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trumanbluee · 4 days
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i updated this to now include harry potter!!! please feel free to send me any type of request here! that would be much appreciated!! thank you lovelies <33
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welcome to my blog!! 🎀
about me !!
hii !! i'm gracie, im 17! im a huge swiftie and the 1975 is my favourite band, but im a huge fangirl overall!!!
i'll write for;
matty healy
peter parker (insomniac or tasm!)
the marauders (excluding wormtail)
harry james potter
masterlist:
* means there is smut / nsfw material !!!
matty healy
an encounter - matty healy *
the only time i feel i might get better - matty healy *
if its not with you (part one) - matty healy *
if its not with you (part two) - matty healy *
marauders
how you get the girl - remus lupin
about time - james potter (req)
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trumanbluee · 4 days
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if its not with you (part two) - matty healy
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minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!!
this is part two of this fic!! i recommend reading that before this one, but it's not necessary!!
word count: 2735
content/warnings: afab main character, established relationship, unprotected sex (no mention of protection). please lmk if i missed anything, thanks! <3
a/n: enjoy!! i've missed posting on here!
She sat on her couch in anticipation, leg bobbing rhythmically as she scrolled through her phone, expecting a call from Matty any minute.
At 9am on the dot, his name flashed across her phone, interrupting the TikTok she was watching. She clicks the ‘accept’ button as if it’s muscle memory, which it is by now, they’d called so many times in the last few months,  and presses her phone to her ear.
“Matty?”
“Hey baby! Just got off the plane. Wanted to let you know I’ll be home in about an hour and a half, ‘kay?” She could hear his smile through his words, and her chest bubbled with excitement at the thought of their reunion.
“Are you sure you don’t want me t’come get you? I’ve got the car, I can just-”
She’s cut off when he tuts over the phone, and she can practically see him shaking his head.
“Nah, honey. Thank you. Just wanna come home to you, yeah? Don’t want the first time I see my girl in months to be in some grimy airport, baby. I love you, I’ll see ya’ in a bit.”
And just like that the call was over, though she wasn’t offended by the abrupt end. Matty’s brain moved extremely quickly, and he often got distracted from the task at hand. She didn’t take it personally, she just couldn’t wait to see him.
She spent the hour she had before he got home tidying up, not wanting Matty to come home to a messy house. Now, she stood in front of the mirror, attempting to tidy herself up to look somewhat presentable for her boyfriend, though she knew he wouldn’t care how she looked. She still donned his oversized - on her at least - dress shirt, buttoned up to just above her cleavage, but had brushed her hair and applied a light amount of makeup, not wanting to seem too messy.
She sat, anxiously, on the couch facing the front door, ears perking at every sound that came from the hallway leading to their shared apartment. 
Then, she heard the rattling of the door, as well as a huff of slight frustration as Matty struggled to walk through the door, dragging his suitcase and carry-ons with him.
She sprung up, rushing over to him in record time. Fiddling with his bags, he finally notices her there in front of him, and dropped everything he was holding on the hardwood floor, instead opening his arms for her to fall into.
Slamming herself into his chest, she wrapped her arms around him, squashing her cheek against his chest.
He stumbled at the impact, chuckling slightly at her eagerness. 
“Hi baby,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear, one hand wrapped tightly around her as the other caressed the back of her head, carding through her soft hair. “Missed me, huh?”
She nodded against his firm chest, chin planting against it as she looked up at him through her eyelashes, eyes bleary with tears. He had no idea.
He cooed, “Oh darlin’, I missed you too. So much.” With this, he picked her up, with her instinctually wrapping her legs around him. He shoved his head into her shoulders, breathing in her scent that he’d missed so much, a mixture of her strawberry shampoo and floral perfume, though she hadn’t even put any on today.
He sighed, keeping one hand on her back, rubbing slow, comforting circles as he hugged her tight, placing his other hand on her bum to keep her stable.
Sniffling slightly, she rubbed the wetness around her eyes away with her fist, placing her head back onto Matty’s shoulder.
“Missed you so much, baby,” He whispered in her ear, planting a soft kiss just behind it as he said it, sending a shiver down her spine. He continued, placing kisses across the side of her neck and along her chin, lifting her head slightly to grant him more access. 
She sighed airily at the feeling of his soft lips against the sensitive skin of her throat, bringing her hand up to twirl the curls at the nape of neck.
“Need you, Matty,” She whined in his ear.
“I know, honey. Wanna take my time with you though, yeah? Haven’t seen you in so long, baby.” He spoke softly into her ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek sweetly before gripping her tightly, her legs still wrapped around his waist.
She reached her head up, placing her lips on his in a desperate kiss, almost as though she was trying to show him how much she’d missed him.
Matty sighed into the kiss, like it was a relief to him to feel her lips on his, and continued the kiss, deepening it slightly as he made the short walk from the hallway to their bedroom and over to their bed, his knees hitting the soft bedding that laid over the end.
He kissed her once more, still holding her in his arms, before he gently laid her back on the bed, the lower half of her body hanging off slightly. She watched him, smiling down at him as he knelt between her legs, pushing her feet softly so they’d bend at the knees, opening her up to him. 
She whined as he pushed up the bottom of his dress-shirt so it bunched up just above her belly button, Matty planting a soft kiss just above the hem of her underwear. 
He hummed, “Missed this, honey. Missed you being such a good girl for me.” He slipped a thumb into her underwear, using his other hand to gently lift her hips up in order to pull them down her legs. 
He kissed the side of her right knee, trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses all the way up until he reached her cunt, now sopping wet, before doing the same thing to the other leg.
“M-matty,” she whined, drawn out in complaint at his teasing, “Puh- please.”
He smirked up at her through hooded eyes to see her looking down at him the best she could, eyes furrowed, cheeks red, and biting her lip. 
“What’s wrong baby? Please what?” He pressed a kiss to her throbbing clit, spreading her open with his hand as he did so, before blowing cool air over her aching pussy. 
“W-want you,” she managed to stutter out, already almost completely fucked out from his teasing kisses. 
“Yeah, baby? Want me where, darlin’? Here?” He placed an open mouthed kiss on her lower thigh, “Or here?” He placed another kiss on her soft stomach, hearing a loud whine above him.
He faked surprise, “No? Not there, darlin’? What about here, then?” And with that, he finally placed his hot mouth against her, swirling his tongue lightly around her puffy clit. She keened above him, lifting her hips to meet his mouth, only for them to be softly pushed back down on to the bed, Mattys arm coming up to lay across her stomach, holding her hips down with the weight. 
“Fuck, honey. Y’taste even better than I remember.” He praised, licking a strip from her hole up, earning a loud moan. 
She reaches her hand down, twirling her hand into Matty’s thick, dark-chocolate curls, and presses his face into her pussy. He obeys her silent command, licking and sucking her clit as he brings his hand - the one not occupied with holding her impatient hips down - up to her dripping hole, teasing a single digit at the entrance slowly. 
She whines, hand tightening in Matty’s hair, and grinds her hips to meet Matty’s kitten licks. Taking pity on her, Matty pushes two fingers inside her, curling them up to hit the spot he knows oh so well. She keens, back arching slightly off the bed, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden, though not unwelcome, intrusion. 
He pushes his fingers in and out, in and out, in a steady rhythm, while continuing his attack on her pudgy clit, wanton moans sounding in the air around him, though he can barely hear them as her thighs tighten around his head, muffling any and all sound. Though he doesn’t mind at all, she could suffocate him in her pussy, right here, right now, and he would die a happy death. 
He groans against her pussy, sending vibrations throughout her entire body, as he begins to buck his hips against the edge of the bed in the same rhythm his fingers are fucking her. He’s rock hard, and can’t help but attempt to relieve the uncomfortable pressure building in the tent of his pants. 
Moaning against her clit, he speeds up the movement of his fingers, curling them upwards as he does so. She groans, a slightly guttural sound from the back of her throat, and begins moving her hips back and further against Matty’s face rapidly. 
“G-gonna cum f’me, honey?” Matty asks, hips stuttering against the bedcover as he quickly approaches his own orgasm, the sound of her pleasure being enough to get him off. 
She whined, nodding rapidly as her eyebrows furrow and thighs close around Mattys head. He felt his stomach tighten as her moans got louder, less contained, and he let out a final moan against her clit, sending her over the edge as he came against the grey sweatpants he’d worn on the plane. Her chest rose rapidly, breathes short and high-pitched as she came down from her high, Matty’s fingers still inside her, guiding her through it softly. 
Catching her breath, Matty crawls up the bed, holding himself above her, and begins kissing up her neck, his knees pressed against her sensitive cunt. 
“God, darlin’ y’taste so good you made me cum in my pants.” He admits, laughing slightly as he kisses along her jaw sweetly. 
She giggles, lidded eyes looking up at him as he holds himself up over her, “Really? God that’s so hot.” 
They both laughed softly, basking in each other's presence, but she could still feel the heat of need in the pit of her stomach, oozing down between her legs. She reaches her hand up, curling it around the back of Matty’s neck to pull his head down to reach her, smashing her lips against his. 
“Still need you, baby,” She whispered against his lips, lifting her hips off the bed to grind up against his hardening cock. 
“Fuck, honey, y’killin’ me, wearin’ my shirt. Y’look so gorgeous, sweetheart,” He placed kisses down her neck, stopping to suck on the sweet spot just above her collarbone, before bringing his hands up to tug at the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off to expose her boobs, nipples perking up at the exposure to the cold air in the room. 
He takes one into his mouth, sucking and biting softly as he caresses the other in his hand, thumb brushing over her sensitive nipple harshly, causing her to jolt and let out a loud, drawn-out moan. 
“Missed you so much, sweetheart,” He whispers against her skin, eyes looking up at her adoringly before he turns his attention to her other nipple, performing the same actions again. 
She reaches down, tugging at the top of his sweatpants, silently telling him she wants them off, and he obeys, sitting up to pull his shirt off too, before he returns back up to her face, pressing a soft kiss against her lips, eyes fluttering closed. He reaches his hand down, gripping his hard length, pumping it softly, dragging it teasingly up and down her sticky slit, tapping it on her puffy, red, clit twice, before pressing his thick head into her hole slowly. 
He leans forward, shoving his head into the crook of her shoulder as he slowly pushes into her, feeling her soaking cunt tighten around him as she welcomes him in, welcomes him home. A broken, high pitched whimper sounds below her ear as he finally bottoms out, hips stilling as he feels her tight pussy contract around his cock, her breathy moans in his ear making it difficult to control himself as he slowly drags his cock out, before slowly pushing back in again. 
He lets out a low groan as she cries out, wrapping her legs around his waist, interlocking her heels to keep him inside her.
“Such a good girl, darlin’. So gorgeous… Fuck, I love you so much, baby,” he mumbled out, hips stuttering as he continues his slow rocks into her, her hands reaching his back, dragging her nails up and down. 
She cries out, tight cunt clamping around him as he leans further over her, grabbing one of her hands and intertwining them, placing it on the pillow above her head. 
“L-love you so much Matty, fuck… feels so good.” she stutters out, tears sprouting in the corner of her eyes as he fucks into her slowly, hitting that sweet spot inside her over and over again. She’s completely overwhelmed. That, mixed with how he squeezed her hand almost reassuringly, and peppered kisses over her face and neck, was fogging her brain, and all she could think was, ‘Matty, Matty, Matty’, over and over. 
She said his name like a prayer, breathily calling out to him as she felt herself get tighter and tighter around him, gripping on to his hand in an attempt to ground herself as he brought her closer and closer to coming. 
His brows furrowed, eyes lidded in pleasure as he felt her contract around him. He knew her like the back of his hand, and he could tell from the way her brows screwed up, her mouth lolled open, and how her cheeks grew a bright pink, that she was on the brink of her orgasm. He kept his rhythm, slipping his head back into the crook of her neck and placing kisses across her shoulder as he fucked his cock in and out of her. 
“C’mon, honey,” He whispered in her ear, planting a kiss on her earlobe softly, “Can feel you tightening around me, baby. Gonna cum with me? Yeah?”. He pulled back from her neck to see her nodding, eyes rolled back in her head as her mouth opened in a silent scream.
 He felt her gush around him, and, as if on cue, he felt that familiar tightness in the pit of his stomach, continuing to work his hips, slowly fucking his cock in to her, guiding her through her orgasm, he felt himself spill into her, eyes closed tight as he let out a low groan before stilling inside her. 
Their heavy breathes filled the room, both of their chests rising rapidly as Matty pulled out as carefully as he could, rubbing soft shapes on her upper thigh with his thumb as he did so. She whined at the sensitivity as Matty pulled out, feeling the mixture of both of their orgasms seep out onto the white sheets of their shared bed. 
She allowed her eyes to fall closed, sleep beginning to overtake her when she was brought to reality by the warmth of a wet towel being swiped over her skin, with Matty beside her, shushing and comforting her softly as he cleaned her up. 
“Come on, honey. Ran you a nice warm bath, okay?” He took her hand, placing a hand on her back to guide her up, before leading her into their ensuite, thumb rubbing smooth lines across her knuckles. He helped her step into the bath, arms holding her elbows as he helped her to sit down, before going to walk out of the bathroom. 
He was quickly stopped, however, when he heard her sweet voice from behind him call, “Matty? Aren’t you gonna sit with me?”
His heart stopped at her soft tone of voice, spinning on his heel to face her. 
“Of course, honey. I was just ‘gonna get you some water, yeah?” 
She shook her head, no, pouting down at the water, she spoke softly, “Just want you in here, please.”
He nodded, already beginning to strip the clean sweatpants he’d thrown on mere minutes ago. 
“Of course, sweet girl,” he cooed, settling himself in the bubble bath he’d run for her, “C’mere.” He ushered her over and she placed herself between his legs, head rested on his chest lazily as she drew circles on his open palm whilst he told her all about the tour, and what the band had been up to while they were away. 
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trumanbluee · 5 days
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girl keep doing your thing! who cares if you’re 17 or 60 lol you’re harming no one <3
thank you!!!!!! hahaha 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
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trumanbluee · 5 days
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Are you gonna make a fan fiction about
matty healy and taylor swift? I would love to read it if you do make one! Love reading your fan fics so much!!! :))
im not sure!!!! im a huge maylor & i love them both so much and ttpd too!!!! i might write a fic based on a song from ttpd! maybe i can fix him (no really i can), but im not sure! thank you so much for reading!!! 💖💖💖
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trumanbluee · 6 days
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i genuinely start tweaking when im trying to find harry potter fanfiction and the top posts in tags like 'harry potter x reader' are for like theo nott and other characters that arent harry 😭😭😭😭😭 and then hjp x reader has none too
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trumanbluee · 7 days
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dating remus lupin
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trumanbluee · 9 days
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sorry i havent been online at all recently!!!!!! ive been super busy at school but i might have something to post tonight??? im not completely sure but stay tuned! 🤍
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trumanbluee · 9 days
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no one contact me, im currently streaming 'THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY' for the third time tonight.
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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this is genuinely my favourite piece of writing on this website i come back to read this like once a week
𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧
remus’ touch after a long night prompts a tired confession (and a slew of clumsy kisses). 
requested here. modern au. fem!reader, 3.6k.
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
“I'm going to bed,” Sirius mumbles, scratching at his eyes as he gets up. “Don't let her sleep in her makeup. She'll get an eye infection.” 
Your eyes are getting sore, but it's hardly Remus' responsibility to make sure you wash your face tonight, nor Sirius’ to remind you. “I'm a big girl.” 
Sirius sends you a smile, ignoring your chiding. “Goodnight, my loves,” he says, waving you both away as he heads out of the living room and up the stairs. 
“Notice how he didn't do his dishes?” Remus asks, shifting beside you. 
He's sitting as he tends to, slouched in a way that can't be good for his back in the long run but is clearly comfortable short term. His chin is on his chest, his legs kicked out under the coffee table, which is decorated by the casualties of the night. Sirius’ dinner plate, Remus’ mug, James’ rarely used handheld console. He'd been playing a cutesy farming sim before he said goodnight an hour ago. Sirius stayed to mess with James’ crops and eat a late supper. You're surprised it took him as long as it did to admit defeat. 
“What time is it?” you ask. 
You're laying on the sofa with your socked feet tucked behind Remus’ back, of which he's yet to complain. His elbow brushes your shin as he brings up his arm. “Nearly one in the morning, now,” he reads from his watch. “Let's go to bed too, yeah?” 
“I don't want to.” You turn your face into the pillow behind your neck.
“Me neither,” Remus says, dropping his hand on your knee.
You watch another twenty minutes of TV together failing to summon the energy to stand, but the want for a glass of water grows too big. Your head throbs as you get up, offering your hands to the pretzel that is your favourite housemate.
Remus turns off the TV and lights. You lock the front door. He carries the dirty dishes to the kitchen and you fill up two glasses of water to take with you. It's all so… regular. A routine you share nearly every night, only to climb into your two separate beds. 
He ushers you out of the kitchen and down the hallway with his hand behind your shoulders, his touch a phantom as you ascend the stairs.
You're silent beside the creak of the old wood, too tired to speak. Remus is similarly quiet, though he does whisper, “Watch,” when you nearly kick the box of Halloween decorations waiting to be taken up into the attic. 
You leave your water on the towel box in the alcove and dance around one another in the bathroom. Sirius’ toothbrush lays on the sink still wet, but otherwise there's no signs of him. 
You're feeling very, very tired. You hadn't realised how bad it was until you're putting your toothbrush in your mouth, leant up against the window sill, a slot of cold air seeping in from the dark outside. Your eyes shutter closed. The scrubbing sound of Remus brushing his teeth is almost lulling. 
He swills out his mouth and washes his brush. “Here,” he says gently. You open your eyes just enough to see him beckoning you forward. “Dove, your necklace.” 
“Oh. Thanks.” You turn your back to him. 
His fingers are damp and cool on your skin as he unclasps your necklace. He often takes it off for you. It's one of the things you'll miss when you guys aren't living together anymore, the slow meander to his bedroom, the wood of his door jam on your cheek as you lean against it and give him a hopeful smile. Sometimes he's awake, reading a novel on his side in bed or listening to music at his desk, other times he's sleeping. On those occasions you spend too long lingering, stolen seconds spent staring at the rise and fall of his shoulder. 
“Thank you,” you say as he puts your necklace in the jewellery dish. It comes out missing vowels, lips stuck together as though honeyed. 
You spit pathetically in the sink, rinse your brush, and consider sitting down. “I'm tired,” you whine, wiping your lips. 
“I know,” Remus says, giving you a fond nudge. “Just wash your face and get on with it.” 
“You first. I'm going to nap standing up for a bit.” 
He puts as much of his hair behind his ears as he can and turns on the tap. This is just as familiar as brushing your teeth together. It's not quite as bad as watching James Perfect Skin Potter wash his face with bar soap, but you have to admit that Remus’ eight-nine pence face soap hurts your heart. He washes it off, pats his face dry, and takes the small bottle of bio oil out of the medicine cabinet to pipette onto his pinky finger. “Wash your face,” he says, smoothing the oil into his scars one by one. 
You shake your head. “M'gonna do it in the morning.” 
“That's why your eye was swollen a few weeks ago. You know yourself you won't.” 
“I might,” you say, letting out a big breath as you rub your sore eyes even sorer, “I'm too tired.” 
“Can you sit up, at least?” 
“No.” Remus takes you by the shoulders and forces you to sit on the edge of the bath. “Aggressive?” 
“Don't fall in,” he says, cupping your cheek briefly as if to make sure you've heard. 
You are hearing him, seeing him, even feeling the immensity of his touch, but you're tired, and you know you can let yourself relax completely with him. You'd be the same with James or Sirius, though neither of them could have your head feeling so dizzyingly light from a single touch as Remus can. You probably wouldn't let them persuade you into this, either, tilting your head back to watch through blurry vision as Remus soaks a cotton round in your facial oil. 
“Close your eyes,” he says. 
“Was that a dracula impression?” 
“I command you.” 
You close your eyes. The queasy feeling of oil drags against your lids as Remus wipes them, loosening the stiff tubes of mascara that coat your lashes. It's not a short process because he's very, very gentle, holding your face delicately as though you're a flower in need of coddling, and him the sun. It's the only metaphor that would ever make sense for you and Remus; he's like the sun even if it goes against every statement he's ever made about himself, or anyone else has, for that matter. People think he's a moody, sarcastic boy, and he is, but he's also a vestibule of sweetness, softness, and warmth. The kind of heat you'd only ever feel kissing your skin under the summer sun. But more than that, he's the relief that follows when the clouds come out. 
And his hands are all over you. Your head gets heavier by the minute, eased into dozing by his touch and quiet tones. “We're almost done. I'm gonna have to carry you to bed at this rate.” 
“I'm going to miss this so much one day,” you say. It's easier to admit when you're not looking at him. 
Remus turns on the tap. Hot water runs, you can tell by the sound as strange as it seems, and he wrings the dirtied cotton round before replacing it with a new one. He wets it, bringing it just that touch too hot to your cheeks to wipe you down. “What are you going to miss, dove?” 
“Us. You. I'm going to miss you.” 
“Where are you going?” 
“Nowhere, but one day I will be. James will finally have had enough of us and I'll,” —you swallow around nothing as a rivulet of water runs down your cheek, a cooling tear from the cotton round— “have to move out and we'll never see each other anymore.” 
“Don't be silly, you're not going anywhere.” 
“It's not about the going,” you murmur, peeling your eyes open tentatively as his dabbing follows down your cheek to your neck. “I miss you sometimes and we still live together. I can't imagine how much I'll miss you…” 
Remus puts the cotton round aside. He takes your face into his hand, and suddenly his touch feels raw, nothing like it had moments ago. Because Remus would wash your makeup off for you any day of the week, but his looking at you like this, so unshielded and unabashed, is a rarity. 
“You won't have to miss me. Even if we did move away from each other, I wouldn't let it be that far.” 
“Friends move away all the time. We don't speak to half the people we knew at school.” 
“I only really knew you and the boys,” he says. It isn't true but it is at the same time. Together, you'd been a happy lot, but your current housemates are the ones you'd known. “And see? We're still together.” 
“But for how long?” you ask. 
Remus brings his second hand, holding your face entirely. He covers your cheeks, index fingers sliding slowly under your ears. He's exceedingly gentle, and his eyes are soft. He holds you like you're made of glass, like you could break under a hint of pressure. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side as though he might lean in for a kiss. Maybe he doesn't know he's doing it, but Remus is a very purposeful soul. He'd do much worse to wind you up if you wanted him to. 
You sober up. It's like he has caffeine in his palms. 
“You want to go where I'm going, is that it?” he asks quietly. 
“Yeah,” you say, barely say, voice shame-facedly weak. Is he asking what you think he is?
“Do you want to start now?” 
You breathe out as one of his hands shifts down your jaw. “Yeah, I… I want to start now.” 
“Okay, dove. Then close your eyes again.” 
You hold his gaze for a second that feels infinitely long and short at once, your heart racing. Clarity has returned, a thrust into wakefulness even if your fatigue ties knots around your ankles. You look at him in his late night glory, his scars shining a pink-white like the petals of a young peony flower, and you know it's happening now. 
You shut your eyes. 
He steps closer, though the bath you're perched on is low, and he has to bend a considerable amount to reach you. The weight of his hands on you doesn't change, not even as he grows near enough to sense the heat of his breath against your lips. It's his nose that makes first contact as it slides against yours, and then his forehead presses down into you, his lips noticeably absent. Each contiguity between you thrums. 
A pit opens in your chest, cleaved by his voice as he says, “I'm going to kiss you, okay? S'that what you want?” 
Your hands don't feel like your own. Under the sickening nervousness twining its way through your ribs, you're excited. You're smiling, your voice shaped by it. “Yeah. It's what I want,” you say. 
“Good. It's what I've wanted for a while–” while pressed into your lips, all shaken up by an emotion you've never heard him speak with. He kisses you and you're frozen, and he waits and waits and pulls away to push back in. You remember yourself then, responding to his wading with some pressure of your own. Sparked back to life. 
It's so strange. It doesn't feel real. Remus Lupin kisses you heated and hard for just long enough to feel it in your teeth before he pulls away. “Sorry,” he murmurs, his fingertip running down your cheek, following that same path as your earlier rivulet. To think he saw it, really saw it, locked it away to remember and trace into your skin now… maybe he's seen much more of you than you realised all along. 
“Will you do it again?” you say under your breath. 
Remus must hear the thread of insecurity running through your question; you're afraid he'll say no, but he strokes your cheek again with that unfathomable softness and says, “Yeah, dove, of course I will.” 
“Do you want to?” 
And that's less insecurity and more selfishness, wanting the confession. He hears that, too. 
“I want to kiss you more than I've ever wanted anything,” he says, eye to eye with you, your head tipped up and your heart in your throat, twitching and fizzling like a firecracker. “Yeah? And all that missing me you've been doing? All your worrying? You don't need to do that. You've never needed to do that–” 
“I just never thought you liked me like that.” You and Remus aren't new to one another. “You've been the same since the day we met.” 
Remus’ hands get a little more solid where he's holding you. “Dove. Dove, are you mad?” 
“Remus–” 
“Maybe I have been the same, but did you really not notice that I–” He squeezes your cheeks playfully, almost in disbelief. “If you want me, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere without you. You're not going anywhere without me.” 
“So you like me?” 
“Yes,” he says, his eyebrows pinched together at the starts. “Of course I do.” He laughs. “That's what I'm trying to tell you.” 
“Oh,” you say, lifting your head. 
Remus shuts his eyes a millisecond before you shut your own and kisses you again. The second round is softer, his smile to yours and struggling to find purchase. His breath huffs out in a minty laugh, shockwaves through your mouth. 
“Stop laughing,” he breathes, his hands falling to your neck, your shoulders.
“You first.” 
Your lips part under his, a split-second of contact. He yanks away before things can get too heavy, and you're glad he does, but for a moment you feel the loss like a wave of vertigo. 
“Sorry, I'm going too fast, and you're tired.” His touch is ticklish behind your shoulder. 
“It's okay. Maybe it is a bit fast, but I'm not tired anymore,” you confess. 
Remus hugs you, cementing every feeling for him you have as he wraps his arms around you from over your shoulders, a deft hand cupped behind your neck. “That's not true. I can feel your back shaking. Let's go to bed.” 
“After that?” 
“What, are you worried it won't have happened in the morning?” he asks genuinely. 
You go limp in his arms as he takes your weight against his chest. Not worried, but rather not sure you can be away from him so soon. You ask him in a whisper if you can come and sit with him, not to sleep with him, not to do anything else, and he whispers back, Anything you want. You both entertain the lie that you won't fall asleep in his bed. 
Remus tenses as he hears the scuffling sounds of movement downstairs. It takes a train of thought awakening for him to realise it's only James, rising early as usual to put on a load of washing and prepare bits for lunch before he goes off for training. He can see him in his mind's eye if he tries, his friend dressed in the red and white rugby uniform, green socks up over his calves and white cleats scrubbed pristine for another ruck in the mud. 
Remus’ relaxes, stretching out in bed until his hand bumps into something rigid. 
He flinches. 
You're laying on the mattress beside him, your head slipped off of the pillows and your arm tucked beneath you. It doesn't look comfortable, and if it were any other morning he'd pull it straight for you, but. 
I kissed you, he thinks to himself, as though talking to you. He turns away from you until his back clicks and alleviates the ache in his hips, though he has to settle eventually, back on his back, no way of ignoring you. He doesn't want to ignore you. The opposite —why are you so far away? Can he hold you? 
What are the rules here? 
Kissing… not dating… You're here in his bed, you'd asked to stay. 
He takes your hand and pulls at your arm. Still sleeping, you mumble and move onto your back, releasing the pressure on your shoulder as he pulls you toward his chest. Your face is impassive, lax in sleep. 
He should let you sleep. 
“Dove,” he says, stroking up the length of your arm. 
“Mm?” you hum. 
“I need to ask you something.” 
You twitch awake with a small cough. Your eyes are red with a lack of sleep as you open them, blinking, and he wishes stupidly that he could make it better. He makes a sympathetic sound for want of more to do. 
“Why have you woken me up?” you ask, blinking at him. You gather that there's nothing urgent happening and push your face into his shoulder, practically nuzzling him. “It's Saturday.” 
“I just need to ask you something.” 
“So ask me,” you encourage through your sleepiness. 
The washing machine whirs downstairs. It’s an old machine that you often joke is taking off into orbit during the final spin, loud as anything. He can barely hear your sluggish breathing underneath it, but he can't miss the catch in it after he asks, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 
It's not the catch he's expecting. You laugh and readjust, wrapping your arms around him from the side and kissing the side of his neck clumsily. “Y'u asked me last night,” you say in a borderless run-on, sounding about as dopily in love as he's ever heard you. 
He thinks about it. Yes, he did, after he'd kissed you many more times than he should've and curled up in bed with you, hands held loosely beneath the blankets. He remembers the question, the answer. The last kiss that followed, and you falling asleep beside him. 
“I need a coffee,” he says, encouraging your head back so he can kiss your temple. 
“No, you need to sleep more with me. And maybe kiss me again. If you want to.” 
Sleeping isn't half as interesting as kissing you. He slots his nose against yours and languishes in the feeling of your lips, wondering if he's having a false start. He could still be dreaming. It would make sense. 
The door clatters open with a curse. James stands in the doorway with a folded pile of Remus' washing from the radiators in his arms, an apology on his lips, “Sorry, mate, the door got away from– oh my god. Oh my god?” 
Remus isn't an overly shy guy but he can't deal with this. “For fuck's sake,” he mutters, dropping his face into your shoulder. Your arm wraps under his neck, fingers splayed across his cheek. 
“James–” you begin, resigned to your fate. 
“This is flat-cest. This is the cardinal sin.” 
“We don't live in a flat,” Remus says. 
“That makes it worse. You can't even blame close quarters.” Remus peeks up to watch James in the doorway, still clinging to Remus’ washing, pure shock curdling his features. He shakes his head. “I'm telling Sirius.” 
“Please don't!” you say.
You slump back into the pillows as James leaves anyways. 
Remus hugs your soft abdomen. “Don't worry,” he says.
“I guess it's a good thing you've already asked me out,” you say. 
“Why, what can they do?” Remus asks, wondering if he's allowed to put his face on your chest or if that's too forward. You rake a hand through his hair and encourage him forward, to his delight. 
Frantic words. You and Remus loved up in bed despite it. 
“I'm chucking them out!” 
“James, they've been seeing for weeks. Can I go back to sleep?” 
“What?!” 
You grumble into his hair. “That's not even true… Does everyone know, then? That I liked you?” 
Remus thinks of the shadow of you in the doorway, that sheepish smile you send his way before you ask him to unclasp your necklace before bed, or your face as he’d wiped the sooty stain of mascara from your cheek last night, half in love with him as you fell asleep in his palm. 
“I don't think so, lovely,” he comforts. “Don't worry about it. We'll clear it up at lunch time. James isn't even mad, he's just sulking thinking we didn't tell him.”
“How could you not tell me?” James asks on cue, rounding the door again, arms ever tighter around the bundle of Remus’ clothes. He assumes it's being kept hostage. “I thought we were best mates.” 
“James,” you say softly, all sympathy. 
Remus likes the feeling of your voice under his ear, and your slightly too-quick heartbeat. He could fall asleep here and now if it weren't for the company. 
“It's new,” you're saying, softness melded to a sweet pride. “Okay? I've barely told Remus how I feel, of course I was going to tell you. We were only talking about it last night. It really hasn't been weeks, Sirius is a stirrer.” 
Remus pulls the covers up over your heads and climbs on top of you in a rush, demanding that the both of you be left alone, to James’ great annoyance but your delight, your laughter loud in the shell of his ear. Your chest shakes with it beneath him. 
A great wad of fabric hits him in the legs. “Twats,” James says, seemingly stalking off. 
Your whisper sends shivers down his spine. “We're alone again. Do you have anything else to ask me while you're too tired to remember?” you tease. 
There's not a chance in the world that Remus would ever forget this. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thanks for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed, it's been a little bit since I wrote for remus like this so I was actually a bit nervous and I hope it's okay :D &lt;3
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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how to stop doing the kubrick stare in selfies
how to stop doing the kubrick stare in selfies simple tutorial
how to stop doing the kubrick stare in selfies reddit
how to stop doing the kubrick stare in selfies for women
automatic kubrick stare in selfies theories explained
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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marauders era
i solemnly swear that i am up to no good ☆
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remus lupin
hot werewolf boyfriend
tale as old as time
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sirius black
sugar
things i used to do
homecoming
another one bites the dust (but it's definitely not sirius)
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james potter
pickup lines
lucky charm
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peter pettigrew
falling for you
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regulus black
candy grams
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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Why are u under 18 writing smut keep it to yourself
if it bothers you, please feel free to block me ❣️ i would hate to make anyone uncomfortable. though, it is not like i am 13, im 18 in a few months!
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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Transphobe
hi!!!! this is not a nice or normal thing to go around calling people you don't know on the internet! 💕
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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hi guys! please feel free to send in writing requests here !! i may not get to them quickly, but i will try my hardest, even if its just a little blurb or headcanons! :)
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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hi girlie ! could i please request james x reader, with him being nervous about asking popular!reader to the yule ball ? ily 🫶🏼
love this idea so much! thank u for sending it in ily 🫰
about time - james potter
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word count: 1178
warnings: not edited but other than that just jamie being a cutie pie!
a/n: thank u sm for the request !!! im so sorry it took so long i wasn't expecting to be so busy :( i hope you like it !! 🩷
It wasn’t often that James got visible anxious because of someone. Sure, Minnie had her days where she’d shoot him a stern look and he’d shrink back into his seat in class, and Moony had him walking on eggshells when it was approaching the full moon, but with you it was different. 
You’d never done anything but be sickeningly sweet to him, always smiling and waving hello when you walked past him in the hallway, and giving him tips when you were paired together in potions. 
James saw the upcoming Yule Ball as the perfect opportunity to finally ask you out. He’d been saying he would for months now, and quite frankly Remus and Sirius were getting sick and tired of hearing about it. There’s only so many times they can tell him, ‘she obviously likes you, mate’, before his insecure denial becomes unbearable to hear, as much as they love the guy.
Normally, like with Lily Evans, who he’d been forced to move on from after she’d come out as a lesbian and started dating Mary Macdonald, James would have no qualms in simply going up to a girl he thought was pretty and asking her out – usually on a clandestine trip to Honeydukes, he would always beg Moony and Padfoot to let him borrow the map. 
But with you, it was different. You were so, insanely, beautiful. Just your face was enough to stop James in his tracks, a hand placed over his ever-quickening heartbeat. 
However, your beauty wasn’t the issue. Well, it wasn’t the reason James found it difficult to function like a normal human being around you. That’s because you’re just so lovely. Though, ‘lovely’ doesn’t even begin to describe the way you light up the room whenever you walk into it, or the way your laughter pangs the heart of everyone who is lucky enough to hear it or, even luckier, the reason for it.
James had been lucky to be that reason many a time, usually not of his own volition, with you somehow always catching him doing something silly -- like that time you were walking to Potions and rounded the corner just in time to see him slip on some unknown substance on the floor. He’d yelped like a wounded animal, and you’d doubled over in laughter (not before helping him up and asking if he was okay, of course).
With the Yule Ball quickly approaching, he realised he was limited for time to ask you to be his date. Remus and Sirius had been trying to encourage him for weeks, with Remus, always the voice of reason, saying: “Mate, I have never seen you look at a girl like you do her, please just ask her out for our own sanity.”
Sirius, unable not to, chimed in with: “Yeah, what’ve you got to lose, Prongs? The worst thing she can say is no.” causing Remus to groan and shove him roughly.
“Don’t be a git, our Jamie needs help,” he cooed playfully, turning his attention back to James, who sat in front of the fire, playing nervously with a stray thread on Remus’s sweater he’d stolen earlier that day.
“Honestly, mate, I reckon you should ask her. I hate to agree with Pads on anything, but what’ve you got to lose?”
So, with encouragement from Lily and Mary, who had both been pretending to read in the lounge while listening to James’ turmoil, he decided he was going to pluck up the courage and finally ask you out. 
For once, James was thankful for potions class. He'd been paired up with you at the start of the semester, Slughorn -- the cheeky bugger -- sending him a sly wink when he'd read your names out from his list.
The class was loud -- mostly with Sirius's complaining about not having a clue what he's doing, followed by a loud groan from Remus -- when James nervously slid his stool closer to where you stood, peering into the cauldron as you stirred it. He tapped your shoulder with his pointer finger, asking for your attention, before resting his chin on his palm.
You turned to him, smile already creeping onto your face simply from his proximity.
"D'ya have a date to the ball yet?" he mumbled into his hand, eyes looking anywhere but you, focusing intently on the bubbling potion.
"Mmh? Jamie, what did you say?" you ask sweetly, placing the spoon down to balance on the rim of the cauldron.
"Y'know I can't understand what you say when you talk into your hand like that," you giggle.
He huffs, sitting up straighter on his chair, pushing his glassed up his nose -- a nervous tick you'd noticed him do often when he was talking to you.
"I just asked if -- do you have a date to the ball?"
You hear him this time, and a grin grows on your lips. You cross your arms and playfully look down your nose at him.
"Are you asking me to go with you, James?"
He's shocked at your abruptness, fidgeting in his chair uncomfortably.
"Well, I just, if you haven't been asked alr-"
You cut him off, "- you don't think I've been ask yet? Am I not pretty enough to be asked to the ball, James?"
You're playing with him, but he's too nervous to realise. You'd feel bad, maybe, if he and his little friends hadn't dyed your hair bright green just before the last fancy dress event Hogwarts had held.
He's bright red now, frustrated with himself and embarrassed.
"No, no, no, no!" he mumbles, "I just, I wanted to know if there was any point in asking you now because you -- uhm, you probably already have a date and it's stupid, I shouldn't have left it so long to ask you ou-"
He's pulled out of his ramblings by your hand over his mouth, thumb under his chin to physically stop him from speaking. He looks up at you to see you smiling brightly back at him, eyes glistening. The potion is long forgotten by now.
"Jamie," you giggle, removing your palm from his face, "I would love to go to the ball with you, silly boy. No need to get all worked up."
His jaw would've fallen open had he not willed it not to. He couldn't believe that you'd actually said yes. He could've kissed you right where you stood.
You laugh at his expression, brows furrowed in surprise and lips curled into the biggest smile you'd ever seen on the boy.
You cup his cheeks in both your hands, "I wish you'd have asked sooner, I felt silly turning down all these other guys when you hadn't even asked me yet." You smiled at him fondly, releasing his face and pecking his cheek softly, "Thanks Jamie."
You skip off, ponytail bouncing up and down with your steps, probably going to try and convince Slughorn that the potion went bad of its own volition, and James hopes you don't catch the whooping of his friends as they envelope him in cheers and high-fives.
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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he wants me so bad (he’s fictional and i read a fanfic about him)
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trumanbluee · 1 month
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if its not with you - matty healy
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minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!
content: matty's away on tour, and you miss each other dearly
word count: 1724
warnings: phone sex! established relationship, afab oc, lmk if i missed anything! xx
a/n: hi!!!! im so sorry i havent been active at all recently i've been super busy with schoolwork, here's part one of a two part thing i wrote a little while ago !!! love u <3333
She stirred as she felt her phone vibrate on the bed beside her. Eyes still shut, sleep glueing them together, she blindly felt around the bed for it, gripping it with her freshly manicured hand once she’d found it. 
Opening her eyes, she screwed her eyebrows together at the brightness of the screen, before the furrow quickly dissipated when she saw who’d disturbed her nap. Matty ❤️ was sprawled out on the top of her screen in bright white, and behind it a picture of her kissing him on the cheek, taken on their first date. Sitting up in the bed, she didn’t hesitate to accept the call. 
Instantly, she heard a tired, “Hey baby,” ring out from the other side of the phone. She smiled as she pictured him in bed, rubbing his eye sleepily as he held his phone to his ear. 
“Hi Matty,” she whispered through the phone, positioning her pillows at the head of her bed so she could sit back. “Did you just get back to your hotel?” 
“Yeah,” she heard a soft exhale followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Long day.” 
Her heart sank at the exhaustion that was so evident in his voice, and she just wished she was there with him. 
He’d been touring for 6 months now, and had been away for far too long. She missed him dearly, and these phone calls, that lasted no longer than 10-15 minutes at best, simply weren’t enough. 
She huffed, repositioning herself against her pillows before placing her phone back to her ear, “I’m sorry baby, I know you said you’d call but we don’t have to if you’re too tired. Just want you to take care of yourself, Matty.” 
She heard him shuffling against his sheets, and hoped he was getting comfortable in order to fall asleep. She loved the calls where he’d fall asleep on facetime whilst she worked, her camera roll full of screenshots he didn’t know she had, of his soft, relaxed face. 
He tutted, “Never, baby. Always wanna hear your voice after a long day. Just wish you were here instead of me havin’ to call ‘ya.”
She sighed, “I know babe, I miss you so much. When are you coming home again?” she asked, sure of the answer but wanting to hear the excitement in his tone as he said it.
“Three weeks, honey. Three weeks and then I’m never leavin’ you again.”
She laughed softly, “Yeah, I’m sure Jamie, the fans and the lads’d be happy to hear that. I can see the headlines now, ‘The 1975 breaks up because Matty refuses to ever leave his girlfriend again.’
She hears him chuckle down the phone, low and gruff, obviously strained and exhausted from the long day of rehearsals and performing. 
“I just hope that picture I sent you’s enough to tide you over for another three weeks, hon.” She said cheekily, tracing a finger up the exposed skin of her thigh, where her shorts had ridden up. 
She heard his breathe hitch slightly, and she imagined all the nights when he’d really missed her, where he’d pulled that picture up, probably saved in his ‘Baby ❤️’ album knowing him, and, laying amongst the soft white of the hotel bedding, shoved his hand into his boxers and tugged at his throbbing cock needily, until he came all over his hand. The thought made her ache, and she felt heat pooling between her thighs. 
He laughed softly, “Yeah baby, it’s been getting me through the nights. You look so sexy honey, all dressed up in pretty lingerie for me.”
She whined softly, “Fuck, miss you, Matty. S’not the same without you here.”
“S’not the same? How’s it not the same, baby?” He asked cockily, knowing in which direction she was trying to steer the conversation. 
She huffed, “Y’know what I mean.” 
He laughed softly, repositioning himself to lie further down the bed. “Humour me babe, tell me what’s not the same.” 
Having discarded her pyjama shorts, she lay with her head on the pillows, tracing lazy patterns along the soft skin of her thighs and stomach. “Fingers can’t reach all the spots you do, Matty. Need you here to help.” 
He tutted in faux sadness, “Oh my poor baby, let me see if I can help you now, huh? Why don’t you lie down on the bed and spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”
She obeyed, hurriedly pulling her favourite pair of underwear, light blue, adorned with yellow daisies, down her thighs, using her right foot to fling them somewhere in the room. 
“You good, honey? Lyin’ down f’me?” he asked, making sure she’d done what he had told her to. 
She hummed a yes, waiting to be given her next instructions. 
“Want you to start by playing with your clit a little bit, okay baby?
She quickly put her phone on speaker, laying it on the pillow beside where her head was propped up, before she snaked a hand down her body, moaning softly as her index finger began rubbing soft circles on her throbbing clit. 
“Good girl.” He spoke, slightly breathless. She could just make out the sound of him unbuckling his belt, making her thighs clench at the thought of him stroking his thick length. 
“Actually, baby, can you prop your phone up somewhere I’ll be able to see you? Can you do that, honey? 
She nodded, though she knew he couldn’t see her, and opted to prop her laptop up against the end of her bed, receiving a facetime request from Matty mere seconds later. Pressing ‘accept’ in record time, she scrambled to resume her previous position, being sure to spread her legs as wide as she could, just to make sure Matty could see as much of her as possible. 
Drawing lazy circles on her clit, the facetime finally connected, and she was met with Matty’s tired face, though she couldn’t tell if his eyes were hooded from sheer sleepiness, or horniness. Every thought wiped from her brain when he registered what was on the screen in front of him, flashing her a wide grin at the sight of her spread-legged for him. 
“Oh honey, such a good girl for me, doing what I tell you when I can’t even see it.”
She nodded, feeling her cunt get stickier as he watched her actions, speeding up slightly. 
“God, you’re gonna be the death of me sweetheart… Pussy’s so fucking pretty. Think you can fuck yourself with your fingers f’me now baby? Yeah?” He asked, though the questions were rhetorical. They were both well aware she would do just about anything and everything that he asked her to.  
However, she nodded nonetheless, looking at his pretty face on the screen in front of her as she brought the hand that wasn’t occupied with her clit down to tease her hole, swirling her index finger around the entrance teasingly. 
“Fuck, baby. S’that feel good? Huh?” He asked, though he received only soft moans and needy whines of his name in response, as she finally pushed a singular digit into her now soaking cunt. 
He threw his head back, eyebrows screwing together as he swiped a thumb across the head of his cock, smearing the pre-cum down the vein that ran along his length. Giving it three quick pumps, he began to slowly slide his fist up and down at the same time she pressed her fingers, having added a second not long after the first, into her tight pussy, a squelching sound reverberating from his laptop and around his hotel room. 
“Fuck,” He said breathlessly, “Such a good girl, baby. Takin’ those fingers so well f’me. Miss you so much, wish I was there with you right now honey.” He rambled, fist pumping his cock quicker now, as she slammed her fingers into her hole, right hand rapidly swiping across her clit as you brought yourself closer and closer to her orgasm, with Matty coaching her through it. 
“M-matty, feels so good!” She stuttered out, head thrown back against her pillows as her orgasm got closer and closer. 
He groaned as he watched her, fighting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure as he fisted his slick length. 
“C’mon baby, you - fuck, you’ve got it baby. Can you cum f’me? “He spoke, though he had to try his hardest to speak in a way that was understandable, eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm approached alongside hers. 
“F-fuck!” She moaned, legs clenching together around her hands as she came, body jolting. Almost as though the two are connected, Matty’s body tightens, and thick ropes of cum decorate his lower stomach as he groans loudly, head thrown back against his pillows. 
Silence filled both rooms, with nothing but heavy breathes from both sides of the room to fill it. Her chest rises rapidly, hair sticking to her forehead. She reaches down, still silent, and fishes her laptop from the bottom of the bed, placing it on the side of the bed that Matty would usually occupy. Turning on her side to face the computer, she sees that he’s had the same idea, and is now lying beneath the duvet, curls messy and out of place, hooded eyes staring back at her through the screen. 
She smiles sleepily, though it’s midday for her and night-time for him; her sleep schedule had been messed up by consequence of her trying to catch his shows via livestream. He smiles back, eyes lidded and eyebrows relaxed. 
“I love you, baby.” He says, eyebrows lifted, softening his fatigued features, before he smiles cheekily. “See, all you needed was a bit of help, huh honey?” 
This causes her to laugh softly, head turning into her pillow to muffle the sound. She shrugs the best she can in her position, “I love you too Matty. Would’ve been better with the real thing here though.”
His eyebrows furrow slightly at this, as if reminded of the fact that he’s looking at her through a screen, and she isn’t actually in his bed right now. 
“I know sweetheart, just three more weeks, yeah? We can do it, honey. We’ve gone this long.” Just then, he checks the time, mumbling a low “Shit”. “Sorry honey, I gotta go to sleep now. I love you, I’ll see you in three weeks.”
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