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rustedhearts · 8 months

Text

crush (college!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: academic distraction comes in the form of one tall, handsome brunet named steve.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the scholar stud masterlist ✶ main masterlist

tags: college!steve, college!reader, fluff, a little cringe sometimes, steve's a cocky douche, smut!! silly ending because i just wanted to finish it.

a/n: why, yes. the notorious college steve has returned for this one day. i hope you enjoy his rebirth.

somewhere in indiana, october 1988. tillman university.

"And that concludes today's class. Folks, don't forget the exam tomorrow, bright and early eight a.m—"

The shuffle of notebooks and folders being swept from plastic desks drowned out the bellow of Professor Brown's instructions as the class scurried to leave. Everyone knew the pub just on the edge of campus was hosting 'Beer Olympics' tonight, and most of your classmates couldn't risk losing out on even one moment in that sticky, wood-paneled bar.

Including the handsome, silky-haired Steve Harrington, who sat in front of you and chewed on his pen for the entire hour of English 231: British Literature. At first, the incessant clicking of teeth against plastic and ink drove you insane.

But once, he whirled around when the cap went flying and landed on your desk, and the smile he passed you seemed sweet and bashful. The rosiness on his cheeks pretty, the hazel of his eyes against the fluorescents dreamy. He started murmuring to you during class discussions, begging for explanations on 'what the hell that Shakespeare guy was talking about.'

Steve Harrington might've shared a love for the stupid and the insane like the rest of the population on Tillman's campus, but he had the good grace to display it such a wonderful way that you didn't even mind.

You shuffled back to your dorm, bundled in a scarf and wool-lined coat, prepared to settle cozily into bed and study for tomorrow's test—your roommate, however, had other ideas.

"I need you to come with me," she whined as you removed your layers and tossed them on the bed. "This is my one chance for James to see how hot I am."

A cackle shot from your mouth, though you softened to pity as your roommate's shoulders drooped. James was her very own Steve: handsome, a year or two her senior, and a complete academic distraction. Her attempts to get his attention have lengthened weeks now, but all to no avail.

"I don't know...I have an exam tomorrow—"

"Oh, God, please," she groaned, falling back on her bed across the room. The springs yipped. "Chaucer is more important than the state of my love life?"

"What is the state of your love life?"

"Dead!"

You bit back a grin, swallowing all amusement when your roommate rolled onto her side and frowned at you. Like a little sister begging to be included, she rounded her eyes and jutted her lip.

"C'mon, please?" she whined. "You can bring your stuff to study, I'm sure there's a quiet corner. They have food, too! Come on, I'll buy you shitty bar wings!"

Eyeing her weepy, desperate eyes and your piles of highlighted notes, you mulled over the options with half-hearted sincerity. You were 95% sure you would ace this exam tomorrow, and the study session was for 'just in case.' Who were you to stand in the way of your roommate's apparent true love?

"And onion rings," you added.

Bouncing into a seated position, your roommate beamed and clapped her hands together sharply. "Anything."

✶ ✶

"Okay, here." Two plastic baskets of sticky barbecue wings and crispy, golden onion rings slid your way across a poorly-cleaned wooden hightop. "Are you good by yourself over here? I saw James by the pool table."

Grinning like a toddler with a treat, you reached for a wing with gentle fingers and nodded. "Yep, I'm perfect. Go get your man!"

Relief flooded her features, all dolled up and sparkly. She popped a quick kiss to your cheek and spun around, sweeping a hand over her hair to tame the frizz.

"Okay, I'm going in."

You watched her trot away in heels she could barely squeeze into with a giggle. She eased her way into a group of people near the pool table, lingering close enough to the blond-haired James without seeming desperate. You'd seen your roommate dizzy-headed around plenty of men before, but James turned her into something else.

The corner she found you was as quiet as a bar corner could be at eight o'clock on the night of a campus-wide event. Purses and backpacks piled in the corner of your booth, potently scented with sweet perfume and cigarette smoke. The lights were low back here, and most of your notes came scanned in the neon blue glow of the Budweiser sign hanging behind your head. Once your eyes adjusted to the hue, and the rowdy buzz of your peers faded away, you honestly found enjoyment in your little corner.

Until—

"Well hello, Oh studious one," a voice bellowed over the noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Steve Harrington, handsome, pink-cheeked, and a little bleary-eyed, sauntered toward your table with a beer in hand. He bent over your textbook, elbows creasing the onion skin pages, and flashed you a sideways grin. You thanked the blue lights for concealing the heat in your face.

"I'm quite surprising."

He chuckled, condensation dripping from the amber bottle in hand when he pointed the mouth of it toward the contents of your table. "And you're...reading. At a bar."

You clicked your pen, swiping a lukewarm onion ring from its basket. "I'm studying for our test tomorrow."

Steve lifted his gaze from the book, returning it to your face—his own blank and thoughtless. He's slow to lift the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth, and the swig he takes comes with furrowed brows.

The bottle pops away with a sharp release of suction. "Test?"

Giggling, you slap your hand onto your book. "Are you serious? Professor Brown just told us about it, like, four hours ago."

Steve straightened up, removing himself from your book. A large hand swept over the top of his hair, darkened with dampness from the exertion of Beer Olympic seriousness.

"Ohhh, that test," he snarked. "The test on...."

He trailed so far you worried he'd get lost, and as you tipped your chin down and fixed him with an incredulous look, you had mercy on him. "Chaucer."

Steve blinked again, eyes as glazed over and empty as a doe's. "Who?"

You succumbed to your amusement, a chorus of giggles bubbling over. "You're helpless."

Steve shrugged, cheek meeting his shoulder with an air of coolness. His body tipped sideways, one elbow returning to its place on your wrinkled pages to lean his weight on the table.

"Maybe so."

You took a small bite of your onion ring, which had lost all its crisp, and took your turn to blink blankly. But the boy was patient, knuckles rapping on the table in an offbeat tune as you lingered in the pause. Finally, overcome by his own impatience, Steve set his bottle on the table and slid even closer. You could feel the warmth of his body, exuding alcohol-laced sweat and a back alley cigarette soaked into the dampness of his t-shirt. Black cotton, thinned with sweat, drenched in leathery cologne applied hours ago.

"Maybe...you could help me then," he suggested, tone sauced with boyish charm.

Heat flooded your face like a dam bursting, rushing like a hot-blooded throb. You shifted on the sticky booth, boots clunking together beneath the table. The bits of soggy breading balled in your throat.

"I—" You swallowed, hands gripping the booth beneath you with urgency. "I-t-that could—"

Steve plucked his beer bottle from the table, sliding a step away from the table. His friends crowded around the pool table, where your roommate and her very own version of Steve were pressed against the wall, murmuring in close proximity.

"So, tomorrow?" He took another shuffled step back, a glint in his eye like he already knew his work was done.

He had you.

You swallowed again, tongue darting out to wet your dry mouth. "But...the test will be over by then."

Steve cupped his hand around his ear, eyes squinting as you grew smaller with every step back. "What? I can't—you're so far away! I can't hear you."

Amusement glimmered through, shattering your stunned stupor and bringing you back to life. Another mindless giggle tumbled from your mouth, and Steve savored it as he turned just enough to miss your pretty face.

"See you tomorrow!" he called.

You watched the plain of his broad back make its way into the crowd again, falling into a chorus of hoops and hollers and flushed, sticky bodies. You watched him douse himself in beer from a poorly-crafted beer bong held by a sloppy drunk. You watched him until you felt like a giddy schoolgirl, and did your best to return to your work and wait to take your leave.

And Steve stole glances when he knew you were no longer looking, hoping you'd really show.

✶ ✶

"I can't believe this is happening."

"I'm already nervous enough, please stop saying that."

"I'm sorry!" your roommate shrieked, hands slapping against her cheeks as she watched you fix your hair for the millionth time in the mirror on the floor. "I just...I just can't."

"Okay, but you can tell me if my outfit is good. Is it-is it okay? What does it say to you?"

You hopped to your feet, whirling around to show your carefully crafted outfit. You spent all night holding your roommate's hair back and pondering over your outfit in your head; daydreaming about what Steve would say once he had you in his dorm room, which he slipped by your table with beer-laced instructions to meet him at when the night dwindled down.

Now here you were, clammy palmed and losing your mind. Was this some sort of trick? A dare? Was he playing a joke on you?

“It says: ‘I want Steve Harrington to fuck me.’ But in a very chic, understated way.”

Huffing, you did your best to ignore the swirl in your belly at the thought of Steve mirroring your roommate’s beliefs.

“I’m leaving. You’re no help,” you half-heartedly scolded, swiping your bag on the way toward the door.

But if Steve Harrington wanted to fuck you, you certainly had no objections.

He had a sloppily scrawled sign on his dorm room door declaring it his place of residence (and whoever the hell Eddie Munson was). You swallowed as you brought your knuckles to the wood, smoothing your hair once more as footsteps shuffled behind it. It swung open with a gust of warm, woodsy air. His cologne filled the room like a potent candle, and you took a brief moment to suppress a cough before taking in his smooth, half cocked grin.

“Hey, pretty,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms.

Huffing a laugh, you fiddled with the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve took a moment to drink you in, tongue inching between his lips to wet it as he shuffled back a step. His hand pushed the door open all the way, revealing a recently-cleaned bedroom adorned with two double-twins and a desk warm with amber lamplight. You immediately knew which posters were his—all sports related and signed.

“Come on in, get comfy.”

You took tiny steps inside, shivering when he breezed by in another whoosh of air to close the door behind you. The heat of his body, lingering close behind as you inspected the room, nipped at that gooey, mushy part of you that ached for him. The same part of you that rendered you a distracted, brainless mess in class when he spoke or flexed that strong arm with a grip around his pen.

“Thirsty?”

Whirling around, you found Steve standing near the desk, watching you with fixed and glinting hazel eyes.

Your face warmed twenty degrees. “Sorry?”

He motioned toward a mini fridge under the desk, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Something to drink?”

You breathed a laugh, swinging your bag off your shoulder. “Oh, um, sure.”

You had to look away when he bent to pull it open, the strain of tendons and cords of muscle in his tan, lean arms enough to make your mouth pool with water. Christ, you were ridiculous. You turned toward the dark, black fabric-clad side of the room where his roommate must’ve lived.

“So, um, the test was pretty easy this morning, but we can still—“

“Look at you. God, you’re so beautiful.”

The cold condensation of a Coke can pressing against your arm was the first to startle you—whirling around with a sharp-edged gasp. Then the sound of his words, rasped behind your ear, bringing goosebumps to your skin. His body, so close you could feel his warmth, smell the mint on his freshly-brushed teeth.

Standing this close, you could feel his breath tickle your cheeks, could see the shiny sheen of spit on his mouth from his tongue.

"W-what?"

Steve just shook his head, a dumfounded wonderment glistening in his eye. "You heard me."

Your jaw slackened, lips parting to utter some stupefied response, mind turning to soupy mush at the sudden proximity. Before you could even attempt some silly, bashful disagreement, Steve collected your chin in his hand. Pinched between gentle fingers, he guided your mouth up to his own until their softness touched.

The Coke can clattered to the ground and rolled toward the desk as his mouth closed over yours. You perked on your toes, fingers curling into fists as they lifted toward his shoulders, broad and firm. You couldn't believe this was happening. You always thought he tossed you looks during class, that he might've lingered a little too long when he walked to his desk just to watch you sit there.

You never imagined it could be true. That Steve Harrington wanted you the way you wanted him.

“You could’ve,” an interruption of kisses stopped you short, the click of spit and lips echoing off cinderblock, “at least…mm, pretended—oh! T-to study.”

“Couldn’t wait,” Steve mumbled against your mouth, teeth scraping your bottom lip, breath hot against your tongue.

Arousal flushed hot in your body, stomach squeezing in time with the fluttered successions of excitement provoked by his roaming hands. They stroked down your arms and toward your waist, slipping through the curves to hold you firmly. Another gasp bled into his open mouth when he tugged you close.

"This is so much better than Chaucer," he breathed, mouth sliding over your lips to your cheek where he pressed a firm and sloppy kiss.

"Mhm," you pipped dazedly, head tipping to follow his affections.

Thighs bumping the edge of the bed, you allowed Steve to guide you onto the black duvet of the mattress behind you. It rumpled with the hurried shuffle of bodies climbing over. Steve tugged you by the calves when you met the pillow, pulling you flat beneath him. He dipped with eager excitement to collect another kiss as your thighs bookended his hips.

"Test was already graded," Steve muttered, nudging your jaw with his nose to move it aside and fit his head in your neck. "Got...mm...eighty-five."

Heaving for air, you ruffled your fingers through the thickness of his hair: soft and slipping between your hands like silk. Blinded by the tingling buzz reverberating through your bones, you could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence aloud. Steve's lips suctioned to the column of your throat, and your body gave a jolt.

"Th-thought you didn't know anything."

Steve chuckled, and the sound grumbled through you like a firework. You gave another jerk, fingers twisting in his hair, hips canting up against the firmness of his jeans.

"M' not stupid," he mumbled into your neck, nipping with gentle teeth at your earlobe. "Just so distracted. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout you behind me."

"Oh, Steve," you scoffed, eyes opening blearily to blink at the tiled ceiling, browned with old water stains. His hair tickled your cheek, cologne bathing you in masculine comfort.

Steve lifted his head, peering down at you with rosy cheeks and swollen lips. "You don't believe me?"

You let your hands fall from his hair, smoothing over the firmness of his shoulders. The stretch of your thighs around him began to burn in the most delicious way, and the tufts of chest hair slipping from his grey t-shirt made you shift on the bed. You wanted him. Like a mad woman, some nymphomaniac, lust-ridden fiend.

"I don't know," you sighed, running a finger down his chest. "Let's just...talk about it later."

Steve watched you a moment, eyes scanning your face with scrutiny. When heat swelled in your flesh, his lips coiled into a grin, eyes alight with amusement.

"Ohhh, I see. Poor little baby just can't wait. Y' want me, pretty girl?"

You bobbed your head fervently, the beginning of a pout even toying with your lips. He rendered you ridiculous and stupid, and later, you might've even felt embarrassed about how easy it was for Steve Harrington to have you whining.

But right now, all you cared about were his hands, big and rough and warm to the touch, taking off your shirt.

"Don't worry, honey," Steve cooed breathlessly, eyes traveling to the newly exposed flesh. "You've got me."

As his hands explored and grabbed at flesh, your own slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, splaying over the soft skin beneath. He was quick to shed himself of the layer, and you did your best to admire the build revealed as he trailed kisses between your breasts. He led them all the way down to your navel, and then over the curve of flesh leading to the waistband of your pants. Steve hooked his fingers in the belt loops and tugged harshly, practically ripping them from your thighs and down over your feet.

He captured his lip between his teeth as he settled between your legs again, fingers pinching and kneading at the flesh like soft dough. "And I've got you. Ain't that right?"

You grew dizzy with your nodding, so petulantly desperate and pleading. Steve grinned at it, index tracing the lace of your underwear with explorative wonderment as he watched your eyes well up. He was certain if he prolonged your pleasure any more, he'd have you weeping.

"Don't cry, honey," he soothed, peeling your panties off by the lace band. "Steve's gotcha."

In the back of your mind, you rolled your eyes and giggled at the ridiculous confidence Steve seemed to think he could get away with—but in reality, you were too busy lifting your hips to meet Steve's fingers, brushing just gently over your core as he undid his belt with the other hand. The buckle clinked and clunked with a toss, clattering to the tile floor somewhere near Steve's side of the room, where your backpack and all its contents spilled in the erotic chaos of Steve's impatience.

When the pair of you were bare, Steve breached the distance—flesh on flesh exuding heat that glistened in a haloed sheen. His mouth worked over yours a while longer, melting you down just a little more into absolutely nothing. Hands coaxing your limbs to release their tensions, your muscles to relax and ease into him. You trusted him more than anything, warmed by his gentle affections. No man had ever been so sweet and slow.

The crinkle of foil came like tv static, muffled and low. And then something larger than his fingers was brushing your core, slipping through the slickness pooling. He rubbed the tip along your most sensitive, delicate spot just enough to have you whimpering and twisting, before sliding into your entrance with slow, meticulous purpose.

Steve groaned as he pushed further, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your thighs quaked against his ribs, hoisted high and holding on tight. You reached for his hair again, desperate for more of him.

"You okay, honey?" Steve mumbled against your cheek, fanning hot breath into your ear.

You shivered at the grumble of his voice rattling through you, nodding once more. "Y-yeah. Keep going, please."

He huffed a chuckle, shifting his hips to push a little deeper and revel in the gasp you shot out.

"Please," he mocked, kissing your damp cheek. "So sweet."

When he sank in completely, you could've sworn you saw the light. A burning sting that had you writhing crawled through your thighs and up your back, settled even deep in your stomach where the thickness of him rested. He nuzzled into your neck with a low grunt of relief, giving you the space of his back to run your fingers down and kiss mindlessly. Steve seemed to be no better, losing himself in the warmth of your body wrapped around him.

"Steve, please."

Your voice stirred him from his hazy, lust-drunk stupor; he quickly readjusted to lift off his arms.

"Shh, shh, 've got you."

Like revving an engine, Steve gave a few short thrusts before settling into a pace of slow, deep humps that came like timed successions. You gasped and groaned with every one, nails biting into the warm, clammy skin of his shoulders. Once he knew you were satisfied and free of discomfort, Steve took his moment to brush your hair out of your face with a heavy, sweeping palm. He peppered kisses all over your face, delicate brushes of his mouth over your eyelids and nose, firmer across your mouth and cheeks.

Who knew Steve Harrington would be so sweet?

“Knew you’d feel so good,” he whined into your ear, pace quickening a bit with eagerness.

“So good,” you parroted, a high pitched and nasally lilt congealing your voice.

But he was just that good.

The room quieted to a blend of slick skin clicking and the bated, hoarse breaths of erotic thrill. You weren’t sure how long it truly went on, but the world just fell away around you. Blackened in a vignette of vision, hazed over with heavenly satisfaction. Your body buzzed in some muffled, distant way—you felt like just a mind in a body, being taken away. It was hard to focus on anything other than Steve, rocking into you and leaving kisses on your neck.

When your hiccuped breath shifted to sharp mewls, clawed from somewhere deep in your chest, Steve reared back and steadied his hands on your hips. He slowed to a glacial pace, watching his own cock prod at the flesh beneath your navel, your own slickness gather at his pelvis. He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing firmly into the delicate nub to focus a gentle, circular massage. You twisted and writhed like a woman enraged with demonic possession, and your grip on his forearms felt like something out of The Exorcist.

But it was all worth it to watch your face balloon with heat, flooding every vein with scorching pleasure until air became nothing but a lifeline. Steve was glad to even press pause on his own pleasure just to see you summit. Your chest trembled with a quaking roar, limbs succumbing to weakness in the daze. Vision clouded with grey static, streaked with a pool of tears.

When you were positively spent, Steve carefully unsheathed, squeezing his fist around his cock with firm pressure and bringing it to hover over your stomach.

“This okay, sweetheart?” he managed to grit out, neck bulging with veins, cheeks growing red.

You could barely nod, swiping your hand through the thin layer of sweat along his arm. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh God—fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Warmth splattered across your abdomen, like a gentle flicker of water across your skin. The squelching sound of Steve fucking his fist died down, mirroring the dwindle of moans and groans from the boy himself. He fell forward heavily, catching himself with one hand beside your head. His nose brushed your cheek, catching his breath against the clammy skin.

“Christ,” he heaved, jutting a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We owe Chaucer a big one.”

Before you could giggle or scoff, the door swung open with a chittering screech. Steve scrambled to grab the comforter and shield your bare, sticky bodies, both your heads snapping toward the doorway as a shaggy-haired boy stomped through: his roommate.

“Harrington, what the fuck?”

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frantic-fiction · 1 month

Note

Hi!! I love your astarion stories so much, you are such a talented writer!

I have a bit of a weird request for an 18+.

I've heard theories that if a vampire like astarion drinks enough human blood that there's a slight chance he's able to get someone pregnant 👀 ...

I'm wondering if you could do a smut like something along the lines of astarion having a huge breeding kink, so he and Tav are experimenting with him drinking maybe more than he should of her but it's worth it if they have a chance at having a kid or something? Basically just asking for a smut about astarion having a breeding kink🥺

thank you so much for all you do!! Once again like I said you are so talented, and if you do decide to do something with this I'd love to be in the tag list.

Okay first off, this comment is everything thank you. You are just too nice I can't 🥰....and well I had so much fun writing this so I hope you like it lovely!

I Want 18+

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, Breeding kink, fingering, dry humping, slight daddy kink if you squint, Astarion being lovesick, slight dom/sub maybe? idk

Word Count: 2.5k of pure filth

Mastarlist

It started with a chapter in an obnoxiously repetitive book about vampires and their spawns. You had gifted it to him with a poorly concealed giggle on your lips.

Most of the content was either incorrect or exaggerated, and Astarion couldn't help but chuckle at the foolishness of it all. He was ready to throw the damned thing into the fireplace when his eye drifted over a passage.

Dhampirs: Creatures born from the union of a human and a vampire. The conception is incredibly rare, but the likelihood increases if the vampire indulges in a significant amount of the human's blood prior to sex.

Now, it can't seem to leave Astarion's mind. The idea of you being pregnant, being able to watch your stomach swell with his child, witnessing your breast grow and your hips fill out. How sensitive would you get as your pregnancy progresses? Would you crave him more than you do now? These thoughts alone have him throbbing in his trousers.

However, what sealed Astarion's fate was seeing you with Gale's newborn baby girl. The way love filled your heart the moment your eyes landed on that little girl sleeping soundly in the wizard's arms. How delicate you cradle the young one's head as soon as she's in your grasp, softly cooing down at the little bundle, stroking the smooth pink skin of her cheek.

And when you turned to him with that sweet smile that never fails to make Astarion weak in the knees, asking if he wishes to hold baby Dekarios. How could he say no?

Astarion never cared for fatherhood, but the moment that baby girl was in his arms, opening her eyes with that dopey, toothless smile, he was done for. And when she grabbed his pointer finger with her tiny hand, gripping it lightly with all her strength. Astarion knew he wouldn't stop trying until you were carrying his child.

You were finishing up the dishes, hips swaying to a tune only you could hear. The summer heat had you in shorts that fell just below the swell of your rear and a sheer top that revealed your lack of a bra. It's been a week since the visit to the Dekarios, and Astarion can no longer hold back the desires that burn deep in his body.

Astarion approaches silently, a predator stalking his prey. You rub your nose on your shoulder, trying to scratch an itch while your hands are covered in suds, groaning in annoyance when that fails to help.

Gods, you're adorable.

You're so carefree and relaxed, looking so soft, warm, and delicate. All open to his wandering hands and his greedy mouth. Astarion can already feel himself stiffen just from the knowledge of what he has in store for you.

A startled scream leaves your lips as Astarion's cold arms snake around your waist and pulls you against his hard chest. It does make him feel bad for a moment, but the delicate sigh that follows as he kisses up your jaw is enough to make up for it.

"Hello, my love." Astarion hums against your skin. His nimble fingers trail over your stomach, teasing the valley of your breast, taking careful movements to ghost his thumb over your sensitive nipple. A gasp leaves your sinful mouth, and you arch your back.

"H-hey," you breathe, and when Astarion grinds his tented pants against your backsides, you let out the most delicious whimper. "What are you up to, Star?"

His only response is a breathy laugh as he turns you around and pulls you into a kiss. Signing into his mouth, you hook your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. It's messy, with soapy hands and mingling tongues, but it leaves you breathless. Astarion teases your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away to bite your jaw playfully, relishing the surprised yelp you give him.

Astarion quickly lifts you onto the countertop, where he can nestle between your plush thighs. Your wandering hands move up to tangle into his curls and give a tug. Astarion obliges your silent request and resumes the kiss, licking deeply into your mouth. He's lost in the subtle floral scent of your shampoo and the taste of your lips.

You pull him away with your chest, heaving in deep pants. "Astarion, what are you--" He smirks when you trail off into a breathy moan as his teeth nibble at your ear.

"Darling, do you remember that book you gifted me?" Astarion's hands trail down your side, and you part your legs more for his reaching fingers.

"Y-yes, the one you scoffed at and threw in the corner?" Still having the sense of mind to tease him, he chuckles when your quip spills into a moan when the pad of his thumb presses against your covered clit.

Astarion is pleased with the dampening fabric of your shorts. Your responsiveness never ceases to leave him aching with need. He begins to move his finger lightly back and forth against the fabric. It's not enough to give you what you want, but it has you whining for more.

"Well, I must admit the poor excuse for educational text did have some interesting information." Astarion moves his thumb a bit rougher against your clit.

"What -fuck- what interesting information are we talking about?"

Astarion doesn't respond immediately, slipping his hand under the band of your shorts. He swipes his deft fingers through your dripping folds and begins to tease your entrance while he continues to rub tight circles against your sensitive bud. You gasp and drop your head to his shoulder, rolling your hips into his palm. Astarion cups the back of your neck with his spare hand and tilts your head back. You meet his heated gaze with lidded eyes and mouth agape.

"Dhampirs." Astarion purrs, plunging two of his fingers into your dripping core, curling up just enough to have you gasping his name.

Your fingernails dig into his forearm, clinging for anything to ground you. Astarion waits for you to react, loving the way you roll your hips in time with his fingers, desperate for all that he gives you. It seems you're lost in your pleasure or not quite catching on to what he's implying because you're looking at him, clearly not following his words.

"Half-vampires, my sweet."

You clench around his fingers, letting out a soft whimper that would have gone unheard without his heightened hearing. He smirks, picking up the pace. Astarion grabs your chin, guiding you to look at him.

"Does that excite you, darling?"

"Gods, shit," You breathe. "Please, don't stop."

"You would look so beautiful carrying our child. Hells, imagine."

Astarion trails his fangs over the skin of your neck, sucking on the pinprick from the previous night. His hips are now rutting against your leg and the edge of the counter, only enough to ease the ache in his groin. Astarion can feel you getting close just by the little jolts of your hips and the tight squeeze of your cunt.

"Do you want my child, love?" Astarion hums against your skin. "Do you want me to fill you to the brim with my seed, fuck you until you're a dripping mess? Until there's a little one growing in your womb."

"Please! Fuck, I'm going t-"

"Come for me, my sweet girl."

You cry out his name, and just as your orgasm rakes through your body, Astarion sinks his teeth into your neck and begins his feed. You're lost to the pleasure, your walls spasming around his fingers. He helps you ride out your release, never unlatching from your neck.

Astarion takes large, greedy gulps of your blood, far more than his usual fill. The book said a significant amount of blood was needed, leaving much to be interpreted. Astarion only stopped when you nudged him on the shoulder.

When he pulls away, you wipe the small trickle of blood that dribbles down Astarion's chin. Delicately he grabs your hand and sucks your thumb into his mouth, licking it clean.

"Astarion, let's go to our room. I think we have some things to explore," you say with a tempting smile.

Astarion is carrying you out of the kitchen and down the hall without another word, his lips locked onto yours.

You're giggling against Astarion's mouth as he kicks the door open and tosses you carelessly on the bed. You bounce on the mattress and watch the vampire hastily tear at the buttons of his shirt.

Tossing the fabric away, Astarion looks at you and unbuckles his trousers. The sight alone nearly has him cumming in his pants. There you are, lounging with that devious gaze, biting your lip and groping your breast like the tease you are.

"Fuck, sweetheart," Astarion breathe, practically ripping the rest of his clothes from his body. "Take your clothes off for me."

You do as you're told and quickly strip until you're bare and spread out like a feast just for him. Astarion now kneels naked at the foot of the bed and grabs your ankle, giving a gentle kiss to your calf.

"I've thought about nothing else but getting you pregnant since I read that foolish book," Astarion says, kissing his way up your leg. "Watching your stomach grow round with our child," He kisses and licks the soft flesh of your abdomen.

"Astarion," you sigh.

"To get the pleasure of taking care of you. Rubbing your swollen feet, and massage your aching back, even fetching every one of the disgusting cravings your pregnancy gives you."

"Says the blood drinker." You scoff, glaring down at Astarion between the valley of your breasts.

Astarion ignores you and bites at your chest playfully. "You would make such a lovely mother, darling. Please, love, let me make you a mother."

Astarion's words are laced with a tone of desperation. He might have been embarrassed if not for the need that consumes him: a need to see you nod at him with your beautiful smile, a need to hear you say you want this just as much as him, that you want to start a family with him, however unlikely it might be.

And then you nod your head and frantically pull him up into a kiss, and Astarion feels like he's alive once again.

"Gods, yes." You mumble, slinging your legs around him and pulling him down against your body.

Astarion licks into your mouth, kissing you like a man starved. You're just as desperate, grinding up against him, seeking friction, and letting out little whines against his mouth. Wandering hands trails down his back and between your two bodies, and Astarion lets out a pathetic moan when you grip his leaking cock, giving him a few teasing pumps.

"You're going to be such a good daddy, Astarion." You whisper sinfully in his ears as he fucks your hand. "Going to take good care of me and our little one."

"Hells, you wicked thing." Astarion grunts.

You run your thumb over the head, giving him a playful squeeze. Hot, open-mouth kisses are littered across his chest and up his neck until your mouth is right against his ear. Your warm breath floats over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Astarion love, I need you to put a baby into me."

Astarion nods, seemingly breathless, as you line him up at your weeping cunt. He presses in, and the room fills with debauched moans. You grab his neck, slamming your mouths back together, tongues back into their messy dance. Saliva coats each other's lips, but neither can get enough. Astarion grunts deep in his chest when you scratch your nails over his scalp.

"Oh my love, I'm going to fuck you until you're leaking with my cum. Filled to the brim until you can't take anymore." Astarion grabs your legs and pulls them over his shoulders, and you cry at the change in angle. "Then tomorrow I'll do the same, and the day after. Until we know for sure our baby is growing in your womb."

"Yes, Star. Wanna baby." You slur against him, pressing warm kisses wherever your lips can touch.

Astarion was fucking you as if this was his life goal. As if nothing else matters but the delicious feeling of his cock thrusting against your walls, pressing deep against your cervix. Seeing all of you with your cheek flushed and your chest rising and falling with rapid pants of breath, knees against your chest. Your eyes lidded, gazed over in pleasure, and your hair a mess against the white of the pillow. It was the sexiest display Astarion has ever had the pleasure to see.

"You're so beautiful. Gods, I love you."

"Love you," You try to say but choke on a moan. Your hands wander down his back and across his chest, seeming not to know where you want to touch.

Astarion is close but determined to feel you come around him before finding his release. Thankfully, he won't need to wait long because you're on the edge. So close. He can tell just by the way your gummy walls spasm around his cock, and the way your hips are jutting up against each of his thrusts.

"I know you're close, darling. Can you come for me? I want to feel you squeeze me while I fill you."

And with those sinful words, it was almost like you were waiting for his permission because as soon as they left his mouth, you were falling over the precipice. You clench down on him, a pleasured sob breaking free of your throat. The feeling of you alone was enough to tip him over, and he quickly found his release spilling his seed deep into your abused cunt.

The room stills, the scent of sweat and sex clings to the air. Astarion lets your legs fall to the side and maneuvers both of your bodies so that he's lying on his back and you're resting on top of him, head on his chest. Astarion rubs your back and kisses your hairline as you catch your breath. You trace lines across his skin, lost in thought at what had happened.

"So should I expect a little vampling running around soon?" you ask, looking up at him.

Astarion huffs a small laugh through his nose and kisses your forehead. "Human and Vampire reproduction is unlikely but not impossible," Astarion explains without the rush of arousal clogging both of your minds. "But I think we've done many remarkable things together, wouldn't you agree, my love."

You smile brightly and kiss his chest. "Yes, we do have a knack for doing the impossible. And I'm very, very eager to keep trying."

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cvspians · 5 months

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the great war | aemond targaryen (part two)

Haven't read part 1? click here

Summary: The night Aemond Targaryen visits Storm's End, he loses everything.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Warnings: Show spoilers, cursing, a fun family dinner, the word bastard again, Rhaenyra getting called a misogynistic word, reader has beef with Aegon, Aemond being mean, reader being a protective older sister, angsty angst, mentions of blood, and death

Word Count: 7.8k words.

Notes: I'm so glad you guys loved part 1! To be honest, I was so nervous to publish the first part because I'm a person who is never satisfied with my writing due to my perfectionist tendencies. This is longer than part 1, I got a bit carried away and didn't want to publish a third part. This is sad, you all know what's coming. Hopefully, I did the ending justice, I'm literally already hating it. Also sorry for doing y'all like that LMAO. This hasn't been proofread so excuse any mistakes! I tagged those who asked me in the comments!

Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy!

Aemond loved you, he really did, but he also hated your brothers.

He tried to keep his cool for your sake, faking smiles that hurt his cheeks and uttering kind words that left a bad taste in his mouth on the rare occasion that your family was around.

But Lucerys had taken something from him that could never be replaced.

His injury might've healed, the scars no longer red and tender, but the pain was still there. Fresh and raw, always gnawing away at his heart and sanity. He remembers the stares he received after the incident – he could still feel the pity from those around the castle, the whispers from Lords who visited on business, and the poorly masked looks of disgust from their wives and daughters.

Aemond hated it. He hated how everyone seemed to think he was a fragile and unfortunate thing just because he had lost an eye. He had the biggest dragon in all of Westeros for God's sake!

So as time passed he learned to build walls around himself for protection. He no longer hid behind his mother's skirts nor did he cower away in fear. He began to spend his time in the training yard with Ser Criston.

At first, it was hard. His coordination wasn't the same due to his lost eye but Aemond didn't give up. He trained hard, harder than his brother who preferred to spend his time with his nose buried between the thighs of whores and bottles of wine.

Soon enough Aemond was no longer the boy who got pushed around. He wore his eyepatch with pride, glaring and proving those who underestimated him wrong.

When he married you, he was worried you would not only hate him but also find him disgusting or at least be scared of him. But you proved him wrong. You told him how beautiful he was, kissed the scars around his eye, and showered him with love.

That was all it took for his walls to come crumbling down, allowing you to worm your way inside and cement your claim.

So yes, Aemond did love you but that wasn't enough to forgive your brothers for what they did to him.

You were seated next to him at the dinner table, chatting with Helaena and occasionally giggling at the poorly made jokes your brother Luke threw your way. He loved the sound of your laugh and could listen to it on repeat for hours, but at that very moment, he wanted nothing more than to bang his head against the table.

He refrained from doing so knowing you would scold him for it and his mother would glare until she became cross-eyed.

Viserys had called for a family dinner the same night after the shitshow that was the presentation. Aemond had promised that no one would be angry with you if you skipped it but you were feeling much better.

Besides, you yearned to finally have dinner with both sides of your family.

You couldn't remember the last time something like this happened.

Your grandfather had held a toast, congratulating your siblings for their betrothals before he turned to you and Aemond, a smile on his gravely ill face.

"And to my only granddaughter. I have had the pleasure of watching you turn from a little girl to a woman grown. You remind me so much of your mother," Rhaenyra sniffed at this, a smile on her face as she looked between you and her father. You had a smile on your own face, cheeks warm due to the attention you were receiving. Aemond set a hand on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze as he fought down a smile.

"It saddens my heart that Aemma isn't here to witness this. She would've loved her grandchildren" The side of your table tensed a bit at the mention of your late grandmother and you felt Otto's heated gaze on the side of your face which you ignored.

Daemon snorted at the expression Alicent was attempting to shield.

Viserys was none the wiser as he continued his speech." I hope you and Aemond live a long life full of love and children" He finished addressing you with a breathless chuckle and you softly thanked him with a bow of your head.

The king slowly reached up and took off the mask, revealing his empty eye socket and disfigured cheek.

You gulped, eyes averting from his face.

It wasn't a pleasant sight like Aemond's. The skin on the right side of your grandfather's face was rotting off, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. If you squint hard enough from your seat you would be able to see the inside of his mouth.

"Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided" He wheezed out, chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. "But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown... then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly"

I wish, you thought. The divide between your families ran deep, not even yours and Aemond's marriage could mend it.

No one spoke for a bit after he was finished. Until your mother stood, cup raised.

"I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife" Alicent was slightly taken aback as she stared up at your mother with an unreadable expression.

You knew of their history, your mother had told you. Best friends who fell off each other's graces after Alicent married your grandfather and became Queen, filling your mother with a feeling of betrayal.

You couldn't even attempt to imagine how that would feel.

"She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology" Rhaenyra finished and sat back down. Everyone stared at the Queen expectantly, waiting for her response.

"Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess" Alicent finally said, eyes darting around the room before falling back to your mother who was now looking at her with an unreadable expression of her own. "We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow" The Queen continued before standing up, her chair dragging back a bit at the force.

"I raise my cup to you and to your house. You will make a fine queen"

You noticed your mother trying to hide her smile as you made a move to grab your cup just as everyone else did. You took a sip of the sweet wine and softly hummed in contentment as the warm after-effects of the alcohol kicked in.

Aemond did the same with his free hand as his other was still resting on your thigh. He gave it another squeeze and you turned your attention to him, confusion written on your features as you wondered if he had something to say to you.

"I love you," He whispered loud enough for you to hear and you couldn't help but break out in a grin. "I love you too" You answered, quickly leaning forward and planting a kiss on his cheek.

His face grew hot at the action and he quickly scanned the table to see if anyone was looking but thankfully everyone had returned to their separate conversations. His attention turned back to you but you had already turned to listen to Helaena who was happily informing you about the new bugs she had found while out in the yard earlier.

You were nodding along, demonstrating you were listening, when your gaze fell on Aegon who was standing in between Jace and Baela, whispering something that was clearly no good considering Jace's jaw clenched in response.

On instinct, you turned to look at Aemond, eyes pleading for him to do something but your twin brother was faster. Jace's fists slammed on the table, startling everyone else from their conversations.

You could see he was trying to reign in his anger. Next, you felt Aemond stand and you turned to look up at him, eyes wide as he stared at your brother with a look you didn't like.

It's as if he were challenging him, daring him to do whatever it was he was thinking.

Jacaerys was staring right back at him with the same expression but when he met your eyes – pleading – he settled on softly punching Aegon's shoulder in an attempt to appear playful before grabbing his cup and raising it in the air.

"To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, as his eyes roamed, hope we may yet be friends and allies" Jace toasted, his smile forced as he turned to look at everyone at the table, observing him quietly.

Aemond was still standing, watching him like a hawk. You tried your best to discreetly reach up and grab his hand, tugging at it so he would sit but he ignored it.

"And you Uncle," Your brother was back to staring at your husband, cup pointed in his direction this time. "You have been married to my sweet little sister," You softly groaned. "You're older by an hour!" You interrupted with a whine and Jace stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

This earned a few chuckles from your family and weak grandfather. The Greens, except Helena who grinned, didn't budge.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Jace rolled his eyes playfully and you huffed, pout still on your lips. "You have been married to my twin, the person I shared a womb with and came into this world with, the person I have had the pleasure of annoying for eighteen years straight – for over a year now. I see how happy you have made her and for that, I sincerely thank you" Jace's eyes left Aemond's stoic frame before turning to you, a genuine smile on his lips this time.

Your pout was replaced with a smile of your own, heart fluttering at your brother's words. Aemond remained silent, gaze still calculating before he tilted his head in acknowledgment toward Jacaerys.

"To you and your family's good health, dear uncles" Jace finished before taking a swing from his cup. He delivered a final punch to Aegon's shoulder before sitting back down.

You could practically see the annoyance rolling off of your eldest uncle as he accepted your brother's words, "To you as well"

Aemond finally took his seat and you turned to give him a pointed look, which he tried his best to ignore, suddenly interested in the cutlery laid in front of him.

"I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena!" Helaena announced, abruptly standing up with a cup in her hand as well. All eyes were drawn to her, waiting to see where this was going. "They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you..." You frowned at her words, saddened by her fate. "Except sometimes when he's drunk" She innocently added, earning a cackle from your stepfather from the other end of the table.

Aegon looked like he wanted to bury himself alive and this caused you to stifle a laugh of your own. Helaena finally sat down with a dopey smile and you cautiously reached out to hold her hand, knowing she was wary of human touch. She accepted it much to your relief.

"That was great, Hel" You praised and she beamed in response. You heard Aemond shift next to you but you ignored him, opting to keep focusing on your sister-in-law who began taking sips from her cup.

"Let us have some music!" Viserys weakly announced and soon the room was filled with a soft tune.

You hadn't even realized Jacaerys was heading your way until you felt his presence next to you. You looked up at him and noticed his outstretched hand which was meant for Helaena. He gave you an apologetic smile but you shrugged, encouraging Helaena to accept. She rarely had fun and you wanted her to experience it, even if it was just for a few minutes.

She was surprised but nonetheless accepted, giving you one last smile before standing and following your brother to the dance floor.

Aegon stared at the two before turning to look at Aemond who was already looking back at him, the same look he had earlier on his face. You noticed this and scoffed, now annoyed with your husband’s behavior.

You understood Aemond’s feelings. They were valid and you never made him feel like he was being dramatic about it. You loved your brothers and would die for them, but you knew their actions all those years ago had terrible consequences – consequences that Aemond had to live with for the rest of his life. He was the one who had to wake up and see it on his face every time he looked at himself in the mirror.

But in that moment you just wanted Aemond to forgive, at least for the evening – for you.

You turned to look at your brother and aunt as they jumped around, falling back into their childish antics as they danced to the music. The sight warmed your heart and a part of you itched to join them. Your grandfather had been escorted back to his room during their dance, the pain and exhaustion finally catching up to him.

You were so focused that you hadn’t seen the roasted pig being sat in front of your husband nor had you seen the smirk your little brother Lucerys had thrown his way, finally snapping the little restrain Aemond had.

You jumped as he slammed his fists on the table and once again the conversations around the table ceased. The entire room stilled as they watched Aemond with wary eyes. You were looking at him with concern, not quite understanding what set him off.

“Final tribute,” He announced, cup in the air. His eyes were bored into Lucerys who was staring back blankly. “To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey” He eyed the first two, the third not being present. He hadn’t addressed you but you began to grow uncomfortable in your seat. “Each of them handsome, wise…” Aemond trailed off as he tried to fight off the smirk threatening to grow on his lips. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what was coming next.

“Strong”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Your eyes snapped open as goosebumps broke out on your arms. Your heart rate had picked up as anger and irritation clouded your senses.

“Aemond,” Alicent warned.

You were clutching the material of your dress with a tight grip, willing yourself to calm down. Your husband ignored his mother’s warning and continued.

“Come! Let us drain our cups to these three…” He was savoring the words on his tongue. Enjoying the looks of anger that both of your brothers were throwing at him. He had been so caught up in his chase of revenge that he didn’t notice the state he was in. “Strong boys”

It was your turn to abruptly stand, cheeks on fire. The sound of your chair tilting backward and hitting the floor filled the room and all eyes landed on you. You were shaking, frustrated tears clouded your vision and a scowl decorated your lips. Aemond was taken aback, not quite seeing you like this. You never got angry.

You were looking at him with an expression that filled him with nothing but dread.

“I dare you to say that again” Jacaerys called out, gaining Aemond’s attention again. He hesitated for a second, debating whether he should stop for your sake but he was far too deep now.

"Why? 'Twas only a compliment” He feigned confusion as he stepped away from his seat. “Do you not think yourself Strong?” Aemond asked as Jacaerys stalked toward him, fists clenched at his sides. Lucerys slammed his palms on the table and stood up, running to his older brother’s defense.

The sound of fist meeting skin filled your ears and you watched as Aemond’s head snapped to the side at the impact of your brother’s punch. You then caught sight of Aegon grabbing Lucerys and slamming his head on the table.

Red filled your vision at the sight of Aegon manhandling your baby brother and before you could even register what you were doing, you had a fistful of his silver hair between your fingers, pulling back with all the strength you had. Aegon’s shouts of pain filled your ears but you didn’t let up until he had released Lucerys and you kept pulling backward.

You didn’t care if it was unlady like or disrespectful. Your protective instincts had kicked in the moment he laid hands on your Lucerys.

The adults were up on their feet, shouting at you all to stop. Guards even intervened, holding your twin back as he made a move to reach Aemond again.

You hadn’t even realized you were screaming until both of your sisters had pried you off of your uncle. You were red to the face, thrashing around your sisters’ arms as you attempted to reach Aegon again, who was now cursing and rubbing at the sore spots on his scalp.

You stopped fighting against the hands holding you back as the adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream began to go down. You were breathing heavily, eyes still wild with anger. You heard your mother order your siblings to return to their chambers but you were now staring at Aemond who was staring right back.

A few beats of silence passed as everyone watched the interaction between you two, trying to figure out if they needed to step in, but in the end, you only frowned before storming out of the room.

You hadn't stepped foot in your shared chambers that night.

You were angry at Aemond and his childish behavior and refused to sleep in the same bed until you cooled off. You didn’t want to say something you would regret in the heat of the moment.

So, you had gotten Laenor from the nursery and made your way to the other side of the castle where your family was currently residing. You found refuge with Baela and Rhaena, who welcomed you with open arms. Rhaena had taken the baby, claiming she hadn’t had her aunt-nephew-bonding moment yet, and you let her with a tired sigh.

Baela gave you a sympathetic look and embraced you before pulling you toward her bed. You noticed the half-full trunks a few feet from their beds and knew it meant they would be leaving tomorrow. You were sad, blaming tonight’s events for their rushed departure. You knew your mother would want to leave as soon as possible and you couldn’t blame her.

At that moment you wanted to go with them, escape the bleak walls of the castle, and return to Dragonstone. But you knew you couldn’t.

Instead, you watched as Rhaena ordered a servant to bring a crib to the room and you accepted the nightgown Baela was presenting to you.

Aemond knew he had messed up.

The look you had given him told him everything. You had never looked at him that way before and it pained him to know that he was the reason for it.

You had stormed out without a single word.

Just a frown on your soft plump lips.

He had stood there after you left, finally realizing what he had done when he caught his uncle, your stepfather, looking at him like he was his next prey.

He quickly averted his gaze and walked out as well, already planning his apology inside his head.

When he reached your shared chambers, he realized none of the guards were on watch which confused him. He quickly braced himself for what was to come but as he stepped in, he was met with silence.

Everything was exactly the same way you both left it before heading to dinner earlier.

Next, he walked toward the nursery, hoping to find you there with your son. But when he arrived he only found the nannies with his niece and nephew.

They had stood and bowed when they spotted him. “Princess [Y/N] came not long ago and took Prince Laenor with her” The oldest of the two nannies informed him nervously, eyes trained on his shoes.

He nodded and left without a word, making his way back to your shared chambers.

He knew right then and there that you were angry at him.

The only reason why he didn’t assume the worst and tore the castle upside down was because he knew you. He knew you wouldn't leave him. Sure, you were angry now but you would forgive him because you loved him and he loved you. He knew you were with your siblings right now, attempting to cool off and get your mind off of things.

That night, Aemond didn’t sleep.

The bed felt empty despite him lying on it, the sheets icy cold. Not even the roaring fire going on at the fireplace was enough to bring him warmth. He had gotten used to sleeping with you, the body heat you radiated was comforting to him. It was too quiet as well. The small breaths you took as you peacefully slept and Laenor's snuffles were what usually lulled him to sleep.

He lay there for hours, staring up at the ceiling as the night’s events replayed in his mind. It felt like an eternity before the sun began making its way back up in the sky and he found the strength to get up.

He needed to find you.

That morning, before the sun even fully rose, you had bid your family goodbye with tears. Your mother had cried as well, holding you tight and kissing your temple, promising she would visit as soon as your sister was born. Your brothers pulled you into a hug themselves, apologizing for last night but you waved it off, telling them that they had done nothing wrong.

Your stepfather, who was holding a swaddled Laenor, leaned down to press a kiss on the top of your head before handing you your baby back. Baela and Laena had promised to write as soon as they arrived. You bid your younger brothers goodbye with kisses to their cheeks and Joffrey had tried pushing you away claiming he was a big boy now. You had laughed and ruffled his hair, earning points from him.

You watched as they piled into the awaiting carriage, waving goodbye one last time until it set off and disappeared into the distance.

You sighed as the silence settled, the guards on watch standing quietly a few feet from you.

You had to face Aemond now, no longer having a safe place to escape to. Laenor wiggled and cooed in your arms and you looked down at him with a small smile.

“Let’s go find your father, byka zaldrīzes” (little dragon)

You found him just as he was making his way out of your shared chambers without Laenor. You had dropped him off at the nursery with your trusted nanny, not wanting him around on whatever was going to transpire between you and your husband. Aemond’s hair was messy and unkempt, the dark bags under his eyes told you he hadn’t slept.

He froze once he saw you, eye widening since he hadn’t expected to find you that fast. You ignored him as you passed him, walking into the room without a word. He wordlessly followed after you like a puppy trailing after his owner.

Your back was facing him as he entered and you busied yourself with finally removing the jewelry you hadn’t bothered taking off last night.

A tense silence permeated the room as you both waited for the other to speak first. You refused to break it, your stubbornness kicking in.

“I’m sorry,” You almost didn’t hear it since he had whispered it but you did.

He sounded like a wounded child, a contrast to the bold and confident man you grew to love.

He waited after he said it, watching you as you continued to remove your jewelry quietly. He took a cautious step forward but immediately stopped when he saw you freeze.

His heart ached at the sight.

“I’m sorry issa jorrāelagon, I shouldn’t have instigated a fight with your brothers. B-but I was just so angry” He began to explain, tone filled with desperation. Begging you to look at him.

Aemond Targaryen never begged but for you, he would carve his heart from his chest if you asked.

“You didn’t see the way Lucerys smirked when the pig was placed in front of me, mocking me” He explained, a dark look cast over his expression as he thought back to the way your younger brother had smirked at him.

You took a breath and finally turned to look at him, eyes glossed over.

“You called me a bastard, Aemond,” You sounded defeated.

He hadn’t said the word exactly but he had hinted at it by calling your brothers Strong. Aemond’s expression fell at your words and he finally walked toward you, grabbing your hands in his.

“N-no” He stuttered out, head shaking frantically.

“Yes,” You responded and he gripped your hands tighter.

“No!” He practically shouted, startling you at the sudden volume. His gaze softened as he caught it and he took a deep breath, willing to calm his erratic heart down. “My speech wasn’t meant for you” Aemond explained, eye searching yours for understanding.

You blinked the tears away and ripped your hands from his. “No, but you insinuated it!” You moved away as he attempted to reach you again. “I’m Jacaerys’ twin sister for God’s sake! Look at me!” You gripped a fistful of your long brown locks and held it up, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as the dam broke.

Aemond felt helpless as he watched you try to hold back your cries. This had been eating at you all night after dinner and his heart broke at the realization he was the reason for it.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized, voice thick with emotion. He felt like crying himself as he made his way to you and wrapped his arms around you. You tried to push him away but he only held on tighter, still whispering apologies into your hair as you finally let your cries out.

After a few more attempts to push him again and his grip not relenting, you gave up and into his hold. You both remained like that for what seemed hours, you crying and Aemond apologizing.

You forgave him in the end, the love you had for him was too great.

You didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. You noticed the subtle shift inside the castle’s mood but didn’t dwell much on it – used to it by now. You had stirred awake to a quick kiss being pressed on your cheek and opened your bleary eyes to see Aemond walking out of the room.

Your trusted maid, Ella, had entered a few minutes after with a warm smile, asking if you wanted to break fast in your room. You nodded and stood up, making your way to the crib where a still-sleeping Laenor lay.

You let him be, knowing he needed his rest. Ella came back soon and served you your breakfast which you ate slowly before asking her to bring a bath.

An hour later and still no sign of Aemond, you assumed he had gone to train. You finished clipping the last earring into your ear and made a move to open your door, hoping to ask one of the guards to call one of the nannies.

But the door didn't budge. You pulled harder in confusion before you realized it had been locked from the outside. Panic settled into your stomach and you began to pound on the door, shouting for anyone who could hear you. No one came though, not even Ella.

Laenor had begun to cry now, startled by the ruckus you had just caused. You felt bad but rushed toward the window, pulling it open and looking down in hopes of spotting anyone and calling for help.

You saw the crowd of Lords and their wives being rushed through the halls and even more panic filled you.

You picked a still crying Laenor up and sat on the edge of your bed, rocking him back and forth to try and calm him. Your mind began to race as you tried to figure out what was possibly happening. You thought of your ill grandfather and your heart dropped.

Something was happening and it wasn’t good.

You didn’t see Aemond that day. In fact, you hadn’t seen anyone at all.

You had heard Ella’s voice from the other side of the door twice, arguing with the morning and night guards guarding your chambers that she was your trusted maid and needed to serve you.

They all ignored and sent her away both times, only opening the door to settle the tray full of your lunch and dinner on the ground.

You didn’t bother fighting your way out. You had Laenor to think about, who you had rocked back to sleep after you breastfed him.

You paced around the room for hours and looked out the window various times to try and catch a glimpse of whatever was going on, but nothing told you of the specifics occurring.

You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until Aemond woke you up the next day, a grave expression on his face.

You practically jumped out of your skin as he touched your cheek, slumber no longer in you.

“What’s going on?” You cut straight to the point, not in the mood for lies. Aemond sighed and pulled the bottom of his lips between his teeth. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Aemond” You practically hissed, catching him off-guard.

You were tired. You had been locked inside of that room for an entire day. Being treated like a prisoner and not like the princess you were.

“My father is dead,” He finally revealed and your breath hitched. You had assumed so but hearing the words out loud just made it more real. “He wished for Aegon to ascend him” He added and you froze.

No.

“No,” You blurted out, eyes wide.

“No!” You denied, pushing him away when he tried to reach you. “My Mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen, is the true heir of the iron throne. My grandfather willed it so!” You shouted, momentarily forgetting Laenor was still sleeping a few feet away.

Thankfully he didn’t wake.

Aemond scoffed at your words. “It was my father’s last wish before he died, my mother said so”

You laughed, dry and humorless. “She’s a liar! Don’t you see that?” You wanted to rip your hair out and scream at him until he woke up from whatever spell his mother had him under. You knew Alicent didn’t like your mother but you never expected her to go this far. No doubt, Otto was behind this as well.

Your words didn’t sit right with Aemond whose expression had turned dark. “Don’t you dare call my mother a liar! My father simply realized on his deathbed that Aegon was more fit to rule than that whore of my half-sister!”

You recoiled at his words, feeling like he had just slapped you.

“Get out!” You screamed, not caring if you woke the entire castle. Aemond finally realized what he had said and froze. You knew he was going to apologize but you didn’t want to hear it. “Get out, Aemond! I don’t want to see your face!”

Laenor had stirred awake this time, sniffing and small lips trembling as he tried to hold his cries back.

Realizing there was no coming back from this, Aemond did as you asked. He stood by the door before he left, his eye boring into your angry ones.

“Aegon is being crowned later on today. My mother and grandfather insisted you would be there to show unity,” You scoffed at this, cursing at him. He ignored it as he continued. “I’ll tell them you aren’t feeling well. But heed my advice, Wife, you will be made to choose where your loyalties lie. I hope you’re smart enough to choose the right side”

It was a warning.

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

You screamed in frustration, throwing the nearest thing near you — a pillow — toward the door.

You needed to escape.

Salvation came an hour later in the form of your grandmother, Rhaenys, who you had no idea was still in the castle.

She had rushed into your room decked in a cloak, followed by Ser Erryk, face with terribly concealed panic.

“We have to go child,” She urged. You were holding Laenor, who was now calm and babbling up at you. You immediately reached her side and handed her your son. She gave you a confused look which you returned with a weak smile.

“Take him, grandma,” You assured, lip trembling. “I can’t go just yet. I know you will keep him safe until he reaches my mother” You were trying to hold back your tears, eyes never leaving your sweet boy.

Rhaenys shook her head, not quite understanding why you couldn’t go with her. “No, I cannot leave you. Rhaenyra will never forgive me”

You took a deep breath and wiped your wet eyes before cooling your expression. “Tell mother I will reunite with her soon. I still have something I must do”

Rhaenys wanted to argue but Ser Erryk interrupted with a regretful look, informing them that they needed to leave. You nodded to your grandmother, letting her know that it was okay. Finally, she relented and leaned in to press a kiss on your forehead.

She wasn’t the most affectionate person in your youth, you knew she had a hard time accepting you and your brothers as hers unlike her son. But you also knew she cared for you in her own way.

You watched as she finally slipped away, your baby safely tucked in her arms under her cloak.

“I’ll see you soon,” You faintly whispered as the door to your chambers finally closed.

The next few days were a blur. You had heard the whispers from the servants who were allowed to tend to you that Princess Rhaenys and her dragon, the Red Queen, had crashed Aegon’s ceremony toward the end. You had smiled, knowing Laenor was finally safe and out of reach from Aemond’s psychotic family.

No one had asked you where the babe went, the servants that tended to you assumed he was in the nursery and the nannies in the nursery assumed he was with you.

You knew you should’ve left with your grandmother when you had the chance, but you wanted to see Aemond one last time. Ask him to reconsider. A part of you knew you were being foolish. Your husband was loyal to his family, especially his mother. But the other part of you held hope that he would finally wake up and choose you.

Aemond didn’t show up after your last encounter so you had begun to plan your escape. You remembered the stories your mother told you, of the secret passageways hidden inside the royal rooms. You hoped your chambers had them.

Before you could even begin to check, Ella had rushed in, cheeks red and stained with tears. You didn’t know how she got through the guards, she hadn’t been allowed to serve you in what you think was fear from the Greens.

She was your most trusted maid, appointed to you by your mother. She was telling you something in a panic but you couldn’t understand her, the words all jumbled together.

“Ella! Breathe” You grabbed her by the shoulders and watched as she stopped and hiccuped. She took a breath before bursting into more tears.

“Prince Lucerys has been killed,”

Your heart stopped.

“Prince Aemond was the one who killed him”

Your whole world crumbled.

You had never cried as much as you were doing right now.

You were on the ground, your body too weak to stand. Your wails and screams of sorrow filled the entire floor even with the door closed. Ella had been standing a few feet away from you, trying to keep her own cries down.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t think.

Lucerys. Lucerys. Lucerys.

Oh, my sweet baby brother Luke.

Your heart physically hurt and you began pounding on your chest, hoping the feeling would go away. Ella was calling your name, telling you to stop but you couldn’t hear her as your cries got louder and louder.

Aemond had killed Lucerys.

Your husband had murdered your brother.

Aemond was now a kinslayer.

A part of you died that night. You loved your brothers. You didn’t always agree with the things they did but they were still your brothers. Your blood.

You needed to leave.

You needed to get out.

Out. Out. Out.

You abruptly stopped your cries, standing wobbly to your feet. Ella jumped in surprise at your sudden change in mood. She watched as you began to frantically pull curtains away, pushing at walls and bookcases. She called your name but you ignored her until you finally found what you were looking for.

It was on the wall on the farther side of the room, near the closet. A quiet click filled your ears and you pushed hard before the door gave way and a dark cold hallway filled your line of sight. Ella gasped and you finally turned to look at her.

“We have to go,” You choked out before entering it. You were barefoot but you didn’t care. You needed to get away before anyone came to check on you – before Aemond came.

You knew your loud cries alerted someone and soon enough the Queen or Otto would come knocking.

Ella nodded and quickly grabbed a pair of your shoes before following after you.

You weren’t sure where you were heading but you followed the stairs, Ella behind you, before you finally reached the outside of the castle.

There, you stood for a few seconds contemplating what to do next as she tried to coax you to put your shoes on.

Your face was red and swollen. The urge to cry and scream until your voice gave out was still there but you needed to get out of King's Landing first.

“Your dragon!” Your maid suggested and a lightbulb went off in your head.

Nyx.

You both then rushed off in the direction of the dragon pit, trying your best to not bump into the few civilians walking about. The entrance of the pit wasn’t heavily guarded and you mentally thanked the gods before you rushed inside.

The guards that were around immediately spotted you and made a move to stop you but you sidestepped them, Ella jumping in to hold them back. “Go! I’ll hold them off!” She had shouted behind you and your heart clenched at the thought of leaving her. But you knew you couldn’t help her without your dragon so you ran as fast as you could down the slope and into the cave where your boy was in.

You had immediately spotted him when you stepped inside. He was a gorgeous black dragon, hence the name you had given him. He was about Vermax’s size, having hatched at the same time Jace’s dragon did. Nyx had been sleeping but woke up in your presence. Chirps of happiness escaped him as he stood, stalking toward you with his wide yellow eyes on your form. You teared up, having missed him.

You rarely rode him after giving birth to Laenor and considering you had been locked up for the last few days, you hadn’t had the chance to see him.

You reached up to caress his snout and he sniffed you, chest rumbling with a growl once he smelled the sadness on you. He was becoming angry and protective over his rider and you quickly shushed him.

“We have to go, boy, there’s no time” You spoke to him in High Valyrian, reaching to remove the chains from him. He understood and lowered himself so you could climb on the saddle on his back.

Soon he was walking out of the cave, your fingers gripping the handles tightly.

The sight that met you when you finally emerged drained all the blood from your face.

Ella was sprawled on the ground unconscious. You wanted nothing more than to climb down and pull her up but your saddle only sat one person. The guards were staring right at you, weapons in the air though they were scared as Nyx growled at them in warning.

You could hear Otto’s and Alicent’s distant shouts coming from nearby, barking out orders you couldn’t quite make out.

And then you heard a third.

Aemond.

Your heart clenched at the sound of his voice and the tears resurfaced once again.

He killed Lucerys.

With one last look to your maid, you prayed she wasn’t dead and would get out of this alive.

You signaled for Nyx to begin moving and he roared at the guards in front of you. They all cowered back just as Aemond, followed by Otto and Alicent, had stepped into the pit.

Your red-rimmed eyes met his for a second before you shouted, “Sōvēs Nyx!” (fly nyx)

You shivered as the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. You weren’t properly dressed for a ride, still in your nightgown.

Nyx was flying in the direction of Dragonstone and soon enough you would be home. You would be reunited with your baby and while you were being hugged by your mother, Lucerys would jump out and yell surprise! You would find out this was all one big cruel joke that everyone but you were in.

But you knew that was just your denial talking.

Suddenly, you heard a roar and you straightened up, eyes scanning your surroundings. Nyx was alert, his beady yellow eyes turned to slits.

You knew who it was before you saw him.

“[Y/N]!” Aemond shouted behind you. Vhagar’s huge frame and shark teeth sent a shiver of fear down your spine. You commanded Nyx to fly faster and soon you were both in a chase. He kept shouting your name, pleading for you to stop but you didn’t listen.

You didn’t want to listen to him. He couldn’t apologize his way out of this one. He had killed your little brother, murdered him in cold blood.

You didn’t know how he did it and you didn’t want to know.

You feared if you knew you would turn around and end his life yourself.

Vhagar was gaining speed and soon enough she was almost next to you and your dragon.

“[Y/N]! Please! Listen to me!” Aemond shouted, hair flying back. You clenched your teeth as anger, grief, and sadness surged through you. “ÑUHO GLAESO HŪRUS, PLEASE LOOK AT ME!” (moon of my life)

Your head snapped in his direction, eyes blazing. “Don’t call me that! You lost the privilege the moment you murdered my brother!” You shouted at him. Nyx let out another roar as he felt the pain you were currently in through the bond.

“It was an accident!” He defended himself and your anger flared. You wanted to jump off Nyx and strangle him. Hit him until blood flooded his mouth and he wasn’t able to speak.

An accident?

He had killed your brother and was acting like he had simply tripped him.

You knew he hated them but you didn’t think it would reach the point of actual murder.

“I hate you! I wish I had never married you at all!” You shouted at him, tears cascading down your face.

I wish you were dead, you thought to yourself and immediately regretted it.

You didn’t actually mean it but at that moment you didn’t care. You wanted him to hurt the same way you were at that moment.

You didn’t realize Nyx had turned, jaws open and ready to attack until it was too late. In the heat of the moment, overwhelmed with your anger and thirst for revenge, your loyal dragon had decided to enact it for you.

Vhagar screeched at Nyx’s approach and you pulled at the reins, hoping to force your dragon away from the old and much bigger dragon. “NO!” You shouted, fear and panic in your voice.

Aemond was shouting at Vhagar, commanding her to stand down, but the war dragon wasn’t listening. His heart was beating out of his chest, a wave of deja vu hitting him as he watched as Vhagar’s teeth clamped on the side of Nyx’s neck.

“Vhagar, stand down!” Aemond screamed again and this time the old dragon listened. She let go but the damage was done. Nyx was losing too much blood, the smell of iron filled your nose, and blood sprayed from the wound, drenching you in the process.

Nyx was getting weaker as more and more blood poured from the open wound and you knew he wasn’t going to make it.

Aemond watched in horror as your dragon began to fall, with you still on the saddle. You were staring up at him, your own eyes wide.

You knew this was it.

This was the end.

This was how you would die.

You were falling, fast, and there was nothing you could do.

Even if you jumped off now, you would still be falling into the Stranger’s arms. The impact from the sea would carry you to it.

You thought of your mother. Your poor mother who already lost a son, who would now lose a daughter.

You thought of Jacaerys, who on top of losing a brother, would lose his other half.

You thought of Laenor, who would grow up without a mother, only stories of you to comfort him.

You thought of your other siblings, who would have to weep and mourn another of their kin.

“[Y/N]!” Aemond screamed, commanding Vhagar to swoop down and follow. He wanted to reach you, to save you. The older dragon let out a deep roar as she sped up and Aemond reached his hand out for you to grasp.

“Hold my hand!” He shouted, hoping you would untie your restraints and come back to safety with him.

But it was too late.

I love you, you mouthed up at him and his face contorted. A choked sound escaped his lips, a mixture of a shout and a sob, as he watched the water getting closer and closer.

The smell of sea salt invaded your senses and you knew it was coming.

You closed your eyes and welcomed death with open arms.

I’m coming Lucerys.

tags、@heavenly1927 @marihoneywk @foggypeacestarlight

#aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen imagine #house of the dragon imagine #prince aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #cvspians

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months

Note

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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m00nsbaby · 9 months

Text

Do you want me (dead)?

Jake Lockley x F! Reader.

Tags & warnings. College AU, no mentions of Marc or Steven, explicit, +18, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating, no use of y/n.

Word count. 3.5k

Summary. He was childish. Unbearable.

It was as if he had a magnet to you, always bothering you, finding a way to ruin your day in some manner.

You were going to kill Jake Lockley at any moment.

You decided not to blame anyone else but yourself for your bad mood. It had been a conscious choice to only get two hours of sleep due to your sudden desire for a movie marathon by yourself.

You didn't have many friends; you exchanged words with a couple of people, if you were lucky. On any given day, you would arrive, attend class, and then spend the rest of your time alone somewhere else. So, on a Wednesday morning, you could afford to rest your arms on your desk and hide your face there, dozing off until the class started.

Or at least, that was the plan.

"Cariño." If you were a cat, that single word would have been enough to make your fur stand on end. You didn't even bother lifting your head to see who was by your side.

He cleared his throat louder. "Cariño."

When you raised your hand to show him your middle finger, he smiled satisfactorily. Jake was content with getting even a gram of your attention. There was a personal pleasure in getting under your skin, as if his day got 200 times better.

"Did you sleep well?" He was going to keep pushing until he got more from you. "I slept amazingly, actually. Last night, I found a video where..."

"I'm not interested, Lockley." You growled, finally raising your head.

"There she is." You wanted to wipe that cocky smile off his face with a punch. You could only hope that one day he would annoy the wrong person, and someone else would take care of the dirty work. "As beautiful as always."

"I hate you."

"Ouch, my heart." He placed a hand over his chest, still smiling.

"Go to..."

"Good morning, everyone!" You nibbled on your lower lip to avoid screaming over the professor about how much you wished a truck would run over Jake Lockley.

At least with this, you were free of him for the next three hours.

It wasn't long before a poorly folded note landed on your desk.

Hey :)

With your index finger, you pushed the note, letting it fall to the floor.

Heyyyyy!!!

The next one also landed on the floor.

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You caught a glimpse of what looked like a poorly drawn cat. Next paper to the floor.

You didn't even bother opening the next one.

"Professor?" Hearing him speak again made you lift your gaze, wondering what nonsense he would come up with this time. "We have a trash bin in the classroom for a reason, right?" As he said this, he pointed at you and then at the papers on the floor.

"No, no, no! I didn't..."

"You two again?" The professor pressed the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he sighed heavily. His gaze landed on you almost immediately. "Get out of my class."

"But..."

"Out." After a few seconds of silence, you realized he was serious, and you had no choice but to make as much noise as possible with your belongings while standing up.

"Go to hell, Lockley." You said loudly, eliciting a collective 'uhhh' from the group. If you were already in trouble, it was better to have a good reason.

"You're staying for..."

"Detention, yes, yes." You growled as you slammed the classroom door.

You could still feel Jake's gaze on you, along with his triumphant smile. You didn't cross paths with him for the rest of the day.

It seemed that the next day fate was on your side because there were no signs of life from him.

Classes passed as boring as ever, in fact, even more so now that you had no one to argue or talk with.

It was quieter without him around. Well, the good side was that you were finally free to go home.

You had no choice but to cross the edge of the football field to leave school. Both hands were in your pockets, and you had your earphones on. You were almost thanking God for getting through another day without Jake Lockley.

Almost.

At the last row of stands, there was someone. It wasn't uncommon, and you would have done your best to avoid them, except this time you recognized who it was even with his face hidden in his hands.

You rolled your eyes when you realized you couldn't even have a single day of peace.

Fortunately, not even the sound of footsteps caught his attention. In fact, it left you more intrigued how loudly he was breathing. Perhaps today was the day he finally crossed paths with the wrong person and got put in place.

You shrugged to yourself and kept walking, but your chest decided it didn't agree with you.

What if something had happened to him? Was he crying?

"Keep walking, keep walking, keep walking," you thought to yourself when your legs wouldn't move any further.

Ugh.

You retraced your steps.

"Are you okay?" It came out in a stronger tone than you would have liked.

When he lifted his head from his hands, your stomach churned. You always thought you'd enjoy the day someone finally gave Jake Lockley what he deserved, but this felt horrible.

He nodded silently when he realized it was you.

There was a cut along the bridge of his nose and another on his eyebrow. Blood was flowing from one of his nostrils and reached his lips, all on top of a black eye.

His response should have been enough for you to continue your way, but...

"You don't look good."

He laughed, not genuinely, but one of those laughs you give automatically when someone tries to cheer you up in the worst moments, even though you weren't joking.

"You should've seen the other guy." You didn't smile.

He was a jerk, even in this situation.

You hesitated a few seconds before making your decision. You took a seat next to him on the stands, close enough for your leg to brush against his.

You were silent for what felt like an eternity. Jake didn't even bother to look at you, but at least he wasn't hiding in his hands anymore; he was watching the field as if the grass were the most interesting thing on planet Earth.

"Can I see?" you whispered after a while.

"Huh?"

"Your face. Can I see?" He finally turned to you in silence, and you did the same, daring to look at him. If you noticed any hint of him about to give you that stupid smug grin he always had, you'd make him regret it even more.

But no. Those huge brown eyes were fixed on you as if he were a lost puppy.

You used your right hand to gently hold his chin, lifting his head slightly to search for any other injuries. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be more than what you noticed at first glance.

You pulled the sleeve of your sweater enough to cover part of your hand, which was such a light shade of pink it could pass for white, though you didn't care as you used the fabric to wipe away the blood running from his nose.

If only you had been aware of how Jake's heart was racing.

You licked the fabric slightly to dampen it when you noticed the blood had started to dry.

"Is this why you didn't go to class?" You tried to fill the silence that was starting to make you nervous.

He nodded without saying anything more. You never thought you'd wish to hear his annoying voice.

"Was it a fight?" Another nod. Well, knowing there was no one else bothering him was enough to give you some relief. You kept cleaning. Under his nose and upper lip. The wounds looked less dramatic without so much blood.

"Done."

He licked his lips, cleaning off any remaining blood. You adjusted your backpack on your shoulder when you finally stood up.

"It's late, Jake. Go home." you whispered. You didn't care if it seemed like you were talking to yourself. You didn't wait for a response before walking away, or at least taking two steps before his voice stopped you.

"Hey." You spun on your own feet to look at him. "Thanks, cariño."

You smiled; you couldn't have stopped it even if you wanted to.

"See you tomorrow." It was the last thing you said before continuing to walk.

And yes, you did see him the next day, against your will.

The following days were torturous for both him and you, as Jake set out to annoy you in new ways.

He asked you at least 4 times if you would spend some time with him after school, like a date or in any situation. He simply took your concern for him as a way of saying, "Maybe I don't hate you as much as you think."

You were on the verge of exploding.

You were tangling the cable of your laptop when you noticed a silhouette in front of you. You didn't have to look up to know who it was.

It was just the two of you in the classroom now that everyone had left.

"What do you want, Lockley?" You didn't look up as you packed your charger into your backpack.

"I want to know if we can hang out after school," his tone was firm, more than usual.

"I already told you, Jake, in how many languages do you want me to say it? Fortunately, it's the same in Spanish or I doubt you'd understand," you were not in the mood, not today, not now, and especially not after having rejected his invitations several times before.

"I just want to buy you an ice cream, cariño. Or do you prefer a smoothie? A frappe?" The poor guy was desperate.

"I don't want anything." You finally turned to face him with a frown, adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.

"¿Por qué tienes que portarte como una idiota conmigo?"

"I understood it, you enormous jerk!" Your voice rose almost immediately as you pushed his chest to keep him away. "We're not friends, Jake, we're nothing. I can't stand you, and you can't stand me either. What happened the other day was just some human empathy."

Your index finger kept hitting his chest again and again as you spoke, your frown remained deep.

In Jake's eyes, you looked nothing more than an annoyed kitten, hissing when someone gets too close.

"So leave me alone, seriously, because I swear if you keep this up, I'm going to..." You couldn't continue speaking because his lips were on yours, devouring them like a starving man.

Your eyes opened in surprise just seconds before you succumbed to his delicious taste of mint and cigarettes. Your hands slowly traveled up his chest until they reached his shoulders, which you held onto when your legs weakened.

It wasn't fair that he was such a good kisser.

He moved forward slowly, guiding you until your body was pressed against one of the walls of the classroom. His hands were hooked onto your waist as if you were going to run away at any moment.

You had no intention of doing that; your mind was genuinely somewhere else. However, after eliciting a delicious moan from the guy in front of you by biting his lower lip, your thoughts were momentarily disrupted.

"Please, hermosa." he whispered with a husky voice as his kisses trailed down your chin. "Please, just one date."

You couldn't hate him more. How could he do this to you?

Your eyes were closed as you tilted your head to the side, guiding Jake to your neck. You nodded without saying anything.

A moan escaped your lips when you felt him bite your skin, sucking with enough force to leave a mark.

"Fuck, Lockley," you whispered with heavy breaths as he pulled away from your neck. That stupid cocky smile. Ugh.

"Then I'll see you this afternoon." You hated him. Really, you hated him, just as much as you hated his ridiculous and soft lips now coated with your strawberry-flavored lip gloss.

"Fine." You wished your mouth had expressed what you felt, but your body was acting faster than you."

He picked you up in his car, and you would have preferred to jump out of it while it was still moving than admit that there was something about being in Jake Lockley's car that made you feel... special, especially after hearing him call it 'baby' more than once.

The car smelled like leather, cigarettes, and his cologne.

"You look beautiful." You rolled your eyes with a smile as he got in on the opposite side of the car.

"Thanks, Jake." If you were going to spend so many hours together, the least you could do was try to make it tolerable for both of you. However, you remained on guard for any stupid remarks that might come out of his mouth.

"So, ice cream?"

"I love the vanilla ice cream from McDonald's."

"McDonald's it is, then."

Was it because it was him, or were you just easily impressed to feel delighted with an invitation for a one-dollar ice cream?

"Are you going to tell me why you got beaten up the other day?"

"I didn't get beaten up." He rolled his eyes as he placed a hand on your seat to look back, reversing the car.

Oh, that was...

Oh.

"Well." You imitated his disgusted gesture. "Why did they fight you then?"

"It was over something stupid. Can we talk about something else?"

"And what could you and I talk about?"

"About school?"

"Boring." When he stopped at the drive-thru, you remained silent, smiling.

"Two vanilla ice creams, and... do you want something else?" Was this what it felt like to be the passenger princess?

"Fries."

"And some fries."

"Have you ever eaten fries with ice cream?" You asked as he drove forward to receive his ridiculously small order.

"Together? No." He frowned as he looked in his wallet for the exact 3 dollars to pay the girl at the window. "That's disgusting."

Receiving your ice cream made you confirm that this was what it felt like to be a passenger princess.

"Or maybe you just have terrible taste." You also received the fries.

You would have never imagined that Jake Lockley's idea of a date was sitting in his car, chatting and eating fast food, but you weren't complaining. He was doing an excellent job of making you feel comfortable.

You didn't even notice when the sun set, and the McDonald's parking lot emptied, leaving just the two of you.

"Jake? They'll worry at home, it’s late."

"Sorry, cariño! I didn't even notice." He quickly started the car, and you laughed because you would have never imagined that a guy like him would care about what your parents might say.

You sighed heavily as you got back into your seat. If only the day lasted longer.

And if only the way home was longer.

He opened the door for you just as he did when you got in, and you smiled in thanks. You turned on your heels to face him after stepping onto the sidewalk; you needed the extra inches to be able to look him in the eyes.

"Thanks for driving me," you whispered as he took a step closer to you.

"You're welcome, cariño."

"And thanks for the ice cream."

"You're welcome, cariño." he repeated, trying not to laugh.

"And the fries." His hands found your waist as he pulled you closer, keeping you on the edge of the curb.

"You're welcome, cariño." He finally laughed before leaning in just enough to leave a chaste kiss on your lips.

"See you tomorrow." Another kiss, short and gentle.

Both of you went to bed with the most ridiculous smiles on your faces.

You were looking around nervously, feeling a pit in your stomach at the mere idea of running into Jake. How should you approach him this time? Did you want to deal with the curious stares from your classmates?

Well, you didn't have to look for an answer because a hand pulling your arm took you out of your reverie. Before you could react, you found yourself locked inside the janitor's closet, and once again, you were about to kill Jake Lockley.

"Jake... What the fuck?" You said with almost disappointment. Just when you thought he couldn't annoy you any more.

There was no response from him. The only thing you got from him was the most desperate kiss you had ever received. His tongue was exploring every inch of you while you tried not to knock over the stack of mops and brooms next to you.

"I missed you," was all he could say between kisses. You wondered if he had always been this intense or if it was his strange fixation on you.

You pulled away for a moment to catch your breath, looking at him. Bright brown eyes, flushed cheeks, and lips now pink from kissing you.

Maybe you didn't hate him as much as you had sworn.

"Can you lock the door?" you whispered, looking at him with your lower lip between your teeth. Maybe it would be fair to give back some of the mistreatment you've put him through lately, while he looks at you with so much admiration.

Maybe he deserved it.

He stretched out a hand to obey you, when the 'click' resounded in the small closet, your hands immediately went to his jeans, you unbuttoned them without looking away.

“¿C-cariño?"

"Shhh, do you want to get caught?" You questioned with a smile that nearly made Jake faint.

You pulled his jeans down enough to free his erection, still covered by his boxers. You gathered saliva in your mouth before running your tongue along it to moisten his underwear, all without taking your eyes off of his.

He exhaled heavily causing a smile in you. You licked over the top of the cloth again a few times before slowly lowering his boxers.

You swallowed when his cock was in front of your face.

"What is it, hermosa?" He questioned with a mocking smile when he noticed the surprise in your expression.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes as you spit into your hand to hold it. You licked its entire length again from base to tip.

You aligned it to your mouth with your hand while your lips were in charge of leaving wet kisses on the head, not caring that your lips were being stained with pre-cum.

"Hermosa." Jake repeated, his voice shaking. You already knew what he wanted but your habit of bothering him was always present in you.

"Yes, Jakey?"

"Please."

"Please, what?" You looked up at him as you traced little circles on his slit.

“Put it in your mouth. Please please please".

“You are adorable when you ask properly.” You gave a small laugh before obeying him. You took a deep breath in through your nose and you pushed it into your mouth in one movement, to the point where you felt it hitting your throat.

“Carajo.” He whispered breathlessly and finally placed a hand in your hair. He held a few strands in his fist and pushed you further against him, to the point where your nose collided with his abdomen.

You'd have to fix your makeup when you got out of there.

And although your eyes began to water, you didn't move away or make any fight to push him, first dead before letting yourself lose. After a few seconds he released you, letting you take a breath and sniff.

"Do you want to kill me?" You whispered laughing as you licked your lips.

"It seems to me that you are the one who wants to kill me, hermosa." His fingers squeezed your chin before pulling you back against his erection.

It didn't take long for you to open your lips for him, taking his entire member into your mouth for the second time.

Your gaze was still fixed on him.

"Are you going to swallow it all, mi amor?" With teary eyes you nodded, your hands resting on his thighs. "Buena chica."

Both hands went to your hair to keep you still. You obeyed and opened your mouth wide for him, even sticking your tongue out from under his cock so he could move freely.

He thrusted into your mouth without an ounce of mercy, you could feel your saliva run down your chin to your neck. When his movements became more frantic you knew he was getting closer.

The heat in his lower abdomen had him covering his mouth with one hand trying not to make any more noise.

One more hard thrust and Jake came. His hot cum ran down your throat as there wasn't enough room in your mouth to keep it there, it shot straight for you to swallow.

"Are you okay?" You questioned with a smirk as you wiped your chin with the back of your hand.

"Better than okay, cariño."

Hey :)

A note appeared on your desk, making you roll your eyes before laughing softly. You uncapped your pink pen to write underneath the horrible handwriting.

Hi! ♡

You filled in the heart before placing the paper on Jake's desk. You even winked at him when he looked surprised to receive a response.

Vanilla ice cream after classes?

And fries too? :)

446 notes · View notes

lizthewriter · 8 months

Note

Hi! I love your fan fictions! I was wondering (First time requesting ever) if you could do a FIC for Mattheo or Theodore based on exile and the readers dealing with self hate,anxiety, autsim, adhd, Depression, and they feel so alone and push him away because the readers scared to accept her feelings and afraid she’ll get left, and no one loves or cares about her?

AUTHOR'S NOTE Oh my God, thank you so much for sending in a request! This is actually the first request I have ever received, so this is a first for us both! By exile, I'm assuming you mean the song exile by Taylor Swift. Here's a little blurb just for you anon! And thank you for the compliment, I'm glad you love my fanfics! Sending love and good vibes your way

Honestly, I tried my best with this. I've gone through depression and self-hate, and I am currently dealing with anxiety and ADHD. I don't know too much about autism, but I really tried my hardest to convey what you've requested. I hope this is satisfactory!

exile / mattheo riddle

PAIRING Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

SUMMARY Everything in your life feels like it's going wrong and there's nothing you can do to change it. What once brought you joy only leaves you numb. What once excited you now only bored you. What you loved only saw you as a friend.

Taking shelter in an empty classroom during a panic attack, Mattheo Riddle finds you a sobbing mess on the stone floors. You find out that he likes you more than you think he does.

TAGS Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, self-hate, depression, anxiety, stress, ADHD, autism, exams, panic attack, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, fluff, happy ending, kissing

"All this time, / we always walked a very thin line, / you didn't even hear me out," - exile, Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver

WORD COUNT 2.0K

WRITTEN 23.08.2023

pt. 2 here, karma

You sat in Transfiguration, leg bouncing nervously as you stared down at the test questions. You have always been a terrible test-taker - all the pressure of having to get good marks in such a limited time period and all this weight on your shoulders with the upcoming NEWT's made you more than nervous. Your brows were furrowed in both concentration and confusion. As you were gnawing on the end of your quill, McGonagall announced that it was time for you to place your quills down and pack your things. You let out a shaky sigh, placing down your quill. How could you not answer a simple question? Everyone else seemed to be finding the material easy, why couldn't you? You sat there, beating yourself up as you quickly packed your things away and left class.

You left Transfiguration by yourself and headed back to your dorm. Not only were you doing poorly in your classes, you also happened to be insanely in love with someone in your year. And, of course, you had to fall in love with the most unavailable person. Not only was he not interested in girls, he would never be interested in someone like you. I mean, why would he? What made you so special? And he has referred to you as a mate on so many occasions that if you had a nickel for every one, you'd surely be drowning in an ocean of them. Oh, and not only that, but you didn't really have friends. Most of the people you knew were dating and had at least one best friend. But you? No, you may know a variety of people but you couldn't call any of them a good friend, even. You didn't understand what you were doing wrong. Why was everyone else living happy, productive lives while you were stuck being miserable, alone, and depressed?

I mean, you lost all interest in everything. You couldn't find the joy in reading or taking walks about the grounds anymore. Your schoolwork was taking a turn for worse and you found yourself and bored and tired of your classes. Your grades were slipping, you had no friends, no partner, no nothing. Everything just felt wrong, wrong, wrong. And all you could do was sit there and blame yourself.

You knew you wouldn't be able to make it to your dorm to find the privacy to cry- you quickly ducked into the nearest room, curled up into the corner, and burst into sobs. It was all just too much and too little at the same time. You just felt like you couldn't deal with all this anymore. If you didn't deserve to be happy, than maybe you didn't deserve to be at all. Your hands bunched up into fists, lightly hitting your head at your temples. You hated your thoughts, the way your brain worked. You hated how you could think about everything all at once. You just wanted it all to stop, all to end.

You didn't hear the sounds of footsteps passing the classroom - Mattheo had only been walking by, skipping out on Potions, when he heard you. When he glanced into the classroom and saw you crying there, he couldn't help himself.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

You froze, sniffling, your chest heaving for air. You hadn't heard him and was caught off guard. Quickly, you wiped your face with the edge of your sleeve, collecting your bag from the ground and hiking it up your shoulder. "Nothing - nothing's wrong."

He ducked his head, his lips set into a thin-line as he observed you. "I'm not stupid. I can see that you're crying."

Great. Now you had offended the only person, perhaps, that even cared to talk to you for more than five minutes. He must hate you right now. Depise you. Think you to be cruel. "I didn't mean to say you were stupid." It was hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over the threshold. You wiped your eyes with the end of your sleeve again. Why should he care about you? He must be pitying you now, surely he would have no other reason to act so concerned. Even if he did, he would one day realize that you were never as good as he thought you.

His gaze softened, the edges of his lips curling up slightly. He approached you, raising his hand to wipe away a tear that had collected in the inner corner of your eye. "'S all right, darling. Don't cry. Just talk with me about it, hm?"

Your chest heaved as you took in a shaky breath. "W-why do you care? I'm sure you have better things to do." You let out a weak laugh, backing away from his touch. "I mean, come on, don't you have Potions right now?"

"Why do I - I care about you. Do you need a reason why?"

"Yes, I do, actually," you responded, cringing at how snarky you sounded.

Mattheo let out a sigh. "I care about you because you're beautiful, inside and out. I care about you because you make me laugh. And you make me feel better when I've had a shit day. I care about you because no one makes my heart flutter like you do." His voice got smaller as he took a step towards you, and gradually raised his hands to cup your cheeks. He drew your gaze to his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes. His expression was rather serious, as though he were trying to affirm his words. "I care about you cause you're the only person who's ever really cared about me."

You trembled beneath the soft caress of his knuckcles, meeting his eyes for a short moment before shoving him away. A brief moment of hurt echoed through his eyes as you shook your head, backing away from him. "No, no you don't. I don't. And even if you did . . . " You found your voice trailing off. You hiked the strap of your bag up your shoulder again, having slipped down your arm. "I should go. I have History of Magic soon and I don't want to be late."

Mattheo glanced at you and then down at the floor, his jaw clenched. "Fine. I won't stand in your way then."

You spent the majority of your time avoiding Mattheo, but you knew there'd be a day when you would run into him and you couldn't do anything about it. Today was that day, almost two weeks after the aforementioned incident.

You were curled up in the Astronomy Tower, late at night, lying on top of a blanket as you glanced up at the stars. It was perhaps the only moment of peace you had found in a while - maybe it was the whistle of wind or the glittering of the stars.

You should've known he'd be up here. He's always sneaking off places late at night, the highest points of the castle. You heard your name being called and turned around to see a surprised Mattheo. He stood but a few feet from yourself. You weren't exactly sure what to do - in your panic, you did nothing.

"Erm - may I sit down?"

You didn't say anything for a moment, drawing your legs into your chest and resting your head upon your knees. You nodded ever so slightly, glancing away from him as he plopped down next to you. His shoulder brushed up against yours and he leaned forward to try and catch your eyes, mimicking your seated position.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the other day. I should've stayed there with you . . ." His voice trailed off. He let out a sigh as he leaned back on both palms, now spraying out his legs across the blanket. He stared put at the stars, his expression neither upset nor particularly happy. "I don't think you really meant it when you said you didn't care about me. I know you do. I just want to know why you're trying to convince yourself that you don't." He paused, hesitating. "Is it because you think I don't feel the same way about you? 'Cause you can erase that thought from your mind. I like you - really, really like you. And I don't know why exactly you keep pushing me away, but I want you to know that I'm here to listen."

He bathed in your silence, not necessarily perturbed by it. He finally decided to test the waters, raising his hand to gently touch yours. He seemed fascinated with you as he ran his fingernail gently across your skin.

You didn't know whether you wanted to tell him or not. You didn't know if you could trust him. If he wouldn't just laugh in your face, call you a fool, and leave you a pitiful mess. But Salazar, did you want to spill your heart out to him. And in the mental state you were in now, coupled with your fatigue, you didn't even care anymore.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't have any friends. I'm not particularly close with my family. And everytime I did start to make a friend or - or something more, they'd just leave." You wrapped your arms tighter around your legs. "I always wondered, what's wrong with me? Do I say the wrong things? Act the wrong way? Am I really so despisable that people actively go out of their way to ignore me?" You scoffed. "Guess I must be some kind of horrible person then."

"That's not true," Mattheo said immediately, surging forward in anger. "You're an amazing person. Whoever has just left you or treated you like that, they're arseholes. I won't do that to you. Never. I don't care how many times I have to say it 'til it gets through that pretty little head of yours, I like you, I care about you, I want to make you happy . . . and if leaving you alone and pretending like I never admitted that to you makes you happy, then that's what I'll do." He waited for your response, painfully hoping for a verbal one. However, you remained silent. Mattheo felt his heart sink. "Right then. Well."

He began to push himself off the floor to get up, but you quickly grabbed his hand. "Wait!" you exclaimed in alarm, finally meeting his eyes. "I - I lied before. I do care about you. Please don't go. Please."

Mattheo sat back down with an easy-going grin, like he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

"You really like me?" You asked, both breathless and doubtful all at once.

"Do you need me to prove it to you?" His grin grew smug.

"Yes, actually."

"All right then." Mattheo raised his hand to rest under your chin, tilting your head slightly to the side so you were facing him directly. Your eyes widened as he drew closer, his eyes glancing between your eyes and your lips. Breath growing shallow, you tensed as you could feel his humid breath on your lips. "I can prove it to you right now, if you let me."

You wasted no time in smashing your lips against his, hands coming up to cup both of his cheeks. Your eyes were shut tight as you relished in the feeling of his buttery smooth lips running against yours. He was a bit more passionate tha you had expected, but he had been waiting for years to do this. And whatever his imagination could try to conjure, it was nothing compared to the real thing.

Mattheo was the one to pull away but he was soon back to give you a quick peck, sming against your lips. "You're amazing - I don't think I'll ever be leaving you after a kiss like that."

You finally grinned, a true grin, gor the first time in a long time, and brought his face back down to yours to kiss under the stars.

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle headcanon #slytherin boys #fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #harry potter #fanfic

340 notes · View notes

anisespice · 11 months

Note

hi uhhhhhhhhhhhh can i request the tokyo revengers characters walking in on the reader changing u dont have to do it if ur not comfortable sorryyyy

no discomfort here, anon! pretty tame request actually lol not sure if you wanted it this…detailed BUT thank you for your patience and for requesting - hope you enjoy <3333

pairing: college!tr x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. mentions of sex, dirty-talk, vulgar language, name-calling (pervert, baby, sweetheart, bitch, etc.), them literally being obsessed with you lol and i think that’s it — feel free to let me know if i missed anything :))))

notes: special thanks to @melanatedkink as always for her help <3333 and figured this format would be a lot more fun than trying to come up with several elaborate scenarios lol hope you guys enjoy!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @spacegirl05

They were waiting in your living room for what felt like HOURS (of which was only a few minutes) for you to get ready, eager to spend the evening with you. A little too eager. Without much thought, they marched straight to your bedroom and came right in. The sight before them wasn’t something they were expecting, but their reactions were for the books.

Delinquent.exe stopped working. His grip around the doorknob became so strong, you’d think he’d rip it right off the wood. Didn’t matter where his eyes landed, you were EXPOSED as the day you were born. And to make matters embarrassingly worse, his pants immediately grew tighter at the mere sight of you. You jump, obviously startled by his sudden presence, and shriek at him in protest. He's still standing there, borderline beatboxing as he fights between apologizing profoundly and gassing you up.

When CHIFUYU opened the door right as you bent over, facing away as you slipped on a fresh pair of underwear, your entire pussy greeting him was definitely not on his agenda for tonight. The noise he let out was between a choke and a squeak as he practically shoved his fist in his mouth, eyes wide as his face flushed vermillion. It didn’t help when his dick began to salute you, hands quickly reaching down to adjust his body’s ‘not-so-subtle’ response to the display. With a yelp, you tugged the skimpy garment all the way up in startlement, peeking over your shoulder as you shielded your bare upper half. You didn’t even need to scold him, Chifuyu beat you to it as he stuttered over himself, stuck between hiding his erection and reaching for the door as he tap-danced around the situation. God, the image was singed into his brain, he swore he could see it every time he blinked.

You couldn't even be mad, his stammering too amusing to even hold a frown anymore. Not to mention, the evident tent in his pants he so poorly tried to conceal; he looked so pitiful, how could you not fuck him out of his misery? But, don't forget to make him squirm for it.

" P-please...please, baby, I can't...I can't take it a-anymor-Oh!"

You took your sweet time sliding all the way down his throbbing length, pussy fluttering around him in pulses that nearly drove him up the wall, back arching as he whimpered distressingly. His knuckles were bone white from how harshly he gripped the sheets, teeth clamped down on his lower lip as he fought the urge to buck upward, not wanting to piss you off—You absolutely would leave him high and dry if he disobeyed your instructions to hold still.

"Tsk. Perverts like you should be grateful I'm even letting you near my pussy. Maybe next time you'll knock before barging in on someone changing."

He pouted at the dig, "...said I was sorry..."

"I know you are, 'Fuyu. But, sorry's not gonna cut it this time. Now be a good boy, and take what I give you."

[ also could be: SHINICHIRO, KAZUTORA, SOUYA ]

Immediately slams the door shut. Tries to play it cool, acting nonchalantly as he softly apologizes from the other side. Contemplates his next move when he goes back to the couch, set on not speaking to you for the rest of the year out of shame. Luckily, you made it known he had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Shit-!” was the only indication you had of the door even opening, just getting done with sticking your head through the shirt hole as you caught it being slammed shut at the very last second. Your simmering guest stood on the other side, struggling to ground himself from seeing your bare tits all in their glory. Rubbing the front of his face with a groan, RINDOU had half of mind to just walk the fuck home and save himself the humiliation. The door was closed, for fuck sake! A clear sign that you weren’t…decent. Blaming it on living with Ran all his life, with knocking being a rarity, the walking mullet exhaled deeply before heading back to the living room, sitting patiently on the couch this time.

He'd properly apologize once you came out.

After a few more minutes, you eventually did. However, the expression on your face was far from what he anticipated. You looked... smug? Despite his look of indifference, you could tell how flustered he actually was. With a raised brow, Rindou defensively gave a sharp, “What?” as you continued to scrutinize him.

He half expected for you to call him an idiot, and lecture him on the importance of knocking. But, when you merely lifted your shirt up by the hem to expose your bare chest, borderline forcing him to look this time, Rindou ‘bout busted right then and there in his pants like a goddamn virgin.

With a playful pout, you replied. “Don’t you want a closer look?”

Hell yes.

Doesn’t get any closer than having you pinned down to the couch, your shirt discarded elsewhere as he sucked on your little nubs ‘til they were raw, blowing cool air on them to illicit more delicious sounds from your kiss-bitten lips. Both of his hands multitasked between fondling the squishy mounds and playing with your weeping cunt as Rin stretched you around three of his fingers, dead set on getting you ready to take his dick whole. Probably shouldn’t have teased him like that; he finna ruin you for anyone else.

“Was trynna be respectful ‘n shit, sweetheart…not anymore.”

[ also could be: BAJI, MITSUYA, KAKUCHO ]

Isn’t phased at all, if anything he’d continue standing there and give himself an eye full. You can yell at him, throw things, hide, it didn’t matter—You’ve been keeping him waiting, might as well reward him for his patience thus far.

“Oo, lookie what we have here.~”

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t hoping for this outcome when he entered your room, unannounced. A good couple of minutes had gone by while HANMA stood in the doorway, greedy eyes soaking up your naked, unsuspecting form until he eventually made his presence known with a low whistle. You squawked out various expletives, quickly ducking to crouch by your bed in order to hide yourself from the Peeping Tom.

“Ohmygod! Shuji, get the hell out!”

“Mmm...nah, don’t think I will. Kinda like the view from where I’m standing.” He all but giggled, too pleased with how flustered you were; how cute.

You seethed, face practically on broil as you started throwing anything and everything to make him leave—A slipper, the tv remote, a stuffed animal, even some of your discarded clothes. Not your best idea…especially when you accidentally tossed your underwear. Of course he’d dodge everything else, but that. The golden eyed devil caught it with ease, the hand marked ‘Sin’ holding up the flimsy garment wearing a crooked grin as he dangled it in front of his face; taunting you.

“Give it.” With as much sternness you could muster from your pitiful position, you held out a hand expecting him to relent. Of course, he doesn’t. Hanma snickered.

“You want ‘em? Come get ‘em, doll.”

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t hoping for this outcome when he entered your room, unannounced. With your face buried in the sheets, a hand marked ‘Punishment’ pushing your back into a deeper arch while he fucked you from behind with the vigor of an animal in heat, Hanma thought he’d won the lottery. The way your pussy practically drooled around his girth with every hard thrust he gave you, your arousal smeared all over his abdomen and even dripping down his thighs, it was a wonder why he never thought to walk in on you sooner.

Even if you still bitched for the knocking, or lack thereof, he knew you weren’t too upset at him—Not with the way you were sucking him back in so eagerly.

“Ah!~ s-so…s’ deep in me, Shu..! N-Ne—Mm! Need you t’ slow down..!” You reached back to push at his hips, your weak attempt futile as he merely held your wrist behind your back. Hanma laughed, angling his thrusts upward to hook your sweet spot just to spite your desperate pleas.

“Had me waitin’ out there forever, [______]. Slow is the last thing I’m gonna do to you. Next time…lock the door.”

[ also could be: MIKEY, NAHOYA, RAN ]

#🍁wasabi #🍁allspice #tokyorev #tokyorev smut #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #tr smut #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #chifuyu #rindou #hanma

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