Nobody wants to talk about it but fanfics are dying!!
I’ve read fanfics since 2018 and have everyday since then they’re is no more creativity at all and I’m scared for it I want to encourage people to start writing more and and if you want to start but scared just do it they will get better I promise and the people who used to make fics pick it back up again if you want to I really hope people will see this post and boost it please we need to bring attention to it I can’t be the only one who thinks it it’s all just smut and no story anymore
Summary: You and your fellow South Park writers arrive at your latest retreat in Aspen, Colorado. You quickly discover you don't have anywhere to sleep for the week, which forces you to bunk with the one person at the retreat you can't stand.
Warning: NSFW, fingering (f receicving), language, mirror sex. (if i missed any, plz let me know!)
Word Count : 2,896
A/N : omg hi guys. my first time writing for matt, so please be kind. i am (obviously) more of a trey girlie, but i can't deny how FINE matt is. something about him makes me think he'd be downright cruel in the sheets and highkey, i respect and want that. also, i wrote this literally at one in the morning, so if there are any typos, plz forgive me haha. anyways, enjoy!
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Normally, I loved our writer’s retreats. It was nice to get a change of scenery and to throw around show ideas in a stress-free environment. We seemed to come up with some of our best stuff on these retreats, when we were allowed to dick around. I owed most of my thanks to Trey. Bill put it best when he said he was like our father, dragging us to these lame outings no one else seemed interested in besides him. But it got us talking to each other, trying to get laughs to help ease the boredom we all felt.
But this latest retreat was hell on Earth. My own personal purgatory.
My other boss, the other co-creator of South Park, the one who seemed to hate my guts for no reason, had to come along on this trip. Of course, Matt never missed a retreat, but I still hoped he would miss this one.
It started innocently enough, no different from our other retreats. Trey and Matt had paid for all of us to spend a week up in Aspen, Colorado. We had lots of skiing, snowboarding, and ice skating planned, but we still set aside time for our liminal-pressure brainstorm sessions. They had rented out an entire ski resort for the week, allowing us to have full control over the place.
It was like letting a bunch of kids run free in a candy store. Most of the writers being California natives, had never seen snow. Half of us spent a solid half hour engaged in a very intense snowball fight as Trey and Matt made sure everything was set inside the resort. Eventually, we all went inside to get our room assignments. I lingered in the back of the lobby, shaking out the leftover snow from my hair. I made sure to listen to Trey as he read out the room assignments. When he got to the end of the list and still didn’t read aloud my name, I panicked.
As the other writers and other South Park crew began to find their partner and haul their luggage to their rooms, I slowly walked up to my two bosses. I felt the words die in my throat as I hopelessly watched Trey leave Matt’s side, going to lead his wife and child to their room for the week. I swallowed nervously as Matt’s green eyes shot daggers into me. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at me expectantly.
“I didn’t get a room assignment, Matt.” I said softly. I hated the way he made me feel so embarrassed and unsure of myself each time we spoke. I knew he was the more cynical of the two, but he seemed to take it to the extreme whenever we interacted.
“And you’re telling me this because…?” He said, rolling his eyes like he couldn’t be bothered.
I huffed, trying to keep my emotions in check. I had to remind myself he was still my boss, I had to behave professionally. Whether I liked it or not, I owed him my career. “I’m telling you this because according to Trey’s list, I have no where to sleep for the next week.”
He gave me a sick smile, like he was somehow pleased with my predicament. His eyes did a once-over on me before settling back on my face. “There’s always the lobby. Those couches sure look comfy, Y/N.”
“What about showering and changing and going to the bathroom and-”
He cut me off by holding his hand out, a soft groan leaving his lips. He looked over his shoulders, his frown deepening when he saw we were alone. He couldn’t pass me off to anyone else. Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, another groan leaving his lips. “Get your shit and come with me.”
I froze in place as I watched him slowly walk away. He wasn’t suggesting what I thought he was, was he?
Matt turned around, annoyance flaring in his eyes when he saw I was still idle. “Don’t make me repeat myself. You have two seconds to come with me before I change my mind.”
And all of that led me here, sharing a room with the boss I didn’t admire, with the boss who hated me. There were two beds in his room, thank god. So, I wouldn’t have the embarrassment of sharing a bed with him.
We had arrived in Aspen just after eight pm, so most of us were turning in for the night after a day of travel. I sat on my bed, holding my knees close to my chest as I watched the small TV in front of our beds. Matt was in the bathroom, getting ready for the night. He hadn’t said more than two words to me since he had begrudgingly agreed to let me stay with him. I tugged down the material of the frilly shorts I wore, cursing at myself for packing such stupid pajamas. I had hoped I’d be bunking with one of my friends on the writing team, ideally Erica or Pam. I had planned to be surrounded by my friends, women I trusted, not my much older, grumpy, annoyingly handsome boss.
The sound of the bathroom fan shutting off and the door opening broke my focus. My head towards the hall, watching as Matt sauntered into the main part of the room in nothing but a pair of low hanging, grey sweatpants. I felt my cheeks heat up as my eyes raked over his toned chest and abs. They trailed down his body, stopping just below the top of his pants, where his happy trail disappeared under the waistband. Why did the bastard have to be so fucking good looking?
Matt cleared his throat, forcing my eyes back to his face. He looked unamused. “If you’re finished fucking undressing me with your eyes, would you shut off the TV? I wanna get some sleep.”
I was positive I was bright red as I nodded, reaching for the remote and shutting off the TV. I crawled back up my bed, towards the headboard. My eyes flitted to the mirror beside our beds, not expecting to lock eyes with Matt. He was standing by his bed, throwing open the covers so he could crawl inside. I swallowed, forcing my eyes away as I also got under the covers. I breathed out a soft sigh of relief when Matt turned off the light, letting the room be covered in darkness. It was easier to get him out of my thoughts when I couldn’t see him.
I laid on my back, looking up at the ceiling, trying to make out the markings in the wood through the black veil of the darkness. Matt’s soft, steady breathing was the only thing that filled my ears as I continued to try to make out the wood in the dark.
“This is gonna be fucking impossible, you know that right?” Matt suddenly said, his low, baritone voice filling the quiet room.
I turned my head to the side, making out his silhouette on his bed in the darkness. Even though he couldn’t see it, I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sharing a room with you.” He said gruffly. “I can’t believe I got stuck with you.”
I sat up, turning to face him completely. “You know, I’m not exactly pleased to be sharing a room with you. But unlike you, I’m not constantly reminding you that and making you feel like shit. I’m actually trying to make this work, Matt.”
“How? By wearing shorts so fucking short that I can practically see your ass? Yeah, that’s making things real easy for me, Y/N.” He let out a dark chuckle as he turned towards me too. Even in the near pitch black room, I could still see his green eyes piercing into me.
“Oh really? What about you? Don’t you own a fucking shirt?” I spat back, throwing the covers off my body, allowing me to crawl off the bed. As I stood, I flicked on my bedside lamp, filling the room with a warm glow.
He followed suit, getting out of his own bed and meeting me in the middle of the two, standing in front of me. He practically towered over me, forcing me to tilt my chin up to meet his fiery gaze. “You should watch your mouth.” He warned.
“Or what? What the hell are you gonna do?” I challenged, taking a step towards him. I looked him up and down, sizing him up. “You gonna kick me out? Make me sleep out in the lobby? Trust me, I’m about ready to do that myself.”
“Why can’t you ever shut up? You just run your fucking mouth, not even caring what it does to me.” He said through his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he took another step towards me.
The space between us was almost nonexistent now, but I was too angry to care. “Oh, did I hurt your precious, little feelings? I’m sure you’re used to the other writers kissing the ground you walk on, treating you like some god. But I will never, ever do that, Matt. You wanna know why? It’s because I cannot fucking stand yo-”
My words died in my throat as Matt’s hand grabbed ahold of my face, bringing his lips down to mine, pulling me into a blazing, searing kiss. I froze, my eyes widening. Out of all of the outcomes that could have occurred from my outburst, that was at the absolute bottom of my list. I couldn’t deny that he was a good kisser. Actually, a fucking amazing kisser. Whatever hatred I held for him subtly changed into need as I slowly melted into the kiss, my eyes closing as I draped my arms over his neck. His hands moved from my face down to my waist, gripping them tightly as he pulled me even closer to him. I tangled my fingers in his soft curls, tugging them gently as his tongue ran across my bottom lip.
Just as quickly as he had lowered his lips, he pulled them away. We stared at each other for a solid minute, breathless and burning. He swallowed once, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He spoke in a soft, ragged voice, “I told you to shut up, Y/N. But you never fucking listen, do you?”
Before I could respond, he pushed me back onto my bed, the one closest to the mirror. A gasp left my lips as my back hit the mattress. He lowered himself over me, crawling up my body, looking at me like I was his last meal. He ran a single hand up my thigh, over my clothed pussy. I instinctively shut my legs, clamping my thighs around his hand. He chuckled darkly, shaking his head disapprovingly.
“You know, those shorts aren’t doing you any favors. I can feel how fucking wet you are for me, Y/N.” He said softly, his face inches above mine. “If only I knew I could just fuck the brattiness out of you, I would have done it a long time ago.”
Refusing to fully surrender to him, I sat up, pushing him away from me. “You are such a fucking tool.”
Matt cocked his head to the side,a somewhat amused smile on his lips as he stood up. He circled the bed, moving to the other side. Before I could stop him, he grabbed a hold of my wrist, yanking me towards him at the edge of the bed. He sat down behind me, easily maneuvering me so I was settled between his legs, positioning us to face the mirror in front of the bed. I looked over my shoulder at him, trying to piece together what he was doing. But he put his fingers under my chin, forcing my gaze back to the mirror. We locked eyes in the glass, his green eyes boring into mine.
“You said you can’t stand me, right?” He said softly in my ear, his breath fanning across my neck. “I wanna put that to the test.”
My eyes flitted down to stare at his hand in the mirror. He ran a hand up my thigh again, slipping it under my pajama shorts, toying with my throbbing heat through the thin material of my panties.
“You’re going to watch me make your pretty, little pussy cum all over my fingers and I’ll be able to tell if you really “can’t stand me” after that.” He murmured in my ear just as his hand dipped under my panties.
I gasped as I felt his finger run along my slit before he inserted two fingers, curling them softly. My head fell back, resting on his shoulder, my eyes fluttering shut. His other hand grabbed a hold of my jaw, forcing my gaze back to the mirror.
“Watch.” He hissed in my ear as he curled his fingers up again. Our eyes locked in the mirror and I felt myself tighten around his fingers as I saw how dark his green eyes had turned in a matter of minutes. “I swear to God, if you look away one more time, I’m going to spank you until you’re fucking sobbing.”
As enticing as that sounded, I didn’t want to push my luck tonight. I nodded softly, forcing my eyes on his as he continued to gently curl and pump his fingers out of my weeping hole. Before I could get too lost in his touch, he removed his fingers, making me whine in response.
“I wanna see you. Take off those fucking shorts.” He ordered in my ear.
I kept my eyes on his as I lifted my hips off the mattress. He reached down, helping me pull my shorts and panties down my legs. He threw them across the room. Matt put both of his hands on my thighs, forcing me to spread open my legs. I watched as his eyes traveled down my body, stopping at the heat between my legs. I heard a cross between a groan and a growl leave his lips as he stared.
“Look at her…” He rasped in my ear. “So fucking pretty. So wet. All for me, the guy you can’t stand.”
He pushed his fingers into me again, with less mercy this time. A soft cry left my lips as I felt myself stretch around the digits. My eyes kept looking at his eyes and then going back to his hand. His thumb moved up to my clit, it began to circle the swollen nub softly, toying with the sensitive bundle of nerves. My mouth hung open as I watched him continue to toy and pleasure me with his fingers. I should have guessed he’d be a god with his hands. How many times did I watch him spin a pencil between his fingers during our brainstorm sessions at the studio?
It wasn’t long until I felt my climax approaching steadily. By the way I was clenching around him, I knew Matt realized it too. His free hand grabbed hold of my chin again, making my eyes meet his in the mirror.
“I want you to watch yourself when you cum for me.” He ordered in my ear. “Don’t you dare look away.”
I’d never seen myself orgasm before, but it was weirdly…erotic. Seeing the way I spasmed in Matt’s arms, the way my mouth hung open, the way my eyes filled with need for him and only him. As the peak of my orgasm ripped through me, he quickly cupped his free hand over my mouth, muffling the almost scream that left my lips.
He didn’t remove his fingers until I was limp in his arms. My head rested on his shoulder, my eyes shut as I tried to catch my breath. His lips lowered onto my neck, gently peppering kisses as he waited for me to come to.
“Still hate me?” He whispered against my temple. He followed his words with a soft kiss, pressing his lips against my slightly damp hair.
“Jury’s still out.” I said between pants.
I finally opened my eyes, meeting his surprisingly warm gaze as I stared up at him. He finally removed his fingers from me, eliciting a soft hiss from my legs. He brought them up to my lips, tapping them on my bottom lip once. I didn’t need any further instructions, I took both fingers in my mouth, moaning softly as I tasted myself on them. He removed them from my mouth with a soft pop.
“You okay?” He asked softly, running a hand through my messy hair.
I nodded against his shoulder, still staring into his green eyes. I wasn’t used to seeing so much compassion and kindness in them, but it suited him.
“Good.” He said with a soft chuckle. He slid out from behind me, grabbing my shorts and panties from the floor. He knelt before me, helping me redress.
Once I was fully dressed again, I flopped down on my bed, trying my best to fight sleep. But when Matt crawled in beside me, pulling me to him, it was impossible. I fell asleep to the feeling of his hands running through my hair, his soft words of praise lulling me to sleep.
"But I don't know what I need so just tell me what you need, you're all I need"
You were the perfect girl, the perfect daughter. So what were you doing fucking your dads best friend?
{warnings: drug use, corruption kink, daddy issues ig? idk just read it man}
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You grew up the perfect girl, never past curfew, grades never lower than a B-, and been part of your school's version of D.A.R.E. since you could remember. Drugs were bad, drugs were evil and life ruining. Drugs made you do disgusting and depraved things.
So is that why you fucked your dads best friend?
You really didn't want to do this, you really didn't. You just couldn't stop the itching thought that you needed to try. You really didn't mean to smoke. You just needed a bit to dull the edge, maybe just a pill or two. You've lost your sense of purpose since school ended, there's no will to work with daddy's endless supply of money and no will to go further to learn how to do a meanless job and no will to live with no thrill. Without school there's no entertainment and without work there's nothing to do for the rest of your days. So, like a reasonable person, substance abuse peaks your interest. But it's hard to abuse when the most you've taken was 4 ibuprofen on accident.
He didn't even deal. He was a dad, biweeklybarbecues-uppersuburbs-toomanypairsoftennisshoes-pooloutback-collectsnationalparksouvenirs-kind of dad. You could've fit perfect into his family too, hell, you were even in his kids age range. You could've grown up being his star child, the baby girl of the family. He could've loved you and taught you everything you needed to know, he wouldn't shelter you. He would be the gentle introduction to everything scary, facing the problem instead of avoiding it. He could be the ideal dad to the ideal daughter.
But he wasn't your dad, yet he was willing to give you all the guidance you'd ever need.
When you met him you were at one of the neighborhood get togethers, it was his first barbecue since he'd moved to the neighborhood and of course your daddy and him clicked instantly. Peas in a pod. You smiled and nodded to his jokes you didn't quite understand and thanked him countless times for hosting and inviting. After the barbecue, he found constant reasons to hangout with your family.
Maybe his kids decided not to be deadbeats and moved out, how lucky.
You had only been over to his house alone a few times before, mainly doing chores for him while he was at work for $15 you don't even need. You just needed a distraction and something to entertain you, and his house was very entertaining. Awards lined the walls and photos of his past self haunted the halls. Not that he was bad looking now, because he definitely isn't, but you always took a moment to appreciate (and slightly drool over) old photos of him. It must've been the third of July when he invited you over, alone, while he wasn't working.
You've stumbled across his stash box before, under the bathroom sink in the back left corner right next to the spare washcloths. You never dared peeking inside, what if he had cameras or came home right as your cracked it open? What if he thought you were a fien and were stealing his weed? You knew what was in the box and you wanted to go inside but you knew it was wrong. D.A.R.E and your parents had you trained and obedient to the law.
When he opened the door the smell of skunk punched your nose and made you recoil. You knew the smell exists and faintly what it was like but never so direct, so strong and real. Worst of all, so alluring. You couldn't help but be enticed. But this was his, not yours. Maybe he thought he was sly and doesn't want it to be commented on. Why mention something not worth mentioning?
He leads you in the house you've come to know your way around, with and without him. The two of you enter the kitchen where the counters are covered in grocery bags and the island is scattered with bowls and clean dishes.
"Thank you so much for helping me prepare for tomorrow, your dad wanted me to bring the food but I genuinely don't think I could do it by myself." Matt says with a gentle smile and soft chuckle, his hand finds his beard and nervously twiddles with it.
"No problem, if you have a list of what you want me to do I can start." You offer and start to take groceries out of the bags. Matt lists out what he wants you to do, mainly cutting fruit and organizing the dishes.
Matt helps your rinse fruit, the majority of the time spent in silence or 2 word small talk. He wants to talk but is unsure how, how do you talk to your dads best friend without your dad there?
He grabs a small container of fruit from a small reusable bag and gasps holding them out.
"I forgot I got these, have you ever had them?" He asks with a bright smile across his face revealing his endearing his tooth gap.
"No, are they good?" You ask and watch him from the corner of your eye as he rinses them, they look like some kind of berry. The water pouring from the slits in the plastic is stained a dark maroon. He dumps them out onto folded paper towels before gently patting them dry.
"Here, try." He says putting his thumb on your lower lip, your mouth instinctively opens and your eyes find his. You don't even process the fruit in your mouth until his pointer slowly presses under your jaw to close your mouth for you. You wait to chew, not wanting to scare off his hand.
Maybe this is really what you wanted, you didn't crave drugs or a new hobby. You wanted, no, needed, his affection. This is what you craved. You needed his touch, his guidance.
"Do you like it?" He asks a sly smirk forming on his face.
As hard as you try, you can't form the words to come out. Every syllable stuck in the back of your throat stopped by your epiglottis. You just nod gently on his hand. Enough to get your point across.
His hand slowly comes down to his side and he clears his throat. You look down at the cutting board you were just using, the deep red juice seeping in the cuts and marks of the plastic. You envied the board, all its cuts cracks and crevices being filled. You knew you were disgusting and wrong for being so attracted to him.
"Have you ever eaten fruit 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩?" Matt finally asks, breaking the awkward shame-filled silence.
You laugh nervously, was this a interrogation? Or was he offering? Either way your answer was the same.
"I've never gotten high Mr. Stone, if that's what you're trying to ask." You say in what feels like a whisper a giggle hiding behind your words.
He turns his body to fully face you and crouches slightly to be level with you before squinting his eyes and searching your face. Soon amusement and shock take his face.
"Have you ever been curious or anything?" He asks, genuinely amazed.
"I mean, who isn't curious? But my parents would kill me and plus it's 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘭, Mr. Stone."
"Do you wanna try?" He asks, his voice boyish and giggly.
"Are you offering me 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 Mathew?" You ask while your face flushes and start to fill the air with giggles.
"If you're taking, I'm offering." He teases. You shrug in response, unsure what answer he wants your to say or how to react. "You clean up then come to the living room, okay sweetheart?" Your stomach knots tightly at his words and you nod.
You start stacking the containers in the fridge and wipe counters. Were you seriously about to do 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 with your dad's best friend?? Was he seriously offering someone younger than both his kids to do something illegal with him?
You sit next to him on the couch and see the box. The bathroom cabinet box. The box you tried to ignore countless times and here it was, ready and waiting for YOU. He opens the small golden latch of the dark cherry wood box. As soon as it opens that repulsivly enticing smell fills your senses. The innards have a velvet lining and nubs in small glass jars. He grabs one of the small jars and unscrews it. "Watch-" He instructs as he pulls out another container, this one metal. He unscrews the cap and a maze of metal is revealed. He traps a small chunk into the grinder and twists it a few times. He unscrews the main part and twists a part off the bottom to reveal a shiny crystally mass. "This, I've been saving. Saving for someone special to share it with. I think you're very special, baby." He says smiling and pulls out a paper and pinching the ground flower into the middle and lifting it. He begins to roll it and just before he licks it sealed he looks up at you, making eye contact.
He grabs a lighter, a basic BIC black one with the sticker peeled off, "You first." He says handing you the lighter and joint.
You cautiously take the twisted paper between your pointer index and your thumb and gently rest it at the part of your lips. Were you seriously about to do this?
"Come on, you got this." He whispers and snakes a hand to your arm tracing the back of his finger down your bicep.
"I-I can't, my dad's going to kill me." You sigh and bring the joint down between your spread knees.
"He won't, if he somehow catches us I'll explain how it's all my fault because it really is sweetie. You're doing nothing wrong. Do you want me to teach you?" He asks resting his hand on your knee and rubbing it with his thumb. You nod and hand him the joint. He straightens his posture and takes it between the mid joints in his first two fingers and brings the lighter up to the end. He lights it and closes his eyes as he breathes in. He brings it down and holds it out to you while letting and exhale of smoke. Skunk never smelt so good until it left his lungs.
You take the twig back to your mouth and take a tiny inhale barely letting it hit the back of your mouth before coughing until you dople over. He leans over and rubs your back chuckling softly.
"You have to slowly let it in, accept it in your lungs it won't hurt too bad, that's what I've found." He says with warmth in his voice. He was probably such a good dad to his boys. He would've raised you to be such a good girl.
He hands you a water bottle and you chug it. The coughing subsided eventually. By now your mascara is messed up and streaming down your face. "Fuck...." You mumble before sniffling.
"Here, try again. I know you'll get this down." He says rubbing your back and handing you the joint again.
You take another puff and this time accept and prepare for the burn. He watches you endearingly and full of admiration and pride. You let the smoke escape through your nose before opening your mouth and a large puff vents from behind your lips and teeth. Almost instantly, probably from the coughing earlier the high hits you. Everything enhances and becomes infocus, one pixel at a time.
You lean back on the couch before tilting to the side onto him, resting your head on his lap. His hand finds your hair and gently strokes your hair. "You're so perfect." He coos at you. He begins to do a loose braid in your hair. He turns on his TV before gently moving you off him.
"Do you want any fruit?" You nod and move to rest your head on your arm. He turns on a random adult cartoon, it looks like a Matt Groening show but not The Simpsons. He comes back with a plate of cut fruit. You sit up and make space from him. He hands you a slide of watermelon.
You take a bite enjoying the fruit as you close your eyes. Watermelon was ok but never this good.
"Oh my god, you're making a mess sweet girl." He chuckles and suddenly you're back to human, completely himulated as you feel the juice dribble down your chin and raise your hand to wipe it before he grabs your wrist. "Wait-" He mumbles before taking his free hand to your chin and lifting your head up. He passionately suckles on your neck traveling up to your chin, collecting all the juice.
His lips find yours and his tounge wastes no time finding the parting of your lips. He aggressively kisses you with all his love and tounge, no teeth just soft warm love.
You've kissed before, who hasn't? But has kissing always felt this good?
His thumb finds the edge of your shirt and he slides his hand to touch your bare skin, that alone almost made your whimper. He snakes his hand to your waist squeezing the fat and skin softly. "Mm come with me" he grumbles between kisses before standing up and slightly roughly grabs your arm and leads you to his room.
You always knew to avoid and never go into his room, you knew you should take advantage of being in his room and memorize every detail but all you care about right now is that growing warm knot in your stomach and static feeling across your whole body and more importantly making it stronger.
You immediately move to the bed and stare up at him, ready and waiting.
"You're so beautiful like this." He says standing between your knees and stroking your cheek.
"Like what?" You ask, you wish you could look away anywhere but him. But you can't bring yourself too. You can't look away from his face, his parental expression warms you in no way words can explain.
"So needy, desperate. Just ready and wanting for me. I can see the hunger in your eyes." He mumbles a smile spread across his face before he takes a step back and drops his hand from your face. He begins unbuckling his belt. You begin to tug at your bottoms before he stops you, "Let me do it for you." He shrugs off his jeans and strips his shirt tossing them in a pile.
He grabs the bottom of your shirt, "Is this ok?" He asks. You nod in response, too entranced to speak. "Thank you baby." He coos as he adds your shirt to his pile. "Was covered in juice anyways." He mumbles as he pushes you gently to lay down.
He tugs off your bottoms and your underwear too. You'd never felt this way before, totally exposed. You understood what was going on and had wanted it, for longer than you'd ever be willing to admit, since the day you met him. The first time your dad introduced him you had your eyes set on him. He begins kissing down your neck as he pulls down his own boxers.
He stares deeply at you, tracing every feature of your face with admiration in his eyes, the perfect girl. Who needs heaven when you have the most obedient lamb who was ready and waiting for the slaughter? Who needs God when you have someone you can go sin for sin, dirtying eachother. Ruining and destroying eachother. You were the scum of the earth with diamonds hidden beneath and he was a lonely old man searching for gold. He wasn't there to clean you and you weren't there to set him up for the rest of his days. You were just two sick, lonely perverts in the limbo between heaven in hell. Afterall, if it felt so right could it really be all that wrong?
He slowly tears you open, stretching and destroying you with a simple slide of his hips. You arch into him, throwing your head back. He finds your hand and interlocks fingers as he starts his first of many slow gentle thrusts, preparing you. He finally does a harsh rough thrust, bottoming out and fully connecting you two. Skin to skin, hair to hair, heart to heart.
"Fuck" He groans, beginning a new stage of thrusts, deeper and more passionate. "Your dads going to fucking kill me, giving his baby girl drugs and then fucking her. What would he think about this? What would he think about you?" He groans and speeds up as he talks, bottoming out each thrust.
"I- I'm sorry." You whimper to the air your eyes welling with tears from shame and pleasure.
"Don't apologize yet, only we know for now." He groans into your ear, his voice gruff.
His thrusts become quicker, deeper, borderline violent. You'd scream in pain and push him off, run away and never come back but connection has never felt so good. You knew he was teaching you, he was guiding you and helping you learn to take him. Take his love, even when it hurts.
You can feel the bruises form on your insides, only making the tender flesh more sensitive to the pleasure. He moves a hand to your nub gently rubbing it in contrast of the rough thrusting. The new feeling only builds onto the pleasure and you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. He leans closer onto you resting his sweaty forehead on your collarbone and his one arm holding him above you quivering.
"Fuck I'm so close" he mumbles, his voice shaking.
"Let it all out in me." You beg, your voice quivering almost sounding like a sob, which would fit with the tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I-I can't that's so fucked, I'm not wearing a condom." He says, speeding up even more his own body contradicting himself. His thrusts are sloppy, needy, you can feel how lonely he was before you. How bad he needed you.
"Please Matt, I want you to fill me, make me yours. Make me complete." You whisper the plea, that's all it took. With one rough deep thrust you feel him pump around you. You clench tighter, encouraging more product. The warmth fills every cack and crevice inside you, making you his from the inside out.
He rests there hovering over your face. Sweat drips from above and onto your cheek, his sweat mixing with your tears. Sweat, tears and most likely blood has been shed with him. You were completely his from the first puff, first handshake, first cleaning job. You knew it was only time until he chose you. Until he picked you for the slaughter.
"This is our secret, right baby?" He whispers, voice weak and giving out, he was no longer the one guiding.
Do Remer x reader where the reader is mad at him so he does crazy romantic gestures to get them to love him again.
IS IT LUCK?
a/n: oh sad pathetic doug remer, you are so dear to me. this is gn but it is mentioned that reader wears jewelery.
cw: a touch suggestive at points but its like. blink and you'll miss it level.
word count: 883
You’re not even quite sure why you’re mad at him; it’s been that long.
You assume it’s over something classically Remer, likely some stupid remark or comment that hit you the wrong way. All you know for certain that he’s been sitting around, moping, giving you puppy dog eyes. He’s been shoving flowers in your hands and making sure to invite you to every single Beers game. Front row tickets, something a lot of people would die for.
He attempts to make a big show of it, blowing you kisses and mouthing stupid things like “This is for you” before completely missing his shot. It throws his game off so badly that he realizes he needs to get a new tactic to win you back over.
And so, he begins plotting, with a little help from Coop. He can’t lose you over something so stupid that you can’t even remember what it was. He may be dumb, but he’s not dumb enough to let your relationship go.
You huff your way into the house one night, bitching to yourself in your head. There’s another reason to get mad at him, you don’t have your own place. You’re still sharing with Coop, which has led to millions of awkward encounters you don’t even want to think of reliving. You would think with all that baseketball money, Remer would be able to afford a nicer place. You tense your jaw, not bothering to announce your presence.
Despite that, Remer can almost sense your presence and immediately rushes to the door, stumbling over himself to take your jacket off before you can do it yourself. He smiles at you, sweetly, showing off the gap between his teeth.
You furrow your brow, “What’re you up to, Remer?”
“Nothing!” He insists, “But, we’ve got the house to ourselves tonight.” He grins, raising his eyebrows. Great, you think, He’s suggesting makeup sex.
Before you have time to lecture him about this, he’s guiding you into the kitchen and adjacent dining room. You wanna wipe the big grin off his face up until the moment you walk in, your eyes widening.
Remer has cooked you an entire dinner, and you can smell that he’s baking some kind of dessert too. He had always talked about this, giving you store-bought goods and joking about him cooking them, but you never expected him to actually go through with it. There are lit candles on the table, flowers in vases that you didn’t know you guys owned and a gift bag in front of your chair. There’s the low, low hum of Primus in the background. Your jaw drops, it’s so out of left field but so perfectly Remer.
“Christ, Doug.”
“Don’t call me that.” He shudders, laughing and kissing your cheek, “Sit down, I gotta get those muffins out of the oven before the whole place burns down.”
You know they’re probably just box mix muffins, the kind where you just have to add water, oil and some eggs to get a satisfactory sweet, but the gesture is still there and that’s all that matters to you. You shake your head with a smile, giggling under your breath as Remer burns himself getting them out of the oven.
You sit down, looking down at the table. He’s already made your plate, and the food is so warm it feels like it’s only been out of the oven for fifteen minutes max. He comes over and sits down across from you, moving a vase so he can actually see you.
“How long have you been planning this?” You deadpan, tilting your head.
“A while,” He replies, “Open your stuff!”
“Remer, you didn’t have to,” You say, “I mean the dinner would have sufficed to win me back.”
He scoffs, “Whatever! Just open it!”
You do, and you’re met with a VHS of your favorite movie, some jewelry you had been eyeing for a while, more flowers (you wonder how much money Remer has blown on only flowers in the past couple days), and a handmade card.
Remer has made a little construction paper version of the two of you. It’s a touch crude, but you can tell he obviously put a lot of effort into it. The little version of himself with the poorly drawn curly hair is holding up flowers and saying, “I’M SORRY”. When you open it, you’re met with the words, “I love you. I’m sorry I’m an asshole. XOXO, Remer.” in his messy handwriting.
“I forgive you.” You speak, softly, looking up at him. He grins widely at your words, murmuring “Score!” under his breath, it makes you smile in turn.
Remer’s cooking isn’t actually half bad, and you can tell that he’s definitely going to be in charge of cooking for all three of you in the future. He goes out of his way to spoil you for the rest of the night, going as far as not allowing you to get up to put a VHS in, insisting that’s his job and that “you should just relax”. He cuddles you under the blankets under the couch and you fall asleep to him playing with your hair while whispering stupid shit only you two find funny.
Doug Remer is a good boyfriend, no matter how stupid he is.
Smut, Male Masturbation, Not suitable for all readers.
Remer and Y/N were good friends. He always made her laugh and was always the sweetest and so so respectful. So she didn't think twice to ask him to feed her fish while she was out of town for the week. She gave him her extra key and went on her way, knowing her fish were in good hands.
Remer arrives at her house after she left and subconsciously, he had an ulterior motive. A perverted one at that. Y/N was oblivious to his huge crush on her. She trusted him blindly, not that it was a bad thing; Remer was a good guy. But no one’s perfect. Remer takes a look around the clean and feminine living room before walking further into the house. He’s been here plenty of times but never alone. He quickly gets to her bedroom; the smell in the air is sweet. A hint of her perfume and the vanilla candle that was previously lit. The smell did something to him, Y/N drove him crazy; she ignited something primal within him that wanted to come out. Her bed was made and it looked so cozy and warm; He could only dream of sleeping and waking up in that bed. Next to Y/N. He shakes away the thought nonetheless and his eyes land on the fish he’s supposed to be feeding.
He walks over to the tank, opening up the top, and sprinkling in some fish food that sat next to the tank. He watches the two fish swim up to the top to eat it. Remer closes the top gently so as to not scare them as they continue to eat. He let out a soft sigh before turning to leave but stopped once his attention was drawn to Y/N’s hamper.
It was half full and had Remer Intrigued. He stands still keeping his distance as he stares at the hamper, trying to fight his ideas. He knew what he was thinking was wrong but his body was begging for it. Somehow he convinced himself that it would be okay since no one would know. It’s just biology, right? It’s only natural this would happen… right? He snaps out of his thoughts as his body takes over. He strides over to the hamper immediately rummaging through it. He finds a pair of Y/N’s panties. Jackpot. He holds it in his hands staring in awe. This was the closest he’s ever gotten to Y/N like this, and would probably be his only time, so it’s best to make the most of it. It was a cute pink cotton pair with some lace on the trim; so pretty, so Y/N.
He faintly smiles at the thought of her wearing it. He opens up the pair, examining it. The patch of cloth that would go directly over her vagina had a faint stain on it, like a wet spot. He can’t control himself anymore and he brings the panties to his nose before taking a long sniff. If the smell of her bedroom drove him crazy then the smell of her panties made him insane. As he exhales he lets out a strong groan at the scent. His dick is now fully hard as it strains against his jeans, needing to break free. He’s too focused on the panties to even care. Remer then licks the panties trying to get a taste of Y/N’s pussy. And it worked. He could faintly taste her on the piece of cloth and he just snapped.
Remer takes the panties away from his face briefly, to fumble his belt off. He pushes down his jeans as fast as possible along with his boxers. His cock springs free, slapping against his lower abdomen. He was almost painfully hard with heaps of precum leaking out. He shoves the panties in his face again, smelling it aggressively. Remer wanted to be surrounded by Y/N’s pheromones and her sweet body; but the panties would suffice, for now. He wraps his free hand around his cock, pumping slowly. He groans at the feeling along with the smell of her panties. It wasn’t enough, he needed more. He stops his movements before his hand shoots down to the hamper again, to find another pair. He finds one, this pair is the same style just in dark purple. The image of Y/N in this particular pair somehow made him harder. He smells this one and it’s definitely stronger, with an even bigger discharge stain on it. “Oh fuck.” He groans out in pleasure, his dick twitching in unison as he stares at the purple pair.
At this point, all his inhibitions are gone. He kicks off his jeans and boxers that pooled at his ankles. He then quickly makes his way over to Y/N’s bed, grabbing her body lotion on the way. He sets the lotion on the bedside table before sitting his bare lower body on the bed. He lays back on the headboard, spreading his legs. He cradles both pairs of panties like they’re important treasures; which to him, they are. With his right hand, he pumps her cocoa butter and vanilla-scented lotion onto his hands. The smell of the lotion just reminded him of her even more. He slathers the lotion on his dick, moaning at the sensation. He takes the purple pair and places it perfectly over his face so his nose is right up against where her pussy used to be. He wraps the pink pair around his cock beginning to pump moderately. With every breath he gets a whiff of her, turning him on even more. He begins to pump faster and faster. The once quiet room was now filled with his moans and the squelching sound of his cock that was covered in lotion and precum. His movements became even faster. The sounds becoming louder and louder.
He then starts dirty talking to himself out loud. Clearly pretending he was fucking Y/N. “Oh, you like that? you like that, pretty girl?” He groans out loud. His eyes are closed shut; his face scrunched in concentration and pleasure. “Oh fuck yeah. You’re so hot, baby girl. ‘m gonna fuck you all night” His groans and moans get even more loud and the wet squelching from his dick continues to fill the room. His hands pump himself erratically at this point. “Oh yeah. Take it. Take it, baby. you’re such a gooood girl, Y/N. could fuck you forever.” He’s so immersed in pleasure and his imagination that the pleasure builds up quickly. He doesn’t even register he is coming until his seed starts coating the pink pair of panties. He lets out the loudest groan of the evening as his balls empty onto the pretty piece of clothing.
Post orgasm he comes back to his senses. Remer does feel a little guilty as he takes the purple pair off of his face. He takes in the sight of Y/N’s cum-soaked panties in his hand. He’s tempted to take a pair home but doesn’t want you to notice any changes in your home that you trusted him to be in alone. After a few minutes of catching his breath and basking in the post-climax endorphins, he gets out of Y/N’s bed. He definitely left some sweat behind but it will dry out eventually. He cleans himself up, with the other pair of panties. He hesitantly puts the panties back into the hamper, making sure to bury them within the other dirty clothes; hoping you won’t see it. He puts the lotion back and tidies up a bit before leaving; satisfied yet guilty. Only to go home still dreaming of you.
tags: alcohol, fluff, cuddling, kissing, remer is lovey dovey
JUST IN THE MOOD TO WRITE SOMETHING SWEET!! a very quick fic
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you were in cozily in your bed while a movie was playing in the background, remer said he would b home earlier but it was almost midnight and he wasn't receiving your texts, an hour goes by and you couldn't help but worry as you stare at the wall.
you get up and quickly get to the door, expecting remer
it was him.. a very drunk version of himself
"mmph hevyy sweetheart, I missed you soo'mmuch" he says in the most incoherent voice and rushes to hug you
your not quite sure how he got this drunk
you drag him inside with him on your body. looking at him a slight annoyance but you couldn't help but love how affectionate he was like this "god.. remer how much did you even drink?”
he laughs and replies “mm a lot”
as you pull him he’s still latched onto you, grabbing a glass of water for remer on the way. he looks at you for a good 10 seconds and asks "have I ever told you how pretty you aree??"
"no, actually you haven't!!” you reply sarcastically
as you two trip onto bed he pulls you into another deep hug holding you and pulling you into his chest, his arms resting on your waist and thighs tightly as you lightly twirl his curls
you take his glasses off and remer gently lifts your face up to him, he says in his very sweet but tired voice "I love you so much" and pulls you into his lips, he moans into you passionately kissing you still tightly holding your waist. you pull out “love you too remer” you two fall asleep quickly while he's still holding you
