flavour of his cocktail, and you find yourself wishing you had something to wash it down with. It pains you.
You consider being a bit dramatic, holding your nose to avoid tasting it, or digging through your purse for some gum that you know is pooling at the bottom somewhere. But you decide to just suck it up and drink it without making a fuss.
After all, it was a gift.
Just as you’re about to bring the glass to your lips, another is suddenly placed in front of you — a fresh, bubbly Coke with ice and a red straw that faces towards you..
Talia’s the first to respond to this stranger, her hand flying to cover her mouth to stifle her reaction as she chokes on her drink, her eyes strained and watery. You check on her to make sure that she’s okay before you glance up, slightly taken aback when you see Matt.
“You forgot your drink at the bar,” He tells you in a low tone. His eyes flick down to the cocktail in your hands, and his eyebrow raises slightly. “Are you sure you’re goin' to drink it?”
“I was going to.” Your reply in a whisper. But before you can say anything else, Matt is taking the cocktail from your hands and replacing it with the fresh Coke he’s brought over.
He holds the stem of the cocktail glass between his fingers, eyeing the brightly coloured drink for a moment before sliding it over to Talia, who is still uncharacteristically speechless. She quickly regains her composure, grasping the drink and pulling it close to her chest, as if it’s the most meaningful thing anyone has ever done for her.
“Enjoy this one instead,” Matt murmurs to you, and just as he begins to turn away, you find yourself calling out his name.
You’re not entirely sure why you’ve done so — perhaps it’s a reluctance to let him go so quickly, a desire to indulge the growing fascination you’ve developed for him. Or maybe it’s because you can see the gears turning in Talia’s head as she tries to figure out how to start a conversation with him—to flirt with him.
You’re a good friend to Talia, you always have been.
You always put her first.
“Do you want to join us?” You offer with a friendly smile, and you gesture towards the empty seat opposite you—beside Talia. “You’re welcome to come sit with us and hang out, unless you have somewhere else to be?”
Matt is quiet for a moment, his eyes darting around the bar as if he’s searching for something, but then he nods and takes you up on your offer. Talia’s beaming ear to ear with excitement, shuffling to the side to make space for him on her side of the booth.
But to your surprise, Matt sits down beside you instead, his shoulder knocking heavily against yours as he settles into the small space. He apologises quickly, lifting a hand to gently rub the sore spot.
You find yourself glued to your seat, sandwiched between the wooden barrier on the right and Matt’s body pressed against your left. The heat radiating off him envelops you, but you try not to pay too much attention to it, especially when you see Talia eyeing the two of you with a slightly wrinkled nose and an upturned lip.
However, Talia’s expression soon shifts to a grin as she turns her attention to Matt, “Thank you for buying the drinks,” She gestures towards the cocktail in front of her. “I’ll get your next one.”
“I appreciate that,” Matt replies, dipping his head in gratitude.
He takes a quick sip of his beer, and you notice Talia watching him carefully, her eyebrows furrowing as she tilts her head, trying to read the label from her seat.
Matt seems to pick up on this, and he comically and slowly rotates the bottle in Talia’s direction. “It’s new — Brent got it delivered today.”
“Lost Boys? He got a drink named after one of your songs?” Talia teases playfully, and Matt simply nods in response. You fight the urge to snort at that fact, finding it a little amusing.
“You should try it,” Matt nudges you softly, offering you a taste of his beer. You are about to decline, to shake your head and say you’re fine with the Coke, but the smile that dances across his lips is enough to make you slowly change your mind. “I think you might like this better than the cocktail.”
You don’t question it further, and instead take the beer in your hands, taking a tentative sip. You’re a bit hesitant on the initial taste, rubbing your lips together firmly as Matt and Talia watch you, waiting for your honest opinion. you just take the beer in your hands for a sip and you’re hesitant on the taste that hits your tongue, rubbing your lips together firmly as the pair watch you, waiting for your honest opinion.
You swallow thickly, but are pleasantly surprised. “It’s actually really good.”
Matt hums, “Told you.”
“Let me try,” Talia chimes in, reaching out for the beer. You happily hand it over to her, but then you realise your mistake, turning to look at Matt with a slightly apologetic look on your face as it dawns on you that you’re sharing around his drink.
Matt’s already watching you when you look at him, and you go to apologise, but Talia’s already handing him back his beer with a satisfied expression.
“I like it too—it’s sweet.” She confirms.
“That can be the next round of drinks then, yeah?” Matt says, his eyes briefly darting down to Talia’s purse beside her.
Talia’s smile falters for a moment when she remembers that she was the one that offered to buy him his next drink. You can tell she’s thinking about the dent these drinks are going to put on her bank account, but she quickly musters up another smile and nods her head, excited at the thought of buying Matt something.
Before Talia can respond, you decide to come to her aid as your hand slips towards your own purse. “You don’t have to buy the next drink. We can go in halves—”
“Don’t offend me like that,” Talia cuts you off with a playful flip of her hair. “I have the money. I’ll get it.”
You wince at that, unconvinced. “You sure?”
“Totally,” Talia smirks. She then turns to face Matt, who has been quietly sipping his beer. “Your set earlier was fucking amazing, by the way. The band is so—”
“DID SOMEBODY SAY SHOTS?!” An unfamiliar voice screeches at the top of their lungs as a tray of multicoloured shots is suddenly thrust onto the table in front of you all, causing some of the liquid to spill over. A quick hand reaches out to try and recover them despite half of the liquid pooling around the tray.
As your eyes trail up the arm of the person who brought over the shots, you’re surprised to see an identical-looking guy to Matt, but with a backwards cap on his curly head of brown hair. His cheeks are flushed—a clear sign that he’s had quite a bit to drink already.
Standing on one side of him is another identical-looking guy, but with blonde hair, and he’s cursing under his breath and scolding the backwards capped one for the mess he’s created.
The capped guy is trying (and failing) to scoop the spilled alcohol back into the cups using just his pinky finger. It’s a comical sight, with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in pure concentration.
“This is the second fuckin’ time this has happened,” Matt informs with a sigh, but the chuckle that escapes him shows he’s not as annoyed as he’s letting on. “Chris also spilled them earlier.”
The backwards capped guy, who you now discover is named Chris, snaps his head up in offence at Matt’s comment and stops his failed attempts at trying to scoop the alcohol back into the shot glasses.
“I tripped over your fuckin’ dumbass shoe actually,” Chris hisses through his teeth as he knocks his foot against Matt, who doesn’t seem fazed at the attack at all. “Anyway. Scoot up, let us in.”
“Are you joining us?” Talia’s eyes twinkle at the thought of her favourite band joining the booth, and you couldn’t help but feel happy for her, knowing that she’s been waiting for this moment to happen.
However, you can’t help but feel a bit confused and slightly worried about where the others would fit, especially inside the cramped booth. It could fit four people at most, but you weren’t sure about the six. You’re already feeling a bit squished beside Matt and the wooden barrier.
“Of course we’re joining you, that’s the reason why we got shots.” The blonde-haired guy, who you found out is called Nick, scoffs as he makes a quick gesture to Talia to scoot up, creating just enough room for him and the other bandmate, Nate (who funnily enough has a name tag written across his chest), to squeeze in on her side of the booth.
“Excuse me, kid.” Chris grunts as he clamps a hand down on Matt’s shoulder to push himself up, placing his shoe on the smallest bit of booth space between Matt’s legs before climbing over you both, muttering how he doesn’t want to sit on the end.
Matt’s arm slides around your middle in an instant as he moves to the edge of the booth, pulling you along with him to let Chris sit at your other side, allowing Chris to be squashed between you and the wooden barrier instead. He weirdly seems okay with it, although he does wince when he feels your purse dig into his side, and you’re quick to move it with an apology, but he dismisses it with a wave and a kind smile.
Now you’re pressed right up against Matt, his arm bringing you even close to him. After a few moments, he lets you go, his fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your back as he gently pulls your shirt that had risen up back down, keeping you decent before his arm falls back into his own lap.
The brief touch sends goosebumps crawling up your skin, and you involuntarily shiver. You straighten your posture and tear your attention away from Matt’s wandering eyes, missing the small grin that tugs at the corners of his lips.
What you don’t miss is Talia staring at you, and as soon as you meet her gaze, her lips pull into a tight smile which you return back, grabbing your glass of Coke to distract yourself from what just happened.
“You. Nuh-uh—no way, kid. Put that down,” Nate points a finger at you and shakes his head with a tut. “We’re taking shots before we continue anythin’. You pick first.”
Reaching for one of the spilled shots that has the least amount of drink in it, you go for the easiest option. Nate’s mouth drops and his eyebrows knit together, as if you’ve just outwardly offended him, but he doesn’t say anything as he and the others quickly pick their own shots and clink their glasses together, eagerly downing the drinks.
You’re pleasantly surprised at the fruity taste that slides down your throat, but you can’t help but wince at the burn it leaves behind, similar to Nick, who starts to complain.
“What the fuck was that?!” Nick fake retches and rubs his throat, his other hand quickly reaching for his beer to wash down the taste. “What flavour was that—What did you fucking get?!”
“I dunno—a whole bunch of different shit,” Chris shrugs as he picks up Nick’s empty shot glass, taking a sniff. His eyebrows raise in surprise. “That’s passionfruit, kid. I had that too. We matched.”
“Oh, I hate it.” Nick gags again, bringing his beer bottle to his lips again to take a few hefty gulps, clearly trying to rid himself of the unpleasant taste.
“I think me and Matt had strawberry,” Talia announces, staring at the red stain on Matt’s chosen shot gloss. She grins, “We matched.”
Matt nods, then turns to you, “What did you have?”
“Raspberry,” Nate answers for you as he winks at you from across the booth, signifying you matched shots with him.
“Oh! So not only did I have a disgusting flavour, but I matched with Chris?” Nick scoffs, eyeballing every single one of you with irritancy. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“So, what brought you both here tonight?” Chris asks you and Talia after a few more drinks, courtesy of Talia who had promised to buy the next round.
Originally, the next drinks that were bought by Talia were supposed to be for just you, her and Matt. But with the others joining the table and their constant pleading, she ended up purchasing more than she had planned.
You feel bad, especially knowing how pricey this bar is, and make a mental note to pay for half of the drinks bought at the end of the night — even though Talia keeps giving you side glances, letting you know that everything is fine.
This is her favourite band after all, and she would do anything to spend a few more minutes with them… or even just Matt.
“Just to catch up over some drinks,” You tell him, glancing over at the stage where a few of their set pieces are still laid out. “We came to listen to your band too.”
“Yeah?” Chris grins, leaning back into his seat, his legs spreading wide beneath the table. “Are you a fan of our music?”
“I’m a huge fan,” Talia gushes, and you allow her to take the lead in the conversation. She leans forward, elbows on the table, causing her cleavage to almost spill out of the top of her dress in a deliberate gesture.
You admire Talia’s confidence, even though you want to tell her that she doesn’t need to try so hard to get their attention — she’s gorgeous as is.
Talia continues, “I’ve pretty much seen every single one of your shows here.”
“Have you been to any of our shows?” Matt asks, and it takes you a moment to realise that he’s talking to you, as everyone at the table is now staring and waiting for your reply. The corner of Matt’s lip curls upwards slightly as he tilts his head. “This your first time?”
“She’s never been,” Talia answers for you. “She doesn’t listen to this type of music. I practically had to force her out of her—”
“Is there something wrong with our music?” Nick asks you with mock offence, pressing his hand against his chest like you actually wounded him. Chris tuts with a shake of his head, making a joke about how much of a fake you are while Nate stays silent with a grin, watching everything unfold.
“No, nothing is wrong with your music,” You laugh softly. “I just really like the band ‘Solarz’.”
“You like Solarz?” Nick gapes at you, the mock offence look dropping from his face as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You nod your head to confirm, and he breathes out, “I think you might seriously be my favourite person ever.”
Nate and Chris laugh at that while Matt remains quiet with a small grin on his face, keeping his eyes locked. You start to feel a little stuffy and nervous, especially with how his body is pressed against yours.
“Solarz is incredible,” Talia chimes in above the laughter, and you smile at her, grateful for the times she’s cleared her schedule to go to their concerts with you. You really do owe her. “Matt, do you like Solarz too?”
“I think they’re great,” Matt nods, his answer short and to the point. Talia smiles, but before she can speak again, Matt turns to you and asks, “Is this really your first time watchin’ us?”
“Yeah,” You nod, glancing over at Talia, who seems a little dejected. You don’t want to see her upset or left out, so you gesture towards her, hoping to bring Matt’s attention to her. “But, like Talia said, she’s a huge fan of y—”
“I think you should let me show you what’s backstage…” Matt cuts you off, leaning forward to whisper to you, even though his words are heard by everyone in the booth.
He stares at you through the strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes, waiting for your answer. You struggle to respond, feeling all eyes on you.
Talia is clearly not impressed by Matt’s sudden invitation to you. Her mouth is hung open in shock, and her eyebrows are pulled together in a clear expression of displeasure. You can’t blame her, given how she’s been trying to flirt with Matt this whole time, only for him to disregard her advances and ask you instead if you want to see what’s backstage.
The phrase itself seems to hold a deeper meaning, based on the reactions of the others. Matt’s brothers and Nate all look quite shocked, some more smug than others, subtly nudging each other under the table. Chris even wiggles his eyebrows as he mouths the words ‘Matt Magic’ to Nick and Nate, the former gasping in response.
You feel conflicted as Matt’s hand slips into the gap between the table and your own, his palm facing upwards as he laces his fingers with yours. The warmth of his hand is a contrast to the cold metal of his rings, and you find yourself curling your fingers around his in a gentle grip.
“What do you say?” Matt asks, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Let me take you backstage. Just me and you, yeah? Come with me.”
You are aware of how stupid you must look right now, not speaking a word while the others are staring at you. You’re unsure of what to say, especially when a big part of you wants to decline for Talia’s sake — she’s the dedicated fan, and deserves this more than you do.
But another part of you is tempted by Matt’s invitation, drawn to him. The part wants nothing man that for you to grip his hand tighter and allow him to drag you wherever backstage.
You’ve always been unlucky with situations like these, always the one that’s left behind during hangouts at a bar while others had fun with boys or getting drunk — which, to be fair, is all on you. You never were the one to go home with some complete stranger or let yourself indulge in alcohol until you were able to function, it was never your thing.
You nod your head just as Talia calls out your name, and your head immediately snaps in her direction, meeting her wide eyes with your own.
“Talia, I—” You start to say, but the words catch in your throat as Matt is already sliding out of the booth, his fingers tightening around yours and pulling you along with him.
You barely have time to react, hurriedly grabbing your purse as you’re whisked away from the group. You send an apologetic smile Talia’s way, wishing you could explain yourself to her, but the noises of Nate and Chris’s hollering and whooping drowns out any chance you have.
You tighten your hand around Matt’s as he pulls you through the crowded bar, and you duck your head low to avoid the stares of strangers who watch you with him — wishing that they were in your position. It gives you a slight confidence boost, knowing that people are jealous of you, and you dwell on that feeling for a moment.
Soon, Matt is leading you down a vacant hallway, heading towards a red door that reads ‘BACKSTAGE. STAFF AND BAND ACCESS ONLY’ in bold lettering.
“Here we go…” Matt mumbles under his breath as he pushes open the door, allowing you to walk in first.
The backstage area is a sight to behold. Fancy string lights hang from the ceiling, their bulbs flickering as Matt flips a switch to turn them on, bathing the room in a warm glow. The colour scheme is a combination of red and black — the walls are painted a blood red, adorned with various posters of bands, while a plush black carpet covers the floor, littered with instruments and clothing.
Your eyes are immediately drawn to a pair of light blue panties thrown across the arm of a leather sofa, and Matt seems to follow your gaze.
“One of Chris’s girls was in here before the show; Zoe,” The name doesn’t ring any bells, but you nod anyway, watching as he unzips a backpack with Chris’s name on it and shoves the panties inside as he mumbles under his breath, “At least Nick fuckin’ cleans up after himself.”
“Cleans up?” You can’t help but ask, and Matt responds with a grin, gently kicking the backpack to the side, out of your curious gaze.
Your eyes scan the room, taking in the various items scattered about — a few zip lock bags on the glass coffee table, some filled with pre-rolled joints and others with just the marijuana.
“Chris and Nate,” Matt whispers in your ear, causing you to jump slightly at his sudden closeness. They like takin’ a hit before goin’ onstage, calms their nerves.”
You’re quiet for a moment, then ask, “What about you?”
“Sometimes, but not tonight” Matt moves to stand directly in front of you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, his rings gliding gently over your skin as he meets your gaze. “You know the reason why I brought you here, right?”
“Apparently not just to see what’s backstage,” You respond with a lighthearted laugh, though you can’t deny the nervousness bubbling within you. You swallow thickly, your palms sweaty and clammy. “I don’t—I don’t do this type of thing.”
Matt hums, “Do what?”
You feel a surge of embarrassment as the heat rises up your neck, and you can’t bring yourself to look Matt in the eyes, instead focussing on the horse necklace hanging around his neck. You wish the ground would swallow you whole this moment.
Suddenly, Matt gently grasps your chin, using his fingers and thumb to tilt your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze once again.
“Hey, if you’re uncomfortable, I can take you back out to the back right now,” Matt tells you, his tone sincere and honest. “Just say the word and we’ll leave — I’ll take you back to your friend and even call a cab for you to go home if you don’t want to stay.”
“That’s the thing…” You pause, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you grapple with your inner turmoil. “I do want to stay. You’re… you’re interesting.”
“Me? I’m interesting?” Matt can’t help but chuckle, a grin spreading across his face. “Sweetheart, it’s actually you that interested me. You caught my attention the moment I laid eyes on you. I’ve never seen you around before, and yet you make me feel like I’m goin’ crazy. I just—” He stops, voice huskier as he stares at you. “I want you so bad. I want to play with you.”
“Play?”
“Will you let me play with you?” Matt asks you sweetly despite the dark look in his eyes. “I can make you feel good… wanna make that pretty pussy of yours ready for me.”
You let out a shaky breath and nod your head, “Okay.”
You gasp as Matt instantly turns you around, your back now pressed to his chest with his lips grazing across your shoulder, his teeth nipping at the skin as his hands slowly slide down the strap of your purse, letting it drop to the floor with a thump.
Your heart beats wildly in your chest as his tentative touch, trying your best to steady your breathing as his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt, his knuckles brushing your sides as he lifts the shirt up, bringing it over your head and letting it pool to the floor.
Matt’s teeth snag at your earlobe and you crane your head to the side, allowing him to nip and suck at the area as much as he pleases, eliciting a satisfied hum from you. He pushes his hips forward, his bulge rutting against your lower back while his hands come down to rest at your hips.
You fight the urge to laugh when you feel his fingers drum a beat on your skin, a similar pattern to the one that was playing earlier when he was on stage performing, but the urge to laugh soon disappears when he bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, your knees almost buckling from shock if it wasn’t for the grip he tightened around you.
“You’re so fuckin’ sensitive,” Matt murmurs against your skin, his tongue flattening over the area he bit down on. “Are you sensitive in other places too?”
“Matt…” You whisper his name when you feel his blunt fingernails dig into your hips to turn you around, his nose brushing over your own before he leans in to push his lips to yours for the first time.
The kiss is soft at first—a few second lip lock that causes your body to tingle with nerves that soon slip away when you feel the intensity grow, and your hands slide around his shoulders while his come up to cup the sides of your neck, his head tilting to the side as his tongue parts your lips.
You grip the hair at the nape of his neck to bring him as close to you as possible, and Matt follows, his body flush against yours with his hands secure around your neck, taking control of the passionate and heated kiss.
It makes your head spin and lungs burn—desperate for air, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to part away from him so soon. His kiss is intoxicating.
Matt breaks away from the kiss as he pants, “Need you–need you to—” He cuts himself off only to reconnect your lips, unable to finish his sentence until he has to force himself back. “Fuck—I need you to lie down f’me.”
You immediately drop down to the carpet with no further questions, not daring to lay across the sofa after seeing the underwear one of Chris’s girls had left behind on the arm of it.
Matt drops down carefully to sit at your waist, his knees planted on either side of your hips. You watch as he takes off his oversized graphic shirt, messing up his hair even more than it already was as it’s tugged over his head.
You’re in complete awe at his body, your hands reaching out to trace the happy trail that leads down to his jeans, making your mouth water.
His horse chained necklace glides across your skin when he leans down to litter kisses across your body, paying extra attention to your breasts that he’s eager to rip free from your bra—he doesn’t even apologise once he tears the material.
Your head tips back with a gasp as his tongue rolls over your pebbled nipple before it’s sucked into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud which elicits a moan from you, unable to control the subtle twitches of your body.
“Pretty—fuckin’ pretty…” Matt praises, his tongue swirling around the opposite nipple as his fingers knead the plush skin of the other. “You’re so sensitive. So easy to play with.”
“Matt—”
“Shhh, sweetheart…” Matt shushes you as you moan a little too loudly, peering up at you through hooded lids as he pulls your jeans and panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere to the side as he pries open your thighs, his gaze flitting down to your glistening folds.
Your heart races as he stares at your pussy, feeling shy and too exposed. You debate on closing your legs so he couldn’t look anymore, or telling him to hurry up so you don’t feel hot under his gaze.
Matt moves down to lay between your legs, his mouth trailing kisses over the skin of your inner thighs. You almost lose yourself as his tongue presses between your folds, his nose rubbing against your throbbing clit that’s been begging for his attention.
“Matt…” You whisper out his name pathetically, your back arching off of the floor as his hands join, two fingers pushing through your entrance and curling, drawing out a long moan from you.
He’s sloppy with his tongue, licking you in all the right places that has your toes curling over his shoulders, and his fingers that fuck into you has you wailing. You’re loud now — too loud to the point Matt’s free hand moves up your body to press over your mouth, keeping your noises muffled by the palm of his hand.
Your cunt clenches around Matt’s fingers in desperation, and the vibrations of his satisfied hums sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pure bliss, unable to watch the mess of hair between your legs no more.
His fingers stroke your gummy walls, the cold metal of his rings (that he really should’ve taken off) sends shivers down your spine.
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Matt compliments before his lips wrap around your clit, and you moan beneath his palm, your thighs shaking on either side of his head as he fingers you faster and harder — the wet, sloppy sounds of your cunt making you want to curl up in embarrassment, but your orgasm is rapidly approaching and you want nothing more than to come undone around his fingers.
He repeatedly whispers praises and compliments as he continues his ministrations through your orgasm; his nose nudging your little bundle of nerves, leaving messy and sloppy kisses on your cunt, and his fingers curling to graze against the spot deep within which is enough to make you tear up, becoming far too sensitive.
You’re pushing him back with your foot, and Matt chuckles as he finally lets you go. He moves to kneel between your legs that have fallen from his shoulders, and he watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath.
“Doin’ so good for me, sweetheart.” Your heart warms at Matt’s praise, and you peel your eyes open just in time to see him bring his two fingers to his mouth, covered in your arousal. He keeps eye contact with you as he pushes the digits past his lips to suck them clear, and you find the sight unbelievably attractive.
He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop! before his hands drop down to the belt on his jeans, unbuckling with one hand and pulling it through the loops. He’s quick to get rid of the rest of his clothing, moving them out of the way with a hard shove so it wouldn’t cause any interruptions between you both.
Matt’s hand locks around your wrist to tug you upwards, forcing you to sit up, and your forehead almost knocks against his chest from the force.
His head dips low to kiss your lips softly before he orders you to turn around — to get on your hands and knees in front of him. You do as you’re told without question, flipping around onto your knees with your ass in the air and face resting against the plush carpet.
“Shiiit… wish you could see yourself from this angle.” Matt curses, his fingers gripping the flesh of your ass, giving the skin a few hefty slaps. He moves forward on his knees, and his fingers wrap around his cock to tap the head against your puffy folds, collecting your arousal with a low groan.
“Please, Matt… Please.” You manage to pathetically plead out, and Matt nods with a hum. His tongue licks across his bottom lip before tucking it between his teeth, watching as he pushes his thick tip into your cunt.
Your eyes widen at the stretch—the burn—fully understanding how big he is even without seeing it for yourself. He stops for a few seconds to let out a shaky exhale, his hands rubbing at your hips as he feels you tremble beneath him. It sounds like he’s mocking you, but you pay no attention as you wiggle your ass back onto him, begging for him to move.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” Matt hisses through gritted teeth at the go ahead, and he moves his hand from your hips to your lower back, thrusting forward to push himself in deeper, bottoming out completely.
A choked gasp rips from the back of your throat, your nails scraping across the carpet in search of anything to grasp onto to keep yourself grounded as Matt’s hips press against your ass, his cock buried deep within the warm of your walls. He’s panting while you’re unable to make a noise, mouth stuck open wide as Matt pulls his hips back before rolling them forward, thrusting back into you.
His deep strokes have you struggling to speak, wanting to let him know how good it feels as he’s angling his hips, hitting a particular spot inside of you that has you squealing, almost sending you flying forwards if it wasn’t for his grip.
“Easy, girl. I got you,” Matt laughs between grunts, his hips slapping against your ass. “Am I makin’ you feel good?”
“S’good.” Your words slur, mind too blank to come up with a functioning sentence. He laughs again before finding a good rhythm to work with—a rhythm that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, moving too fast for you to register.
“I’m gonna cum in this tight cunt of yours—fill you up. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make a fuckin’ mess.” The way his tone sounds and how he rambles his words indicate how close he is to cumming, and you’re not far behind.
You wish you could move back against him. You wish you could do more than just bend over with your ass in the air and take what he gives you. You want to make him feel good too, but you struggle to find your strength and your mind is too clouded with lust and pleasure to even begin to move.
You’re stuck as a moaning mess for Matt to use — not that you’re complaining.
The only thing you can do is tighten your cunt around his cock in hopes it will do something to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel, and he gives you one big thrust before he stills, his cock pumping long spurts of cum deep within your pussy as he hits his climax.
The feeling alone sets you off into your last orgasm of the night, your body tingling at the warmth that spreads through you. He’s panting heavily behind you, slowly rolling his hips to ride it out, and he grins when he feels your body convulsing.
Matt takes his time pulling out of you, stroking your lower back tenderly. Once you’re free, your body flops down to the carpet, the air knocking out of your lungs from the harsh impact, leaving you gasping for air as you try to regulate your erratic breathing.
You grimace a little when you feel Matt’s cum drip out of your pussy, making a sticky mess between your thighs and the carpet below you, knowing you’ll definitely have to go home after this and shower.
Mustering up enough of your strength, you try to turn your head to peer over your shoulder to see if Matt is okay, but a gasp fleets past your lips and your body stills when you feel Matt’s hands run up the backs of your thighs and to your ass, kneading your asscheeks before pulling them apart.
He leans down, leaving a kiss on your leaking pussy from behind. “Thank you for lettin’ me play with you.”
© sturnioz
#©sturnioz#☆ drummer!matt#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets smut
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Trophy | 141 x Reader
Day 15: Fantasy AU w/ Task Force 141
Summary: When the MacTavish Clan raids a neighboring clan who grew a bit too bold, they don’t expect to find the feisty, beaten wife of the other clan’s chief.
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: Violence, blood, implied abuse, death, implied rape, kidnapping
A/N: well this was supposed to be fluff, but I hope you enjoy regardless, lmk what you think<3
Requests are open!
The MacTavish Clan had been preparing for a raid on a neighboring clan that kept pushing boundaries, with local women disappearing into the night with no explanation at all, weapons disappearing, and footsteps discovered that weren’t of the style of shoe anyone within the clan wore, and that was among the less suspicious things.
The most talented and local blacksmith, Simon, known for his welding mask in a skull shape, had been honing the weapons for it.
Johnny, the leader of the Clan, had been discussing plans with Price, the leader of their men, and Gaz, his advisor. The general idea was simple, keep it undercover as long as possible, or until signs of their missing women and supplies were found, then they would go loud, letting every other man flood in.
Plunder what they could from the Gravison Clan, take their resources, and lives, and maybe take a few women from them in retaliation.
A few hours later, things were progressing smoothly, Price having infiltrated their walls under the cover of darkness, most men settling down for the night already, when the warlord discovered just what he’d been expecting in a large boat just offshore: the women of the MacTavish Clan bound and gagged in the storage compartment in the bottom.
One flaming arrow was shot into the sky, and just like that, every man from the Clan was flooding the Gravison Clan’s walls and defenses, slaughtering everyone they found save for the women and children, hunting down their leader, going through every house and home, Johnny wanting the kill for himself.
When he finally found the man, cowering inside a large home, he slit his throat after distributing more than a few hits to his body, and more than a few barked insults and curses at him.
The man’s head was soon put on a pike to be displayed, a sign of warning.
But what he hadn’t expected to find was a feisty woman, the wife of the Gravison Clan’s leader, fighting more than even her husband had, yelling and hissing and cursing at Johnny as he grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder even as she kicked and clawed, nails drawing a bit of blood. It wasn’t often he took a prize from his battles, but you were intriguing, he’d never seen a woman with so much fight.
“Quit yer yappin’, woman.”
He grumbled as you pounded at his back, cursing him out so severely that the Devil himself would blush. The smell of smoke was thick in the air as huts and buildings were burned, leaving behind ashy remnants of what had been of the Clan.
Burnt bones crunched beneath his feet as he walked back to what had been of the gates, approaching his short, sturdy horse, hopping on in one smooth movement, one hand gathering both reigns as Price joined him on his own horse, following as Johnny took point back to the MacTavish Clan’s lands.
His warlord only raised a brow at the yelling woman thrown over his shoulder but didn’t question it, the ride silent back to their lands as your throat eventually grew too raw to keep screaming, body shivering from the cold and the exhaustion quickly seeping deep into your bones. Whether you had fallen asleep or passed out was lost on him, but he didn’t care either way, Price only spoke once he was sure your breathing had fallen into a deeper rhythm indicating unconsciousness.
“Didn’t take you as one to take a prize mare.”
Price commented, carefully eying his Chief, trying to read his mood based on the little tells. Johnny shrugged.
“Not a prize mare, just felt different about this one.”
And that was that. The conversation had ended, Price only giving a little grunt in return before they continued on the path home.
When they finally arrived, they had plenty of work to do.
~
When you woke, you first registered the pounding headache between your eyes, the loud sounds outside of work being done, people shouting, wood being sawed, and metal being hammered, only adding to your discomfort.
You tried to sit up, quietly groaning, leaning against the wall behind you.
It was a wonder you weren’t dead yet, honestly. But maybe that was part of their game, maybe they would just give you a glimmer of hope only to slaughter you like cattle, or turn you into a sex slave, or just an object to take their anger out on. It wouldn’t surprise you.
Your clothes had been changed. From the thin nightgown you’d worn the night earlier, now to a thin white smock, a strap dress sewn together at the sides hanging nearby.
Splotchy bruises were spread across your skin from the night earlier, though you couldn’t tell if they were from the other Chief, or your husband’s hands nights ago. They felt tender when you brushed a hand against them as if someone had rubbed against them.
You were in what seemed to be a separate section of a longhouse, a lit torch burning mildly as it hung from the mud and stone walls. Your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness that still prevailed in the room, just as you heard a door creak, scrambling away as a man with honey-brown skin and short, tightly curled hair stepped in.
“Easy, I’m not here to hurt you.”
He said, offering a small smile that would’ve been reassuring in any other predicament. There was a platter in his hands, looking as if it was made of terracotta, a small roasted bird resting on it as he stepped further in, shutting the door behind him.
You watched warily as he set the plate down on one end of the bed you were in, moving to lean against a wall opposite the bed. He watched as you slowly picked the plate up, glancing at the food, before pulling the wing part off with cracked nails, taking a bite, and reluctantly deciding it was delicious.
“I’m Kyle, but everyone calls me Gaz. You are..?”
You looked him dead in the eye, chewing your bite of food, dead stare unnerving him slightly, before you swallowed, a flicker of pain in your eyes from how your throat ached until you finally responded.
“Y/N.”
You croaked out, and he nodded, but frowned slightly, giving you a glance over, before his gaze went back to your face.
“I'll be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to be so docile, considering you just watched your husband die by our Chief’s hand—“
“Good.”
Your raspy voice interrupted, eyes boring into his as you took another bite of the meat, and you watched his brows furrow for a moment. You shifted in the bed slightly, moving to pull your knees to your chest, plate balancing on your knee as the smock was pulled up slightly, showcasing one of the nastier bruises on your thigh.
His eyes darted to the bruises, quickly piecing things together as he carefully spoke his next few words.
“Your husband wasn’t a good man, was he?”
You shook your head, and he gave a little thoughtful nod, getting up, opening the door, walking out, closing it while muttering to himself. You managed to hear only a quiet,
“Bloody hell,”
Tags:
@hawke1917
@flufftober
#writers on tumblr#cod fanfic#cod soap#soap cod#cod mw3#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#Simon riley#John price#captain johnathan price#captain john price#captain price#kyle gaz garrick#kyle Garrick#tf141#task force 141#task force x reader#task force 141 x reader#poly!141#john price x y/n#john price x reader#soap x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#simon ghost x reader#call of duty fanfic#flufftober#flufftober2024
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Hi there! I was thinking of a weird scenario
How do you think the jjk men would react to their darling getting slapped by another man in front of them?? Like their darling got in a fight with someone and then boom they get hit in the face💀💀
Takeout Takedown(Part 1)
Cw/Tw - non specific discrimination, Violence, blood, and gore(Geto)
Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, and Toji
GN!Reader, Short fic style, dating for about 5-6 months, reader isn’t helpless/it’s not specified, the first few paragraphs are the build up and context for everything else. Next up - Sukuna, Mahito, Choso, and Kenjaku
What was supposed to be a quick pick up was now an awful argument between you and whoever this guy was. You’d ordered food for pick up, coming from after some shopping with your man, he was waiting out front but here you were. The bag of getting cold food, blocked, by this Neanderthal of a man.
Why you might ask, why the hell was he blocking you? Because there’s no way this was your order, that’s clearly not your name either, and that’s too much food for someone like you. Was he fat shaming, assuming you’re poor, all of the above?
Then this guy has the audacity to after making his points continuously interrupt you every time you tried to say anything. “That’s my boyfriend’s na-“ and he starts talking about how this place doesn’t even have good food that it’s just full of posers who can’t appreciate real Japanese food. It takes everything in you to not laugh at that, because what the absolute fuck is he going on about?
So instead while he’s busy, yappin, you lean to reach around him for the bag. Besides your lover was probably getting curious what was taking so long and might come in! Rather than wanting a big fiasco in public you just grab it and are about to turn to go when.
SMACK.
SATORU GOJO
Your passenger Princess was wondering, what had to be taking so long? The app said it was ready for pickup, you’d been in there for almost 10 minutes now too! He’d already gone through the glove box and console so now with nothing else, Gojo would come wait with you!
He was half expecting that when he pushed those doors open you’d bump into him with the food, but not you having just been cracked across the face falling into a nearby table. His cursed energy cracked and spit like hot oil as he rushed to lift you up, your lip busted and nose bleeding. You’re pulled into his strong arms still having to blink coming back from shock.
Gojo on the other hand looks to the guy, takes his phone out and takes his photo. Dave or whatever his name is, tries to puff up his chest to not seem intimidated. Gojo however is just smiling, and tucks his phone away after snapping the pic with a laugh, “Dang, our food is all over the floor, guess I’ll order us some more yeah lovely? I’ll get your favorite!”
Dave scoffs, crossing his arms, and kicks one of the spilled boxes of food, “you must be the supposed boyfriend huh? Honestly really disgusting what this world is coming to, look at you two! Also you can’t take my photo without my consent that’s ille-“
“Zip it. You’re lucky I’m not handling you myself,” Gojo says, his voice smooth and even, “go ahead though, tell me how a photo is illegal versus you harassing and hitting someone.”
You look between the two swallowing, a hand touching at your tender lip and nose feeling the warm blood on your face. Gojo looks down to you with such a sorry look, you knew he’d be blaming himself for this for a while. Dave however doesn’t seem to know when to quit cause he starts marching forward to stick a hand to gojo’s chest- caught by infinity.
Gojo sighs, looking to the other man who’s so surprised his hand isn’t moving and his lip twitches annoyed. Then, Gojo starts walking forward, infinity pushing Dave back and holding him to the wall. Gojo keeps walking forward the pressure crushing Dave against the wall more and more, broken wheezes coming from his blubbering mouth.
“I like to think I’m pretty fair! I gave you a chance to run, told you off, and am letting the proper people handle you. All of this because they wanted to grab our food.” Gojo gives a laugh shaking his head brushing a hand through those beautiful white locks, “C’mmoooooon you’re not even worth my breath! What, you visiting to see a maid cafe? To go hound on Japanese teen girls like in your hentai? Get a life or die.”
Almost in a flash The world is squishing with reality bending, morphing like those bad Ai generated videos. Then you’re outside the doors to Gojo’s apartment, and he’s still carrying you. He looks down with such a big sad puppy dog look and starts kissing you all over whining, “my baaabbbyyyyy! Oohhh I’m so so sorryyy!!!! I promise that won’t ever happen again!”
SUGURU GETO
You know he doesn’t like leaving you alone where there are monkeys. You know he doesn’t like being left alone where there are monkeys. He’s a patient man, very patient, but only to a degree.
He moves pushes open the doors watching the initial crack to your face and then you start to fall. He’s there in an instant catching you, pulling you to him chest an arm wrapping around and hiding the offending man. He’s gently cupping your cheek offering such a sweet smile when the horrid sounds begin.
A sickening crunch, the scuttling of chitin against the floor and other surfaces, something like crunching into a juicy watermelon- the scream. Geto lifts you up, keeping an arm in way of your view of what was happening as he softly smiles asking, “My love, let’s just have Miguel or Larou make something hmm? Miguel just got an order in to make some ugali and beef wet fry. Then Larou is always looking to cook for us.”
You can see the blood starting to pool towards Geto’s feet, and a hand clawing at the tiles. The horrified shriek of the woman behind the counter as she runs into the back again, and the pained groans of the man. You felt sick to your stomach, your face hurts, but Geto still tried to hide the sight of his curses devouring the man.
You curl into his arms and he sighs rubbing your back kissing the top of your head, “There there, let’s get your face cleaned up hmm? Lover, I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
You both begin to move out, backs to the horror behind. You swallow, trying to calm yourself, you’ve seen the horror of being a sorcerer but still it gets you sometimes. Geto always is so sweet, you often forget that in the end he’s considered the worst jujustu terrorist for a reason…
KENTO NANAMI
He’s patient, calm, collected, and- okay he’s worried. Maybe he doesn’t show it often but he’s a bit clingy so when what should’ve been 5 minutes at most turned into a full 10 minutes he’s up.
He’s in that door looking like he’s not worried at all but the moment he sees you trying to catch yourself on the table after being hit? Another resounding CRACK with clattering echos in the restaurant. You jolt and jump up looking around just to see Nanami rolling his wrist and flexing his hand with a huff.
The guy who’d hit you, was now over the cashier counter knocked into the cups that were stacked by the coffee pots. Cups have fallen everywhere and he’s got a busted lip that’s already swollen and bruising hard. Nanami only has slightly red knuckles, he’s crouching, kneeling to you like a prince offering his hand, “Lover of mine, come here. We’re going to mine and I’m running you a bath. I’ll see if Shoko is available to heal you.”
You smile and take his hand, he’s pulling out a handkerchief and wiping at your face with such tenderness and concern. The guy behind the counter is fully knocked out, and girl working the register has no clue what to do other than sigh with defeat and grab a broom. Once standing Nanami takes out his wallet laying down a wad of bills apologizing, “sorry to have caused such a mess, I’m glad you’re alright miss.” With that you two leave.
TOJI FUSHIGURO
Toji is happy to wait in the car, have the hot food brought to him to be sat in his lap so he could snack on it as you drove them back to your place. Except, where were you, and where was the food? He wasn’t particularly paying attention to how long you’d taken but whatever.
He’s pulled down the mirror to pick at something in his teeth, when you open the door. “Heya babe, what took-“ he cuts himself off his brows pulling down when he sees the busted lip, the tears in your puffy eyes. He clicks his tongue and opens the door starting to get out, “one sec, be right back.”
His slippers slap against the pavement as he comes into the shop eyes lazily looking over the food scattered on the floor and the man who’d hit you talking off the ear of the girl behind the counter about how people can be so disrespectful these days to “culture”. He nods to himself looking about and walks slow to stand behind the guy, the girl’s eyes bugging out of her head seeing Toji and he gives her a charming smile. He leans forward putting a hand on the counter blocking on of the guys exits and starts to speak, “damn bud, you love hearin yourself talk huh? Hey sweetheart, this guy jus hit someone?”
The girl stutters while the guy turns around trying to shove Toji off and miserably failing. He’s just got his hands squeezing and shoving against Toji’s fat tits. Toji doesn’t even acknowledge him, still looking at the girl who finally nods.
“Aye atta girl, all I needed to know!” One swift motion, a crunch, a pathetic scream. You stare at the door hearing the scream only to see Toji walking out with a messy bag, he’s smiling at you so proud of himself. You sigh and start the car knowing you better get driving quick, he probably made that guy eat shit…
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#headcanon#goon dog#satoru gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#jjk geto#geto x reader#geto suguru#satoru gojo#kento nanami#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#takeout takedown
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