I Cannot Express How Down Bad I Am For Rob In Love Island Like I Need That Man NOWWW

Still not over the fact that under all his clothes, kimi looks like that.

ccccccooooryyooo 🫶🏻🫶🏻😵‍💫🎀🫶🏻😵‍💫🎀🎀😵‍💫😵‍💫 </3 coryo!!!!! my <3 coryo coryo 😭😭😭 coryo CORYO ! ! ! ! coryo coryo CORYYYOOO ! coryo <3 CCOOORRYYYYYOOOO <3 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚・ C O R Y O࿐🫶🏻🎀🎀🫶🏻🎀🫶🏻! ! ! coryyyooooooooo …. <3

oh.

ok but drug dealer lip jealous fucking shy!reader after she gets assigned tutoring a guy and didn’t tell him (manhandling her and all 🤭🤭)

the summer air hangs heavily in the dingy ice cream truck, and in efforts to be able to breathe, the door is cracked open an inch. however, it leaves an invitation to anyone searching for an extra gram, or for kevin, who should be returning soon from his recent trip to the dollar store. but that's not a thought when lip's hand nearly slips against your skull, your cheek pushed angrily against a sticky wall.

saccharine whimpers roll off your tongue when rough fingertips pinch and roll over your clit, and lip huffs hungrily between your pinched shoulder blades. "don't fuckin' move," he commands, releasing the pressure against your head to ease out his stirring cock from his tightening briefs.

you obey with another tepid mewl, nearly gasping when a thumb pushes into your weepy hole and massages roughly at your ribbed walls. "since when are you smart, huh?" he taunts, chin kissing his chest when he looks down to drop a globule of saliva onto his throbbing dick. "thought i figured out a way to make you stupid."

your eyes close, and you lick over your lips in anticipation. "it's just.. it looks good on my resume."

lip scoffs, legs bending in an awkward squat so he can gently ease the head of his cock between your trembling legs, and into your dewy cunt. "you don't need a resume. don't think i can take care of you, huh?"

you gasp wetly at the sudden intrusion, pussy tightening around his thick shaft. "just wanted t'help," you cry out, groaning when his hands find your pelvis so he can properly start up his abrasive rhythm.

his hips pound against your backside, and your head clunks slightly at the metal wall of the vehicle. his thumbs press bruises into the dimples of your back, and the man's not hesitant to start jackhammering up into your sweet cunt. "only thing you should be helping with is taking my cock, alright?" he hisses, removing a hand at your hip to resume its previous position against your skull. "quit fucking moving."

his dick presses rough kisses against your cervix with each rough thrust, and every once-existing thought is drifting away from your mind in the form of pert, desperate whines. "i'll cancel," you drawl between heavy breaths. "i'll cancel the meeting. promise i won't do it again."

lip's grin grows and he drops his rough facade to sear a kiss over your cheekbone. "atta girl. knew you'd learn. "

🥹🥹

hi, baby ✰ m. sturniolo

pairing: bf!matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: you wake up grumpy after a nap & matt knows exactly how to make you feel better

warnings: some swearing, not rlly anything else??

note: i’ve loved the sturniolo’s for SO LONG n i’ve always wanted to write for matt (the love of my entire life <3) so this is me testing the water hehe, lmk if u enjoy/want to see more!!

comments & reblogs are so appreciated! <3

✰ ✰ ✰

“oh my god she’s alive-”

with an intentionally audible sigh, you head towards matt on the couch - ignoring chris and nick in their entirety as you pass them in the kitchen.

matt smiles fondly as you approach; reaching for your hand when you’re close enough to touch. “hi, baby.” his voice is soft as he tugs you onto his lap - one hand immediately coming up to smooth your sleep tussled hair away from your face. the subconscious action forces a stubborn little grin onto your lips. “good nap?”

with another little sigh, much quieter than the first, you drop your head against matt’s shoulder. “mhmm. ‘m still tired though.” the words are muffled by the fabric of matt’s hoodie - your heavy eyes falling shut as he begins to smooth an absentminded trail up and down the length of your spine.

“do you want to get a coffee and go for a drive?” he offers - voice soft and fond as he looks down at you.

“really?”

“sure - i need to get gas anyways.”

“are you kidding me?” the sound of nick’s voice is unmistakable, and you bite back a little laugh as he speaks. “i literally just asked you to take me to target and you flat-out refused like four fucking times.”

with a roll of his eyes that you can almost feel, matt turns his head towards his brothers in the kitchen. “nick - that’s different and you know it.”

“different? how is it different, matt? because i actually don’t know and i would love for you to enlighten me.”

“because you’re not my fucking girlfriend, nick - jesus christ.”

“no, that’s true, but i am your brother - your triplet no less. does that mean nothing to you?”

“at the moment? no, it really doesn’t.” decidedly done with the conversation, matt turns his head back to you. “you ready to go?”

with a soft little laugh, you stretch up to press a lazy kiss against his jaw. “we should take nick to target.” you say quietly.

“i’ll take him tomorrow.” he says back, tilting your head up with two fingers so it’s level with his own. you can’t fight your silly little grin when he presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “i’ve barely seen you all day.”

“but i feel ba-”

matt kisses you again, effectively silencing your feeble attempt at a protest. “don’t feel bad.” he says, lips still brushing softly against yours as he speaks. “he doesn’t even need anything - the kid just wants to look around.” with a gentle pat to your thigh, he’s maneuvering the two of you into an upright position. “now c’mon - we’re going to starbucks.”

he’s so gorgeous

pretty nose ,,, curly hair ,,, big shoulders ,,,

i think about him all the time.

rafe leaves his car running, music still playing, when he comes to pick you up. he knocks on the door to your house twice, not even bothering to send you a message to come and get him since he knows you’re not on it—you’re probably applying the finishing touches to your makeup or spraying something over your styled hair. your mom gets the door, which is good—your dad isn’t always rafe’s biggest fan. he stays down there, engaging in polite small talk for a few minutes before going up the stairs to your bedroom. 

with his hand hovering above the doorknob, wondering how much time you still need and if the two of you are gonna miss your dinner reservations, he catches the sound of music blaring from your room. it’s not the usual stuff—the lana songs you play on repeat, claiming they’re rafe-coded or the oldies you listen to softly when you’re trying to relax. no, he can hear his music coming from your room, and more than that, he can hear you singing along. 

he stays like that, listening for a few more minutes, smiling to himself before turning the knob and stepping in. true to form, you’re applying another layer of shiny lip gloss, the sticky one that always makes a mess on his face and his dick.

“ak-forty to your livahhh- oh hi rafe!” you turn to great him, looking extra pleased as he comes over to your vanity and presses a kiss to your head while looking in the mirror with you.

“the hell are you listening to?” he laughs, but you can tell he’s holding back a laugh. “y’know i have the truck running, right?”

“smith and wesson…gang reppin-” you sing along again, before breaking into a fit of giggles. you finish applying your lip gloss and then set it down on the counter, adjusting your hair and humming along.

“am i a bad influence? is that what this is?” 

you turn to look up at him from your seat, pressing your hand against the collar of his polo and dragging him down into a kiss. he deepens it, wet and messy, swallowing your moan into his mouth and hand gripping the back of your neck, before he pulls you away. 

“you’re the worst influence. now my makeup is all messed up.” you turn back to the mirror, wiping the corners of your mouth and picking up your lip-liner.

“how long have you been recitin’ drake and 21?”

“you play it all the time!” you protest, half-heartedly. “it’s catchy. and it reminds me of you.” he smirks, taking a seat on your bed. 

“hurry it up or we’ll miss the reservation.” 

you roll your eyes.

“yes, dad.” you think he doesn’t notice, but he gets up from his seat and buries his head in your neck, gripping a tender piece of skin between his teeth and sucking hard. you feel it instantly, and uncomfortable wetness spreading in your panties and the familiar want tightening in your stomach. when rafe pulls away, there’s a bright, dark red mark on your neck

“rafe!” you whine, wiping the skin of his spit and observing in the mirror. your hand goes to grab the bottle of concealer already out, but he stops your wrist mid-movement. 

“nuh-uh, that’s what you get for talkin’ back.” he kisses your cheek. “now come on, i don’t wanna be late.” you comply immediately.

ever since you’d started working at dunder mifflin, you’d had a thing for jim.

maybe it was a competency thing. he was smart, like not just computer smart — but the way he spoke. it was always so witty, smooth, somehow managing to mask the fact you could tell he’d always been a dork with the fact he’s funny, attractive and tall.

you’d catch yourself staring at him from your reception desk. watching him sell paper to a customer on the phone, pushed out from his desk with long gangly limbs sticking out, stretched legs protruding from the smooth wooden workspace. he’d always catch you, and after a while you stopped minding — taking more than a second to tear your lustful gaze away as you’d twirl that pen with the pink fluffy lid round and round. jim would often blink unsurely like he wasn’t sure if he’d just hallucinated it, shaking himself out of it quickly before stumbling over his words and continuing his call. you enjoyed getting a reaction out of him.

because you were so sweet and shy, it took longer than necessary for the two of you to become a thing. it was only after he’d stood up for you to dwight after the tall farmer had been picking on you all day, that you’d made the brave move to kiss jim in the parking lot at the end of your shift. since then you’d only gotten more handsy.

“are you okay? got a real stare on you today. feel like you’re gonna laser me with your eyes.” jim banters as you stand beside him in the break room, watching his large hands punch in the numbers in the vending machine to the snack he wanted.

“just ovulating.” you sigh softly making him perform a subtle double take in your direction as he leans down to scoop up the snack that fell from the machine.

“you’re— oh! right. well that’s… great.”

“means i want you.” you pout, an impish and impatient furrow to your brow as you reach forward and cup the heavy bulge in his work pants making him instantly double over in surprise.

“wh— oh wow okay— hey, there are cameras everywhere. you do — you do remember that right?” he blinks at you urgently, removing your hands and you giggle giddily, enjoying winding jim up. he’s always sexier when he’s a little irritated anyway.

“jim.” you whine and he looks around with that worried frown before grabbing your hand and dragging you out the office to the direction of the warehouse.

“the warehouse?” you’re practically ecstatic. not only was he going along with your nympho attitude, but he wanted to fuck you somewhere so risky. it was so unlike him.

“no cameras and, it’s kinda what you deserve right now. can’t treat you respectfully if you don’t act it.” he shrugs a shoulder, taking advantage of the fact that all of the workers were on their break to guide you into a small nook right in the back. “this should be good enough.” he pats the walls enclosing you, not sturdy in the slightest and you’re instantly reaching for his belt.

you think he’s gonna be mean, but then again — it’s not really jim’s style, as irritated as he gets, he’s too vanilla to be mean at heart. the sandy haired man stops your grabby hands, pulling them gently to the side and giving you a faux-disapproving look, clucking his tongue and shaking his head as he closes in on you, beginning to work your skirt up to your waist.

“uh, i think you were the one that wanted something. ladies first.” he shovels his hand into your panties, cupping your heat as he leans in for a kiss but stops just infront of your lips so they’re grazing and your breath mingles. “you were sitting there at reception this wet?” he emphasises, pulling back half a centimetre to raise his eyebrows at you sympathetically and you nod, holding your breath. “sweetie!” he coos quietly, tilting his head like he’s about to slot his lips right up on yours, but they stay simply grazing eachother. “poor thing.” he teases, before the kiss commences, and those long fingers take a break from the keyboards to work on you instead.