#when two obsessions collide | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cacoetheswriting · 2 months ago

Note

i am weak for shy and nervous eddie munson who fumbles when around his crush. imagine him pining over this girl who he’s never even talked to, (maybe they have different social circles) and he just sees her around with her friends and he is smitten and then one day they accidentally bump into each other and she’s like “you’re eddie right?” and you know he’d be so flustered.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k

content warnings: lovesick eddie, pining, a little self-deprecation and self-doubt, mostly cheese and fluff, adult language - wildly unedited, oops.

“I hate this fucking school.”

The group exchange knowing glances as Eddie sits at the table with a grumble. His lunch tray lands with a low crash, nearly colliding with Gareth’s juicebox and therefore spilling its contents all over. A huff and quick reflexes on Jeff’s part save the group from catastrophe, more importantly, save the homework the boy had yet to finish ahead of next period.

Eddie however, doesn’t notice the mess he has almost created. Frankly, he’s not paying attention. Even when Gareth tells him to, “Watch it, dude.”. The metal-head flicks his hand to say he’s sorry for whatever it is that his friends are chastising him for, but his eyes are fixed ahead, on the sole reason he’s in such a grumpy mood.

You.

Or rather Steve the dick Harrington, who’s got his arm draped shamelessly around your shoulders, as if he wasn’t just publicly humiliating Nancy Wheeler — since up until mere twenty-four hours ago, Hawkins High thought the blue-eyed girl was the King’s girlfriend, not you.

Eddie’s miserable. When did this happen? How did this even happen?

Last night, Steve and Nancy were all over each other. Eddie knows this to be fact since he saw them together at that party he wasn’t invited to as a guest, but to work because the popular kids always need a fix and he needs to make a living if he’s ever going to leave this shithole town. Anyway, that’s when Eddie saw the “it” couple and yet, now Nancy is nowhere to be seen and you’re snuggling into Harrington.

“I hate this fucking school,” Eddie repeats, sticking his fork into today’s cafeteria lunch. “Everyone is so two-faced and fake. No one has any integrity.”

The guys don’t need to follow his line of sight because they know very well who and what the metal-head is talking about.

“Maybe if you just talked to her, then you wouldn’t be so miserable today.” Jeff notes without looking up from his homework. “Plus, I overheard Charmaine tell Julie that Harrington is continuing to hold a candle for Nancy. This thing over there, that you’re obsessing over, is just friends being friends.”

“Doesn’t look like just friends to me,” Eddie grumbles, then looks at Jeff. “And I tried talking to her. It’s just, every time I do, my mind goes blank.”

Gareth rolls his eyes. “Dude, she’s not some superbeing. She’s a girl from our school. You’ve got no problem talking to other girls?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything because how does he go about explaining to his friends that to him, you’re more than a girl from school. It’s embarrassing enough how he’s never talked to you and yet, you occupy his entire mind and soul. The guys think it’s just another crush. Eddie knows it’s not. He can’t tell them though because they’ll laugh him out of it. Eddie the freak Munson is very much pining after a girl who doesn’t know he exists. Pathetic.

So, as any respectable guy in his situation would, Eddie continues to wallow in his own self-pity.

He stares at you throughout the remainder of the lunch break, narrowly avoiding your gaze here and there by simply looking away. His downcast humour continues throughout the rest of the day. Since he doesn’t often engage in class anyway, the teachers pay him no mind. Although, their reasons are different: a quiet Eddie Munson is better than one who causes various disturbances. After the final bell ring, he hurries out of the building and blares music the entire drive home, to fizz out his thoughts.

Called into work. Here’s some cash. Go to the diner.

Wayne

Eddie sighs. The one thing he was hoping for were his uncle's words of wisdom, although it seems that will also have to wait. Eddie slides the note into the pocket of his denim jeans and he is out the door again.

The diner is about thirty minutes away from the trailer, by foot. The metal-head decided to walk it anyway, hoping the fresh air would knock some sense into him because he’s got no business feeling this emotionally shattered.

Maybe if he wasn’t such a bitch boy around you, things would be different. Unfortunately, for some reason, ever since he first laid eyes on you, Eddie’s default is shy.

Okay, maybe you and Harrington are a thing now, so what? Eddie’s got no claim on you, unspoken or otherwise. You can date whoever, even if it’s Steve the asshole. It’s also not like you and Nancy are friends. Everyone at school knows you two run in different circles, meaning no girl-code is being broken. There is also the possibility of what Jeff overheard from Charmaine and Julie being true: you and Harrington are nothing but friends. Very friendly friends. Touchy, feely. And Eddie would have noticed earlier if it were simply the case of friendship, therefore, he concludes that you are in fact dating Steve the douche Harrington and he somehow has to come to terms with it.

Eddie pushes the door open and makes a beeline for an empty booth. He orders a burger with fries and a soda from the middle-aged waitress, then whips out a notebook from his backpack while he waits. The only one he carries and it’s not for any schoolwork. The numbers scribbled hastily in the margins are easily mistaken for maths, but that’s just business. He focuses instead on the latest D&D campaign he’s working on.

For a moment, the metal-head forgets about today's events. He gets lost in the fictional world he’s creating. The made up monsters replace any harboured thoughts of you with Steve the turd, although one closely resembles Harrington's famous head of hair and he smirks, proud of himself for the immaturity. He figures if girls can write about their demons in journals, he can bring them into D&D. Bring them, then kill them.

He’s just about finished marking a big cross over the doodle of monster Steve when a figure steps in front of the light, creating a shadow over his notebook. Eddie sighs, foot tapping underneath the table in frustration. He’s about to make a rude remark, but when he looks up to meet the eyes of the perpetrator, he’s met with your wide gaze and naturally, he freezes.

“I like your drawings,” you say.

“Uhm, t-thanks,” he fumbles.

“You’re Eddie, right?”

All he can do is nod in response and you smile. Small and charming. Enough to make the brunette’s head spin and pinch his leg because he can’t believe this is happening. Surely, this must be a dream of some sort. He came home and passed out on the sofa. The only logical explanation for why you would be talking to him, complementing his stupid little doodles. The only logical explanation for why you know his fucking name.

“We’ve never officially met,” you begin and reach out your hand.

Eddie glances at it and without really thinking, he utters, “I know who you are.”

It comes out a little more mean than he intends it to, he knows because you retreat your hand as if you’ve been burned. Eddie’s heart stings. Now he knows it’s real since only he’d be stupid enough to ruin a good thing before it even began. He’s an asshole.

“Sorry,” he mumbles quickly, then straightens in his seat. “Do you wanna sit? I-I have fries.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek for how incredibly pathetic that sounded; fries. You however, don’t notice and you’re also kind enough not to point out how he’s stumbling about his words like a little schoolkid.

“I love french fries.”

And with that, you’re sliding into the booth, across from him.

Eddie watches in disbelief as you help yourself to his food, not just the potato side, as if the two of you have been friends a lifetime. Then, probably to confuse him even more, you start telling him about how your parents locked you out and how it’s nice to see a familiar face, while he’s sitting there in silence, taking it all in, wondering whether perhaps this was some cruel joke Harrington and his band of losers were playing on him.

He wants to ask. Save himself the embarrassment if this does end up being a prank and tomorrow’s gossip: Eddie the freak Munson thought he had a chance. You keep talking, only taking small pauses to take bites out of his food or a sip of his soda, and to Eddie’s surprise nothing happens. No one jumps out screaming, laughing, pointing at him. This is really happening and he is truly baffled.

“Can we get another burger meal and the same soda?” You order from the waitress when she comes around to check the tables and afterwards, turn to look at Eddie, smile ever present. “Kinda ate most of yours.”

“It’s fine,” he manages to say.

For the first time since you sat down, it’s quiet. Now you’re the one staring at him, head tilted slightly to the one side. The smile on your face transforms into something more thoughtful, as if you were trying to read his mind — which is exactly the same thing Eddie was trying to do to you.

“So,” you begin again, “What were you scribbling intently before I crashed the party?”

“Just some stuff for an afterschool thing,” Eddie answers with a shrug, voice a little shaky.

“Mysterious.”

The sparkle in your eyes screams that you want to know more, but the metal-head is hesitant to share. Even though this wasn’t part of some scheme by Hawkins’ finest, it didn’t mean there wasn’t a different underlying reason as to why you were taking interest in him and he didn’t like when people made a fool of him.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Did your parents really lock you out?” He questions.

A brow goes up, it seems you are surprised at his push back.

“Yes,” you say matter-of-factly, then add, “They do this sort of thing from time to time. They’re big hippies, so it’s not like neglect or anything. It’s weed. They don’t want me home when they’re high because they think it would make me undermine their authority.”

Eddie smirks and you tell him it’s not funny, but he can’t help the chuckle leave his throat. When you throw a fry at him across the table, smiling wide, he’s no longer feeling the nervous bubble. In fact, he’s suddenly quite relaxed.

“I’m sorry that I’m a good daughter. Next time I’ll be sure to pick a less judgemental table” you say dramatically, although the grin doesn’t leave your features.

The brunette lifts his hands in front of his chest in a defence motion.

“No judgement here. My social status requires me to second guess reasons people have for talking to me. I had to make sure your boyfriend wasn’t going to jump me the second we stepped outside.”

“Boyfriend?” You seem genuinely taken aback by the assumption.

“Harrington,” he clarifies, although he’s not sure why he should be.

Until you laugh. It’s soft and tender, but it’s a laugh nonetheless.

“Steve’s not my boyfriend,” you state in between giggles, “He’s madly in love with Wheeler. God, does the whole school think we’re dating? He’s gonna hate that. Poor Nancy.”

Eddie blinks. Seems Julie’s information was correct, but it still doesn’t explain the closeness and the banter the entire cafeteria was witness to. He feels weird for letting this bother him so much and even though he usually has difficulties keeping his big mouth shut, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s some sort of pervert, so he doesn't say anything, simply bops his head.

Although, his silence doesn’t seem to deter you.

“I noticed you staring,” you admit, half a decibel lower.

A fresh burger and fries land on the table, followed by a large Coca-Cola. The waitress mutters something along the lines of enjoy, then walks away to tend to another table.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do next: admit or deny. He’d rather go back to fifteen minutes ago when you were eating his food and he wasn’t talking. Therefore, he slides the burger closer to himself and in one swift motion, lifts it to his lips, taking a bite too big for his mouth. He doesn’t care what he looks like at the moment, he just needs to keep himself quiet before saying something else he’s going to regret.

Across the table, you’re all smiley again.

“Do you think, when you’re done eating, you could walk me home?” You ask, offering him a napkin.

As he nods, he reaches for the paper cloth and his fingers brush yours delicately. There’s a zap of electricity, but if you feel it, you don’t react. Eddie’s continuing with the shyness, so he looks down at the burger in his hand and pretends nothing happened to him either.

It’s not until you lean over the table, index finger stretched and inching forward to touch his face, wiping leftover ketchup from the corner of his mouth, that the metal-head thinks maybe, just maybe, you feel some type of way about him too because that’s not what a person does for someone they only officially met minutes before.

Afterwards, you say, “I’ll tell you all about how I’ve been watching you too.”, and Eddie nearly chokes on his food.

thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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bighitfics · 9 months ago

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jungkook fics i can read all night all day seven days a week.

(a recommendation you didn’t know you needed) ₊⊹ ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Vows Of Betrayal ౨ৎ by @tljunglebook

— contract marriage au, enemies to lovers, romance, smut, angst.

(I will never not scream about this! this is my current favourite read! the enemies to lovers really hits in this one! AND THE SMUT SCENES ARE SO GOOD THEY MADE ME PREGNANT SO I RECOMMEND!) 😩💳

Inevitable ౨ৎ by @ahundredtimesover

— exes to lovers, second chance, parents au, angst.

(this happens to be the cutest story I’ve ever read, the longing and angst is so good!) 🥺🫶🏼

Dextrocardia ౨ৎ by @jeonstudios

— enemies to lovers, fake marriage, cop au, angst.

(this story should be arrested for being so damn good! i love how intense the enemies phase is before they start softening towards each other, the way the author managed to portray the patriarchal issues through this story is incredible, i never thought i’d say this but im an anti of jungkook in this story 😤😡 he better apologise with crocodile tears otherwise he can say goodbye to y/n.

You’re Still Mine ౨ৎ by @wattpadauthour

— workaholic husband jungkook, marriage in trouble trope, second chance.

(THIS STORY IS GONNA BE MY FOREVER FAVOURITE FOR A LONG LONG TIME! NO MATTER HOW MANY STORIES I READ I WILL ALWAYS GO BACK TO RE-READ! LIKE READ IT RIGHTAWAY IF YOU HAVENT! 😤)

Four-Seven-Eight ౨ৎ by @jiminrings

— marriage in crisis, angst, more angst, fluff.

(the heartache you’re gonna feel while reading this is no joke, i really felt sad for the y/n here (and cried a river) AND I LOVE IT WHEN BOOKS MAKE ME CRY LIKE THE WORLD IS ENDING TOMMOROW 😻💋 you know its gonna be worth it)

Time After Time ౨ৎ by @hiseyestell

— doctor au, she fell first but he fell harder (but much later), fluff.

(by far the most realistic fanfic I’ve read, jungkook is so cold that you wanna smack him in his stupid head, the female oc is so smitten with him its adorable but sad at the same time) ☹️

His Clumsy Secretary ౨ৎ by @hwangguemfictions

— grumpy x sunshine, he fell first and harder, office romance, major angst.

(this fanfic is criminally good! especially the bgm, the dialogues, the way he’s just so endeared with her, this is a big smash!) 🤰🏻🫦

The Deepest Marks Of Essence ౨ৎ by @lleldey

— tribe leader jungkook, yandere au, smut, angst.

(my favourite writer for a reason! 🫴🏼 i can never stop obsessing over yer unique storylines and writing, she’s my new favourite tbh and this story will convince you as well) 🤭💕

Marrying The Vicount ౨ৎ by @taevjim

— rich man x poor girl, regency era au, smut, filthy fluff.

(my two worlds colliding fr! this author wrote it so beautifully 😍🤌🏻 jungkook as a vicount tho (im already crying between my legs) this is like a fever dream come true, this is so effing good that i think no words are fair enough, maybe you should take a look yourself! (i swear this is worth the read!!!!)

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eicsferrari · 3 months ago

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never met - op81 smau

summary: people start making up rumors about oscar and yn. problem is they never actually met

face claim: random girls from pinterest

a/n: this is chaos but it was fun to write hope you like it

masterlist

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gossipf1 singer yn and oscar piastri are reported to be dating according to inside sources

view all comments

user5 please let this be true

lando rue, when did this happen?

user14 helppp what is lando doing here

user3 my two worlds colliding

user7 she's not good enough for him

user8 ?? he's not good enough for her

yn inside sources who??? i never saw this man in my life😭😭

user10 he's a formula 1 driver

yn oh i only know lewis hamilton aka the goat aka the loml

user10 fair

yn he looks cute tho👀

sabrinacarpenter no yn!

yn 😊😊

જ ♡ જ

yn posted a story

caption: this is the man yall think i pulled? Damn thank u

replies

↪sabrinacarpenter you are insane😭

↪lando +61 12345678 text him

જ ♡ જ

yn jazzy nights are my favorite

♡liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri and others

view all comments

user6 best night of my life

sabrinacarpenter i'm in love with you😍

yn me when i see you

user1 oscar liked...

user4 don't start

user1 i just stated a fact

user9 obsessed with your voice, i want you to sing me to sleep every night

જ ♡ જ

gossipf1 yn and oscar spotted hanging out after her concert

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user8 i fear this couple would be too iconic

user4 just... no

user5 i dont know this man my ass

yn in my defense i really haven't met him then!

lando it's true i can confirm

lando i can also confirm yn was oscar's most listened artist last year

oscarpiastri why are you here?

lando gossip is my bat signal

જ ♡ જ

yn trip made it out of the groupchat

view all comments

lando groupchat and it's only two people

yn get off my comments

lando i got you his number and this is how you repay me?

user9 lando tell us who it is🙏🏼

user3 if lando set them up it has to be oscar

user7 i'm in love with her aesthetic

user5 white shirt=oscar

user14 stop we don't know

sabrinacarpenter did my invite get lost in the mail?🤨

yn babe i'm sorry he means nothing you are the love of my life

જ ♡ જ

oscarpiastri posted a story

caption good company yn

replies

↪user4 gossipf1 ended up setting you two up huh

↪sabrinacarpenter i remember when i was the one taking her pictures...💔

જ ♡ જ

yn sorry osc i go where lewis goes🏎️

view all comments

oscarpiastri 😐

user4 osc🥺🥺

scuderiaferrari everyone is a ferrari fan ♡liked by author

francocolapinto hamilton fan first, a girlfriend second. i respect that

user5 did he just confirm that they are girlfriend and boyfriend?

mclaren 💔

yn sorry😔

charles_leclerc i approve son oscarpiastri

yn forza ferrari!

user26 we lost her to a sports guy...

જ ♡ જ

oscarpiastri posted a story

caption prettiest girl is in fact my girlfriend

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↪yn giggling blushing throwing up kicking my feet🥺🫶🏼

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yn posted a story

caption he's still mad i did not wear orange

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↪lando it's papaya not orange😡

yn same fucking thing

lando it's not !!

yn ok but the word papaya is so ugly

lando YOU TAKE THAT BACK

જ ♡ જ

yn the rumors are now true, i'm his favorite artist and he's my (second) favorite driver

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user18 she's gorgeous😍 he's just there😐

francocolapinto yes yes you might kiss but did he ever say he wanted to learn your language just to understand your jokes? i don't think so

yn call me when you are his top artist on spotify loser

user12 don't mind me i'm just patiently waiting for the love songs this will inspire

oscarpiastri you are never going to let me live this down, right?

yn you are stuck with me and my bad jokes sorry bro

sabrinacarpenter just remember she was mine first papaya boy

oscarpiastri noted🫡

જ ♡ જ

oscarpiastri she finally wore papaya

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user2 she's so hot🥵

yn not that word again😭

lando i will block you if you keep hating on the papaya

yn do it i dare you

yn i look so good tho

oscarpiastri you always look amazing

yn i love me a boy who can sweet talk

lando god stop being cheesy on main🤢

yn weren't you going to block me??

lando i should have

yn just do it you coward

user23 yes yn put the car guy in his place!

lando why are you supporting her when your page is dedicated to me??? are you a fan or a hater?

user23 i'm your biggest fan! but i support women's rights and women's wrongs so i'm with yn

yn HA even your fans like me better😛

lando you stole my teammate and now my fans what else do you want from me😭😭

જ ♡ જ

lando posted a story

caption disgusting

replies

↪yn disgustingly cute yes

lando whatever helps you sleep at night

જ ♡ જ

oscarpiastri posted a story

caption dont let their online banter fool you, they are friends

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↪yn babe don't expose us like that😔

જ ♡ જ

oscarpiastri 🧡

view all comments

yn DELETE what if lewis sees this?

user21 she's so real

lewishamilton i feel betrayed

yn nooo💔😔 you will always be n1 in my heart

oscarpiastri 😐

yn deal with it

yn i am so incredibly proud of you and i love supporting you🥺🧡

oscarpiastri thank you for being here<3

જ ♡ જ

yn posted a story

caption i'm going to tell my kids this is their dad

જ ♡ જ

yn posted a story

caption just kidding, i love you oscar

replies

↪ oscarpiastri i love you more❤️

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5sospenguinqueen · 6 months ago

Text

Taste | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms.

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander.

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face)

F1 Masterlist

next.

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f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen?

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over”

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

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mclaren just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun!

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :(

user1 she looks soooo good wtf liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?!

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red!

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this!

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together!

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp

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kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour

user4 he looks much better with yn

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

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yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look

user3 not kelly liking this!

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is!

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the end picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue”

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar

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yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there!

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver?

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you!

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

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rrivlet · 7 days ago

Note

hi I would really like to hear the story of you getting kicked out of a museum for being a 9/11 fan

Okay, so lets set the stage here. 9/11 happens. I'm pretty young at the time, and I don't remember shit about it.

Several years pass. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I wasn't even 10 yet. I develop an absurd obsession with Aviation Disasters. I watch a lot of Seconds from Disaster about this, eventually learning that Human Error is my least favorite cause of incidents because nothing funny happened to the plane.

However.

I learn about 9/11 in school and my first thought is "this is fuckin rad" because there was a big aviation disaster. I love that shit. I learn that this happened because it was deliberate. I then discard this information because it's no longer necessary. Queue the start of my 9/11 Simulation Era.

I use everything. Boxes, cans, whatever is stackable. A few times, I make a cardboard airplane. My parents are none the wiser because they just think I love airplanes (which is true, but only part of it). This goes on for some time.

Now, the museum I mentioned in those tags was called the "Imaginarium" or something like that. Childrens interactive museum. Lotsa fun stuff, and my family took me there often. One of the things they have here (which is, of course, my favorite exhibit) is a flight simulator cabinet.

One day, my obaachan takes me to the Imaginarium. I take my time, perusing through all the exhibits, making the big bubble, playing with the air cannon, all that jazz. All the while, I'm SUPER excited to get to the end, where the flight sim is.

The flight sim is running some version of microsoft flight simulator and is locked on a cesna of some sort. It has fully functioning foot pedals, throttle, and flight control. I eat this shit up every time for as long as whoever is taking me will let me. You probably already know the shape of this.

The space they have you fly over is like, a small city with surrounding countryside. As luck would have it, the city has two buildings of remarkably similar height next to each other. Sure, I'm piloting a cesna and not a passenger liner, but I don't care. I'm in the moment, I'm fucking crazed out of my tiny child MIND about 9/11, and I can do ANOTHER simulation. In my head, I'm the second plane. I get close enough to the ground (having played the simulator a lot, certainly enough to be familiar with the controls), and I set course, full throttle, for the Second Tower.

As I collide (and the plane bounces around because the game doesn't do exploding planes for some reason lol), I say aloud, and very audibly, "Oh my god, they hit the second tower." Or something to that effect.

It's maybe been 5 or so years since 9/11, so while it's not 100% fresh in peoples memories, it's near the surface of a lot of people's minds. The attendant at the counter not far from where I'm sitting looks at me after I say this, makes a 100% correct read on what I'm fucking doing and what's going on, looks at my obaachan and tells her in no uncertain terms that we need to leave and that "this disrespect cannot be tolerated here."

I don't go to that museum again for many many years, and when I do finally return (for a field trip or something), the flight sim is gone.

But it's okay because I pestered a great many of my caretakers (including my foster parent at one point) with my 9/11 sims, and I'd do it again in a fuckin caffeinated heartbeat.

#post of the tributary #ask #9/11

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salem-s · 18 days ago

Text

01 ─ PLAYING THE PART UNDER THE SICILIAN SUN (18+) ── RAFE CAMERON

── SYNOPSIS when your image-obsessed mother catches you and Rafe Cameron ─ your friends with benefits ─ in a compromising situation, you must lie and say you're dating. It spirals out of control when your mother invites him to your cousin's upcoming wedding in Italy, and spirals even further when he says yes. ── WARNINGS suggestive themes, nudity, swearing, graphic imagery. ── WORD COUNT 5.9k. Yikes. ── NOTES edited from third person perspective to second, so let me know if there are any mistakes. ── SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT PART ── SONG OF THE CHAPTER forget it by blood orange

“I’m gonna hop in the shower, so here.”

You gather each item of clothing he sporadically scattered across the room earlier, bunching it in your arms and hissing as his belt loop harshly knocks against your elbow. You plop the pile on his belly as Rafe lounges lazily, one arm resting under his head and the other skimming over his bare torso.

The act neglects to faze him as he simply watches you, the thin grey sheets bunch up dangerously low around his hips as the clothes sit – with no intention of going back on his body anytime soon – idly in his lap.

If anything, his eyes do all the talking: come back to bed. Now.

Pushing the wordless message to the back of your mind, you notice that he makes no effort to move, instead his eyes scanning up and down your nude body.

You scoff at his sloth. “No, by all means, take your time.”

He hums teasingly at the attempt to act tough. “You don’t want me to join you, baby?”

Rafe’s nimble fingers reach out to grab you by the waist, his sweet talk stirring something scandalous in your tummy. But you swerve his touch, knowing you'll undoubtedly give in if he gets his hands on you, and you have too much to do today to even contemplate going back to bed with him right now.

“Nuh-uh, Cameron,” you warn seriously, waving a finger at him, trying not to grin at his ridiculous pout. He looks too comfortable on your bed, like he was made to lay there. “I need to have an everything shower.”

“And I should care because..?”

You roll your eyes, as if it’s obvious. “My everything shower time is me time. It’s forty five minutes of work. I’m sweating. I’m cleaning. I’m shaving. You don’t need to see all of that. I don’t want you to see all of that,” you say sternly.

Instead of seceding, Rafe scoffs in utter disbelief. It’s almost mean.

He sits up in bed, clothes bunching on his lap.

“So, let me get this straight. You’ll let me see your gaping asshole, but you won’t let me see you shave?”

You and Rafe have this mutual agreement where you sleep together when it’s convenient, or when someone’s bored, or after a night of drinking and smoking and one wants to lay around and have a little fun. It’s simple, no strings attached or added complications, because neither you nor Rafe have the emotional or physical capacities to even consider being in a romantic relationship in this day and age.

At least that’s what you repeat in your head over and over again, reiterating the mantra more than you do your own class notes.

But that's besides the point.

Towards the end of freshmen year, your separate friend groups collided after a risky run in with campus police. The experience undoubtedly brought you all closer to the point where, by the end of the year, everyone was already planning shenanigans to get up to at the start of sophomore year, and it just snowballed from there.

Your friendship with Rafe, however, started rocky. The two of you liked to quip and jab at each other – often at the expense of the other. It was more teasing on Rafe’s side and defense on yours, because a favorite past time of yours is putting cocky men in their place when they try to act up around you. And if Rafe is good at one thing, it’s being overly confident in every situation he manages to squeeze himself into.

Months of tennis-match-bickering back and forth led to one night where Rafe accidentally found you walking back to your dorm in a state of hysteria after you got love-bombed by your three-peat situationship – a nice boy named Jeremy who simply wanted to take the next step – muttering to yourself incredulously. After making sure you literally weren't in a state of psychosis, Rafe had shrugged off his jean jacket (which wasn't very warm) to give to you and walked with you.

You had lamented on why people couldn’t just take casual sex literally, how it’s impossible to find someone who understands the meaning of casual. In his oh-so-well-mannered nature, Rafe was eager to agree on this case and point, how relationships never work in college anyway, that it’s impossible to have fun these days without the other person ruining it by expecting more.

One thing led to another and you both created the agreement: casual sex. Friends who constantly bicker who also happen to have sex. Two people who hook up when it’s convenient with no emotional repercussions whatsoever. The idea seemed much easier since you and him are neighbors in the dorm, his room being ten feet to the right where you share a concrete wall.

While it solves the walk of shame problem, it augments the issue of when Rafe brings other partners over and the noise gets a little extreme. You often wonder if he can hear whenever you bring someone else, and a small part of you hopes so, because the girls he brings home are genuinely so fucking annoying.

(Because it doesn’t really help when Rafe’s the best lay of your sexual career. Not that you'll ever have the gall to admit that to him.)

You bark out an unattractive laugh at his crudeness, and ignore the flip of your heartbeat when Rafe grins cockily at the noise. Taking a towel out from the drawer, you wrap it around your body and spin around to face him, still unmoving with no sense of urgency or implication that he’s leaving anytime soon.

“You’re loitering. Go back to your room.”

Rafe tilts his head to the side, almost inviting the confrontation. “You know I can eventually fuck a yes out of you, right?”

Duh, you think. You're well aware of the effect his body has on yours even if your mind keeps telling you no, it’s nothing more than sex and it never will be.

However, he takes your silence as contemplation, a lazy smirk etching his lips.

“Sweet girl,” Rafe drones out, his saccharine tone taking a slight warning as if to say make up your mind.

But no, you're not falling for that stupidly endearing pet name that regretfully makes your mind turn to mush. “Nice try. Get dressed.”

“Can you help me? I forgot how.”

You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to respond but three harsh knocks at the door interrupt your thoughts. And thank god, because you aren't sure how to respond to his incessant flirting without eventually giving in, since his relentless attempts at a round two, three, four are usually successful.

Despite the interruption, you stand confused, eyes darting to the mini clock on the nightstand showing the time.

“Fuck’s sake. Maggie’s early, we aren’t supposed to leave until ten.” You dart your gaze from the time to the man in bed, watching you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Jesus. Will you get dressed?”

Rafe doesn’t move, instead he stretches his arms up and you have to tear your gaze away. “Will you tell Mags to give us, uhhh, like, ten minutes?”

“You’re insufferable,” you huff, clutching the towel tighter as you move towards the door to look in the peephole. “I’ll have you know that I–”

You freeze when you look in the peephole, hand hovering over the doorknob. Heart dropping to your feet, you suck in a harsh breath as if the wind is knocked out of your chest, already feeling its beat thumping against your rib cage a mile a minute.

It’s not Maggie behind the door.

It’s your mother.

Your mother who you've been ghosting for the past month.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiit.

“Know what, baby?” Rafe eggs on lazily, unbeknownst to the shit show that just began.

His voice thrusts you back to reality, stumbling back a few steps as you suck in another harsh breath, mind racing at the premature anxiety induced encounter that’s about to happen.

Your mind reels: your overly pretentious and spectacle-driven mother is behind that piece of wood. Rafe is still naked on the bed. Your mother’s been hounding you about several issues for weeks now that you've pushed to the back of your to-do list. You doesn’t have any clothes on and–

Oh, god, neither does Rafe.

You spin around as three more knocks make you jump out of your skin, locking eyes with him as you gesture to his clothes urgently.

“You need to leave.”

The complete 180 in behavior makes Rafe furrow his brows. “Wh–?”

You run over to him, grabbing his shirt and forcefully shoving it over his head and messing up his already tousled hair. “I’m not fucking around. Get dressed. Now,” you hiss stern-fully, ignoring his confused gaze because it just increasingly pisses you off more.

“Maggie will live if she sees a sliver of skin,” he begins to defend, grabbing at your waist like a toddler and frowning when you swat him off.

“Yeah, well, it’s not Maggie at the door, it’s my fucking mom. So. Get. Dressed. Now.”

Rafe has the audacity to laugh in your face.

It only makes your stomach bubble in anxiety as you huff and throw the sheet off of his legs, messily pushing his legs through the holes of his boxers and jeans to urgently usher him to do what you're asking of him. Again, he makes absolutely no effort to move, instead watching you with an amused look.

“Why are you panicking?” he asks nonchalantly as if the whole situation isn’t an anxiety attack waiting to happen. “I’m great with parents.”

“No,” you immediately warn.

“I’m, like, the parent-whisperer.”

You continue to try (and fail) at dressing him. “Not while you’re my fuck buddy. She cannot know about this.” Your head whips back and forth between the door and the boy lazily lounging, chest heaving.

It’s infuriating how relaxed he is. Rafe reaches up and pushes some hair out of your face as three more knocks break the sound barrier. “Well, baby, I’m already here.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, pressing the heels of your palm to your forehead. “Fuck. I’m not screwing around, Rafe. Get dressed.” Then, pathetically, you add, “Please.”

Three more knocks, more like pounds, snap you out of your millisecond pity party. Stepping away from Rafe, you exhale shakily and push back the same strand of hair he attempted to brush away. Your brows furrow in thought, eyes trained on the ground as you calculate your plan of attack as a silence falls between you both.

Rafe manages to stand, pulling his jeans up the rest of the way and buckling his belt. The whole time he’s obeying your command he’s frowning, unable to discern if he’s frowning at the fact that you're so worked up over a parent (or how you used his real name) or how he’s actually listening to you.

“Okay,” you say sternly after a moment, mind made up as you slowly walk towards the door with your eyes trained on him. “You’re gay.”

“What?”

“It’s the only explanation that won’t get me viscerally berated. That, or you pretend to be my boyfriend.”

“You’d rather me be gay than be your boyfriend?”

You laugh humorlessly and it makes him frown deeper. The way you don't elaborate – nor stop laughing – makes his irritation bubble out of thin air, hands clenching at his fists at the fact that you think it’s so funny for the latter to be true, as if he could never provide that for you, as if the concept is a fantasy.

But the laugh dissipates as quickly as it came, your hand ghosting over the doorknob as you point to him with a shaky finger. “Don’t play.”

Then, you open the door a crack to reveal your mother.

Paulette is the living, breathing epitome of a trophy-wife-turned-emotionless-mother. Whatever concept a PTO mom has, it’s Paulette in a nutshell.

She drips heavily in subtle designer that, undoubtedly, looks flawless and effortless, but unfathomably performative as it simply flashes people on how much money she likes to flaunt. She donates to various charities but not without announcing the act with the specific amount coat-tailed to the sob story. She likes to doll you up into her perfect mold model child, while viscerally berating you behind the curtain and nitpicking all of the things you do wrong. She likes to make fun of your style and independence and blame it on the lack of male attention in your life.

Long story short? The two of you don’t get along.

Paulette curtly says your name in greeting and it’s hardly friendly. “I’ve been standing here for ages.”

You put your body in the small crack of the door frame, doing your best to shield your mother from seeing Rafe.

“Hi. This couldn’t have been a phone call?” you ask hurriedly, sheepishly, cheeks already flaming at the periculousness of the situation.

Paulette narrows her gaze like a hawk. “Apparently not. You haven’t answered a single one of my calls.” Then, she sighs as if being here is an inconvenience. “I’m done standing here, angel. It reeks of skunk. Let me in. We need to talk.”

“But–”

“Enough,” she snaps, not giving you the chance to think before she puts a perfectly manicured hand on the door, pushing it open with such force that it causes you to stumble. “I do everything for you and you can’t even–”

Paulette pauses when she steps into the dorm room, taking in the sight of Rafe, who stands tall and lean at the edge of the bed, thankfully fully dressed.

The silence engulfs the room as the door clicks shut, you clutch your towel with a pained expression etched on your face at the scandalous scene unfolding. Paulette’s stern gaze shifts from Rafe, to the unmade bed, to your basically naked body, and back to Rafe.

You shift uncomfortably after a beat. “Uh, mom, this is–”

“Rafe,” he suddenly introduces himself, flashing Paulette a charming smile that has you frowning in confusion. Since when does he have that kind of smile on the back burner? You nearly roll your eyes when he takes a step forward, politely offering Paulette his hand to shake. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Rafe,” Paulette repeats slowly, as if phonetically sounding it out, "Cameron."

You cough awkwardly at his outstretched hand. “He’s my f–”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

Your blood runs cold as you whip your head around to stare at him. The audacity of him–

But Paulette takes his hand and shakes it firmly, making a small hum of contemplation that has you holding your breath in anticipation, in anxiety. Silence engulfs them once more.

Retracting her polished hand, Paulette studies Rafe with a curious look.

“Boyfriend?” she hums cautiously. You nearly puke. Rafe nods. Your mother says your name again accusatorially. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

Rafe doesn’t falter. Instead, he beams and dials the charm to an eleven. “I asked her a few weeks ago, so it’s pretty new. And private. We haven’t even told some of our friends yet.”

You reel. How is he this calm? How is he making this up on the spot as if it’s been rehearsed? Why does he look so damn happy? Why is your heart in your throat? Can he stop smiling like that? Because it’s making you think that he–

“Weeks?” Paulette shoots you a look. “Is that so?”

You shrink under your mother’s gaze, not trusting words so you simply nod instead.

Paulette huffs at the response, putting her hands on her hips as she glares at you with an incredulous look. “You could’ve saved me the time and patience, if you just told me.” Paulette rubs out a growing migraine.

Your irritation suddenly spikes. The condescending tone in your mother’s voice, the way Rafe’s fake smile slowly starts to fade as he further discovers the dynamic between mother and daughter, the way you're is still standing in your too-short towel– it’s all too much.

“Okay, as much as I love the reunion, what exactly are you doing here?”

Paulette looks at you as if you have two heads. Exasperated, she throws her hands up in a really? gesture, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world for you to be able to read your mother’s mind. You reciprocate the motion sarcastically.

“The wedding?”

You furrow your brows. “Wh– Jessa’s? What about it?”

Paulette then proceeds to ignore you, turning her full attention to Rafe, who’s been watching the entire conversation like a tennis match. “Has she told you about the wedding?”

Rafe’s gaze darts to you, cautiously shaking his head at your widening eyes. “Uh, no.”

You know where this is going, and panic surges to your throat.

You quickly jump to step in between your mother and Rafe.

“He’s not coming!”

The panicked tone startles all three of you, as you blink a few times and then clear your throat. You take a step back to gather yourself at the sudden outburst, but nearly jump as you bump against Rafe’s chest. There’s no escape with him right behind you and your mother right in front of you.

You've never felt more trapped. And underdressed.

Paulette raises her brow in offense at the tone of voice, at her daughter’s manic behavior, almost egging you on to continue embarrassing yourself.

Although you take a deep breath and remember the situation, finding your cool and taking a long, deep breath. That cool almost goes out the window when Rafe takes a particularly deep breath that makes his chest gently graze your back.

“Uh, well, we haven’t talked about it yet," you defend shakily, the tone so unlike your normal demeanor. "But it’s over Thanksgiving, I assume he has plans with his family.”

Then Rafe does the one thing you don't want him to do.

He fucking shrugs and opens his mouth. “I don’t have plans.”

(Actually, he does. But those plans entail trekking the long drive home, enduring a week of arguing with his dad and step-mom about ridiculous shit, drinking with his home-town friends, and spending Thanksgiving with his family where they all either pretend to like each other for one night or fight so violently that the kitchen is covered in thrown food. It’s a plan he’s been dreading, honestly.)

Paulette huffs as you feverishly blink, thinking of all the ways you can kill Rafe before you let this whole ordeal happen. Strangulation, maybe.

Your mother hums your name. “See? This all could’ve been avoided if you asked him and answered the phone.”

“Mom,” you say without thinking, voice threatening to shake with anger, “did you really come all this way to interrogate me about a date?”

Poison could be easiest, you think. It is a woman’s weapon, after all. No one would suspect if he all of a sudden had food poisoning, maybe from the dining hall or from all the food service he greedily orders. Remember when Arya–

“Interrogate is a strong word, angel,” Paulette pffts, almost mockingly. “You were the only one at Mariano’s wedding last summer without a date. Do you know how many excuses I had to make for you?”

You can’t help but scoff. Needle between the toes. “I doubt people really cared about the nuances of my love life.”

A slight ping of pain pokes your heart, knowing deep down that your mother has to hand out excuses for your lack of respect for tradition, never having a good enough suitor to bring home to the family and kickstart a life with, which is an aspect of the women’s lives that seem to matter most to these people.

It makes you want to puke.

“But now I do,” her mother retorts, gesturing to Rafe. “This time, it’ll be far less embarrassing for us.”

Stab wounds. A hundred of them.

All you can do is sigh.

Pushing him off a cliff. Cutting his dick off and leaving him to bleed out in this room. Strapping him to the roof of a car and driving it off a mountain.

As you daydream, Paulette sighs in content and claps her hands. “That settles that. Now, angel, I booked a reservation at the Hilton before Ronaldo drives me back. We need to go over your dress fitting alterations before I go since you’ve neglected to tell me your measurements. They have a good vinaigrette dressing we should try.”

“Sounds delicious,” you deadpan, but her mother either doesn’t pick up on the sarcasm or flat out ignores it. The thought of sitting alone at lunch with your mother settles a kettlebell in your gut. “Let me get dressed quick.”

“Oh, angel. You’re doing your hair and makeup too, right?” Paulette asks, the thought of you walking out in a nice outfit without doing anything to fix up your appearance being downright appalling.

You reel, this type of behavior being nothing new. Instead of snapping, you simply nod and bite her tongue. Silence is better than whatever fight a backhanded comment will cause.

Paulette exhales in relief. “I’ll wait in the car for you, it’s the Mercedes out front.” She turns towards the door then stops, offering Rafe a curt nod. “It’s nice to meet you, Rafe. I’ll see you in Italy.” Then she remembers something. “I hope you have a passport.”

Then with that, she’s out the door, leaving you and Rafe to stand in silence.

Beat.

You feel him behind you, inches away. You don't even know if you can turn around and look at him without grabbing the nearest sharpest object and shoving it in his throat or twisting and pulling his balls off like an apple off a tree.

There’s a reason you told him to avoid the whole boyfriend alias, and this being the reason.

You mother has always been keen on appearances, embracing the rather traditional gender roles in society. The women in your family thrive on the concept of a strong man to provide for his partner, for his family, and you have yet to express favor of that drastically sexist and outdated notion. The thought of pursuing a career, a life outside of relationships, is seen as selfish.

To bring someone home to meet the family means being someone who is sought after, yearned for, loved. It’s an embarrassment to be older than twenty and not introduce a partner, for whatever stupid reason, because most of the women in your family marry young, having taken advantage of their youth and sinking their talons into men who either inherit generational wealth or did the bulk of the schooling to be in the well-off positions they’re in today. Last summer, you showed up to a wedding dateless, and – according to your mother – there’s never been a more embarrassing feat for the familial image.

Once in high school, Paulette paid off a boy in your grade to go out with you for a few months so you'd have a date to her upcoming charity gala. It was your first ever boyfriend, if you can even call him that, so safe to say you have a hard time trusting people – specifically men – when it comes to dating.

Real dating.

Which is something you know Rafe cannot provide.

It doesn’t help that Rafe is a conventionally attractive man – who you have repeatedly pushed down your feelings for – who realistically is a perfect candidate in Paulette’s eyes. He’ll only fuel your mother’s instinct to flaunt her daughter’s ability to reign in someone like him: charming, rich, handsome.

Boy, Paulette will have a field day introducing someone like him to the rest of the family. It makes you want to kill him with a gun.

Breaking you from her violent thoughts, Rafe chuckles nervously behind you. “I feel like you’re mad.”

Understatement of the century there.

You scoff. “Mad? You think I’m mad?”

“Well, yeah–”

You spin around, facing him with a twitch in your eye and a quivering lip. “I’m not mad, Rafe. I’m fucking furious. I’m seconds away from throttling you right now.”

“Whoa,” he says in surprise, throwing his hands up in surrender with wide eyes, “I just did you a favor. I got her off your back.”

Rolling your eyes so hard it kickstarts a migraine, you can’t help but laugh darkly.

“Off my back,” you scoff in disbelief. Then you shake your head and walk over to the dresser, shimmying out of the towel and slipping on underwear. “Off my– You opened the biggest, grossest, evilest can of worms you could even imagine.” You clip on a bra and move towards throwing on a casual dress.

All Rafe can do is watch and attempt to defend himself, teetering between irritation and wanting to joke about the whole ordeal. “Okay, well, you didn’t really give me much of a script to go along with.”

You shimmy on the dress, looking at him incredulously. “Yes, I did!”

“I wasn’t about to play gay!”

You throw your head back, groaning. Slipping on a pair of heels he’s never seen before, your face burns incredibly hot, and it feels like your skin is on fire as his eyes don’t leave your figure.

“You had one job, Cameron. One!”

“No, it’s not–” Rafe huffs in exasperation, throwing his head back in frustration as well. The words don’t seem to come for a moment, but then he looks back at you, softer, more hesitant. “You don’t…You don’t think I can do it?”

“Do…what?”

“Be one? A boyfriend?”

Oh, the laugh you let out is audacious, as if the entire concept is the biggest comedic joke on planet earth. Apparently, the thought of it is hysterical because it makes you double over, damn near clutching your pearls as you howl.

The sound pisses him off, and he can’t help but scoff at the utter display of mockery. “What the fuck is so funny?”

Is he kidding?

“Rafe,” you spat incrediously as you come down from your laughter, “zoom out for a second. There’s no way you’re going to convince anybody, and it’s not like I’m gonna be any better.”

There’s a pause between the two of you, and you can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears as he clenches his jaw, looking at you as if you've just offended his entire bloodline. No matter how hard he pouts or if he really snaps his jaw, he has to know that’s the gospel truth, otherwise he’d be an idiot.

Although the sight makes you confused, but you blame your sudden dizziness on the previous interaction with your mother because there’s no way he’s getting upset about this right now. He has to know this is hilarious, right?

It’s only the truth: Rafe Cameron has repeatedly told you that he doesn’t do relationships, only holding short-term girlfriends back home when it was all the rage, that he can’t picture himself being tied to one girl forever. The thought was completely unheard of for him.

Maybe after college, is what he told you one day as you both lounged lazily, I’ll really start thinking about it. He had said that right before kissing you.

Rafe unclenches his jaw and narrows his gaze at you in calculation, either soaking in your words or coming up with his next rebuttal. Whatever it is, he thinks about it very carefully so that it leaves you waiting in anticipation.

“I could convince people,” he says cautiously, more to himself. “Totally. I could.” Rafe unclenches his fists, then whispers, “You really think I’d be that bad at it?”

The slight hesitation in his voice halts your movements, and you put your hands on your hips. “Give me a break. That’s not what this is about.”

Rafe’s shoulders sag. “Then what?” The sudden disposition makes you want to scream.

Why does he care so much?

“You’re… You’re just not coming.”

“Wh–” Rafe starts, reeling in confusion.

You shush him with a pointed finger. “No. You’re not. You’re gonna have the flu, or something. Maybe an incurable disease. I haven’t decided yet.” You sit down at your desk and hurriedly curl your eyelashes. “Whatever it is, it’ll be so badly…bad that you won’t be able to go, or even lift a finger.”

Rafe can’t help the twitch of his lip curling up into a smirk. “Is that a threat, baby?”

“Don’t baby me, right now. I’m not your baby.”

“Sorry, baby.”

“Seriously, Cameron. I’m about to twist and pull your balls off.”

Fully grinning, Rafe finds himself moving from his vantage point, sauntering over to the desk and resting his hands on your shoulders as he leans down close to her ear. You ignore the thump of your heartbeat, figuring it’s the aftermath of such an anxiety inducing conversation with its best kickstarter: your mother.

“Like an apple,” you emphasize with a gesture of plucking an apple off a tree in an attempt to regulate your dizziness from his close proximity, “just twist and pull them right off.”

Rafe rubs gentle circles in your muscle tensions, clearly finding the whole thing amusing. Prick. “You done?”

The relaxed tone makes you roll your eyes. “On second thought? You’d probably be into that. Freak.”

“You know me so well, hm, baby?”

“Nice try.” The honey in his voice almost makes you falter. Almost. “You’re still not coming.”

His thumbs massage the knots as he shrugs nonchalantly. “I dunno. It seems like it’ll be fun.”

You pause putting on mascara, looking at him through the mini mirror in disbelief. “Fun?” He shrugs again which makes you raise a brow. That's not the word you'd use, frankly. “You haven’t met my family.”

“I can totally woo them over. We already have so much chemistry.”

“The only time we’re not arguing is when we’re fucking.”

“I’ve never been to Italy,” he sighs dreamily, straying away from the point. “Been to Spain, Greece, France. But never Italy. I’ve always wanted to go.”

“No.”

“The food, the girls, the history.”

“No.”

“You’re really depriving me of my dream?”

“Yes,” you hiss, finishing your touches to your requested makeup. “Besides, I doubt you’ll be able to find a flight for next week.”

Rafe furrows his brows in confusion. “Jesus. The celebration’s a week long?”

You sigh irritatedly, moving to brush through your hair. He frowns at how aggressively you rip through the snarls. “No. The wedding’s two days after Thanksgiving.”

“Why are you going so early?”

A flicker of panic rises in your throat as you pause, moving to say something but stopping yourself. The last thing you want is Rafe Cameron weaseling himself into your life. It feels intrusive and oddly personal, and it suddenly dawns on you that you don't even know his middle name. Or if he even has one.

The thought of knowing more about him makes you nervous. But the thought of him knowing more about you makes your stomach churn queasily.

So you simply settle on a nonchalant shrug. “I just am.”

The tone makes him frown. “So, what? You’re just gonna dick around Italy for a week beforehand? Alone?”

“No.” You hate that he’s staring at you with those bright blue eyes, waiting for more, and you hate providing more.

Rafe notices your apprehension, squeezing your shoulders. “Hey,” he says firmly, slightly irritated that he has to beg but refusing to say please. “Answer me.”

“You’re pushy when you don’t get what you want.”

“Sweet girl,” he warns, thumbs massaging circles.

You sigh, knowing he won’t let up until you give him what he wants. Fucking brat, you think. “I’m staying with my nonna,” you admit softly. “Well, she’s not technically my grandmother but she practically raised my dad, so, she basically acts like his mother. She lives in the countryside.”

Rafe pauses his movements, studying your face in the small mirror where you refuse to meet his eye, that one snippet of her personal life taking out a chunk of her dignity. Your gaze is hard, purposefully focused on doing your hair.

He finds himself frowning at the notion that you found it difficult to tell him such a simple thing. More often than not, wants to shake you like a tree to make the fruit fall, to make you tell him more snippets of your life, information he’s been yearning to know but too afraid to ask about.

Well, for fucks sake, you've been sleeping together for three months. God forbid he wants to know a little about you.

“That’s…nice,” he whispers cautiously.

You notice his sullen expression in the mirror, finishing up your hair so you can spin around in the chair and face him. His hands go to rest on the top of the chair as his piercing blues meet your eyes. He looks so fucking pretty right now that you grip the chair to refrain from forgetting the past ten minutes and dragging him back in bed.

Instead, you furrow your brows to try and mask you appreciation for his annoyingly pretty face, studying his expression, trying to look deeper in his eyes to search for anything other than honesty but coming up short.

You both stare at each other for a few moments, trying to gauge the other before you tap out, blinking out of whatever daze you were trapped in.

“Why don’t you have any Thanksgiving plans?”

Rafe shrugs. “I do.”

“Then why–?”

“If you had to choose between hanging out in Italy or having a week-long screaming match with your entire family, what’d you pick?”

That shuts you up.

Fuck. You look up at him with determined curiosity, trying to read between the lines of if he’s doing all of this simply to escape the horrors of his own family, or if he feels compelled to because your mother was standing five feet in front of him, or if he truly loves getting off on torturing you. Whatever the real reasoning is, the anger slowly starts fizzling out of your fiery chest and instead is replaced with calculation.

There is some potential for his presence. He could provide a shield for Paulette’s usual torture. Then, again, he could also fuel it.

“If I let you come,” you start slowly, which makes him stand straighter, “you’ll have to convince them and you need to behave. Especially in front of my nonna.”

Rafe nods, pathetically obedient.

You raise a brow. “I mean it.”

He manages a small smirk. “Did I mention I’m great with grandparents, too?”

You rolls your eyes so hard it hurts. You sit up straight and put a hand over his to make sure he understands what he’s getting himself into. “Excluding her, my family is fucking horrible, Cameron. Like, White Lotus pretentious. They’re rich and obnoxious, can’t mind their fucking business, painfully sexist, and can be everything under the sun that is synonymous to that. I need you to know what you’re getting yourself into. This isn’t a fucking playdate.”

And I’m probably going to be miserable the whole time I’m with them, you want to add, but refrain.

But Rafe only snorts at the irony. He’s been putting up with people like that his entire life.

“And my nonna is gonna put you to work,” you add with raised brows. “She’s going to make you carry shit around, tend to her garden, do a bunch of stuff to prove to her that you’re good for me. She doesn’t play around with me.”

“Baby,” he says, running his tongue over his bottom lip, “I’m about to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

You snort, turning back to the mirror to last minute check over your features, hoping the results will suffice your mother's high expectations. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be hard,” you mutter, not seeing the way he frowns.

Standing, you smooth over your dress and grab your purse and jacket with a deep breath. Truly, you need to calm yourself down before you crashes out in front of him.

You don't want to admit it, but having him parade around the wedding pretending to be your boyfriend will probably make your life a little easier.

It’ll most likely stop making you feel like a constant disappointment to your mother for a good week, probably the only week of your life where you'll feel an ounce of your mother’s approval. It’s pathetic, you already know, to seek out affection through a lie, and the thought of telling this reasoning to Rafe will not only embarrass you further, but will give him fuel to make fun of you.

It's despicable that you probably can't earn your mother’s love and respect on your own – without a man – but frankly you're sick and tired of feeling like a constant outcast. Perhaps this will finally get your mother to start being proud of your other feats now that the boyfriend question is out of the picture, like for starters, your academic career.

Whilst you wallow in your scheming pity party, Rafe follows you to the door like a puppy, a newfound sense of determination glossed over his features.

“No, you just wait, sweet girl,” he murmurs to no one in particular. “I’m going to be the best fucking boyfriend anyone’s ever seen, show all those other assholes up. I’m gonna hold doors open for you and shit.”

(There’s a tiny part of him that, also, wants to make this experience for you as easy as it can be, because after seeing the tumultuous tension between you and your mother based off of one brief encounter, Rafe can already tell that you were originally going to have a hard time at the wedding all alone. If he can offer even an ounce of consolation or support for you, he’ll take it.)

“Sure, Cameron. Now be a good boyfriend and walk me to the car.”

Rafe fights a smile, excited to start proving himself.

note this is my first time ever posting on tumblr and i still don't really understand the site (i.e. requests and communities and things like that). hope you enjoyed!

#rafe cameron #salem-s works #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe outer banks #outerbanks #reader insert #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut

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iluvmattsbeard · 8 months ago

Text

down on my knees (m.s)

master list

nerd!matt x popular!reader

warnings: smut/oral sex (fem receiving)

preview: you assume matt is what he appears to be. a virgin nerd with no experience. when helping you study, you have him down on his knees, pleading to prove to you, he can take you there.

a/n: sorry i watched deadpool and wolverine. this song with the scene had me creaming. listen as you read. OKAY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS. LIKES, COMMENTS, AND REBLOGS ARE SO APPRECIATED. 🤍

everyone knew who you were. when your name is spoken, it's always the same thing said. you basically had a trance on everyone, especially a specific individual. this person would freeze up more than anyone else when you're around. the hold you have on this person is unbearable, even though you've never spoke to each other. the school's biggest nerd and easy target, Matt Sturniolo. it was no shock you haven't spoke to him. you never even blinked an eye at him. you two were in two different worlds, you had no business ever speaking to him and he for sure felt like he had no place to even be near you.

it's not like you choose to not know who he is. he doesn't put himself out there, he has no friends, and he's always just quiet. the only friends he had were his triplet brothers. you knew who Chris was because of his reputation in sports and you knew Nick because he was the talk of the school ever since he came out. like mentioned, Matt was absolutely hooked onto you. when you would enter the classroom, he feels his palms sweat and his eyes are glued onto you like he's seen an angel from heaven.

despite what everyone says about you, how mean, how stuck up, and how careless you can be, in his head, you're more than that. he blocks out all the negativity said about you and in his head, he has some delusion that he could figure you out. he feels deep down, there's more to you than your rough persona.

right now, it was lunch time. Matt is sat with his brothers and their friends. Chris and Nick, despite how different they are from Matt, they've always vowed to never let Matt be alone. they try to include him in everything but, he chooses to sit there in silence. he knew deep down he didn't fit in and it's obvious his brothers' friends also knew that.

he sits there quietly as he pokes at his food. his attention is soon caught, it's like he has a radar, he looks up slightly as you walk past their table. you were with your friends, talking to them as you head over to your table. for Matt, it was all in slow motion as you walked by. he swears he can see your skin glisten and the way your hair bounced, he was in a trance. "dude." he instantly gets brought back to reality when he hears Chris' voice, "you're staring- again." Matt looks back down at his food as he swallows slightly, "was I?" he asks quietly, a bit embarrassed he's been caught. this wasn't the first time though.

"yes. what is your obsession with her? you've never even spoke to her." Chris utters with a bit of food in his mouth. Matt looks at him with a bit of disgust, "can you swallow your food first?" Matt suggests, which makes Chris chuckle and swallow his food. "okay well, what is your obsession with her?" he repeats his question, "you've never talked to her and trust me, she's way out of your league." he adds on, making Matt tense up a bit. it was true, he really didn't belong in your world. it would make no sense, the two of you colliding. "i'd save yourself the heart break." Chris speaks up again.

"how would you know?" Matt mutters, making the brother raise an eyebrow slightly, "how do I know what?" he asks confused. "how do you know she would break my heart? if I haven't even tried?" Matt asks stupidly. he knew the answer already but once again, a little part of him believes he could break down your walls if he just had the confidence. Chris laughs at his question, "no offence but, look at you." he pauses glancing over at me, "now look at her. she would crush you." he finishes as he stuffs his mouth again. there was no point in Matt continuing this conversation. Matt looks over at you and sighs. "heaven help me." he thought to himself.

later that day, Matt walks into his final class, which to his delight, you were in. he makes his way to the back of the class, sitting down in his usual seat. he begins to take out his notebook and textbook as he lets out a quiet breath. you walk in, once again, Matt's eyes land on you and he blocks out everything else. as he watches your every move, he expects you to just walk to your usual seat in the front. he then sees you walk down his aisle, he swears he's just imagining things. you're looking right at him, making his heart stop. eventually, he gets knocked from his trance as you sit in the seat next to him.

"no one sits here right?" you ask Matt, not even looking over at him. he gulps as he begins to speak up, "n-no." he manages to let out. Matt shuts his eyes and turns to face the front. he feels like he sounded like a loser. you sit there silently as you secretly go on your phone while the class starts. Matt can't help but take small glances at you. he felt nervous even though you were just minding your own business. "what is going on?" he thought to himself. why were you suddenly sitting in the back? right next to him? he shakes off the questions as he tries his best to focus on the teacher's voice.

as days go by, Matt notices you continuing to choose to sit in the back, right next to him. it was like a dream but, still no words exchanged between you two but the first day you sat there. where he thought he sounded like an idiot, even though all he said was no to your question. Matt sits there quietly, he notices you dozed off into your arms as the teacher speaks. he can’t help but look at you in admiration. you looked peaceful; sleeping angel like. you flutter your eyes open, catching his gaze as you whisper groggily, "were you just watching me sleep?" you ask sitting up. his eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "what- no- I was just- nervous for you." he lets out panicked. you laugh quietly while you shake your head, "relax, it was just a question." you say surprisingly okay with catching him just now.

Matt feels his heart racing as he lets out an exhale of relief. "did I miss anything important?" you ask looking at him. was this really happening? were you really actually trying to have a conversation with him? "u-uh... not really." he mutters nervously. "okay that's good. i'm like very behind in this class." you say which, it's like the teacher heard you, the teacher speaks up, "Y/n, Matt, I need to talk to you both at the end of the class." Mr. Lionel says. you groan quietly before speaking up, "okay..." Matt's head is racing. why did he have to speak to the both of you? the BOTH of you...

when the final bell rings, you and Matt get up at the same time, heading over to the front of the class. you both stop in front of Mr. Lionel's desk as you let out a sigh, "what's it about?" you ask not enthused at all. he clears his throat, "well, Y/n, i'm sure you're aware that your grade in this class isn't the best." he starts off, "Matt here, can help you bring that grade up if you're willing." you look over at Matt, your eyes trailing down his figure slowly. he gulps as he watches you analyze him, "what is she thinking?" he thought to himself.

you look back at your teacher before nodding and speaking up, "alright." if Matt's heart was racing before, it is now bouncing off the walls. alright? that's all you had to say? no argument?

Mr. Lionel looks over at Matt, "you okay with that Matt?" he asks, snapping him back to reality, "what? uh- y-yeah." Matt responds sheepishly, his cheeks a bit flustered. "great. you two speak to each other and come up with an arrangement that's good for the both of you." the teacher says, making you both nod. he greets you and Matt goodbye, Matt instantly walking out the classroom. he can't believe he was just assigned to tutor you, and YOU agreed. he continues walking down the hall before he hears his name being called.

"Matt!" he turns around quickly before locking eyes on you, heading over to catch up to him. he freezes in his place as he stutters out, "y-yeah?" he feels like his heart can't catch a break. "you want to come over tonight?" you ask so casually. meanwhile, Matt feels like he's about to explode. "w-what?" he asks a bit dazed. "to study." you add on with a small laugh. he blinks repeatedly before having the courage to respond, "yes!" he clears his throat, "yes... I would like that." he says, trying to push down his eagerness. "okay. give me your phone." you say, no question, he instantly pulls out his phone, fumbling a bit before he hands it to you.

you type in your number and send yourself a text so that you can receive his number as well. you hand back his phone before pulling out your own, "alright i'll text you the address. come over at like 5. that's when my parents aren't home." you say making him choke up, "w-what?" Matt asks nervously but you just wave at him and walk away.

as he gets in his car, he sits there still in disbelief. it's like his prayers have been answered. he also doesn't want to get his hopes up though. it's just tutoring, right? he's still confused by why you wanted him there without your parents home. it made his heart race once more. he gets pulled out from his thoughts as Chris and Nick stumble into the mini van. Matt clears his throat as he puts on his seat belt, "can you drive me to the mall later?" Chris asks as he puts on his own seat belt. "can't." Matt says bluntly, his younger brother's eyes widening slightly, "what- why?" he asks caught off guard. "i'm going to tutor someone later." Matt says, sparing the details but, that's all Chris had to know to not question even further. it's no surprise to him that Matt has to tutor someone. Matt was the smartest person he knew.

*time skip*

after spraying some cologne on himself, he walks out his room and out the house. when he's settled into the driver's seat, he pulls out his phone and puts your address into the GPS. he was still replaying your words earlier about how your parents would be out. his hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as he makes his way to your house.

when he's arrived, he takes the key out of the ignition. he lets out a small sigh, his heart pounding at the fact he's actually about to be with you, alone. he gets out the car and makes his way up your pathway. he rings the doorbell, waiting anxiously as he looks around. nice house he thought to himself. after a bit, you open the door. Matt's eyes immediately running down your figure. you were in a matching pajama set. his heart stops, he was now feeling self conscious at the fact he's wearing a button up shirt. "hey, come in." you say as you open the door more for him to walk in. he steps inside nervously as he looks around. "come, my room is upstairs." you speak, already heading up the stairs. he follows closely behind you.

*time skip*

you both have been sat on your bed as you lay on your stomach, flipping through the text book. "s-so... do you understand it?" Matt asks, hoping he's done a good job at explaining the subject. you look at him with a blank expression, "no." you let out bluntly, a small laugh following afterwards. "o-oh well- I can explain it again-." he gets cut off by you, "no it's fine. this is hopeless." you sigh softly, closing your text book. "my brain hurts." you add on. Matt sits there, tensing up a bit as he clears his throat, "oh- w-well... maybe some other time." he says closing his text book. you two have been going over the subject for like a hour.

"you're leaving?" you ask curiously. Matt looks at you as he stuffs his textbook into his bag, "um... well I was assuming you were done..." he admits quietly. "oh I just thought we were taking a break." you chuckle, "but alright." he straightens up as he quickly chimes in, "oh that works too." not wanting to leave just yet. you sit up, now legs crossed as you look at him, "so... why did you want me over while your parents are gone?" he asks, gulping a bit. "no distractions." you respond casually. he was amazed by how easily you can speak. he feels like he has a lump in his throat. "do you always wear those button up shirts to tutor?" you ask tilting your head a bit. "uh... no- but- I just wanted to wear something nice." he stutters out nervously. did you think it was bad? your eyes trail over his shirt, "it's nice. suits you." you compliment. he didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. "dressing up for me or something?" you ask. "u-uh well- kind of- yes..." he sighs in defeat.

"that's sweet." you say with no emotion in your voice. "did you think this was going to go somewhere?" you ask bluntly. his eyes widen a bit, "what? what's that supposed to mean?" he asks a bit startled. "like were you expecting something out of this?" you ask, "like a handy or a blowjob or what?" the question makes his eyes widen even more, "what? of course not!" he responds panicked, "t-that's not- I- I wasn't even thinking that." he says flustered. you chuckle softly, "i'm just messing with you." you say before going on your phone, "you don't even seem like the type." you conclude. he's caught off guard, "w-what's that supposed to mean?" he asks. you look up from your phone and meet his gaze, "you don't seem like the type to do that stuff. I mean-" you pause putting your phone down, "do you even have experience?" you ask. "well... not exactly..." he admits embarrassed by the confession.

"see? I knew it." you let out a small humorous scoff. "I-I guess I just haven't had the time..." he says, trying to seem like he's too busy to gain experience, and not because he's a total loser. you raise an eyebrow slightly, "oh so it's not by choice?" you ask, not really believing it as you stand up and put your textbook back into your bag. he stays quiet for a bit before speaking up, "yeah no... just too busy for it..." he says quietly. you let out a small snark with a small grin, "yeah okay." you respond still not buying it. Matt has this sudden urge to fight back, he also knew you weren't buying it so he makes a move he never expected to make, "I mean I have the time now." he utters, making him widen his eyes a bit. you look up at him as you tilt your head slightly, "oh so you did come here expecting something." you say, crossing your arms. "no! no... but- forget it." he mumbles embarrassed as he picks up his bag.

you sit at the edge of the bed as you speak up, "no. go ahead. since you have time." you say, not having very high expectations. he freezes in his spot as he looks at you, "w-what?" he asks with his heart pounding. "you heard me." you say, propping your arms back behind you slightly. he puts his bag down slowly as he steps in front of you. he looks down at you as you tilt your head a bit. you blink up at him, waiting for his move, not amused. Matt then slowly gets on his knees, your eyes follow him, now looking down at him. he places his hands nervously on the waistband of your pajama shorts. he looks up at you and back down at his hands as he begins to slide your shorts down slowly, revealing your white lace panties. his breath hitches in his throat as he continues to pull them down your silky legs, now leaving you in just your panties. he takes a moment to admire you in front of him as he begins to kiss your inner thighs slowly and softly, making you roll your eyes a bit at how slow he's being. he then trails those kisses up, placing a soft kiss on your clothed cunt, your eyes watching him closely. he then kisses up your stomach, his face now stopped in front of your face.

he swallows before placing his lips onto yours, everything was slow and you kiss him back. after a bit, you pull away, "okay um. I don't think this is going to work." you say about to sit up completely but he stops you. he gets back onto his knees, now yanking your panties down. you gasp slightly by the sudden action as he takes in the sight of you bare. he grips under your thighs as he pulls you closer to his face. your heart begins to race by his sudden anticipation and change of demeanor. his mouth was so close to your core, you can feel his breath against it. Matt gulps as he glances up at you, then looking back down at your folds. "heaven help me." he thinks to himself before diving his tongue into you. at first, you weren't feeling it, you sort of felt bad for his lack of experience but then, he begins to suck on your clit, making you sit up and look down at him. your mouth slowly falling open, surprised by his action. he continues to suck on your clit, you feel yourself getting wet as he works his mouth. your breath began to hitch as he ran his tongue up your now slick folds.

he flattens out his tongue, continuing his upward motion. you gasp softly, quickly biting your lip. you didn't expect to be enjoying this. he darts his tongue in and out of your entrance, making you moan out a bit louder than you expected. he looks up at you as he melts against your wet folds. he watches as you crumble above him. he swirls his tongue around your clit, making you throw your head back at the sensation, "M-Matt." you moan out. the sound of his name rolling of your tongue made him go insane. the way you moan, it was like an angelic sound in his ears. he moves his tongue against your clit, side to side as you gasp, gripping his hair with your eyes shut. he begins to suck on your slit again as he unexpectedly pushes a finger into you. "f-fuck!" you moan out as he pumps his finger, while still sucking on your clit. his eyes still on you, he knows he's doing this right.

you buck your hips up slightly, starting to feel your legs shake a bit, you have never experienced pleasure like this before. Matt pulls his finger out of you as he grips your thighs, holding them in place roughly. you let out a small whimper. the feeling of his tongue was sort of overpowering. he groans against your folds, sending vibrations through out your body. his hands grip your thighs harder as he dives his mouth in deeper. he was completely in the moment, the taste of your juices on his tongue, making him want more and more. he continues darting his tongue into you, wet noises filling the room. "you're so wet." he mumbles against you, lapping his tongue up your folds. you grip his hair a bit harder as you continue to moan. you couldn't believe the school's biggest nerd is in between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it.

he then flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit as he looks up at you. you gasp once again, eyes darting down at him, "how was he so good at this?" you thought to yourself. he then pushes two fingers this time into you, catching you off guard. he pumps his slender fingers in and out at a quick motion as he swirls his tongue sloppily. you arch your back as you grip the sheets above you, "fuck Matt!" you moan loudly, making him ache in between your legs. this only drives him to go faster, pumping his fingers into you even faster as he sucks on your clit. the combination combines make your stomach swirl, "Matt i'm gonna-." you let out shakily as you arch your back even more, your eyes clenched shut, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as you experience the best orgasm you've ever had. you release all over his mouth as he keeps his mouth on you.

your legs shake as he continues to eat you out, despite you already releasing. he grips your thighs hard as he watches you shake uncontrollably under his touch. you swear you could now see stars as he groans against you once more. you push his head away as you look down at him in shock.

he licks his lips and his cheeks are flustered. you stare at him in disbelief as you try to catch up with your breathing. his eyes dart back down to your messy wet core as he looks back up at you, “h-how was that?” he asks shyly. “how could he act so shy after that?” you thought to yourself. he’s still on his knees as he waits for your response. it irritated you slightly at how much you enjoyed it, especially because you were so confident he would be terrible at it. when you finally calm down your breathing, you sit up and look down at him.

“what do you think?” you ask in disbelief. he feels his face heat up as he scratches the back of his neck, “uh…” he chuckles breathlessly, “good?” he questions. you push his glasses back up slowly as they were resting at the tip of his nose, “let’s just say, you are not what you seem.” you let out still in shock.

a/n: nerd matt has my heart.

tags! (comment if you want to be added)

@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nicksgirlfriend @mwahsturns @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24 @strnlxlqve @sturncakez @sturnioloremarker @3lizaluvs @lanaswifeyy @dirtylittleheart333 @luzsturniolo @sturnpooks @sturnioq @c6ina @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @sweetangelgirl7 @fratbrochrisgf @l0vergrlll @deadiish @dykes4chris @blahbel668 @sturnfannn @schlutt4matty @scarlett-or-wtv @suyqa @strtrckrz @sturniluvr @alexisxena @fratboychrisera @unhingedrobin @edgemaster696

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