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#honestly this is turning into an obsession...that i maybe already have
lcriedlastnight · 11 hours
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Hi can i pls request a lando x reader where he mentions in many interviews that he wants an army of kids and the camara always pans to other drivers teasing reader
ofc you can baby <33 thanks for helping me celebrate! here's that kiss i promised xoxo
requests are open!
852 words.
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it wasn't unknown that lando wanted kids. it's not like he went out of his way to to talk about having children either, he just went on half an hour tangents anytime an interviewer brought up the topic is all. you didn't find out just how many until you decided to ask him about it one night, not long after lando had gotten slandered on twitter for being 'obsessed' with having a mini version of himself running around.
"so.. you know how you've said you want kids?" you start, voice a little hesitant knowing he was a bit peeved about the bullying he was getting online for that very thing. if looks could kill you swear you would be a dead girl.
"don't you start." he groans, eyes rolling so hard to the of his head you thought they may get stuck.
lando, who had just gotten ready for bed, slips in beside you and you immediately know he's not actually pissed off at you because he is pulling your arm to get you as close to him as he physically could.
"i don't mean it like that, i just wanted to ask you about it." lando watches as you strain your neck up to be able to see his reaction from your very comfortable position on his chest. it does bring the smallest of smiles to his lips.
with a joking sigh he asks "what do you want to know?".
"well, i guess the most important one is-"
"if i want them with you?" lando interrupts, sending your brows into your hairline. you smack him on the back of the head and he just laughs like it was actually funny. dickhead.
"no! how many you want. but now i don't want any with you if they're going to turn out like you." you cross your arms over your chest, trying to convince him you actually were in a huff. a strong hand running down your front seconds after ruins your plans for any further annoyance though.
lando hums in thought before he answers your question. his hand now drawing random shapes on your hip bone.
"you're going to hate me when i say this, but i only really wanted a few maybe two max? but being with you? i want minimum four."
your gasp makes him wince. you're shocked, there is no way he is actually being serious. you tell him as much but he shakes his head and assures you just how serious he is.
"honestly baby. i want a big family with you."
his words may or may not rile you and you guys maybe get started on that big family that night, but you don't kiss and tell..
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
lando wasn't to hold back on his thoughts or feelings and with his rants about wanting to start a family were proof of this, well you had thought so. the next time you're at the paddock is the next time he's asked about starting a family. you're watching from the side with max and oscar as he gets interviewed and you can see the say his whole face lights up at the question, as if racing was a chore he was getting forced to do every few weekends and not the second favourite part of his life.
lando takes a quick glance in your direction before he starts and it's like your conversation on the topic opened the floodgates in lando's mind as he reveals his every thought on having a baby or two or ten.
"me and my girlfriend were talking about this and it made me realise i want a full on norris army of children behind me. i want minimum four with my girl. ideally two of each but wouldn't even complain if all i had was girls because then that means that there would be so much more of my girl out there in the world, and little parts of me i guess too." lando's smile is splitting and the interviewer smiles back at him, loving seeing him being so open and honest about it.
"would you encourage your little ones to get involved in karting and racing?" she enquires. you can already picture taking your imaginary children along to watch lando in his races. it does make your heart skip a beat or two.
as the interview continues, unbeknown to you and the other two drivers who are making kissy faces at pretending to cradle a child in their arms just to tease you and how much lando was infatuated with the idea of kids with you, the camera pans in your direction to get a nice reaction shot to your boyfriend's words.
all they capture is your bright red face, from the teasing and lando blunt words, and the boys childish behaviour.
that night is then filled with lando teasing (and comforting) you as it was now your turn to get teased on twitter, millions of fans already making your reaction a meme. you knew you'd never live it down and a small part of you was excited to explain the video and reaction picture to those future kids.
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Heyo!!!!✨️✨️✨️
You write Hero x Villain so well and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a Hero that was kidnapped by the Villain, and Hero is expecting harsh treatment, but they instead wake up in a lavish bedroom, restrained to the bed of course but it's a very nice bed. It turns out Hero had been overworking themselves and Villain was worried about them and had had enough. Maybe Hero tries to argue that they haven't been overworking and Villain goes ballistic.
It was a joke.
It had to be.
The hero looked at the handcuffs (which were their own) and then back at the villain.
"You're kidding." The hero was seldom in the mood for jokes. Most of the time, they didn't understand the references their friends made or ended up explaining jokes which people - apparently - did not like. It was quite hard for them to find anything funny. A cat was funny. A sound could be funny.
But a practical joke? Not so much.
"Honestly, I wish I was. Do you know how heavy you are? I would have never dragged you up here for a joke," the villain said. They were sitting on a luxuriant chair across the room, one thigh on the other. Their foot was dangling in the air happily and they looked well rested as they drank from a coffee cup.
"What time is it?"
"It's ten in the morning." The hero smiled to themselves. "On a Monday."
"What? No. Shit. Shit. Fuck-" The hero was already late to work. They were always 30 minutes early. They couldn't be late. They started struggling against the restraints, tossed and turned, tried to pull and free themselves. But it didn't work, no matter how much forced they conjured.
In the end, their wrists were sore, nothing more.
"Relax," the villain purred. "For some strange reason - which I am not associated with - your workplace has been shut down. Water damage."
"What did you-?"
"Purely coincidental," the villain lied. They shrugged and finished their coffee, setting the cup down on the tiny table next to them. They stood up and once they were in front of the villain, they leaned over them. "You look very good in my bed, by the way."
"Am I your hostage? Is that it?" the hero asked.
"Hostage? My god, do you know how much planning and energy that requires? Too much work, really." The villain tapped the tip of the hero's nose with their index finger. "My love, do you remember when I broke your leg a while ago?"
"Still hurts like shit when I work out."
"Hm." The villain almost looked like they were sorry. "Well...that was a rather harsh method, I have to admit. But a very effective one. Until you started working again, harder this time. I didn't see that coming."
The hero stared at the villain. Initially, they had thought the villain would understand what it was like to sacrifice themselves for their beliefs. The hero was, in many forms, very dedicated to both their jobs. The one in the office and the one outside of it as a hero. No task was too much, no overtime was too long.
Of course, the hero heard the whispers about themselves, they heard how their family made fun of them for working long hours and how they judged them for never finding time to meet up. After a while, the hero had stopped getting into arguments with their parents. You wanted me to have a steady job or my work is important to me were not good enough explanations for them. So, the hero had given up on that.
But they had genuinely thought the villain would know what that felt like. To be invested, to be motivated.
"Is being determined such a crime?"
"Determination and obsession are two different things, my love," the villain said.
"What do you care anyway?" the hero hissed. They were sick of people getting into their business and telling them how to live their life. It was more than exhausting.
The villain was quiet. They studied the hero's face and eventually sat down on the edge of the bed. Their lower back was touching the hero's side.
The hero did not pull away.
"Your hand has been shaking for two weeks now," the villain said. "Do you think I am willing to fight a weak enemy? That is below me. My equal is supposed to match me in combat. Not only attractiveness."
The hero didn't say anything to that right away. They knew they had had...struggled with fighting these past few weeks. But they had not wanted it to be due to their work. It was clearly a coincidence. Some harmless infection or illness.
"Listen...I am fine. I have a good job and I have a duty to fulfill."
"When you go home after work, do you feel like you have accomplished anything?" the villain asked and the hero, despite how sure they were of themselves and their work ethic, knew that the villain was digging into a wound with dirty fingers here.
Because, no, the hero did not feel satisfied, they barely felt relieved.
"Do you feel happy?" The villain's eyes were boring into the hero's. Curious, brilliant eyes.
The villain was quite provocative but this was right out a punch to the gut.
"You are asking unfair questions."
"You don't like them because the answer hurts. You are miserable. What you are doing right now is devouring you. And once that is done, what am I left with? Another one of those broken heroes who dies in their twenties because it's all too much?"
The hero looked at them, tears burning in their eyes. It was their job. It was their chance to prove themselves.
The hero was worth something. They were useful, they were smart. They were good at work. What would be left for them if that was being taken away?
What was the hero without it, anyway?
"Right now," they said, "I dislike you very much."
"Our relationship goes beyond simple fights," the villain explained. They let their fingertips dance over the hero's throat, even let their hand cup it carefully. Goosebumps spread all over the hero's back. The villain could have choked them anytime. But they didn't. "It's a vicious cycle. You and I. We cannot escape. And that is your duty. That is your priority. The objective which demands all your attention. Stopping me is a lot of work and you need to focus on that. If I get too powerful, you know what happens. I want power. I want power over you, over the city."
"So instead of working the usual way, you want me to work because of you?" The hero was quick to blink the tears out of their eyes.
This was simply ludicrous. The villain was wrong. They were lying, manipulating.
"No. I want your attention, I want your dedication. The healthy amount." The villain leaned over them, their lips brushing the hero's ear. "I can be nastier if I want. Right now I could break any bones of yours to force you to rest."
Their fingers glided up the hero's forearm until they found the hero's hand. The villain took it.
"But I saw how much pain that caused. And how disappointing the results were. So. Last chance, my love. Tune it down. Or all of us will suffer."
They pressed a kiss to the hero's temple.
However, the villain had to kidnap the hero three more times until the hero decided to start taking care of themselves.
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realmsalot · 2 days
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I've been obsessed with Relativity Falls au for some reason lately so of course I've been turning around my own version in my head lately. And with Fiddleford I keep flip flopping on who I would switch him because there are many good options. Like
Fiddleford <> Pacifica:
This seems to be the most popular option, I've seen many old woman Pacifica designs, but I personally cannot see McGucket be the snotty rich kid that Pacifica was at the start. I CAN see how he could be rich (Tate McGucket probably invented something and got a lot of money for it) but CAN'T see him be anyway snotty about it. I think the best way to make Fiddleford fit this role is through a series of misunderstandings. He is trying SO HARD to be nice to these twin brothers who are spending their summer in Gravity Falls and he just keeps messing up. He tries to make a robot to help them out but it end up turning evil and they assume that it was ment to sabotage them from the start. He tries to have a nice conversation with them but because he's rich he's just out touch enough to come off rude and show offy. FIDDS IS TRYING TO BE NICE FROM THE START!
Fiddleford <> Candy
It is easily the second most popular option here. There really isn't much to say with this one it's probably the one that makes the most sense. I can easily see Candy going to Backupsmore and telling Dipper/Mabel about the weird things shes seen in Gravity Falls. The idea that Stanley and Fidds became friends first before Ford and Fidds is interesting. My main grip with it is that if we're going with the version where Dipper is swapped with Ford, it implies that Mable and Candy never really became friends in this universe, which I find really sad. Honestly I think that the main reason this swap exists in that context is because of that one episode were they go on a road trip and Candy got crush on Dipper mixed with fact that many people ship FiddleAuthor.
Fiddleford <> Soos
Hear me out, hear me OUT! I've seen a few versions where even when Soos' Grandma is swapped with Soos, they also add Fidds as a handyman at the Shack anyways. But why not go the whole way, ya'know? Soos was a friend that Dipper met and shared a dorm with in Backupsmore. Soos was still older than Dipper. Soos and Melody were already married with a kid on the way, and Soos was also Gravity Falls' local handyman. He decided to get college and get like a mechanical engineering degree or maybe a trade in something there because even in the small town of Gravity Falls technology was only getting more and more complicated and Soos wanted to be able to keep up so he can keep making money for his family by fixing things. During their time at Backupsmore, Soos would tell Dipper about some of the crazy things he's seen living in Gravity Falls, and that inspires Dipper to go study it after college. And then the rest of that rolls out predictably. I can easily (and sadly) see Soos becoming the local kook. I imagine that it will also be much sadder for the locals to see Soos acting up because many of them have memories of him coming to fix their microwaves and stuff. And as for Fidds, he's the Mystery Shack's handyman. You can make him around the same age as the Stan twins, we know that in cannon that Soos started working there around that age, so he doesn't have to be Soos' cannon age. I think this works best with Dipper and Ford switching places because in cannon Dipper and Soos were friends, so it kinda easily transfers, ya'know. I've put a lot in this one.
And uh yeah that's my incoherent ramblings...
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joethehoeee · 2 years
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Remember that one time Strickler wore a hat?
...
Cause I certainly do-
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Our confused avocado man-
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pls-
Why does he look so good and cute in it?
I NEED FANART! omg... Troll Strickler with a hat. And ofc human
.....
Ohh and two pictures that i found hilarius. The way he looks-
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And sorry for the bad quality, i couldn’t find better clips :,(
But yeah i know this is random but maybe someone enjoys those pictures as much as i do. I just chill on my couch and then i thought 'wait. Wasn’t there one episode where Strickler wears a head?' And look i remembered-
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gremlingottoosilly · 11 months
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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)
Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3
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“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 
You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 
You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 
So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 
— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 
He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 
— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 
— Ah…your father is at home? 
You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 
— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 
— You didn’t tell him about me? 
Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 
— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…
An apathetic dad, huh. 
You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 
— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 
He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 
You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 
*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 
König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 
With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 
Scheisse
Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…
The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 
You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 
— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 
You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 
You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 
— Ja. You can have it. 
He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 
— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 
You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 
Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 
— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 
You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 
He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 
— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 
— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 
You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 
— What do you mean by this, sir? 
You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 
Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 
He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 
The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 
König is. 
— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 
You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 
Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 
König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 
Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 
— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 
“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 
You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 
König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 
God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 
He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 
You look like a good candidate. 
— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 
He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 
— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 
You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 
— You want to see the bedroom then?
Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 
— Sir, this is very…
He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 
— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.
You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 
Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 
— I don’t want to break his heart. 
— He doesn’t have one. 
You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…
God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 
Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 
You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 
— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 
“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 
You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 
König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 
— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 
He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 
He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 
He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 
— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 
— N…not a whore, please…
He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 
— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…
— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…
— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.
He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 
It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 
It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…
You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 
Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 
König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 
So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 
— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 
— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 
— I’ll tell him. 
— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 
— I need to return to my dorm. 
— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 
He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 
He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 
Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 
— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 
— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 
You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
rooomate james. 😭😭 literally obsessed w himm!!
Me too I love him (and you!) sm <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 808 words
You don’t recognize James’ car until he shouts at you. 
“Hey!” 
You give a little jump, turning midair to find James smiling out the rolled-down window. 
“Want a lift?” 
“God, you scared me!” You backtrack and open the passenger door. The seat looks to have been tidied in a hurry, receipts and takeaway containers tossed into the backseat. “How’d you even know I’d need a ride?” 
James refrains from responding to give you an expectant look. You roll your eyes and buckle your seatbelt. Satisfied, he puts the car in reverse, setting his hand on your seat to look behind him as he backs out of the parking spot. 
“You weren’t home when I got there,” he says, “and then I remembered on Sundays you usually get off at eleven, so here I am. Is Art not with you?” 
“No, he wasn’t working tonight.” 
James doesn’t seem too disappointed by this. He pulls onto the street. You watch him, looking almost unconsciously for signs of wear and tear. 
Now that rugby season is in full swing, he’s gone not just during the day for training but sometimes overnight for away games. You’ve been alone in your apartment for the whole weekend while he played in London and then Bristol. It was weird. You think you’ve accidentally grown used to having James around. You don’t fancy yourself a very tactile person, and the urge to hug him isn’t terribly strong, but it’s there. 
“How was work?” he asks you. 
“It was fine. How were your matches?” 
“They were fine,” he imitates you, grinning. “No, it’s like I said. Winning the second one’s always better than winning the first and losing the second. It’s nice to end on a good note.”
He’d texted continual updates while he was gone. You sat on your couch, pretending to yourself or perhaps to some invisible, judgemental observer that you were watching TV when really you were entirely focused on James’ texts. You imagined him sitting in his hotel room doing the same, or maybe in a pub with his teammates, smiling at his phone each time you responded. 
Your imagination has become terribly overindulgent lately. 
“Honestly, I was pretty disappointed you weren’t home when I got there,” James says, a familiar teasing lilt to his voice. “I was hoping to come in and catch you wearing one of my jumpers and staring tearily at a framed photo of me.” 
You roll your eyes, but your face burns. You did use his shampoo, once. In your defense, you’d run out of yours, but you thought that it wouldn’t be so bad to smell like him, nice and fresh and comforting. It had foamed more than you expected. It did smell really nice, but it made your hair feel dry (boy shampoo always does that, you’ve no idea how James’ curls seem to thrive under such poor treatment) and you felt silly about it for days, lovesick in the most derogatory sense. 
Didn’t stop you from sniffing your hair occasionally, though. 
“You weren’t gone to war,” you reply. “And where would I get a framed photo of you?” 
James looks affronted. “I assumed you already had one. How did you get through the weekend without even a photo? You brave, brave girl.” 
“I actually threw a rager,” you deadpan. “Rented out your room to six people traveling through with the carnival and let them invite over all their friends. Did loads of hard drugs.” 
“Well, we all have different ways of coping.” He reaches over to squeeze your shoulder consolingly. You pretend goosebumps don’t skitter all the way down your arm from the brief touch. “And what a marvelous job you’ve done covering up your escapades!” He exclaims as you pull up in front of the apartment. “I haven’t come across the cocaine dust on our bathroom counter yet, so you must have really done a thorough cleanup.” 
“Keep looking, it’s around there somewhere.” 
James laughs. You’re slower getting out of the car than he is, and by the time you emerge he’s in front of you, pulling you into a hug. You think your bones liquefy. He’s warm and strong and he smells like his shampoo, both arms squishing you heartily before he lets go with a little laugh. 
“Sorry,” he says, bringing his hands to your upper arms, “I didn’t even ask. I just missed you, you know?” James has this look on his face, smile brilliant and eyes wide open. So saccharine sweet you almost can’t look at him. “Guess I got used to having you around.” 
You do your best to smile back. “Yeah, me too.” 
He squeezes your arms before turning to go inside. “You smell like Italian food, too. I don’t suppose you’ve cooked anything recently that’s still in the fridge? I’m beginning to think about second dinner.” 
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eddiethebrave · 1 month
Text
secret admirer part six
602 words
one two three four five
Steve is a horrible artist. “I suck.” He slumps in his seat. 
Carol places her paintbrush into the cup of water between them and leans over to see his paper. “...Nooo this is good,” she says, but Steve can clearly see the way her mouth twists as if she’s holding in a laugh. It’s a great show of restraint for her. He’s actually kinda impressed.
Steve pushes her away gently and turns his easel so she can’t see anymore. She cackles. 
Steve huffs and studies his painting. It was supposed to be a dog but looks more like a frankly unsettling misshapen creature. He shivers and paints over the things creepy ass eyes that were previously staring into his soul.  
“Aw. I liked it better before.” 
Steve jumps, dropping his brush - that was loaded with black paint - into his lap. He’s never been happier that their art teacher makes them wear aprons - these are his favorite jeans. He puts the brush in the water cup. 
The voice snickers and Steve finally turns, heart racing. He already knows who it is before he meets the big brown eyes. Eddie has sat to his left since the beginning of this semester (which is also when Steve began to develop this little obsession but who’s counting). 
He didn’t take into account that turning his painting away from Carol would put it right into Eddie’s line of sight. 
Steve raises a brow. “You’re joking, right?”
Eddie grins and drops his chair back to the ground as opposed to balancing on the back two legs. He turns his easel enough that Steve can see his painting. It’s just as, if not more, disturbing than his little dog creature thing. Steve’s not quite sure what it is, but it looks slimy.
“Dude, gross,” Steve says, but he’s smiling. 
That night, Tommy gets into an argument with Carol and calls Steve to complain about it. She wanted to know why all he ever wants to do is hook up and honestly, Steve was kinda wondering the same thing. 
All Tommy wants to talk about these days is them hooking up or asking Steve if he’s hooking up with anyone (don’t be a prude, man, tell me what happened) no matter how many times Steve tells him he’s just focusing on school right now. 
A lie, he’s focused alright, but it sure as hell isn’t on school.
He didn’t tell Tommy any of that, though. Instead, he offered up his house for the weekend. Tommy’s always in a better mood when he has a party to look forward to. The boy had immediately perked up. 
Steve's kinda regretting it the next day, but he made his bed.
Eddie i like seeing you, it makes my day the disappearing act was real cute almost made me lose my damn mind, man, point taken do you got anything good planned for the weekend? i heard there’s a party  maybe i’ll see you there, with your new job and all p.s. have fun at your campaign (i learned what it’s called!)  -H 
Steve slips his sunglasses on during his walk to the cafeteria, and no it’s not just because he wants to stare freely at Eddie - he has a headache. Looking at Eddie is just a perk. 
He’s wearing a white shirt again. Steve has the freedom to look so much that his gaze strays to the other people at Eddie’s table and notices that they’re all wearing matching white shirts with the same print on the front. They printed matching shirts for their nerd club. 
Steve is gonna die.
seven (just realized I forgot to add this link for a whole day😭 sorry y'all)
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sorry if i missed anyone!!
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pearlzier · 2 months
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────⠀ ⠀nerd!matt x meangirl!reader hcs 'n' stuff
☆ currently obsessed with meangirl!reader i love her. this is very inspired by @tiny_tobasco on tiktok's 'mean' girls girl series shes so meangirl!reader and i got inspired so hard. sfw n nsfw under the cut
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🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ you two only met properly, before all of the tutoring sessions, when at some party. matt didn't actually know how he got there, well, he did, chris had dragged him there. however, he didn't know why he'd decided to stay. he regrets it especially when some frat guys start making fun of him. he's not completely helpless, he stands his ground, but there's a lot of them and chris is nowhere in sight
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ he's absolutely shitting himself when he sees you come over—assuming you're going to laugh at him with the frat guys. doesn't stop the huge crush he has on you however. the look of your glossy, plump lips tugged into a frown as you walk over, your heels clicking against the floor and the way your little dress clings to the swell of your tits. honestly, he kinda forgets about the insults 'till he snaps back into things.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "can you guys shut the fuck up, jesus christ," he's surprised at the fact you're not talking to him, but at them. his eyes drop to your arms folded under your chest before your face. "like, get over yourselves. your little boner party is like, not it. leave him alone, god,"
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ your habit of saying 'like' in every sentence never really went away, but he liked it. it was so you. you talked, a lot, hence the amount of filler words you needed. he's surprised you haven't even started debate club because you'd absolutely win every debate.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ matt's surprised by how flustered the guys get, at how much power you have over them. but honestly, if you spoke to him like that, he'd get completely flustered too. he already is, the stern tone in your voice making his dick stir in his pants. he's mid adjust when you turn to him, and he blinks, getting flustered himself. damn it. "thanks—"
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "i didn't know you," you're chewing bubble gum, head cocking to the side a little as your eyes rake over him. "but i do now," you pop, obnoxiously to anyone else but endearing to him, "so hi." he's smitten. "you're staring."
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "sorry," he apologises immediately, not wanting you to think he's a creep or anything. you blink, not saying much, before you laugh, "it's okay. people do it a lot." yeah, he's sure they do. "like, yeah. um. you want a drink?" you, you, offering him a drink. holy shit, he needs to take a lap.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ he didn't think you guys would talk after that. but, somehow, you did. it was a little indirect at first since it came through chris, but he basically talked to you, right? he was in his dorm room, when chris bursts in, stood at the door. "dude, knocking? it's a thing? read about it?" chris doesn't pay much attention to his brother's words, not really. "don't wanna hear about your hypotheses, but okay." matt rolls his eyes. but when chris mentions your name, his interest is piqued almost immediately.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "me? she was talking about me?" he's shitting himself. chris doesn't seem all that fussed, as he continues, "uh, yeah, she wanted you to tutor her or something," matt deflates a tiny bit, since maybe that meant you just wanted to get your grades up and didn't really wanna be his friend, or something more. but he thinks back to the night you two met and how much fun you two had, so he's down to see what happens.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ little did he know he literally would never get rid of you after that. he's literally stuck with you forever now
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ everyone thinks you're a total bitch (you lowkey are, but only when it calls for it) but matt sees you for more. honestly he feels the only reason people think you're mean at first glance is your resting bitch face, bluntness and inability to hold conversation. like—you're an absolute sweetheart sometimes and no one but matt, and by proxy his friends, know that.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ he's just. used to you by now. if he wakes up in the middle of the night and feels you beside him he's gonna assume you're back from a night out and just forgot where your dorm is. matt just draws you in and rests his head against your chest, not thinking twice about it. similarly, if he wakes up and you're in the kitchen for god knows what reason, he just wanders out and stands there for a minute. "girl dinner," you tell him, and he just nods, padding back to the bed.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ matt's also used to being dragged to your little brunches with your girls. he's just there because you asked him to be, he hasn't really got any business being there.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "baby! her bestfriend got with her ex," you tell him, as he's scrolling through his phone sat beside you at the table.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "cut her off, bad friend," he says, without looking up from his phone. you nod in agreement with him, a soft, "mhm," coming from your lips before you and your friend continue with the conversation.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ you're a really attentive listener, contrary to what many may think. you stare blankly at matt the entire time he's rambling about a new game that came out, and he thinks you're not interested, so he stops. the moment he does, you speak up, "no, continue," he hesitates before he does, and when he sees the faint shift in your expression, a softening, he gets back into it
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ matt's always proud of you like after he started tutoring you your grades went up by a lot and he eventually realised he didn't need to tutor you anymore. and then he realised you didn't need tutoring a while back and just acted like you didn't know some things on purpose so he'd hang out with you. he really needed to give you more credit for that one.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ GOSSIPING. matt loves to chat shit with you !!!! he's had all these opinions and thoughts he's kept to himself this entire time about the meathead frat boys you hung out with sometimes and the vapid sorority girls you were friends with and he finally gets to share them with someone. he knows you'll never tell anyone, plus, you agree with everything he says anyway. "yeah, she actually hates him. she's with him for a bet."
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "a bet???" he's stunned, mouth agape. "yup," you nod, continuing with doing your makeup as you shrug, "and he's with her on a bet too, so like," he's learnt SO much shit about what goes on because of you <3
NSᅟᅟ꒰͡ ‎ ‎⭒۫ ‎ ‎ִ ‎ ‎͡꒱ᅟᅟFW
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ you were definitely his first for everything—which he's glad for. he knew things, of course, he's not helpless, he had just never done it before. you taught him things, helped explain that porn isn't even that accurate, and made sure he was confident in everything. he felt this bitter pang in his chest when hearing about the fact you'd kissed people before, he hates the idea of with anyone else however you quickly make him feel better
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ matt LOVES your titties like a lot. he's always been looking at them before, he knows, watching how your pretty clothes cling to your chest. or even your push up bras making it more obvious. but the moment he got to actually see them properly and even touch them, he melted almost immediately. you're so pretty, fuck, they're so soft and he could melt everytime he gets his hands on you
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "what if you suffocate?" you ask, as he's mid boob smothering, resting his head against your chest. "fine with me," he mumbles, breath hot against your soft skin as he sighs into you. you shrug, running your fingers through his dark hair
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ started out as nervous and anxious but slowly grew into the whole sex thing. he's more confident in himself now, taking the lead a little bit more.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ loves watching his dick slide in and out of your wet hole, the pretty sounds that escape you and the pretty sounds of your pussy with each thrust of his hips. you look so good like this, on the bed beneath him. the way your tits bounce with each cant of his hips. "you look so pretty, oh my god, so, so pretty, fuck, shit, oh,"
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ matt's a rambler when he fucks you, unable to stay quiet. he makes the sweetest sounds, whimpering, whining and moaning at the feel of your tight heat around his cock and he sure as hell praises you like crazy. you're so, so damn gorgeous and he's so amazed that he even gets to have you like this
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ despite how confident he's grown, you can always get him to melt into a mess by just a little bit of teasing. "please, plea—please, oh my god, wanna.. i've been good, promise.." he hiccups his words out softly, eyes falling down to your hand pumping his cock rapidly. "i know, baby, i know. doing so good for me, wanna come? you're gonna come for me?" he doesn't even care how condescending you're being, he just wants to be good for you, and to feel good himself.
🌸 ⤸﹒✧﹒ "gonna come for you," he pants shakily, feeling that familar heat coil in his lower tummy as he grasps tightly at the bed beneath him. he feels his thighs trembling and shaky till he finally comes, white ropes of cum spurting from his tip and coating his stomach. he whines shakily, grasping at your thighs almost immediately to draw you in closer and press his lips to yours, whimpering shakily against your mouth.
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────⠀ ⠀ @stevelacylovebot, @gloomy-ghoulz, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @pkfferoo, @arixsturns, @blue-d, @cxokanna444, @deanscrush, @rvdhoods-wp
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unearthly-doting · 3 months
Text
yandere farmer
a/n: smth smth i Really like people w southern accents smth smth so here's a farmer. im not 100% satisfied w this one but it's been in my drafts for so long so here it is.
warnings: mdni, not proofread, yandere content, gn reader, male yandere, idk how cars work so, overprotective behavior, obsessive behavior, reader has hair in this sorry if u dont, murder, brief mention of vomit, non-con kissing, mild depictions of gore, choking, i think that's it??
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— maybe it's a bit cliché but life in the big city was exhausting, and all you wanted to do was get away from it all. it was a bit sudden, deciding you wanted to uproot your entire life and start somewhere new, but you knew that this is exactly what you needed.
— and it's not as if you weren't going into this blind. a friend of yours had a family vacation home in a small farm town that hadn't been used in years, and they were willing to let you stay there until you could find a place of your own.
— you had everything planned out. you had enough money on you for gas and food for the drive there, and you had already had some of your stuff shipped off to your new temporary home, so you didn't have to worry about leaving anything behind. you even kept a little extra money on you in case you needed to crash at a motel.
— the drive had started off fine. traffic wasn't too bad as you left the city, and there were no major setbacks until you were almost at your destination. when you were 20 miles out from the farmer town you'd be living in, your car just suddenly died on you. it still had gas in the tank, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the car itself, it just… died.
— what's worse is the fact that your phone had no service. you suppose that's not too shocking, considering how far out in the country you are, but it's a bit shocking, isn't it? you're not that educated on farming life or this small town, but surely they had modern technology, right?
— it's cliché, honestly. it felt like the start of some cheap slasher. or maybe a southern christmas romance movie. you're not quite sure which would be worse. the slasher, realistically. whatever, you're getting off track.
— the point is, your car is dead, your phone is useless, and it's starting to get dark. you could probably make it to that motel you saw a few miles back, but you didn't really feel comfortable leaving your car out here alone. not to mention you're not even sure if you have enough money on you to cover one night at a motel.
— the universe, in all her mercy, takes pity on you before you can get too upset over your plight, because not even 20 minutes after your car stops, a truck drives by. it's beat up, but it slows to a stop next to your car. the window rolls down, revealing the driver to be a man just a little older than you.
— he asked if you needed help, and offered to tow your car and drive you to town. you didn't have much choice but to agree, and the drive to town was… not as awkward as you thought it would be, actually.
— the man introduced himself as rigby shaw, a farmer that lives on the outskirts of town. you actually drove by his farm maybe 15 miles back, and he had been heading into town to pick up some medication for one of his dogs when he saw you pacing outside your car. in turn, you told him how you were moving into the small town because life in the city had been overwhelming.
— rigby didn't think you'd survive long outside of the city. city folk rarely ever strive in small, out of touch towns, away from modern technology. the small handful that made their way here always went back to the city not even three months into being here, so he didn't expect to see you last long either. you were nicer than most city folk, though.
— but you were determined to make a living out here, so when rigby dropped you off, you got to work immediately. you unpacked your stuff that had been there waiting for you, and in the morning, you got to work trying to fix your car. turns out, your fan belt had somehow come loose just enough that your car could no longer function. why? who knows, maybe the universe was in a silly mood.
— anyways, you settled into the small town life with relative ease, and rigby was very surprised when he returned to town a few weeks later, you were still there. the only thing you were struggling with was finding a job. maybe because he was fascinated by your determination, but rigby ended up offering you a job on his farm. he did need help taking care of the crops and feeding the animals there, but he mostly just wanted to learn more about you.
— you were a fast learner, and his dogs took to you fairly quickly. the cattle and horses were a little less trusting, though that was expected. he's sure they'll take to you soon enough, given how you respect their boundaries and go at their pace unlike his previous farmhands. you had no problem taking on any challenge rigby had set up for you, and maybe that's when he started finding himself thinking about you.
— if he's out in town while you're on the farm, he's worrying that you might get injured without him around. you can take care of yourself, but he can't help but worry. same for when you're in town while he's on the farm. you’re still an outsider there, and he knows that some of the townsfolk may try scaring you off. or maybe they'll try hurting you. or maybe you'll be completely fine and he's just overreacting.
— he starts hovering around you more often when you're on his farm, jumping in to help you whenever he thinks you might be struggling with something. you think he's just worried you might fuck his crops up or something, so you never really pay much mind to his behavior. it only struck you as odd when he insisted on helping you feed the dogs of all things. was he scared you would poison them? you wouldn't, obviously, so you don't know why he'd think that.
— his behavior only seems to escalate when you meet a guy in town one day and start going on casual dates with him. he was… shocked, when you asked to take the day off because of some guy. in the months that you've been living in town, you had never shown any interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with… anyone, truly. you had always seemed so dedicated to working on the farm and making a living for yourself, rigby had never even considered you could want anything other than that.
— at first, he felt disappointed. why would you prioritize dates with some guy when you could be working on the farm with him instead? it took him a bit to realize that disappointment he was feeling was jealousy. he hated when you'd step away from him to accept calls from your new boyfriend. he hated how you stopped eating lunch with him in favor of eating it with your boyfriend.
— your boyfriend wasn't even that great of a guy. rigby did some research on him–it's not stalking, he's just making sure it's safe for you to date this guy!–and he was not pleased with what he found. you could do so much better! you didn't understand why rigby was so interested in your boyfriend, always asking questions about how he treats you, if he's really what you're looking for in a relationship, if you actually loved him…
— you couldn't help but notice how touchy rigby has become as well, his hands always lingering on you far too long when he helps you with your work. you swear that you've heard him smell your hair a few times when he's close as well. he's been acting weird ever since you officially started dating your boyfriend. he's even going as far as to pile more work on top of you, leaving little free time for you to spend with your lover.
— it's gotten unbearable to the point where you decided you ultimately needed to find a new place to work. you liked rigby, he was a great guy with a kind heart, but his behavior was bordering on obsession and you didn't want to enable this behavior by ignoring it. your boyfriend agreed, and with his help, you were able to find a job at the local market in town.
— rigby was not pleased when he heard you on the phone with your lover, talking about how you'd tell him you were quitting after you finished work.
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You're not really sure what happened. One moment, you were on the phone with your boyfriend and then the next, you were being hit in the head and everything had gone dark. The sun had only just started setting when you had been knocked out, but it was completely dark outside when you had woken up.
Your head was pounding as you opened your eyes, looking around in an attempt to figure out what the hell had happened to you. You were still on the farm, that much you knew. The first thing that worried you was the fact that your hands were bound to a wooden post, leaving you unable to move without injuring yourself. Your phone was broken on the ground, so it was completely useless.
Did a trespasser knock you out? It's not the first person people have trespassed on the farm, trying to steal the horses or ‘save’ the animals Rigby had. You had assumed that to be the case, because… what else could have happened for you to be tied up like this?
“Rigby?!” You shout his name, wincing at the throbbing in your head as you did so. Was he okay? Was he hurt? What if something happened to him? What if–
Your panicked thoughts get put on pause when a light blinded you, and you shied away from it as best as you could as you tried to figure out its source. It seemed to be a flashlight, and you only realized who was holding it when they got closer.
For a moment, you relaxed at the sight of Rigby, relieved to see he was okay as he approached, though there was something off about him. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't seem injured, yet there was blood on his hands. Or maybe it was the… borderline crazed look in his eyes.
Something wasn't right.
“Rigby…?” You hesitantly called his name, your relief bleeding away into a reluctant unease, “Are you okay? What happened? Why am I tied up?”
His silence did little to help you as he set his flashlight down on the ground and started undoing your binds. Your wrists felt raw as you gently rubbed them once they were free, standing up while Rigby retrieved his flashlight.
“Rigby, what the hell is going on?” You ask, growing frustrated at being left in the dark. You had been knocked out and tied up, so you think you deserve some sort of explanation as to what had happened.
“I have a gift for you.” Rigby says, completely dodging your question as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you after him. His grip was tight, almost bruising as he dragged you along, ignoring you when you asked him to loosen his grip on you. He refused to answer any of your questions, and you were starting to get worried.
You've never been scared of Rigby. Sure, his behavior lately had been concerning, but you had no reason to be scared. But right now, you couldn't help but feel a bit afraid as he led you in the dark. Your concern only grew when you realized he was taking you to the barn the pigs were kept in.
“Will you just tell me what's going on?” Your words fall upon deaf ears as he passes the flashlight to you, motioning for you to take the lead as he opens the barn doors. You hesitate before shining the flashlight in the barn, slowly stepping forward.
Most of the pigs were sleeping in their own separate stalls, a few were watching you and Rigby with indifference as you both stepped deeper into the barn. But two things stood out to you. One, a handful of pigs were nowhere to be seen. Two, there was this weird… squelching sound coming from the back of the barn.
“It's just back there.” Rigby says, his breath hitting the back of your neck and causing you to jump. You hadn't even realized how close he had gotten. You scurry forward just to get some distance. Truthfully, you didn't want to see this ‘gift’ Rigby was talking about, but you knew that you couldn't turn back.
Deep down, you knew something horrible was about to happen. The squelching sound grew louder, and you could hear the sound of chewing along with it. When you looked back at Rigby for some sort of reassurance, he just had this strange smile on his face. It sent a chill down your spine.
And when you hesitantly looked in the last stall at the very back of the barn to see the source of the noise, your ‘gift’, you dropped the flashlight in horror and let out a scream as you stumbled back right into Rigby's arms.
On the ground was your boyfriend's corpse, his face nearly maimed beyond recognition as several pigs chewed at his body. You're lucky you're able to swallow the vomit in your throat as you try to get out of Rigby's hold, looking away from the horrific scene in front of you as you cried.
“Let go of me!” You claw at his arms, but he just holds you tightly against his chest, gently shushing you as he forces you to watch the pigs eat.
“Do you like it?” He asks, completely ignoring your horror, “It wasn't hard getting him to come here. I just told him you had an accident, and suddenly, he was on his way. Isn't that sweet? It's a shame he wasn't stronger… he never would've been able to protect you if someone tried hurting you. But I can, see? I can give you what you deserve.”
You weren't even listening to his deluded words, trying to squirm out of his hold, “You're a fucking monster.” You spit out, a sharp gasp being torn out of your mouth when he shoves you against the wall of the barn, his hand around your throat as he lightly squeezes. A subtle threat, one that had you shutting up.
“I expect some fucking gratitude, you ungrateful brat.” Rigby’s voice is cold, his anger had never been something you'd ever been on the receiving end of, “I did this for you. For us. You should be thanking me.” His hand on your throat tightens, squeezing the air out of your lungs, his gaze hard as he stares at you expectantly.
Desperate for air, you're barely able to wheeze out a small, “Thank you.”
As black spots start to fill your vision, Rigby removes his hand from your neck, and you're able to breathe again. His anger was gone, replaced with delighted satisfaction.
“Of course, darlin’.” He sweetly says, a bloodied hand coming up to gently wipe the tears off your face, “I'd do anything for you. I can provide for you, so just be good for me in return, okay?”
And as he pulls you into a kiss, his lips pressing against yours with a heated desperation, you find yourself missing the city for the first time since you left it.
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yzzart · 10 months
Note
Could you do a Tom blyth x actress!Reader of like a compilation of cute moments during interviews? Like you did with the playlists one, but this time you could do more couple-ish stuff like kissing or any other type of physical contact? I’m just really craving for Tom content and you’re the only one I’ve seen who writes for him!!!!!🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
"Just married, according to fans."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.
summary: you and Tom look like an elderly married couple, say your fans and the rest of the cast.
word count: 635!
notes: here it's in your hands, anon! honestly, i had a lot of fun writing and imagining this scenario; it's so cute and adorable and forgive me if it's short & there're so many amazing writings for tom and you need to read them! — i hope you like it and share your ideas and requests with me!
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"That's so cliché." — You turned, looking at Tom, amused by his answer to a behind-the-scenes question.
"We're cliché, honey." — He confessed, placing his hand on your knee, squeezing it weakly and with affectionate intent; you felt the small coldness of his rings.
"You guys're definitely cliché." — Rachel confessed, looking at the camera, with her lips curling into a tight smile and laughing; and soon, you and Tom laughed at her words.
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"Oh, your work on 'Billy the kid' is so captivating." — You crossed your legs, settling in the armchair, and resting one of your hands on your knee. — "And i think i've said that for the thousandth time? I don't know?" — A question that did not, in fact, have a concrete answer; a simple provocation.
"Maybe, but, i want to hear it again." — Tom arched his eyebrows with a bold expression and curled his lips; and proceeding to arrange the headphones in his ears.
"Okay, okay!" — The radio presenter raised his hands, finding it funny and interesting. — "It's so good and intriguing, leaving the viewer wanting more and becoming completely obsessed!" — You paused briefly. — "And i already begged to participate at least as an extra in the series!" — Tom and the presenter laughed. — "And i'm not kidding, and to this day i'm waiting for something or confirmation."
"She's really not kidding." — Tom completed with a proud smile, having fun with your statement and waiting, with fingers crossed and mentally, for your confirmation in the series.
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"And I'm saying…" — Rachel raised a finger up, supporting it in a sign of pronouncement. — "I'm saying that I think it's unfair for Y/N to participate in this!" — She laughed, looking at you and, soon, wanting support from Josh; you placed the small card you were holding, which was part of the game, and placed it on your face, holding it and looking at the camera in front of you.
"I also think!" — Josh confessed. — "Asking his girlfriend to answer questions about him is cheating." — He asked, jokingly, with his arms raised.
"Not in my world." — Tom mentioned, shrugging his shoulders, looking at the camera and pointing the small white cards towards it.
"Are you afraid of losing?" — Now it was your turn to tease, arching your eyebrows and running a hand through some strands of your hair and leaving the small card in your lap.
"Oh yeah?" — Rachel said; while, Tom's hand gently and knowingly held your and the camera captured and focused on the moment. — "Look at this!"
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In every interview, or radio appearance, Tom always, always maintains physical contact with you; his hand on your thigh, or leg, he's holding and stroking your hand. — Analyzing the spots that are present, and rings that you wear. — Tom just can't keep his hands off you.
Those deep, lovely blue eyes are always on you; admiring, contemplating and paying attention to every word that was uttered from your lips. — Sometimes, he gets lost in the conversation and topic because they were busy watching you.
Matching accessories? Oh yeah! In addition to the photos, which fans analyzed, in which you wear his jacket, you wear rings, necklaces from the same brand and edition. — Not to mention the necklace with your initial that Tom already wore at one of the premieres and during a radio interview with Rachel.
Countless photos of you together're spread all over social media, whether from paparazzi or those that Rachel or you post. — Your fans go crazy, insanely, with them; at certain times, they created an album of them and Rachel even shared it on her profile and sent it to you.
Excerpts, videos, spread across social media, of you moving in sync; a touch on the face, rolling the eyes, or thinking about the same thing, answer or something and talking together. — God, there are so many compilations created by fans.
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allllium · 4 months
Text
Secret
~ This took so much longer than I wanted it to, yay writers block right? 😭
~ Angst, Fluff at end, WC:2,737
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~Remus is keeping a secret
Your boyfriend is cheating on you. That's the only explanation for the way he's acting. Every month he disappears, not just for an hour or two, but full days. Most of the time he disappears for about two to three days. And even if he doesn't disappear, he acts super weird around you.
You've tried to ask James and Sirius about it, but of course they never say anything. They are loyal to bone, which usually you respect but now it's just frustrating. You thought you were a part of the group, clearly you were wrong.
What are you supposed to do? You've already tried his friends, and spent months obsessing over behavior. Analyzing every little thing he does for you and other people, trying to find out who Remus would rather be with than you. You can't keep feeling like this.
You're in the library, trying and failing to focius on your book. Usually Remus would be here with you, but he's not. You haven't seen him since yesterday morning, when he all but pushed you out of his dorm room.
At first this whole thing was frustrating, and confusing, but now you feel rejected, a feeling your boyfriend should never give you. At first you raked your mind for any other reason why Remus would act like this. You went through things like illness, something about his friends, family maybe, you even thought it might have something to do with school work, but none of those explain why he's nowhere to be seen.
So now here you are. On the verge of tears while sitting in the library, wishing he would just come clean about what he's doing. At least then it would be easier to break up with him. But what can you do without proof, left with nothing but a bad feeling.
“What's wrong, sweetheart?” You are quickly pulled from your thoughts by James’s voice coming from behind you. He's always been incredibly sweet to you, mostly because he thought it would help convince Lily to go out with him, but you also know he's just a naturally good person.
“Fine, Jamie.” You give him the best smile you can muster, obviously he sees right through it. He slings his arm around your shoulder and plops down in the seat next to you.
“What's on your mind?” He seems genuinely concerned but you don't believe it. Real friends tell friends when they're being cheated on. You wish. In real life, however, they always stay loyal to whoever came first. You love that Remus has such great support when he needs it but what about you?
“It's nothing, doesn't matter.” You try your best to reassure him.
“No, something is clearly wrong. How can I help?”
“It's nothing, James, just drop it. Please.” He knows you're serious when you use his real name, usually resorting to some stupid nickname.
“Yeah, okay. If you need anything just let me know.” You only nod as he turns to leave. You take a big breath when you're alone again.
You're honestly trying not to panic. You love Remus, a lot. But you can't be with a cheater, you just can't. And if you break up with him then you lose all your friends, because of course, they were his friends first. Which means you have to start over, all alone. Yeah, no reason to panic.
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Over the next few days you don't see Remus. Not because of him, this time it's you trying to disappear. This is what happens, he ignores you for a few days then comes back all clingy as if nothing happened. The first couple times you tried to ask about it but you never got a straight answer. He told you he was busy with his friends or with school, which was clearly a lie, so eventually you stopped asking.
You've had to change your daily routine a lot just to avoid him. Instead of going to his dorm for bed, you go to your own. You're not eating in the dining hall, because he would sit with you. You're sitting away from him in class and turning the other way when you see him in the halls. Apparently your avoidance has been so obvious, McGonagall stopped him after a class to ask what happened. You didn't stay long enough to overhear his answer.
“Oh, Angel!” You hear your boyfriend’s voice call for you in the hallway, you do nothing but walk faster, knowing you won't be able to keep it together long enough to face him right now. “I know you heard me.” His voice is much closer as he grabs your shoulder to stop you. He takes the books out of your hand and holds them behind his back.
“What do you want, Remus?” You ask him, not turning around.
“I want to know why my girlfriend has been ignoring me for days now?”
You no longer feel sad when you finally turn and look at him, the irony of his statement filling you with sudden frustration and anger, “Oh really? What about you Remus? You ignore me for days every month and I still don't have an answer for that!”
He stays silent, analyzing your expression before continuing, “It's different,” is all he says.
“How Remus? I would love for you to explain how exactly this is different.”
“It just is!”
“You know what, I don't even care. Come find me when you can explain, otherwise don't bother.” You feel like you're going to collapse as you walk away, leaving him in the hall, with your books in his hand.
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You didn't think it would be this hard. Yet after a few more days have passed it seems Remus took the ‘don't bother’ part of your speech more seriously than any other.
You honestly thought he would at least try to give you any kind of explanation. Even if it is a lie.
James and Sirius haven't talked to you either. Remus obviously told them about what you said, they don't want to be friends with you if you aren't with Remus.
Over the last few days, you've spent a lot more time with Lily and the rest of the girls.
“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Lily asks you. You're sitting with her in her dorm with Mary and Pandora.
“I don't know what to say.” You shrug. What are you supposed to say? You don't want to tell her Remus is probably cheating on you, on the very off chance he isn't. And you don't want to admit how much you miss being around him.
“What did you guys fight about?” Mary pipes up. At this point the whole school has noticed the behavior between the two of you. Everyone has been talking about it, spreading theories as to why such a happy couple has been acting like this.
“It wasn't a fight,” You begin to explain to the girls, “I told him unless he can tell me why he keeps disappearing I don't wanna talk to him.”
You don't miss the look Lily and Pandora exchange. Mary focuses her gaze onto the floor, none of them look at you as Pandora speaks up this time.
“I mean he probably has a good reason.” She tries to offer.
“And you all know, don't you?” Great, you're officially the only one who doesn't know this secret your boyfriend is keeping.
“It's not what you think.” Lily tells you softly.
“Then why won't he tell me?”
“I don't know,” Lily tells you again, “Maybe you should talk to him.”
“I tried that, but it didn't work.”
“Then don't ask him to talk, tell him you're not happy. I promise he's not trying to hurt you.”
“And how do you know? He apparently told everyone but me Lily, what am I supposed to think?”
No one responds.
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“I don't know what to do.” Remus tells his friends, running his hands over his face in despair.
“Well, I vote you stop being a dumbass but we know that won't happen.” Sirius offers him. The four of them haven't left their dorm all day, trying to convince Remus he needs to be honest with you. Actually Peter and Sirius have been trying to convince him, James hasn't talked to him all day. He knows why you were upset in the library and isn't trying to hide his irritation, however, he doesn't want to say something to hurt Remus. So he stays quiet.
“I agree. What's the worst that can happen?” Peter shrugs, you'd think Remus would listen to him considering he's the one in the longest lasting relationship.
“Uh, she could leave me!” He practically shouts, rolling his eyes at the look shared between Sirius and Peter.
“Oh you mean like what she wants to do now?” Remus doesn't even notice who says it, too distracted by the ice running through his veins.
“You really think she'll want to break up over this?” His voice is barely a whisper, the slight heartbreak clear in his tone.
“This is one of the biggest parts of your life and you haven't told her. She knows you've been lying about it and you haven't talked to her once since she said “don't bother.” In my opinion all you're doing is showing her you don't care.” Peter tries his best to explain this gently to Remus. Not wanting to hurt him but knowing Remus won't actually understand till he knows how you feel about it.
“I need to tell her. I just- I don't want her to leave me because of it.”
James lets out an exasperated sigh at Remus's words. “She's not going to leave you for being a werewolf, she loves you just as much as you love her. If she breaks up with you it's because of how long you've kept this a secret.
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Another week goes by with no word for Remus. You're started to give up hope that he'll even try to talk to you again. Unless to finally end this relationship. Thinking about either of these options hurt your heart, not wanting this to end or go on.
“It's not until you're leaving the dining hall after dinner that you're pulled into an empty classroom. You can tell by the touch on your wrist that it's him.
“What do you want, Remus?” You immediately ask. You try to keep your face as straight as possible, not wanting him to see how upset you really are.
“I need to explain.”
“Seriously? Now?”
“Can I please just tell you what's going on? You can yell or insult me all you want afterwards, I just need you to know.” He lets go of your wrist but refuses to look away from your face.
You give a small nod in agreement but it's all he needs to jump right into what he wants to say, you have the feeling this whole plan was practiced beforehand.
“I was not trying to hurt you. I love you a lot. More than I have ever loved anything before and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you because I'm not normal. I figured if there were something wrong with who I am, I can change, I can fix that but I can't fix something I have no control over and I felt like I would die if I lost you because of it.”
“Because of what?” Is all you ask.
He takes a deep breath before finally explaining, “I'm a werewolf.”
“Oh screw you.” You roll your eyes and quickly walk out of the classroom.
Remus doesn't follow you out. He stays standing in the empty room for a few minutes, confused about the interaction that just took place.
He comes to your shared class almost halfway through and doesn't look at you until it's over.
“Angel, please talk to me.” Remus begs, following out of the classroom. You shake your head and begin to speed up your walk. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him, “Baby please.”
“What do you want, Remus? Here to lie to me more.” You turn around to confront him.
“I'm not lying about being a werewolf.” He defends, eyes widening in bewilderment.
“That's not what I'm mad about.” Your tone grows more angry as you talk. “We've been dating for how long now and you don't tell me your biggest secret? You've had me panicking every fucking month wondering where you where and who you were with. All because you what? Can't trust me with this big secret?”
Remus visible winces as your voice grows louder. “Please don't be so loud.”
“Oh yeah! Don't trust me not spill anything!”
“That's not what I meant, love. Can we just talk about this, somewhere private.”
“So what? So you can make up some lame excuses?” You turn again and try to leave.
“No angel, that's not why I didn't tell you.”
You pause. As much as you want to keep walking you love him. Deep inside you know exactly why he didn't tell you but you don't think you can bear to hear him say it. You know it's not because of you but you feel like you failed. You feel as if you failed to make him know just how much you love him, just how worth it he is. You want nothing more than for him to be happy and if he hasn't told you about his big secret clearly he's happy enough with you.
“It has nothing to do with you, I promise. I wanted to tell you so many times, so much more than you know but whenever I tried I couldn't. My mouth wouldn't open as much as I tried. I was terrified that you would leave, I know you never would, okay, I know. But the thought that you could stopped me, it stops me from doing many things.”
“Why?” You ask, tears arriving in your eye line.
“Because I can't live without you. I know how cheesy that sounds but it's true. All my life I've dealt with the consequences of being a werewolf even from people that don't know. You have helped me be myself more than anyone ever has and that's enough. I can't bear the thought of you leaving let alone the thought of knowing I pushed you away. Knowing this pushed you away and it wasn't something I could stop because if I could I would. I know it makes things harder for you. I hear how people talk about you because of my scars and how awkward I am and you don't deserve that, you've made me think that maybe I don't deserve it either. I can't lose you. I can't let this push you away because without you I go back to who I used to be. And now that you've shown me who I really am, I can't go back to being him.”
You listen to his words silently, trying your best not to let the tears fall. He doesn't deserve to feel this way and hearing him admit that makes you want to cry with happiness for him, for yourself in succeeding to make him feel as loved as he is. You want to tell him this but he continues.
“I love you, angel. And I'm so sorry I couldn't get myself to tell you before. I am so sorry I made you worry and made other people lie for me. I don't know what to say except for that. I don't know how I can make this better.”
“You already did, Rem.” This time you turn to face him, seeing the tears on his face break your heart even more. “I mean I can't really fault you for your mouth sabotaging you.”
A small smile blooms on his face. “How dare it.”
“I know what it's like to be that anxiety. I thought you were cheating on me.”
“I would never!” He looks genuinely offended at your words.
“I know baby, but there's still that fear.”
“I'm really sorry.” He pulls you in for a hug.
“I know, Rem. I wish I could've helped you more.”
“Dove, you've already done more than enough, I love you.”
“I love you too. But if I find out you're keeping something else I'll kill you as you sleep.”
You feel Remus grin into the crook of your neck.
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hollandsangel · 5 months
Text
casual | m. sturniolo
i’ve been scheming for weeks !! (actually started this before move over AND voice. so.)
basically i’m obsessed with this song
summary: the most dangerous label is the casual one; or you both want more
warnings: matt x fem!reader, use of y/n, ANGST, cursing, happy ending bc i’m a sucker & a lost cause
wc: 6.5k
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the sun is dipping behind the horizon, painting the sky pink and orange. you have your window rolled down, letting the salt air breeze pick your hair up as you rest against the car door. matt has elmer’s new song playing on aux, something lofi with a bit of spanish mixed in.
“like what you see?” he speaks up, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look over at you. he stares for a second, your skin illuminated by the fading rays of the sun, kissing the tops of your cheeks and giving you a warm glow.
you press yourself up to sit properly and catch his hand resting on the center console. you always loved that he drives with his left hand, the right always close enough for you to touch. 
“it’s pretty,” you say, poking your head back out of the window, looking overhead at the passing trees, “the palms are so tall.” matt squeezes your hand, and when you look back up he’s already looking at you, smiling when you meet his eyes.. his hair looks lighter in the setting sun, the side of his face lit up all golden and warm. you bite your lip and smile, turning away with a slight flush.
“it’s green,” you tell him and he flicks his head back forward, muttering a curse under his breath.
“my bad,” he admits, refusing to drop your hand. 
it looked like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and lets it out before turning back to the road.
when the car pulls into the garage you reach to the back to grab your overnight bag. matt’s already out of the car, coming over to your side to open your door, “c’mon,” he says in that silly high pitched voice, just to hear you giggle.
you make your way to his bedroom, knowing the ins and outs of the triplet’s house like the back of your hand. matt follows behind you, his footsteps echoing amongst the hardwood floors. 
“i can’t wait to lay down,” you sigh, the effects of the sun's heat catching up with you now that you’re in the cool, air conditioned house.
“yeah, i’m feelin’ pretty tired too,” matt agrees, his voice heavy and suddenly cloaked by fatigue.
you’d been out all day, shopping on melrose, walking by the beach. dinner and ice cream and the beating sun soaked up all your energy. nothing sounded better than getting cozy in matt’s bed and watching a movie, maybe catching a bit of a nap before deciding to head home. you knew he’d insist on driving you, and that always hurt more than you’d like to admit.
the two of you weren’t dating, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you told yourself you didn’t mind. it wasn’t a very convincing lie though, most everyone around you could tell. it’s not that you hadn’t talked about it, you had, there were just things getting in the way.
matt was worried about how his fans would react, and he absolutely did not want it to be at your expense. you hated the thought of pushing him, like forcing him or asking too much, being too needy would only drive him away. all your friends had told you to stop, that you were only going to get yourself hurt, but you’d honestly rather have half of him and a broken heart than none of him at all. 
you never doubted that he cares about you, in fact you know he does. he always picks you up from classes, knows your order at all your favourite fast food places and keeps an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you. it’s things like that that make the title of causal or just seeing each other sting a little bit more.
here though, all settled in matt’s bed, you try not to think about it too hard. there’s some liam neeson movie he insisted on showing you playing on the tv, and you’re happy to be watching it, but mostly happy to be watching it with him. his chest rises and falls under your head with each breath and it’s making you more tired than before.
“i’m so warm,” you say through a yawn, all comfy now in your sweats and matt’s crewneck, although the comfort comes mostly from his arms wrapped around your middle. 
“you can throw on a pair of boxers if you want, top drawer,” matt offers, his arms unmoving, keeping you mildly trapped against him.
“let me goooo,” you groan dramatically, making a big show of sliding out from under his arms and grinning to yourself when he laughs.
“come back,” he pouts, reaching for a stuffed animal to take your place while you cross the room to his dresser.
“just give me a sec,” you giggle, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. there’s something stuck to it, all tangled up in the mess of his clothes, “what the– is this my bra? i’ve been looking for this for like a month.” 
matt lifts his head just enough to see what you’re holding up, huffing when he hits the pillow again, “i dunno, sweetheart, you probably left it, you’ve got a lot of stuff here,” he sounds tired, and the words are pressed against his pillow now that he’s rolled onto his stomach. 
you’ve got lots of stuff here.
it digs into you, how casually he says it, an almost physical ache you feel beyond your ribs, right where your heart is. 
quickly you try to shake it off, shucking off your sweatpants and sliding the boxers up your legs so you can hurry back into bed before allowing yourself to think about what he said too much. 
“c’mere,” there’s a little smile on his face when he says it, arm outstretched for you to crawl under. immediately matt tucks you up against his body impossibly close, his nose stuffed into your hair and breathing you in. it feels nice, right, and you let yourself bask in it, like maybe the state of your relationship (or lack thereof) won’t be in limbo forever. he has to feel it too, the pull.
“i think you should just stay tonight,” he says quietly against your temple, leaving a little kiss there.
“are you sure?”
he nods, “it’s late, ‘m not gonna kick you out,” you can see his smile in the dark, his features lit up delicately by the dim light of the movie, “and i kinda wanna cuddle,” he admits sheepishly, trying to hide his blush when you turn to him.
“awe, matty,” you tease, scooching closer to him, hardly an inch away.
“hey,” he says all high pitched, making you laugh again.
“that voice always gets me,” you tell him, snuggling up under his chin.
“that’s why i do it,” he tells you.
it doesn’t take long for you to slip into an easy sleep with matt holding you, the mindless noise coming from the tv luring you deeper into unconsciousness. he’s being extra gentle, finger tips dragging along your waist under your top. you hardly feel him slide out of bed or tuck you in all snug under the covers.
nick’s in the kitchen when matt emerges from his bedroom for some water,  hunting for something in the pantry. matt rubs his eyes.
“hello?” chris leans forward on the couch, his voice startling matt.
“jesus, what– you’re just both out here at fucking two in the morning?” he grumbles, eyes squinted against the harsh lights.
“we ordered food,” chris stands up, walking into the kitchen.
nick nods, closing the cupboard, glass in hand, “we thought you were at y/n’s or something, i didn’t hear you come in,”
matt grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and a takes a sip before answering, “nah she’s here, she’s asleep,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom.
nick groans, “god, are you guys dating yet,” he asks, head rolling back against his shoulders, exsapertated.
matt’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst of noise, looking back at his door to make sure nick didn’t wake you, “dude, be quiet,” he urges.
you’d felt matt’s absence after a few minutes, the warmth of his body leaving the bed when he did. slowly you sit up, pressing the heel of your palm into your eye and swinging your feet to the floor quietly. you stand behind matt’s closed bedroom door, prepared to silently creep out and go to the bathroom when you catch his voice. 
“and no,we’re just casual,” he continues to answer nick’s question, who glances over and chris. “what— don’t look at him like that,” this earns him another sideye, “i mean it, it’s not serious.”
“matthew” nick starts, “isn’t she asleep in your bed right now?” nick points an accusatory finger in his brother’s direction, emphasizing his words.
it’s matt’s turn to look at chris, who holds his hands up in surrender, “don’t look at me, i’m with nick,” he says, looking away from his brother from where he remains on the couch.
“well she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s where this is going,” matt turns back to the fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to hide from his brother’s judgmental, but justified, stares. 
it hurts to hear, even if you know it’s the truth.
“and why not, idiot,” nick asks, getting fed up. he can clearly tell how his brother feels and is getting frustrated, mad even, with the idea of him toying with your feelings. 
“i just—i just can’t do it.” that hurts more, a sharp pain you feel in your chest. you swallow dryly, and that hurts too. 
you decide you don’t have to go to the bathroom that badly anymore, and slowly sink back into matt’s bed. you know you and matt aren’t together, that he’s not your boyfriend, but a part of you has always clung to the idea that one day he would be, that he’d finally make the move. you thought he liked you enough to at least try.
tugging the duvet up to your chin you roll over onto your side to face the wall. matt comes back into the bedroom and you can hear nick and chris talking quietly for a second before the door closes again. you’re not too sure, but you think one of them mumbles your name amidst the conversation. matt slides back under the covers with you, coming as close as he can to wrap his arms around you.
it makes your head spin, his words rattling around in your mind, saying he “can’t do it,” but here is, body tucked perfectly against yours, holding you so tight you’d think he never wanted to let go.
matt seems notice that you’re a bit quieter than usual the next morning, but you try to hide it under the excuse of not feeling well. he offers to drop you off and you take him up on it, knowing that marinating in the misery you feel won’t solve anything but seems to be the easiest thing to do at the moment.
“text me if you need anything, okay?” his tone is concerned and you can feel him looking at you even though you’re trying to avoid eye contact. you know you’d cave, catching a glimpse of the light blue with all that worry clouding it.
“yeah, i will,” you sigh, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. 
matt catches you, palm placed delicately along your jaw so you’ll look at him, “hey,” he says all soft, “c’mere,” he guides you forward slightly and you know what’s coming, you know it’s gonna hurt but you do it anyway.
he kisses you gently and you fall into it with ease, reaching out to touch his arm. when he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone you pull away, licking your lips.
“i’ve gotta go,” you whisper, afraid the full volume of your voice would shatter something, you’re not too sure what.
“yeah, okay,” he nods, pulling his hand away from your face and trying to smile as you open your door, watching you walk into your building.
he stays there in the parked car for a minute, wondering what’s wrong, pretending he doesn’t know that this whole situation hurts you just as much as it hurts him. he’s staring up at your apartment window, tapping the steering wheel and taking a long, deep breath.
“fuck,” he mutters to himself, pushing his hair back and putting the car in reverse.
you and matt don’t talk excessively for the next few days, only a few texts exchanged here and there and one phone call after he knew you’d just written a midterm. 
he called to ask how it went and tell you he was proud of you, and also to invite you out to dinner with his parents on the upcoming weekend. they were flying out to l.a. for a few days and he wanted you to meet them. it felt cruel.
“i dunno matt, i’ve got an assignment due sunday at midnight, i might not be able to make it,” of course you wanted to go, but the tug of self preservation was starting to become more equal to the pull you felt towards him. you were starting to lose sight of what was more important, him or yourself.
for so long it had been him.
“please, sweetheart, i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever,”  matt slumps into his desk chair, spinning back forth.
you cave and somehow your vision clears. it was him again.
“yeah, yeah, okay, i wanna see you too,”
matt smiles on the other end of the phone, “yay,” he says sweetly, making his joy obvious, “i can help you with your assignment if you want, too,” he offers, and you know he’s just trying to get a smile out of you.
you laugh without meaning to, “matt, you know nothing about the course,” 
“i’ll figure it out, anything i can do to make sure i see you,”
you bite your lip, trying to keep a smile at bay, “careful, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,”
“aw, well i can’t have that now can i?” he teases, and it cuts deeper than he realizes it does.
“no,” you mutter, trying to hold onto the smile on your face even though matt can’t see you, “um, i should probably get going, if i wanna finish my assignment on time,”
“oh, yeah, okay. i could come by a little later with some food?” he poses it as a question, sensing your hesitancy.
“you don’t have to do that,”
“i know, but i want to,” he says it so easily, like there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come to your house after eleven pm just to sit on your bedroom floor while you do school work.
“canes?” you finally offer.
“be there in half an hour.” you hear the car keys jingle through the phone, the front door latching shut.
the triplet’s parents land on friday afternoon. you haven’t seen matt since wednesday night when he called and brought take out to your place, and you’re starting to feel a little nervous at the thought of seeing his parents.
you’ve spoken to them over facetime once or twice when matt had called them, but this is real, this is serious.
you think you’ve completely driven yourself insane with that, thinking of it as serious. for days there’s been a battle in your head about whether or not this means matt wants to make your relationship offical. it’s become such a problem that you’ve forbidden yourself from thinking about it.
taking a deep breath you refocus on yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and trying to decide on a lip product for the night when your roomate wanders into your bedroom.
“how are you doing?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. you don’t answer, just look up at her with what must be a miserable expression, because she chuckles sadly at you, “that bad, huh?”
you groan and clench your fists, “i’m just confused!” you exclaim.
“i know, but i think tonight should clear some things up,” she tells you hopefully, and you really want to believe her.
“i hope so,” you sigh, “i just really like him,” you whine, defeated.
your phone dings then, a message from matt of course.
matt sturn
be there in twenty
ive got the kids
you laugh sadly at the text.
“‘s that him?” your roommate asks.
“yeah, him and his brothers are on the way, they’ll be here soon.”
“you’ll do great, don’t sweat it,” she tries to reassure you, giving you an over enthusiastic thumbs up before shutting your door again.
matt, nick and chris have been in the car for about five minutes and already matt’s debating driving into oncoming traffic. him and his brothers have had the same fight at least three times since you stayed over last week, and if he’s honest, he’s getting really sick of it.
“enough of this ‘i can’t do that’ bullshit, matt, she’s coming to dinner with our parents,” nick says pointedly, running out of air at the end of his setence, “you don’t just bring your hook up to that shit, so fucking stop talking to her if it’s that much of an issue,” he continues, leaning froward against matt’s seat, staring holes into the side of his brothers face.
matt is clearly aggravated, gripping the wheel a little too hard, “shut the fuck up, nick— she’s not just a hook up,” 
nick’s eyes get wider at this and he leans over matt’s seat, voice exponentially louder when he says, “you just proved my fucking point!!”
“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” matt mumbles in a deft tone, staring harshly out onto the road.
chris leans over from the passenger seat, gesturing in matt’s direction, “and you do? you never shut the fuck up about her, and she’s always at the house but you’re too much of a pussy to do anything,” he yells over matt all in one breath, words coming out too fast. 
matt’s mouth is set in a firm line and he’s shaking his head, “you guys don’t get it!” he finally yells back, signaling and switching lanes before he can finish his thought, “i can’t do that to her,” the car’s stopped at a red light now, allowing him to look nick in the eye from the rearview mirror. both him and chris shut up for a second.
“i can’t do that to her,” matt emphasizes again, making his point with his hands, bracketing the last two words, “the internet would chew her up and spit her out. you think i don’t want to make her my girlfriend? do you think i like doing this to her? every fucking day i think about cutting it off because i don’t wanna hurt her, but i’m too fucking selfish to do it.”
“it’s green,” chris mumbles.
“shut the fuck up,” matt says through his teeth as he turns back to face the road, driving through the light.
“so what are you gonna do?” nick asks, softer now, arm hung over the back of matt’s seat.
matt looks up at him in the rearview again, taking a deep, anxiety ridden breath, “i don’t know.”
the three boys are silent for the remainder of the drive to your apartment. matt puts the car in park and mumbles something about being right back before getting out and heading up to your floor, slamming the car door a little bit too hard.
“jesus christ,” chris breathes, feeling the tension finally break.
there’s a knock at the front door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. matt stands with his hair a little bit messy and his cheeks a little bit red, but he softens when he sees you.
“hey,” you say, “let me just grab my bag,”
“wait, y/n,”
“yeah?” you turn back around to look at him. he’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, looking a little bit deflated.
“can i have a hug?”
your heart nearly shatters. is he feeling it too?
“wha– of course baby, of course,” you cross the kitchen over to him and he already has his arms open. immediately he locks his arms around your waist, resting his head against yours. you gently rub his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder.
“is everything okay?” you wonder after a second, feeling him breathe heavily against you.
matt squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your hair, “yeah,” he sighs, “nick and chris are just annoying,”
“you love them though,” you remind him.
he pulls away but keeps you close, hands on your hips now, “sometimes i think about reevaluating that,” 
you laugh at him, fixing his messy hair, “no you don’t,”
its his turn to smile, “you’re right,” he leans in for a quick kiss which you grant him, letting it dampen your nerves and reservations on the evening.
“i know, now c’mon, we’ve gotta go,” you slide your hand down into his.
“you don’t have to be nervous, by the way,” matt says to you in the elevator, still holding your hand. 
you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and he squeezes your hand, letting you know he’s there for you, “it just feels serious,” you finally admit what you’ve been thinking for the last few days. you’re a little bit afraid to look over at him, so you keep your gaze towards the closed elevator doors.
matt gives your hand a quick squeeze and glances at the side of your face, you can feel his eyes on you, “it’s not serious, don’t worry,” it’s a little strained when he says it, as if he means something else but you can’t quite decipher it. it’s too much to think about now and yet it’s all you’ve been thinking about for days, how ‘unserious’ it all is to him.
when you do get to dinner, marylou and jimmy are already at the restaurant. marylou is being so sweet to you, asking about classes and how you met the boys, what you like do to in your spare time and things about matt that you tease him over. you feel like a girlfriend, you feel like his girlfriend and you don't think you can take much more of it. she tells you how much he talks about you when he’s home, that even justin has started making fun of him for it.
when you look over at matt he’s blushing but staring directly into his plate, avoiding you.
the smile you plastered onto your face fades and you dig your nails into your plam under the table.
“excuse me, i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you say to no one in particular, catching nick’s eyes. he seems to notice your pleading gaze, and sends you a text after you’ve left the table
nick stromboli 
you okay?
you lock yourself in the single bathroom and stand staring at your phone screen.
you
this is brutal
your mom is being sooo sweet but matt won’t even look at me
i feel like he's embarrassed
nick stromboli
he's actually the biggest idiot that ever lived
chris is lowk giving him a death stare rn
nick was being serious, chris staring at matt as marylou goes on about how nice you are.
nick elbows matt in the side and he looks over, more than slightly fed up.
“i think you should go check on y/n,” he whispers, making matt perk up a bit in worry.
“why?”
“i don’t think she’s feeling good,”
“oh, i hope she’s okay,” marylou interrupts herself.
“i’ll be right back,” matt stands from the table and walks to the bathroom, knocking on the door gently, “y/n/n? it’s me sweetheart,”
a slight panic drops through you as you push away from where you were leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.
“c’mon let me in, nick said you weren’t feeling good,” he knows you were nervous about tonight, and he’s hoping that’s all it is, that he can fix it.
you sigh, head tossed back to your shoulders as you breathe out before letting him in, hoping you look more composed than you feel.
“hey, you okay?” he asks gently, closing the door behind him.
“yeah, uh, i think i’m gonna go,” you mumble, looking away.
“what? d–do you want like a gingerale or something?” his brows are pinched and he’s reaching out for you. you step back without thinking about it. you don’t even notice you’d done it until you see the hurt look on his face. he reaches out again, slower this time.
“y/n…”
something in you clicks, or comes crashing down when his fingers brush your wrist, “i’m not your girlfriend matt, stop worrying about me like i am,”
he's a little bit stunned at that and pulls back, saying your name again. 
“no, don’t do that, i heard what you said to the guys last week, and you keep telling me we’re causal and we can’t be anything but we’re at dinner with your fucking parents. i can’t keep prenteding to be your girlfriend, or–or that it doesn’t hurt, i just can’t do it anymore,” 
there’s tears in your eyes you don’t notice until matt whispers, “don’t cry,”
“i’m going crazy,” you tell him, voice so soft, so fragile that his heart breaks a little bit.
“no you’re not, c’mon– we can work this out,” the words are so comforting, and normally he’s the one you’d run to for comfort, but he’s hurting you.
“are we gonna make it official, matt? or are we just gonna keep sleepingover at eachother’s houses four days a week and tell all our friend we aren’t dating?” you ask, pressing your fingertips underneath your eyes, “are we gonna do this for real or are you gonna keep telling your parents about me when you’re in boston, and–and keep coming to my house after midnight with take out just because i don’t wanna be alone working on assignments,” he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a solemn look, so you keep going.
“i can’t take the sorry fucking look chris keeps giving me when i’m walking out of your room, it hurts, matt,”
he steps forward finally, trying to make up for more than the physical space that separates you, “no, c’mon, just–just come back to the table. i’ll stay at yours tonight and we’ll talk about this,”
you hold back a scoff at the irony of him mentioning he’ll stay over, “i need an answer now.” you tell him. he’s gone back to standing a few feet away from you, not touching you anymore.
“an answer for what?”
“can you commit to this now? to me?” you feel like you’re pleading with him and you hate how desperate it is.
“we aren’t having this conversation in the bathroom right now, can we please just talk about it later?” matt asks.
you shake your head, “matt, we’ve been doing this for four months, i don’t wanna wait any longer, i’m not a toy.”
he stares at you, licking his lips. you stare back, suffocating in his silence. it’s all the answer you need.
“i’m gonna go,” you mutter, “tell your parents it was really nice to meet them, and that i’m sorry for leaving,” you add, looking away when you walk passed him to open the door.
you leave the restaurant and call an uber, hardly sparing a glance in the direction of his family’s table on your way out.
“is y/n okay?” jimmy asks when matt comes back alone. 
matt shoves a hand into his hair to push it back, not meeting anybody’s eyes, “she went home, she wasn’t feeling good”
“and you didn’t offer to take her?” marylou scolds, sure she raised her son better than that.
“she didn’t want me to,” matt admits, defeated.
nick and chris share a look, knowing that isn’t the whole truth, or really the truth at all. 
a few days later, after their parents had gone back to boston, matt’s shuffling into nick’s bedroom, where him and chris are laying on the bed on their phones. 
matt looks a mess, hair wild and eyes sunken in. he’s been in his bedroom all day, blinds drawn and door latched shut
nick thinks he’s wearing a hoodie of yours, the faded smell of your perfume lingering when his brother walks in. 
“…you okay?” nick asks, glancing up from his phone. 
matt shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “i feel like fucking shit,” he admits, still looking down, “i hate that i hurt her,” he tells the two, as if his brothers weren’t already acutely aware, “i was trying so hard to keep from hurting her and i fucking did it anyway,” they wait for matt to finish, knowing he has a little more to say, “i was so fucking scared of making things offical that i lost her all together, she’s never gonna talk to me again,”
nick sighs and looks over at chris, the two of them sharing a sympathetic look before he moves forward and puts his arm around matt, who slumps against his shoulder, “that's not true,” nick says, “she probably should never talk to you again, but she’s a good person, and she’s our friend,”
“yeah, and she cares about you a lot, matt.” chris adds, sitting on the matt’s other side.
matt groans and covers his face, “i know, and that’s what sucks,” he wipes his palms over his face, “god, why was i so fucking stupid?”
“because you really like her,” chris offers, “and you’re gonna try and make it up to her…right?”
matt sits back up, staring at the wall, “i dunno, i want to, i don’t…” he takes a deep breath, willing the pit in his stomach to go away, “i’m more afraid of losing her all together than i was of any of that other shit, but i don’t know how to fix…this,” he says, dejected.
nick perks up, because he’s never seen matt half as lively as he is when he’s with you, or talking about you. he’s pretty sure matt was on his way to falling in love with you (if he hasn’t already) and refuses to let him lose hope,“i have an idea,” he says.
matt looks at his brother, desperate. the circles under his eyes a shade too dark, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped. nick continues.
“we’ll need waffles.”
it’s been over a week and a half since you walked out of the restaurant, and since you’d spoken to matt. nick’s been messaging you, asking if you’re okay and telling you he’s there for you. there’s been a bit of him telling you how stupid matt is, which you’d agreed with solemnly.
nick’s messaging you now. you’re posted up at your kitchen table trying to review for one of your exams, but more so warding off another wave of tears, pressing your fingertips into your eyes.
you pick up your phone to answer the message nick had sent, something about a sleepover at your place this weekend and a promise of a hannah montana binge, but there’s a knock at your door. you’re confused at first, wondering who’s at your door this late.
“did you order food?” you ask your roommate as you get up, looking in through the crack of her barely opened door. her headphones are on and she's hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, oblivious to any visitors.
your heartbeat speeds up a little bit as you begin to think about who’s on the other side. with a huff you look through the peephole, met with a slightly distorted image of matt anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.
he keeps looking down the hallway and biting the inside of his cheek. he’s holding something. a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of delicately wrapped flowers in the other.
you turn the lock, hand shaking a little bit as the door swings open. he whips his head from where he was looking down the hall to the now open door, your eyes locking immediately.
“matt,” you whisper, not even meaning to say it.
he stares at you for a second, seemingly forgetting any words he would have said for a second before holding up the bag.
“i brought waffles.”
“please let me in,” he says breathlessly, as if he was holding his breath waiting for you to open the door. “i know i probably don’t deserve a chance, and you probably don’t wanna hear me out, but…but please,” he licks his lips, grip tightening on the stems of the flowers, (you didn’t think he was listening when you told him your favourites all those months ago) “i miss you,” it’s quiet, the way he says it. he’s pleading with you.
there’s an ache in your chest, you’re trying not to mistake his tenderness for pity. and yet you still find yourself letting him in.
“okay,” it takes so little convincing. you missed him too.
there’s little talking at first, mostly just you and matt grabbing plates down and dishing yourselves out. he went to your favourite diner, because of course he did. the waffles are still warm and are making your kitchen smells like butter and sausage. you move your books and laptop out of the way to make room for the two of you to sit, elbows touching when you start to eat.
you’re half way through your first waffle when matt speaks up. you could feel him staring, his body half turned towards you in his chair. some of your hair falls into your face and his finger twitches before you tuck it away. all he wants to do it touch you. hold you, kiss you, anything. he’s such a jerk. 
“i’m sorry,” 
you freeze for a second, still facing away from him. after you finish chewing you set your fork down and turn slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. the blue has grown a shade too dark, melancholic. 
“for what?” you ask stupidly, just needing to know how he’s felt about it all.
“fuck, everything?” he says, forcefully pushing his hair away from his eyes. 
you shake your head and turn back to your plate.
“y/n,” he sighs, “c’mon look at me,”
you do, but it hurts.
“i’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, and i’m sorry things got so out of hand and–and that…this went on for so long,” he gestures between the two of you, fixing his wild hair again.
“this?” you ask, voice breaking, thinking the worst, that he regrets it all, that it’s over. it’s really over.
“this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for four months, it’s crazy. it was always crazy.”
you huff, probably a little bit too dramatically as you shift to face him fully, “matt, what are you saying?”
“i’m saying that i like you! and it was so stupid to fucking…dilute that becuase i was scared or some shit,” the latter end of his sentence loses volume, he’s getting shy again.
“but–but you just wanted to be casual–” you start, looking down at your crossed legs.
“no, i never wanted to be fucking casual, i was just…. fuck i was just scared.” he says around a mouthful of waffle. the air smells like syrup. 
“i wanna be with you all the time, i like you so much– i just– at first i didn’t want things to be weird between us, which is why i thought a relationship was the wrong idea, but then we started…doing relationship things and it only got better.” he starts, messing with his hair and pushing his food around his plate, “after i stopped being so afraid of that i just, i got scared of another thing,” he finally looks up at you, eyes a little sad, a little heavy.
you can tell that he knows how he’s made you feel, and despite that you hate that he’s sad. you never want him to be sad.
matt continues, “i’d hate for you to get hurt because of my fans, and i knew it was gonna be hard to keep things private, to keep things…ours. i thought that was something i didn't wanna do or i wasn't ready for but…” he sighs, cutting himself off and taking in another big breath. you want to reach out and rub his back, knowing he’s anxious and just trying to calm himself down. 
“you being mad at me i can deal with,” he starts again, “you being mad, or–or upset because of me, is harder to handle, but fuck, not having you at all? that's worse than anything else we’d have to face,” he looks up, dead into your eyes to make sure you understand the weight of what he’s about to say, “together.”
“matt…” you whisper. you’ve forgotten about the food. it’s getting cold but it doesn’t matter.
he shakes his head before meeting your eyes again, “i’d rather go through all that bullshit with you than go through nothing without you,” he sounds so sincere that you think your heart skips a beat.
“what are you—”
“i wanna do this. for real.” he nods once, watching you closely.
“do you mean that?” he hates how doubtful you sound and he hates that he’s the one to have put all that doubt there. he thinks you might cry.
“y–yeah of course i mean it. i should have said it a long time ago, and if it makes you feel any better nick’s been giving me shit for like, two months, and i think chris wanted to beat me up last week.” he offers you half a smile, hoping you’ll give one back.
instead you breathe out laugh. he basks in it.
“i want you to be my girlfriend,” you’re looking down again and your hair falls from it’s place behind your ear. he doesn’t stop himself this time, nimble, ring adorned finger pushing it back, “i wanna be your boyfriend,”
you look up at him, studying his face for a second before you speak. he looks tired and a little worn, like he’s been thinking too much and too hard and worrying even more.
“yeah?” you finally say.
matt smiles at you. he has such a pretty smile.
“yeah.” he nods, smiling now.
“so we’re not just casual?”
matt scoffs out a laugh and stands. you stand too and he wraps his arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head when your arms go over his shoulders. he kisses your hair and breathes you in, the lingering scent of your shampoo and your perfume and you. it’s all over his clothes and his sheets, but nothing beats having you in his arms again. 
“we were never just causal,” he assures you, as if you didn’t know.
tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @cherrypostsposts
also tagging some of my faves (writers & other creators!!) 🥹 @pettydollie @wcters @grimholic @floristmatt (if you don’t wanna be tagged lmk!!)
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mythicmanuscripts · 2 months
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can you please write some nsfw subby crying emotional Aemond who’s obsessed with his wife and finally feeling loved?
Of course I can!! That’s my favourite Aemond!
While there is definitely sub!Aemond in this answer there isnt any more than implied NSFW undertones so I haven't added a cut. Hope you lads enjoy!!
So firstly it takes a very long for reach this point. Aemond is so so used to people mistreating him and lying to him and making him feel worthless. When he first marries you he assumes you will be the same. He doesn’t even have it left in him to hope for something better.
For months he was just stiff and formal with you, and in fact he never even consummated the marriage. He was too afraid of the intimacy of the act, of laying himself bare before someone
You have to earn his trust, and you earn it by always supporting him. He’s never alone in his convictions anymore, and he’s never alone during the cold evenings either. You keep him company, but you also listen and give advice and are proactive in your support for him.
Once he starts to lean on you, it snowballs from there very quickly. Aemond tries to slow down or stop it, but it’s like he’s addicted? He can’t go a day without seeing you, and eventually that evolves into him not being able to go a day not hugging you, then not kissing you, and so it progresses.
I think what really gets him is that you never ever turn him away? It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, if he comes to you then you will always let him in. Even if you’re in the middle of something, you’ll still give him a smile and tell him to come sit with you.
It’s that love and care he that he sees in your eyes every single time he comes to you that leaves him chasing after you, begging for the smallest scrap of attention. And the most important part is that you NEVER turn him away. He always has a safe space with you.
And well, when you think about it like that, of course he’s emotional and obsessed with you!! You’re like a walking safe space for him. If aemond had it his way you would never be out of his sight. Yes he’s the submissive, but he’s also very very possessive about his dom. he knows how insanely lucky he got and he will not allows others to take too much of your attention.
Honestly I think Aemond would almost always want you at his side once he realises that you actually love him? The complete 180 he goes through from only speaking to you when it was absolutely necessary and only being spotted with you at public events to pretty much never being without you will forever confuse pretty much the entire of the red keep.
It's like one day Aemond wakes up and decides that the two of you will now be a team and then you are simply never spotted apart. And I don't just mean Aemond taking you everywhere he needs to go, whenever you have somewhere to be then he's always going to come with as well. It really doesn't matter what you're doing or why, he just always comes with.
I actually think maybe once a week you two will just sit together and discuss your schedules and where you are both expected to be so that you can work out how to attend everything together? When he's prince regent he has absolutely no problem with moving small council meetings to ensure he can go somewhere with you and that you will then be free for the new time of the small council meeting.
So when someone asks about needy, emotional crying sub!aemond, the honest answer is that he’s in some form of that state most of the time.
It’s most prominent when you two are alone.
Aemond really just melts under your attention. The moment he knows he’s got your full attention his brain just shuts off? It’s by far his favourite time of the day.
He always starts calm and collected but within a few minutes he’s already getting worked up and a little squirmy. You wait for him to ask if you can play with him, and the moment he asked you flip the two of him over and then he's pretty much instantly all emotional and pliant for you.
It takes a long time for him to actually admit he wants something from you, but you get very good at reading his body language. He's so so happy about the fact that he knows if he just shows you how he's feeling then you will help him and look after him.
He really just loves how at ease you make him feel? He knows the moment he walks into your shared quarters he can relax and finally just be taken care of him.
I actually think maybe you two will have very strict rules about who can and can't come into your quarters? Most of the nobles don't even think about the servants and just let the servants do their various jobs, but it's very different with you and Aemond. You understand that for Aemond your bedroom is his safe space, and so you make sure he never feels like his safe space has been violated.
Servants have to ask you when they can change the sheets in your quarters, you do not allow them to just come in and do it whenever like the rest of the keep does. You also don't any servants assigned to specifically just help you do things like drawing baths and brushing your hair and whatnot. If for whatever reason you do want someone to do those things then you will call someone, but you never have a servant constantly waiting in your quarters.
It takes Aemond a while to notice this change actually, and when he brings it up and finds out why, he pretty much immediately just melts and you have to pull him into a tight hug.
So yeah, clingy, emotional sub!aemond who loves his wife very very much is pretty much his constant state and he's so so thankful.
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Text
You Remind Me Of Her
~
"Jason wake up I want to go see the new store!"
He felt his blankets get tugged off of him. Groaning he scrunched his face into the bed.
" Let me sleep another hour or two, it was late when I got in bed."
" And who's fault is that?"
He grabbed the nearest pillow to him and flung it to where the voice was coming from, even with perfect aim he wasn't surprised when he heard it connect with his wall and not a body.
"Yours! If you hadn't dragged me with you to look for those old music disk with you I would have gotten to bed earlier."
"Liar you would still have gone to bed late for whatever other reason."
He sat up rubbing his eyes, hissing slightly when he opened them not expecting his lights to already be on.
"Okay, what store are you making me go to today Martha?"
He dodged a swat to the back of his head. Grinning he headed towards the kitchen hearing her huff and following him.
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me grandma! Honestly, you're worse than a nipping dog"
"Well at least I'm not emotionally constipated like Bruce"
"True, but we're not speaking about my son right now we're speaking about you. Now hurry up! I saw the prettiest set of crystal glass cut tea set by the window when I was passing by!"
"Give me like 8 minutes to eat and get ready okay, will grampa be joining us?"
He turned to look at her in the eyes
Her green eyes, just barely glowing. The rest of her being transparent like fog in the early morning, her heels floating a few inches of the floor.
Martha Wayne his grandmother
His dead grandmother now a ghost
Just like he used to be
~
He walked into the small store the small bells jingling above his head.
"Look Jason they have such pretty things!"
His eyes followed her as she floated over to the display case. Quickly he took his phone and held it up to is ear.
"Which one's were the ones that caught your eye?'
He developed the habit of speaking into the phone when he was outside in public view while speaking with a ghost, that way nobody would give him a second glance looking like a normal phone call.
"The one with lilies and forget-me-not's."
His eyes quickly found the pieces and grabbed them. He looked at her from the corner of his eye.
"Is this all you wanted from here?"
The 'Do you want to continue looking?' in his gaze. She gave a quick glance around before turning back to him.
"No just that for today, we can come back another day when you don't have plans."
Jason glanced at her while he quickly paid. Leaving the store he turned to fully look at her while still having his phone up to his ear.
"Plans? I don't have any plans for today?"
A sly grin made its way on to her face
"Well I thought it's been a while since you visited Alfred and since we're in the area we might as well visit, no?"
Jason sighed, " Fine, only because it has been a while plus if I don't go you'll just keep naggin' me."
Martha gave a small huff of amusement
"That's my boy! Now! Let's get some nice tea for our visit, it would be rude to go empty handed, how about some nice cinnamon tea huh?"
"Your obsession with cinnamon tea has started to spread to me, especially the weird way you like it."
"Gasp! It's not that weird, honestly I started drinking it like that because of my cravings while I was pregnant and just never stopped. But don't lie to me, you like it just as much as I do even with the peach jam."
"Fine maybe I do."
He looked down at the time, "Let's hurry up a buy that before it gets too late."
~
He knocked at the door, shifting the bags in his hands as he waited for Alfred to open the door.
Martha waited outside with him even though she could easily phase her way inside.
Jason heard light footsteps before the door glided open.
"Master Jason what a wonderful surprise to see you here please do come in."
Alfred herded Jason inside taking note of the bags he held.
"Did you go shopping before coming here?"
"Uh yea, some of it is for you."
"For me master Jason?"
"I thought it would be rude to come empty handed so I bought tea."
"Very thoughtful of you, lets head to the kitchen to prepare a cup shall we."
Jason quickly looked towards Martha raising a brow
"You go enjoy your tea with Alfred I'm going to look for Thomas, I'll be back by the time you leave"
Jason gave a quick smile in return before quickly following Alfred into the kitchen.
"Hey Alfie we can use the new tea set I got today, let me just wash them real quick."
He turned around, not noticing Alfred's confused stare
"You bought a tea set master Jason?"
Jason turned around after quickly wiping them dry.
"Yeah look, they even have some lilies and forget-me-not's on them, saw them by the window of the shop and thought why not?" He half lied.
"I see, I haven't seen these two flowers paired up together in ...a very long time."
Jason turned towards the kitchen entrance as he heard two pairs of footsteps nearing. Both Bruce and Dick appearing in the doorway.
"Oh good you're both here, I'm about to prepare some tea master Jason brought over for us ,sit down please."
They walked over to the table, Dick quickly hugging him.
"You didn't tell me you were dropping by!"
"Get off, and yea it was impulsive decision."
"Hn, good to see you chum."
"Yeah, you too B."
Alfred walked over with the tea prepared, placing it on the table.
Dick leaned over to see the tray.
"What kind of tea is it?"
"Master Jason brought us cinnamon tea."
Dick looked over at Jason tilting his head, "Since when do you drink cinnamon tea?"
"Since none of your business."
Jason took a small sip before sighing, "Hey Alfred do you have any peach jam?"
Alfred hesitated before looking at him confused, "Peach jam? What for?"
"I like to mix it in with the cinnamon tea."
Alfred's eyes glazed over for a second before heading towards the refrigerator, "...I see, of course let me get some for you."
He quickly came back with a small jar and placed it on the table near Jason.
"Thanks Alf." He scooped up a spoonful and dipped it in his cup.
Bruce and Alfred glanced at each other.
Dick looked up from his own cup, "Does that actually taste good? Can I try some!"
He made a grab at Jason's cup, he quickly pulled it out of reach, "Don't touch mine! If you're really curious make it yourself."
Dick slumped on the table whining, "But what if I don't like it, I'll ruin my tea!"
"That's not my problem"
"Oh come oooon just a little sip!"
"No"
"Pleaseee!"
"Ugh you're worse than a nipping dog, fine!"
Before Dick could celebrate they heard twin startled noises. They turned around and Bruce was covered in tea in what seemed like he spit out his tea, both Alfred and Bruce were staring at Jason faces pale.
Jason glanced around confused, "What? Why are you looking at me like that."
Alfred straightened up clearing his throat, " Apologies master Jason you seem to have startled us a bit."
"With what?"
Bruce finally stopped coughing, "Nothing, you just...reminded us of someone."
~
Just an Idea
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autumnywinter · 5 months
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Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)
Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T
I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!
Yandere!Elliott x Reader
Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader
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Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.
Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.
He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!
There was no doubting it. You were perfect.
Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.
He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.
Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.
He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.
"Hey, Elliott!"
The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.
"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.
He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.
Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.
"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.
"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."
He knew. He watched you.
"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.
It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.
After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.
"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.
"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.
"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"
He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.
"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."
"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"
Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"
"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."
He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."
You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."
Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.
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moonsaver · 7 months
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hi!! i just wanted to say that the way that you write yandere characters is very unique and frankly amazing. like i love the fact that you don't make them overly violent like other people have and i also like how you have written the mc.
can i make a request of nsfw headcannons with yan!aventurine with female reader? thank you so much. have a great day!!!
Hello anon! Thank you for the feedback. Sorry i delayed your request so much, haha.
– fem-bodied reader, but mainly referred to as "you", no pronouns.
Nsfw below the cut!
Honestly? Yan!Aventurine is so damn pathetic. He's so used to feeling unwanted and repulsed by, so he's constantly begging on his knees for your affection. It starts out as a facade of confidence, but when you keep denying and shifting away from him, it snaps something, and he's on his knees, needy and desperate compromises, offering to do whatever you want – you want him to dom you? Tie you down and fuck you mindless? He'll do it! You want him to sub? He'll take it! You can fuck him silly and pull his hair back as harshly as you want, just please let him touch you and be touched by you.
Practically, it's absolute desperate sex
If you're still hesitant, and keep refusing him, keep telling him you don't want to do it, he'll just take it into his own hands
You definitely aren't disgusted by him, right? Definitely not! No, no, he can't allow that. You just have a hard time choosing! It's okay, it's alright! He understands! His own needy and desperate begging soon drowns out your own pleading for him to stop, and he thinks maybe he should just fuck you and let you know just how good he can make you feel. Both of your cries turn into moaning into each other's mouths, sooner or later.
Fingering? It's almost his favourite thing to do. He goes so mercilessly fast, his fingers plunging deep into your sopping wet cunt. If it's not wet enough or he hasn't done any foreplay, it's alright! He'll spit on it, and coat his fingers with his saliva. Stop squirming! He's taking such good care of you! Makes you squirt and cum so hard, but your desperate, incoherent babbling makes him think he's not done just enough, and keeps scissoring your swollen cunt all nice and deep, rubbing your clit, his eyes obsessively scanning the weak twitching and arching of your body, an almost psychotic and delusional smile on his face as he watches your body reach it's nth climax, curling his fingers in just the right spot, your face contorting into such a pretty expression, just as he wanted it to happen. Finally, he asks you if it was enough, licking your slick off of his fingers while looking into your eyes. He can always please you more, you know?
Penetration is almost similar to fingering. Or it's the complete opposite. The junction of that decision mainly happens when his tip is inside of you, and he's asking you all sorts of things, describing the things he wants to do to you in detail, rubbing your swollen tits so nicely, until you writhe under him. Oh? Sorry, he can't let you go! You probably don't want to, you just dont know how good he can fuck you! And he does just that. 
If you're not so fucked out until you cant think, he goes fast and hard, loud slapping noises bounce off the walls, his dick hits you g-spot so hard and nice it makes you see stars. His smile is so wide and cocky when he sees your dazed expression, and he only goes faster, moaning and whining into your ear, telling you just how good you're taking him, that he'll take such good care of you, he loves you so so much and, his own whining and talking is interrupted by a loud moan, as his cum shoots into you, hot and sloshing into your cunt. He relaxes for a bit, whining more into your ear before his hasty and sloppy pace picks up, hitting you hard and fast all over again, relishing the feeling of his cum mix with your slick and drip down onto the bed.
If you're already dazed and overstimulated, he's very loving. Cooing softly at you as he fucks you all nice and slow, dragging his throbbing length against your gummy walls, telling you how lucky he is to have you, asking you desperately what you want, want him to go faster? Slower? Do you like it? Why aren't you answering? Oh well, he guesses he just has to fuck you better. Keeps going slow until your climax is absolutely on the edge of crashing down on you, and then rams himself into you, moaning like a bitch into your ear when he cums inside of you
Absolute oral fixation. If he doesn't force your first time in bed with him into fingering you, it's eating you out like he's drunk on your slick.
Desperately begs into your ear to let him taste you, asks you to suffocate him, ride him or just use him, just please let him taste your sweet cum on his tongue! He begs and begs until he just can't take it and pushes you to the nearest cushioned surface, rips off whatever clothing you have and absolutely devours you. Sucks on your clit desperately and moans when you squirm and pull on his hair to try and get him off of you. Fingers roughly and sloppily plunge into you, his tongue desperately circling your swollen bud, and once he's drawn enough slick from your pussy, replaces his fingers with his tongue and almost buries his face into it. Makes you squirt and cum so hard on his face, and likes it even more when you make a mess. Looks up at you with needy, love-struck eyes, slick dripping down his chin as he asks you if you enjoyed it. If you don't respond, or are too busy catching your breath, he just dives back in and makes you cum even more on his face.
---
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