#sorry for the low exposure
Note
I noticed something in a lot of your Dick and Tim fics. It's probably so obvious, but you always write that Tim is watching Dick. In your newest one, Tim's watching Dick, in The Return Tim's watching Dick, and you even write that Tim is always watching him. Is Tim trying to read Dick? Trying to understand? Or does he understand him by watching? What is he trying to figure out by watching Dick? What does that say about Tim? I really hope this is intentional lmao because I would be embarrassed. Maybe this is just something so obvious that I'm just getting now.
YES IT’S ON PURPOSE <333 Anon. Anon. I'm so sorry this answer took forever, but listen, this was a really delightful ask <333 I think about this a lot. I really love origin stories—I like stories that resonate through a character’s history.
And for me, a whole lot of what interests me about Dick and Tim is that theme of watching and being watched. Seeing and being seen.
"Watch me on the trapeze, Tim. I'm going to do my act...'specially for you." | "Timmy, don't look." | "I turned away... I couldn't watch. Then I heard you crying and I turned back... I'm sorry, Dick. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you all this."
Dick's watching me. Gauging my reactions. (Tim watching Dick watching Tim!) | "I'm taking off the blindfold." "No!" | "I can't see him. You can't see him. But I know Robin. And Robin's always there when you need him." | I love that kid. Too much to let him see me like this. (But Tim spots him anyway.)
Spotlights and lighthouses and cameras and photographs. Blindness and vision and masks and detective work and trust.
I'm going to try to be coherent about this but it's gonna be incoherent sdfsf BUT I'M GOING TO TRY so. Below the cut, a really long grab-bag of my rambling on vision and watchers and watching.
Tim + watching / Dick + being watched / different dynamics
Tim's origin story
Being watched goes with vulnerability/exposure
Incomplete list of moments with Dick and Tim and vision
Tim + watching
The first time we see Tim's face in LPoD: a close-up on his eyes looking for Dick, a close-up on his eyes at the moment that he sees Dick, a pullback to his face at the moment of recognition, a pullback to his face + his camera
(you could maybe even argue that Tim comes into existence at the moment that he sees Dick, like, conceptually. the act of seeing is his defining characteristic. it is the thing that makes his character happen. he is the kid who's watching.)
Tim's a very vision-centric character: he's first introduced as a camera, then as a pair of binoculars, then as a pair of eyes. His whole backstory is about watching: watching Dick's parents die, watching Dick on TV, watching Batman and Robin. I've grabbed a few panels above with Tim watching Dick but there are so many more. His major deductions are all vision-based: he sees Dick-the-acrobat and later recognizes Dick-as-Robin; he sees Bruce-in-the-past and recognizes him as Bruce-of-our-time; the climactic moment in Red Robin is about going into a dark cave with a torch so he can see what's there.
And he's a detective. He pries into secrets. He analyzes people. He's a worrywart and a fusser who always wants to understand what's going on with other people. In a lot of those panels where Tim's watching Dick, his inner monologue is busy deducing Dick's emotions and trying to psychoanalyze him. Tim's caring and watchful and intuitive... but all those qualities also make him very very intrusive.
Dick + being watched
Dick performing acrobatics for Bruce, Donna, and Tim in Detective Comics 38 (his first appearance), New Teen Titans 16, Batman 441, and Nightwing 88 (where he reflects he's glad to be back in the hot glare of the spotlight)
Dick's a detective too, of course - Tim deliberately mirrors Dick, both in-universe and out-of-universe. But also Dick's a performer who loves being watched and also wants to control how he's seen. He gets a kick out of showing off, making puns, kicking ass, taking names, and he gets a kick out of having an appreciative audience. And he's got a kind of yearning for recognition - it hurts, when Bruce won't look at him, and in fights with Bruce, Babs, Roy, he'll often bring up the past, trying to get them to acknowledge a shared history.
At the same time, he's a very private person who withdraws and hides and pushes people away when he's upset. Right before Tim shows up, Dick's just ghosted the Titans because he's having emotional turmoil and doesn't want to have it in front of them, and they're trying to respect his wishes... but that solitude doesn't last long, because then Tim tracks him down. Tim will do this again when Dick's having an emotional crisis and trying to avoid everybody in Nightwing 110.
Possible dynamics
Tim watches Dick in Robin 11, while silently analyzing Dick's anxieties about Two-Face
"The watcher and the person being watched" is a dynamic that really interests me, partly because it can be so complicated?
You can see in Dick and Tim their very first roles: enthusiastic performer and the enthusiastic audience member. Dick likes to perform and show off and entertain; Tim likes to watch; those are roles they both easily slide into and they have a lot of fun together! But also you can look at the harsher side: the crime victim and the voyeur, the amateur photographer and the guy who hates being photographed. Dick's intensely private about his vulnerabilities; Tim's intrusive and watchful and constantly trying to figure out how other people tick. Sometimes Tim's the caring friend who watches Dick closely, reads him well, understands him; sometimes he's the nosy mini-detective who pries into Dick's secrets. And that's just two different ways of describing the same thing!
One of the things that kinda fascinates me about Dick and Tim's relationship is that in a lot of ways it's built on a bunch of low-key boundary violations. A lot of their early relationship is driven by Tim's desire to know more about Dick vs. Dick's reluctance to get close to anyone from Gotham; Tim's often out-of-line, but without his pushiness, it's hard to see how they would've developed a relationship at all. Later on, their friendlier relationship is marked by Dick teasing and low-key bullying Tim; it's pretty obvious that Tim isn't actually bothered by this, but it does involve Dick ignoring whatever Tim's claiming he doesn't like ("Quit it!" "Shh").
And one of the aspects of those boundary-violations is that Tim has a habit of witnessing things that Dick would prefer that nobody see. Tim's a witness to Dick's first and most miserable tragedy; he sees the aftermath of some of Dick's fights with Bruce; he's there when Donna dies. And he's sharp and observant and analytical, and I like to imagine this as being something Dick's not entirely comfortable with.
When Dick first meets Tim, it's before he's learned to wear a mask. And Tim spends a lot of time trying to see through Dick's masks, and he's pretty good at it, and a lot of that prying comes from love and care, because one of the ways that Tim shows love and respect and admiration is by trying to absorb absolutely everything about you, like a little sponge. But there's also something unsparing and even threatening about the search for the truth of someone else. It can be comforting or threatening, to know someone's watching you.
And I love how all that complexity is wrapped up in Tim's origin story? Both the giddy childish "Watch me on the trapeze" and then the awful grim reality of what Tim actually sees as a result and then the difficult connection when Dick and Alfred finally get Tim to explain how he knows their secret identities.
Tim's origin story
Tim (recounting his origin story in LPoD): My parents held me back as the thing moved to you. I cried out to warn you. (Two panels where we see just Tim's eyes, as he watches a crying Dick. He sees Batman approach and start trying to comfort Dick.)
I think fiction sometimes presents "being understood / seen / known" as an uncomplicatedly good thing, and there's nothing wrong with that! But I like complications, and I like the way Tim's origin story frames that moment of witnessing as difficult and fraught. Tim doesn't want to tell Dick how he knows their secret identities because he thinks it'll hurt Dick to know it: I don't want to hurt you, Dick, and I'm really afraid I might. And he's not wrong. It is painful; it does hurt; it's not something Dick's happy to know.
Dick's a very private person, and there's a painful intimacy to Tim's origin story - it's not Tim's fault he was there, but at the same time, it's not like Dick chose to have the most traumatic moment of his life on stage in front of an audience of strangers, you know? It's kind of a violation. In NTT/NT/Nightwing, Dick's pretty violently hostile to photographers, and he's intensely private about trauma in general, and I like to imagine this as partly a reaction to that foundational trauma of losing the most important people in his life and also doing it publicly.
And Tim's part of that audience. And he sees the worst part, the part that Dick can't talk about. He sees the bodies and the blood. He has nightmares about it for years. He hears Dick crying and sees him holding onto his parents' bodies. Not at all the kind of first impression Dick would want to make. Not at all the kind of person he wants to be seen as. And that understanding can be painful, because it's so close to the bone, and when Tim's just a stranger, it's upsetting, because Tim knows things that Dick would never have chosen for him to know. Their few conversations about it are awkward partly because Tim's thirteen and awkward... but at the same time, it's not Tim's fault so much as the situation! There's no way for Tim to talk about what he saw that wouldn't be uncomfortable for Dick.
... And yet, and yet. Tim's also one of the last people to see the Graysons alive. He sees Dick and his parents together; he even takes a picture with them. He remembers the whole thing so vividly he'll recognize Dick's somersault years later. He sees the grief. And so I think of that connection as kind of a metaphor for witnessing. Tim sees these things and they become real; Dick can't hide from them; in the act of being seen he's caught, he's in a spotlight, all the grief made real. You can't hide, that way. And Tim's got this unforgiving memory; he won't ever forget; he won't ever stop knowing.
But then, too: Dick's seen, he's known. Even at the very beginning, when Tim doesn't know enough to understand what he knows, he knows the important things.
So that shared memory is a barrier and a bond between them. It can be a source of discomfort or a source of comfort. And that's how I think about Tim watching Dick in general - it's complicated, and sometimes Dick's glad of it, and sometimes he resents it, and also it just is, it's a fact of Tim, that Tim watches. It's notable when he's not watching, when he's turned away.
Being watched goes with vulnerability/exposure
So I'm going to talk about the fraught feeling of being watched more in a little bit, but first: I think it's fascinating that Dick likes screwing around with games where Tim can't see!
Here's Nightwing 25 - Dick's come up with the idea of trainsurfing while blindfolded:
Tim: Are you sure this is such a good idea?
Dick: Shh! Listen. Tune into the changing sounds and -
Tim: I'm not so -
Dick: JUMP!
Here's Robin 49 - clambering through a tunnel into No Man's Land:
Dick: Hard not to think about the river. All the water above us. And bugs. This tunnels' probably full of 'em. And rats. Big ones. Big blind rats with teeth as long as -
Here's Gotham Knights 9 - ambushing Tim in a sorta game of hide-and-seek:
Dick: Gotcha!
Tim: Augh!
I feel like mmm I don't want to emphasize power dynamics too much because it's easy to overplay it BUT when I think about headcanons it's interesting to me to think about how maybe when Tim can't see, Dick's more in charge / in control, and so he feels more comfortable and less vulnerable, and that's often when he's most relaxed and playing around the most?
Whereas the moments when Tim's looking at him are often a bit more fraught, as here in Lonely Place of Dying:
Tim: I'm sorry, Dick. I really am. I didn't want to hurt you by telling you all this. Dick...
Dick: It's all right, Tim. No matter how old you are, there are some things you never forget. Or get over.
(Silent panel: Tim's watching Dick as Dick turns away and stares into the window.)
Or here in Nightwing 6, when Tim wakes him up from a nightmare:
Dick (internally, imagining a kid falling): He shouts to me. He always shouts to me. I never hear what he says.
Tim: Nightwing! Wake up!
Or here in Gotham Knights 26, when Bruce is accused of murder:
(Silent panel where Tim's watching Dick.)
Tim: I'm sorry. This must be hard for you.
Dick: Me? Why?
Tim: Well, I mean, it'd be one thing if we really knew he was innocent, but as it is -
Dick: Wait, what? Stop right there. What are you saying, Tim?
Here's Tim spotting him before he can get away in Nightwing 110:
Dick (watching Tim from a distance, internally): Still, Timmy played it through nice and clean. Disarmed the perps, protected and avoided the cops. Kept any civilians from getting shot. God, I love that kid. Too much to let him see me like this.
Tim: Hey! (appearing on the roof above him, fake-cheerful) You weren't gonna leave without saying hi, were you?
Dick (looking away, very quietly): Hey, Timmy.
Tim: Look at you, man! Back on both feet! Think you're done stopping bullets with your body for a while?
Dick: Hope springs eternal.
(Silent panel with Tim watching Dick, who's turned away.)
Tim: You okay, Dick?
Dick: I'm fine.
Tim: Well, where're you staying these days?
Dick: With some people.
Of course, sometimes Tim's watchfulness is frustrating but also a comfort, as in Detective Comics 874:
Tim (watching Dick, who's looking away): Are you listening to me, Batman? I'm saying the gas the Dealer used on you was powerful stuff.
Dick: I'm fine, Red Robin. Besides...you're here now.
Tim: You're not fine. And with or without me, you shouldn't be out on patrol ye -
Dick: Sshhh. Here they come.
(Later in the comic, Dick mentally concedes that Tim's right that he hasn't really recovered from the gas, and Tim saves him from drowning when he's hallucinating. So Dick feels kind of exposed by the scrutiny, but also... he invited Tim along, so there's trust there, too - Tim's perceptiveness can be a good thing, too, when things are serious.)
Incomplete summary of moments with Dick and Tim and vision
I think I already mentioned a lot of these but here is my LIST
almost the first thing that Dick says to Tim is "watch me on the trapeze, Tim" and then Tim does and he basically never stops watching;
Tim watches Dick's parents die and watches Dick sobbing on-stage and watches him on TV and recognizes him by seeing a particular trick because he's dreamed about Dick doing the trick in his recurring nightmares about that night;
in New Titans 65 which is their very first team-up comic after Tim's origin, Dick's training pre-Robin Tim and gives him a test about watching for details and later Tim's takeaway is "I saw how [the Titans] listened to you";
there's a moment in Showcase '93 12 which is just Tim watching Dick and analyzing what's going on with him and there's another moment in Prodigal which is the same thing;
in Nightwing 6 Tim sneaks into Dick's apartment and hides in the dark and Dick spots him and tackles him; one of their most important bonding comics is Nightwing 25, where Dick insists on blindfolding him to get him to rely less on vision; when they sneak into No Man's Land they're in the dark and Tim can't see again and Dick's teasing him;
there are multiple moments when Tim can't see Dick for a bit and panics about his safety, in Nightwing 25, in No Man's Land, in Transference, in Bruce Wayne: Murderer;
Tim's there watching when Dick's wedding to Kory falls apart and he's there watching when Bruce and Dick fight and he's there watching when Donna dies and he's watching when Dick and Bruce swing together on the night before Infinite Crisis, and when Dick goes down and almost dies in Infinite Crisis we cut to Tim watching and seeing it happen and screaming;
there are multiple moments which are just silent panels of them staring at each other trying to figure out what's going on with each other or having a stand-off - in Bruce Wayne: Murderer, in Resurrection, in Red Robin;
in the aftermath of Donna's death there's a panel where Dick's watching Tim from a distance and not approaching;
in the aftermath of Blockbuster Dick spends half the comic just staring at Tim from a distance and hiding himself because "I love that kid - too much to let him see me like this," but Tim sees him anyway and chases him down and then they lie to each other and *ranting* LISTEN TO ME the whole comic is about Dick trying to AVOID being SEEN both literally but also METAPHORICALLY AND --!!!
(the only thing i'm even as halfway obsessive about for them is the heights thing because also there are a bunch of moments involving falling or Tim being anxious about heights and worried that he'll fall or Dick will fall)
In conclusion
Consider the progression in all these moments where Tim's watching an upset Dick and worrying about him!! From reaching out instinctively-but-pointlessly when he's too far away in the LPoD flashback, to almost reaching out in LPoD but hesitating, to putting a hand on Dick's back to walk him back to the Cave in Gotham Knights 10, to physically dragging him clear of the water in Batman: Black Mirror!
In conclusion I don't have a conclusion but basically YES, "watching Dick" is a core Tim characteristic as far as I'm concerned, and Tim watches Dick a lot and that can mean all kinds of things from admiration to nosy intrusiveness to worry to care to gratitude to trying-to-figure-out-what's-going-on-with-him, and sometimes Dick's resentful and sometimes he's relieved and sometimes he's playful and sometimes it's a mix of all those feelings.
And at first it's always Tim watching Dick, but later you've got Dick watching Tim too, and there's that moment where Dick's secretly watching him fight but Tim spots him in Nightwing 110 and there's a silent panel where Dick's watching him in Resurrection and at the very end of Robin there's a scene where Dick's secretly watching him fight but Tim spots him and in the very last issue of Red Robin Dick's watching the end of the confrontation with Boomerang and in Prodigal Dick's the one who notices his face is bruised and aaaaaaah
Anyway I think they're neat <3
#ask tag#hi anon this is SO old i'm so sorry sdfsfs#if you're still here hi!! <333#this was such a validating ask to get because as you can probably tell i think about the vision thing constantly#also this is SO long oh man. sorry i just started typing and it went on and on sdfdsf#dick grayson#tim drake#dick & tim#it's like. it's just endlessly fascinating to me because the paparazzi/photography stuff is one of dick's biggest triggers#and tim's introduced as a surreptitious amateur photographer#so there's no WAY they will ever get along#but then there's the Meaningful Photo from before the show#that low-key shows that tim's freaky obsessiveness comes from a place of genuine caring & this moment of real connection#so you have early days!dick kinda vibrating back and forth between 'I DON'T WANT HIM MAKE HIM GO AWAY'#vs. those moments when he IS getting attached to tim kinda against his will sdfsdf#and just. the dichotomy between paying attention as a form of love vs. being watched as a kind of violation and exposure#and that both are kinda the same thing?? and dick deeply craves the first and deeply hates the second#tim shows up being all I REMEMBER and what he remembers is exactly what dick was demanding bruce remember in b416#but /also/ he remembers /everything/ 'i remember it all' he remembers the graysons dying in incredibly painful detail#and like. kid!tim is very tactless & has only two switches of 'TELL HIM NOTHING' and 'if forced to speak then overshare'#but the tactlessness is a fixable problem and the remembering is /not/#it's not like it's any better for tim to keep his mouth shut & dick to just be painfully /aware/ that he's thinking abt the graysons dying#bc ofc /tim/ remembering forces /dick/ to remember#but!! but also. you know. maybe that remembering /isn't/ entirely a bad thing#and dick's feelings about it can change over time#anyway tim's not the only person that dick has this kind of conflict with - wally & roy sometimes chase him down when he's withdrawing too#and he often doesn't really appreciate it from them either#and dick's not the only person who gets subjected to tim's particular brand of intrusive caring#conner's not thrilled about the dna thing & ives would be within his rights to resent the stalking even though he doesn't#but i am obviously personally most fond of the ways this plays out with dick & tim
280 notes
·
View notes
Text
sparkle on, tiberius ✨
#my art#low stakes 🦇#my old friend crimson-catalyst helped with the shoes!! basically drew the shoe sketch while i slept. please check out his art he's great#anyway not many vampires sparkle in my lore. like at all. it's a super rare trait even among the daywalkers. tiberius is a weird exception#most vampires just kinda burn. or crack. and otherwise can't deal with the sun very well#and most daywalker vampires - upon sun exposure - get these dark ashy marks on their skin instead#so most vampires don't even know sparkling like this is a thing that is possible#he sure is sparkling like a MARBLE STATUE ✨ (do they actually sparkle?? idk man it's probably just a figure of speech at this point)#happy birthday silly boy#anyway his birthday is feb 2nd and he'd be uhhh. 2144 years old today#a grecoroman idiot twink. i don't think he remembers his original name - his cause of undeath was drowning in the river of tiber though#being drunk on wine while accidentally becoming a vampire is never a good idea (major memory loss may happen)#so he's just been going by tiberius. for a while. like that's just his name now#for the record he is very gay. he doesn't call it that but he totally is#also i don't care for twilight sorry it's too romantic and mormon for my taste. but its vampire lore is funny and i'll borrow from anything#like the sparkles. maybe one vampire does sparkle. as a treat#hope you enjoyed my tag ramble. time to actually post
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
something something losing weight as a visual signifier that life's going downhill something something
#sorry for the extremely low res first geoffrey pic lmao#sth#archie sonic#geoffrey st john#text post#hunk death#what exposure to evil mutated wizards does to a mfer
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love Letter
3 August 2023
#sorry this one looks kinda weird. i had my exposure too low when i took the pictures#dailysapphiclego#lego#lego photography#sapphic#lesbian#wlw#cute#wholesome
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
Unpopular opinion: it’s disheartening to see rec lists. I know those (like you) create them with good intentions, to help support other writers and share their stories… but it always seems like the same people get their stories featured, while writers like me don’t ever get included, despite following all the same people. It just makes you wonder if your writing wasn’t good enough, or not memorable enough, or if those people don’t follow you back or dont care about whatever you post. Just feels kind of defeating.
#i am so so sorry#i can relate to feeling defeated about this#it's hard not to compare yourself and once you're in that headspace it's hard to stop#as someone who creates rec lists i agreee that some fics get recommended more than others#and i will say it puts me in an awkward position where i want to include the fics but at the same time it's not fair to exclude a fic#it isn't the writer's fault and it seems kind of shitty to exclude them#but it doesn't mean it doesn't have an effect on others like yourself#that being said i do think there are a lot of different factors that contribute to this#the sw x reader community isnt as big as people think it is#and the tumblr tag system is fucked#i used to use it a lot to find new fics but since deceember it's completely broke#it excludes a lot of fics#and includes fics that aren't even tagged with the tag i'm searching for#and i know people don't like to hear it but reblogs have been down#and low reblogs happen for a number of different reasons#but if the tags are broken adnd reblogs are low it means that exposure to fics is down#and something that isn't talked about a lot is the push from other social media platforms#a lot of the fics that get recommended a lot fo times are coming from people that found it on tiktok or twitter#and it's going to piss off some people but i think people on other sm hyperfixate on certain fics#and it turns into that fic being the new cool hyperfixation to get views and interaction#and yes it's a good thing#but it also means other fics are tossed to the side#but i guess that is how social media works#but i will always recommend that if someone accepts recommendations then RECOMMEND YOUR FICS#seriously#do it#do it right now#a lot of getting your fics out there is you needing to sort of push your way in#you need to remind people they are there because things to get lost in the shuffle here on tumblr#and trust me when i say that self-recommendations are more common than people think
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mattheo Riddle. | couldn’t help yourself.
PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle × Reader
SUMMARY: PHEW…uh-pure smut? like, extremely self-indulgent exhibitionism, with overstim thrown in there too. i’m sorry. but i’m also not. reader teases matty during class and makes him go feral.
WORD COUNT: 3.8k.
TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, DUBCON, Degradation, Praise, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Absolute Feralism, Humiliation, Spitting, Very Slight Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasm, Multiple Creampie, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk.
Mattheo's usually charismatic demeanour had been replaced by one of raw fury as he dragged you by the arm into a nearby closet, directly following an admittedly heated potions lecture. You could feel the fire emanating off him, his body tensed with an unspoken rage. You knew you'd fucked up.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he spat out, his voice low and dangerous as he slammed the door shut behind you, blanketing the two of you in darkness. "Trying to get me hard in class like that?"
You could barely catch your breath, the scent of his cologne and the feel of his fingers still lingering on your skin as you stood meekly before him. Despite his anger, you could see the hints of lust burning within his dark eyes, betraying the true nature of his feelings towards you.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice shaking as he backed you up against the door, your fingers trembling at your sides. "I-I couldn't help myself, Matty-"
"You couldn't help yourself?" he repeated, his lips dangerously close to yours as he spoke, hungry eyes peering down at you. "You couldn't help but try and turn me on in the middle of a fucking lecture? Do you see how fucking hard you made me?"
Advancing, his hands found purchase against the door on either side of your head, exerting a subtle but commanding pressure. As he pressed closer, you squirmed, acutely aware of the firm, insistent length of his grazing against your stomach. A tempting desire stirred within, urging you to reach out and grope him, to make him moan beneath your touch. Yet, you knew better than to push him any further.
"I'm sorry," you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked up at him with doe-eyes, filled with a mix of fear and arousal. "Please don't be mad."
Mattheo let out a low growl, his nails digging into the wood next to your head as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, his body towering over yours, already rendering you powerless beneath him.
"You want me to be mad," he muttered, his lips ghosting along your jaw in a teasing caress, heat pooling from your core and soaking through the lacy fabric of your panties. "You want me to punish you for being such a dirty fucking slut, don't you?"
A jolt coursed through your stomach, and it was then that the realization dawned on you that he might actually fuck you in this cramped closet, situated in the midst of a bustling hallway where the imminent risk of discovery loomed.
The proximity to other students and faculty outside the door intensified the gravity of the situation. Somehow, you hadn't grasped this possibility earlier, your focus consumed by your boyfriends overwhelming intensity. But now, as the weight of potential consequences sank in, you felt the increased urgency to diffuse the escalating scenario before it spiraled into a precarious exposure.
"N-no, Matty--I'm sorry," your voice trembled in a hushed whisper, the words catching in your throat. Arousal had you choking on your apology, and even to yourself, the plea felt unconvincing. "Please, let's just-"
"You think that's appropriate behaviour? You think it's okay to act like that in front of everyone, huh?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed his body against yours, halting your pathetic attempt at talking him down. "You little fucking tease."
Without wasting another second, he shifted, his big hungry hands roaming over your body, exploring every inch of your trembling form as he vented his frustration. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you tightly against him as he ground his hardness into the crease of your thigh, your head falling back and meeting the resistance of the doors thin wood.
"I could have you right now if I wanted to," he muttered, his voice low and menacing as his lips grazed over your lobe. "You'd let me, wouldn't you? You want my cock, don't you?"
You quivered at the feel of his warm breath against your skin, your heart racing in your chest as you wondered what the fuck he would do next. There was something exhilarating about being at Mattheo's mercy, about being on the receiving end of his fiery temper and dangerous desires. You loved testing your boyfriend for this very reason alone, regardless of how it always seemed to put you in rather precarious positions.
"Matty-" you muttered, cautiously raising your hands, gently pressing them against his sides in an attempt to ground you both, to remind him of where you were. "Let's go back to-"
"Shut the fuck up," he spat, his voice slicing through the air with a sharper edge.
One hand disengaged from your body, swiftly moving to undo his belt, and the metallic jangle of the latch snapped you back to reality. As his trousers slid halfway down his thighs, his other hand seized a fistful of your hair, compelling your gaze to meet the throbbing evidence of arousal that you had singlehandedly incited.
"See what you fucking did to me? See how fucking hard I am?" His voice was shredded, torn, almost pained, his grip in your hair mimicking his intensity as he jostled your head in his grasp. "You caused this fucking problem, you're going to fix it."
"It's not that bad, Matty," you muttered, lifting your shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, attempting to preserve a semblance of composure. Lying through your teeth was a skill you were never good at. He was so fucking hard it looked painful. "You've had worse."
Mattheo groaned, the sound reverberating as he slammed his fist against the door, bringing your head along with it. Without giving you a second to steady your blurred vision, his free hand gripped your jaw, his intense gaze locking onto yours, lips so close they’d touch with a deep enough breath.
"Yeah? You wanna' fucking test that theory?" he growled, his eyes narrowing in challenge. "You wanna' feel how much this fucking hurts?"
You mewled, entirely involuntarily, your body seemingly taking on a mind of its own. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second as Mattheo leaned in closer, licking a hot trail up the side of your neck and biting down hard on your ear, making you squeal far louder than what you should have.
"You gonna' be quiet for me? Or are you gonna' get us caught, huh?" His hand released your jaw, navigating to the band of your panties, skillfully tugging them down your thighs. Stepping back, he afforded you space to step out of them, yet his other hand remained steadfast, refusing to abandon its hold on your hair. "You'd like that though, wouldn't you? Someone walking in to find me fucking my dumb little girlfriend like the filthy fucking whore she is."
"Fuck," another shift, and Mattheo was working his briefs down his thighs now. "I'm not a whore-"
"Mhm," he sneered, the arrogant tone of his voice making your cunt pulse. You cursed yourself internally for loving him even when he's a sadistic asshole. Or, especially when. "Says the whore letting me fuck her in a broom closet between classes."
Mattheo grunted in effort, and you didn't even notice your teeth breaking the skin on your bottom lip until his grip tightened and he yanked the fabric of his briefs over his hips, his massive cock springing free. Staring at it--tumescent, twitching, the head gleaming with pre-cum--every muscle between your hips pulsed, body flooded with hot, heavy lust.
"Shit," you breathed, snapping yourself from your trance, wincing slightly as his grip tightened on your scalp. "Says the man who got bricked up from a simple fucking thigh touch-"
At your words, Mattheo snapped, as if finally wearied by your teasing. His substantial hand seized your jaw once again, exerting enough force to clench your teeth together. A resounding thud echoed as he pressed you against the door, his other hand transitioning from your hair to encircle your thigh, drawing it around his waist.
"Watch your fucking tongue," he spat, his dark eyes piercing into your flustered skin. With feigned thrusts, he rutted his hips against you, a warning in his tone. "Keep up with the attitude and I'll put that dirty mouth to a different use. And I'll make it fucking hurt."
"Mmmph," you huffed, squirming in his grip, his cock gliding along your slick folds, catching on your clit. You knew you weren't getting out of this now, and not a single shred of you wanted to. "Fine."
"That's it," he husked, altering his grip to pry your jaw open with two fingers. "Good fucking slut."
Leaning in, he spat inside your mouth, compelling your jaw to close afterward.
"Swallow it," he commanded, his tone a blend of authority and desire. "What do you say?"
Your gratitude was a muted grumble as you complied, your body throbbing with an undeniable, pent-up need. "Thank you, daddy."
Mattheo's eyes darkened at your obedience--not daring to wait a second longer before snatching you by the hips, hoisting you up and slamming you against the door. You groaned, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, wanting to touch as much of his body as physically possible.
Mattheo nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the crescents of his nails nipping at the sensitive flesh of your thighs while he angled himself at your wet, wanting core. A moan left you, your own nails scraping over the fabric on his back as he braced himself before ramming deep into your cunt--and that moan became a loud, sharp cry.
"Fuck," he whispered into your ear, hips setting a savage pace from the start. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? This is what you were practically fucking begging me for."
Words evaded you as the thick haze of pleasure fogged your mind, your body liquefying against him. Incoherent babbling--blended with groans of bliss--were the best you could do.
"Little wanton slut, couldn't even--fuck--couldn't wait until after class-" the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed loudly in the cramped closet, making you wonder if anyone outside could hear you. The thought lit a thrill up your spine, the mere prospect of exhibitionism, of getting caught. "You're so fucking wet for me, I bet you've been thinking about this all day--my insatiable little cockslut--fuck-"
"Fuck-yes-Matty!" You could barely choke out the words between the force of his thrusts. "You fuck me so good--make me feel so fucking good-"
"Do you know how much trouble we could get into if someone catches us?" he teased, his hands tightening around your thighs, baring bruises on the tender flesh. "But you like it rough, don't you? You like the idea of getting caught with your skirt up around your waist and my cock buried deep inside this tight little pussy."
His words were hot and filthy, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing moment. He knew just how to push your buttons, how to make you cum harder than you ever had before--each syllable making your wet walls squeeze him harder.
"M-Matty-fuck-" he was ruthless, now, his cock ramming into your cunt, splitting you wider with every savage thrust. "Oh, fuck-"
You were only halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth--tangled streams of pleasure and pain paired with cursing pleas for more, wanting him to dig you out from the inside, hollow you until empty--and despite the risk of getting caught, you didn't care. You'd never felt so full, so complete in your entire life. Each thrust delved deeper, each one more forceful than the last, the sheer gravity of them resonating with resounding bangs against the thin wooden door.
"Mmmfh, this is what you fucking deserve-" his teeth aggressively nipped at your earlobe, warm breath forcefully coaxing over your trembling flesh as he shifted, slamming into your cervix with unyielding intensity. A torrent of yelps and pleas streamed past your teeth, met with a dismissive indifference from Mattheo, his aggression fueling the relentless pursuit of his desire. "Teasing me like a little desperate slut--carrying on until I couldn't take it anymore..."
Mattheo's merciless assault on your g-spot continued, the pleasure tainted by a numbing ache as he slammed your cervix in unison. Your nails desperately sought purchase on his back, an attempt to reclaim some agency or at least remind him that you were more than a vessel for his primal desires. Yet, lost in the grip of his own instincts, he treated you as if you were merely a doll, a receptacle for his release, a result of the absolute animalistic power you'd drawn out of him.
"Now look what you made me do," he spat through clenched teeth, voice reverberating down your spine. His words dripped with venom, but there was a hint of satisfaction in the way he spoke. "Degrade and humiliate my girlfriend, fuck her in a dusty fucking broom closet-fuck-"
"Hurts." Your eyes rolled back, disappearing into your skull as a glistening sheen of perspiration covered your flesh. Soft, lingering moans continued to escape your lips as you muttered, "hurts so good."
"Yeah, yeah it fucking does," he continued, his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. He was moaning, panting at his own words. "I know you want to cum on this fucking cock, baby, tell me how bad you want it."
He was going to send you over the edge, talking like that. "So bad! So, so bad, Matty! Needa' cum on your thick cock, please-"
"Mhm, that's fucking right..." his hand abandoned your thigh, gliding down the front of your body. "My good little slut, so obsessed with my cock."
Mattheo leaned back, creating just enough space to let the pads of his rough fingers tease your quivering bundle of nerves. Your response was a mixture of a squeal and a moan, your hips instinctively jerking against his, each rhythmic thrust pushing you relentlessly toward the brink of release. Under your warped cries of ecstasy, you caught his desperate, growling breath as he fucked harder into you, his own moans leaking out while his thrusting became more erratic.
"Gonna' cum for me, baby?" His voice was softer now, you knew he was getting close. You knew he was barely hanging on. "Tight little pussy gonna' cum for me?"
"Please, Matty," your voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable, your desperation palpable. "Needa' cum so bad..."
"Yeah, I feel you squeezing me..." his tone was uneven, panting and growling. "Cum."
The coil of pressure inside of you burst, enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his dick, milking his thick girth as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. Set off by your eruption, Mattheo only lasted a few more thrusts before he moaned your name, cursing through clenched teeth as he came with long, stuttering thrusts, pumping his cum deep into your pussy.
Bringing both hands back to grasp your thighs, your boyfriend buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lungs still heaving for oxygen as he paused for a brief moment, collecting himself just enough before he began to slowly resume thrusting into you, revelling in the feeling of your slick, cum-filled walls gripping his cock like a perfectly-crafted vice. You were so sensitive, so fucking overstimulated you couldn't even begin to comprehend the sensations, clearly having underestimated the sheer force of his desire, entirely.
"You feel so goddamn good," he grunted, his lips pressed against your neck, making you squirm and whine against him. "I could fuck you for hours."
"Matty," you hiccuped, your gasp getting caught in your lungs as he thrust into your sticky cunt with a particularly harsh thrust. "Too much--it's too much Matty...so sensitive..."
Dismissing your protests, Mattheo began to increase the pace of his thrusts, this time more deliberately, as though taking his time to savour the feel of your tight pussy wrapped around him. A moan involuntarily slipped past your lips as he tightened his grip, holding you more firmly than ever. Trapped within his grasp, his chest pressed your back against the unyielding wood of the door, leaving you with no visible escape route.
"Oh, I think you can," he said, his voice low and dangerous, the strain in his tone evident by the sheer rasp. "You're going to take all of it, princess...this is what you fucking wanted, isn't it?"
As he spoke, he quickened his pace, driving deeper and deeper inside of you with each thrust. Your body bucked against him, overwhelmed by the intensity of pleasure that coursed through you. You threw your head back, lids sealing shut, trembling digits grasping at his thick chocolate curls, body once again submitting to his power.
"Gods!" Your eyes rolled straight back into your head, clenching around him when he started fucking into you faster. "Can't, Matty! Can't-"
"Can't what?" he growled, pulling his face from your neck to meet your gaze, his eyes black with impatient lust, stark against his reddened cheeks. "Can't take it? Can't handle me?"
Fire rose in your chest, and on instinct, you tightened your hold on the two fistfuls of his hair--tugging at his scalp, nails scraping his skin as his throbbing cock fucked you deep. "Matt-"
"C'mon baby, you're doing so good, taking me so perfect..." his voice was sickening, almost indefinitely sadistic, and you whimpered, squirming as a firestorm raged through you. "I'm going slow, princess...just relax, breathe...I know this greedy little pussy can handle it..."
Fog seeped into your skull--you wanted to think, to speak, to do anything other than suck air into your lungs and knead his soft, curly strands between your fingers, but you were gone--possessed, swallowed by your boyfriends primal power, which only seemed to increase as his plush, wet lips found yours.
A garbled groan escaped you, muffled by the fervent presence of your boyfriend's mouth. Your eyes rolled back for what had to have been the hundredth time, losing themselves in a sea of white as Mattheo's urgency intensified. His fingernails dug into your skin, a force threatening to shatter, his shoulders tensing with an obsessive, impulsive need. Hips smacking against your flesh, each thrust seemed fueled by an unwillingness to let you go. An unwillingness to pull out.
Your breasts bounced with the escalating rhythm, a physical manifestation of the desire that consumed him. Mattheo pressed his tongue past your teeth, navigating your molars with a hunger that mirrored his relentless need, the kiss growing hungrier and wetter by the second as he slipped his hand back between your bodies, fingers relentlessly twirling over your aching, sensitive clit.
"See baby, you're taking me so well," he spoke again, his tone low and appreciative, his pace quickening, his hungry eyes dipping over your whimpering expressions. "I knew you would--you're so fucking tight around me, make me feel so good..."
Despite his soft tone, his thrusts and fingers betrayed that, and you felt the shockwave quake through your body, flesh jiggling, a wail of pain forced from your lungs as he smacked your cervix. He was ruthless, now, his cock ramming into your cunt, splitting you wider with every savage thrust, dragging you back towards another orgasm faster than you could even comprehend it.
"Wanna' cum, Matty-" you wailed, voice cracking, nails surely breaking the skin on his neck as you held onto him for dear life. "I wanna' cum for you! Needa’ cum for you-please!"
"Yeah? You wanna cum for me again, huh?" He was pushing his words out between his shallow breath, teeth grit and brows furrowed in effort. "You think you deserve that? You think you deserve two orgasms after what you did?"
You groaned, breath missing you, vision hazed with pleasure as you met his eyes--wild and animalistic with lust. You couldn't fucking believe that he was still teasing you like this, how he even had the strength left to do it. You marveled at his almost inhumane lust, his primal fervour seemingly boundless.
"Please! I'm sorry!" You were practically screaming, not giving a fuck who was outside the door. "I'm sorry Matty! Please-"
His first response was to squeeze you tighter, fuck into you harder, turn your pleas into screams as he pulverized your cunt--but then, after thinking on it momentarily, he spoke.
"Cum for me fucking slut," he hissed, the words a brunt command. "Don't you ever forget who's in control here again."
"Yes--fuck--yes!"
Lightning tore through your nervous system, leaving a wake of sparks in its path, and you clenched around his dick, shaking and spasming as your second orgasm quaked through your body with a force that could have rendered you unconscious.
Mattheo growled, gripped you to his chest, pressing his lips back to yours as he continued slamming your pussy, panting and groaning while he fucked you through your high and straight into his own--a low, feral roar escaping him, his cum spilling deep into your cunt for the second time.
Your head was ringing too loud to hear him reach climax, to your honest dismay--you only felt it. Felt the violent fucking into your cervix, felt the pitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself in your neck while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, his hand falling away from your dripping, aching cunt.
When you'd returned to reality, panting for breath, he'd already slipped out of you, aiding you in steadying yourself on the ground. Meeting your eyes, he reached down, gathering the cum seeping from your cunt and collecting it on his fingers. Examining your face, he smirked, free hand gripping your jaw as he forcefully popped the fingers into your mouth.
Groaning, you tried to spit it out--your mouth already drier than the desert, his salty cum only increasing your thirst--but he was persistent, reaching the back of your throat and holding there until you'd started to suck his fingers clean. He watched you, the lust dying in his eyes, replaced with a sated adoration--and he seemed to catch himself, smirking and swirling his fingers along your tongue.
When you'd finished, you whimpered, meeting his gaze with tired eyes, and he pulled himself free from your mouth, leaning down to capture your lips with his as he started piecing himself back together.
“Love you, Matty,” you muttered as he pulled away, watching him run a hand through his sweaty hair, unsticking his curls from his damp forehead. “S’much.”
“Love you too, baby,” he tutted, briskly relatching up his belt before throwing an arm around your waist to support your jelly legs. “Let’s skip charms and head back to my dorm. We’ll run you a bath.”
#harry potter#mattheoriddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheosmut#mattheoxreader#mattheo x you#mattheo x y/n#mattheo smut#mattheo riddle#mattheo#mattriddlesmut#draco malfoy smut#tom riddle smut#tom riddle#tomriddle smut#theodorenottsmut#theoriddlesmut#theodore smut#theodore nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodorenott#theodore nott#tomriddlesmut#tom riddle x reader#theo nott smut#draco smut#dracomalfoy#blaisezabini#lorenzo berkshire smut#lorenzo berkshire
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Lavender Haze | Matt Sturniolo
Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N drowns amidst so much criticism and negative comments from the media regarding her relationship, but Matt is right by her side to bring her back to the surface and surround her in a lavender haze.
Warning: Mentions of hate, slightly angst.
Requested?: No.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
A/N²: This fic was written for the Challenge for the writers 2024 made by @annamcdonalds67
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Staring at the ceiling with you
Oh, you don't ever say too much
Y/N lay down next to Matt on the double bed that decorated the room. The soft gloom emanated from the corner lamp, painting the scene with orange tones. Their intertwined fingers on the mattress formed a comforting bond, a silent affirmation of each other's presence there. Together, they observed the ceiling as if they were tracing constellations on the white paint in their minds.
The silence that surrounded them was serene, and their synchronized breathing seemed to compose a soft song. Matt knew that sometimes words were unnecessary. There was no need to try to force empty conversations when each other's presence was enough.
Y/N's thoughts, however, were a whirlwind. The sudden exposure that accompanied her relationship with Matt - which they just had revealed to the public some months before - had left her overwhelmed, despite her boyfriend's advance warnings about what followed him with his career. As someone who preferred a low-key life, being dragged into the spotlight of fame was suddenly a big experience.
While her body was physically in the room, her mind felt the weight of these thoughts slowly crushing her. It was an internal battle to maintain sanity amid the media storm that surrounded them.
And you don't really read into
My melancholia
Matt, on his side, noticed the melancholy in Y/N's eyes and the way her brow was constantly frowning, but he respected her silence. He understood the pressure she faced; the crazed fans who used her words against herself and criticized every second of the videos she made a little appearance or was only mentioned, and his heart burned to be able to help her more, but he knew that trying to interpret her thoughts could only increase her distress, his own mind bringing him the mere memory of the episode from some night's before.
To the soft sound of popcorn crackling in the kitchen next door, Y/N anxiously waited for Matt on the made bed, wrapped in the comfort of the fluffy comforter. Her phone rested in her hands, and she slid her fingers across the screen to access her Instagram feed. A notification caught her attention, a tag on a photo posted by the boy.
With an anticipated smile, Y/N opened the post and found herself among the images of a photo dump posted a few hours ago. Her heart filled with warmth when she saw the picture of them together, the girl didn't know how to explain what she felt when she saw him post so openly about them, having gone through difficult situations in this regard in her previous relationship.
However, her smile faded when she swiped down and was met with an avalanche of comments. Thousands of cruel words and cutting criticisms flooded the massive list. Comments that questioned who she thought she was, insinuations that she wasn't good enough, and that Matt deserved someone better. Every word was a blow to her heart, a confirmation of all the fears and insecurities she had kept hidden inside.
Feeling crushed by the virtual pressure, a wave of anguish enveloped her. Tears began to blur her vision as she struggled to contain her overflowing emotions, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the situation, much less worry Matt.
Her head filled with questions, how could she compete with the unrealistic expectations of those who observed her life through a screen?
Minutes passed in a second for her, the sound of the door opening again echoed softly, Matt's figure entering the room following it, the tempting smell of popcorn floating in the air and a childish smile decorating his face. His smile fell instantly when he saw Y/N holding the phone tightly with one of her hands, tears rolling down her face while her other hand pressed her mouth, forcing away the sobs.
"Hey, hey, babe, what happened?" Matt ran over to her, his tone full of worry, leaving the bucket of popcorn on the bedside table and kneeling next to her on the bed.
Y/N sobs as she tries to explain, showing him the cruel comments that filled her entire screen, the device shaking slightly as a result of her trembling fingers.
Matt felt his heart break when he saw the suffering on Y/N's face and the ridiculous words in front of him. Him mind was divided between helping her or posting something obscene, full of insults, and totally guided from his emotional side.
The boy sighs, closing his eyes and wishing to take the bad things away from his girl before sitting properly next to her, wrapping her in his arms affectionately and bringing her head to his chest, sealing her hair line for long seconds.
"I'm so sorry, petal. I didn't know this was going to happen. I should have thought before posting..." He murmured, gently stroking her back as Y/N clings to him for comfort. "I'll figure it out, I promise."
I been under scrutiny (yeah, oh, yeah)
You handle it beautifully (yeah, oh, yeah)
All this shit is new to me (yeah, oh, yeah)
With that, it was known that Y/N was constantly under the relentless eyes of the fandom and obsessed fanpages, her every move being dissected and analyzed minutely by the voracious eyes of anonymous people. But that was the price to pay for dating a public figure.
While facing this incessant storm of unsolicited attention, she couldn't help but admire how Matt, despite his issues with anxiety and certain unnecessary comments left by people who called themselves fans, handled the problems of notoriety with admirable patience and calm.
He seemed so comfortable on camera alongside his brothers, so skilled at ignoring invasive situations that Y/N often found herself questioning how he did it. However, for her, this was all unfamiliar and intimidating territory, too new.
Although she passionately wanted to quickly adapt to this new lifestyle, as she had no plans to leave Matt, she also found herself racing toward an uncertain direction, trying to keep her sanity and identity intact amid the media chaos that surrounded her.
The couch enveloped them in a comfortable embrace as Y/N and Matt enjoyed the peace of the silent living room, the soft sound of a Disney movie echoing in the background. Matt's arms around Y/N were a sanctuary of calm, warming her body and bringing her a comfort that made her feel like she could sleep any moment. It was one of those rare moments when they could simply exist t the interference of the fast-paced world around them.
Matt, with a sigh of contentment, reached for his phone, curious to see how the car video they had posted a few minutes ago was doing, eager to see what the fans thought of the themes brought up.
Quickly, he opened the YouTube app and scrolled through the comments. Among a flood of compliments and kind words, however, some less favorable comments caught his attention. Some criticized the way he was quieter than usual, while others questioned why he was even part of the videos, as he had nothing to add.
Matt rolled his eyes in a dismissive gesture as he turned the screen of his phone towards Y/N, allowing her to read the comments that filled the space.
"Look at that." Matt said, exasperated. "These people have nothing better to do than criticize anything and everything. Immature teenagers who love to point out only negative things." He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Locking the screen of his phone with a brusque gesture, he left it aside on the couch, refusing to let the negative comments ruin his moment of peace. The boy turned to Y/N again, his smile returning as if nothing had happened and wrapping his arms around her once more.
"Sorry about that, pretty girl." The brunette asked softly against her skin, burying his face in the curve of her shoulder. "Sometimes people just need to spread negativity to feel better about themselves. But let's not let that get to us, hm?" He lifted his head from where it was, smiling small at his girl before pressing small seals on the exposed skin of her shoulders and neck, eliciting loud laughter from the girl.
[...] All they keep asking me (all they keep asking me)
Is if I'm gonna be your bride
The only kind of girl they see (the only kind of girl they see)
Is a one-night or a wife
Post after post from the significant number of fans who adored them together claimed that they were "endgame", as they had been in a relationship for over a year and seemed to be going strong.
But the comments that followed were always like a punch to the gut for Y/N. Some argued that she was Matt's future bride, while others insinuated that she was just a "gold digger", there to take advantage of his fame and money, like a one night stand, before eventually leaving him.
Y/N's feelings fluctuated between anger and sadness. How dare they question her true feelings for Matt? How could they judge their relationship based on unfounded assumptions and speculation? They were only 20 years old, marriage was out of the question at that moment, and they both knew that this kind of thing is something planned and thought out together, never done for the emotion of the moment or to meet the needs of others.
A feeling of helplessness invaded her when she read those things, accompanied by a hint of doubt. Y/N felt deep pain due to the lack of trust and support from Matt's own fans. She had tried so hard to be a positive presence in his life, to love and support him unconditionally, and to make the people who meant the most to him and who brought him to the top really like her.
And now, she was faced with the cruelty of strangers who were ready to judge her without even truly knowing her.
I find it dizzying (yeah, oh, yeah)
They're bringing up my history (yeah, oh, yeah)
But you weren't even listening (yeah, oh, yeah)
Y/N felt constantly dizzy with everything that was happening around her. It was as if she was in the eye of a media hurricane, where waves of curiosity and intrusion were endlessly engulfing her. Even with her social networks private, she found herself inundated by a flood of fanatical fans, eager to discover even the smallest detail of her life.
The triplets' YouTube videos, in which she participated, were constant targets of investigation by fans. Every word, every gesture captured by the camera, was analyzed. And the boys' posts, where she occasionally appeared, were scoured thoroughly for any hint of her personal life.
The simple act of even appearing on a TikTok for a brief second was enough to trigger a new wave of speculation and conspiracy theories from fans. Y/N felt like she was looking over her shoulder every moment.
This growing fear began to affect her willingness to participate in the brothers' videos and appear on their social media. She retreated into the shadows, avoiding the curious eyes that surrounded her.
Meanwhile, Matt scrolled through his social media feed, the cruel and mean comments about Y/N flashed on his phone screen at every moment. "She only wants to hurt him", "She's only with him for the money", "She will run away at the first opportunity". The words penetrated like sharp knives, but he faced them with a calm expression.
He could feel the anger pulsing through his veins. The injustice of these accusations made him want to scream. But he forced himself to remain calm, to take a deep breath and remember what really mattered.
Matt knew Y/N better than he knew himself. He knew she wasn't a gold digger, that she wasn't with him out of interest or for any petty reason. He knew that she genuinely loved him, that they shared the same dreams and fears, joys, and sadness.
So he ignored the negative comments, the people who hid behind anonymous profiles to spread venom and hate. Sometimes, he even had the small pleasure of responding to these accusations with an ironic comment or a joke, knowing that, deep down, none of it mattered.
Because he trusted Y/N. He loved her more than anything in the world, and nothing could shake that unshakable trust he had in her.
[...] Talk your talk and go viral (oh, oh, oh)
I just need this love spiral (oh, oh, oh)
Get it off your chest (woah, woah, woah, woah)
Get it off my desk (get it off my desk)
Talk your talk and go viral (oh, oh, oh)
I just need this love spiral (oh, oh, oh)
Get it off your chest
Get it off my desk
But on the other side, the moments of exhaustion seemed to multiply for Y/N, like a lingering shadow that followed her with every step. Increasingly, she found herself sinking into a sea of cruel comments and venomous speculation from the media and fans.
Until a specific moment, where she finally understood that with Matt, she found the strength to fight it gradually. His arms wrapped around her with comforting warmth. His words of encouragement were like a balm to her soul. He supported her in every way possible, constantly reminding her of how much she was loved and valued and that nothing they said mattered.
Y/N slowly learned to filter the noise of the outside world, to block out the negative voices that tried to invade her mind. She no longer allowed the mean comments to get to her, choosing to ignore, block or mute them, allowing them to get everything they wanted off their chest and go viral using her name, and not giving a damn about it.
It was a gradual process, a journey of self-discovery and self-transformation. Y/N still had her moments of weakness, her doubts and fears, like in that moment. But with Matt by her side, she was able to cover her ears and eyes to them.
I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me
Surreal
I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say
No deal
The 1950s shit they want from me
I just wanna stay in that lavender haze
And despite all the bad things, being alone at that moment with Matt in their own haven was comforting. A lavender haze enveloped Y/N gently, like a warm lilac hug amidst the darkness of uncertainty, protecting her from external judgments.
In the comfort of their room, with Matt's presence beside her, she felt as if she could close her eyes and simply let herself be carried away by the constant flow of love she felt for the boy.
Despite the whirlwind of thoughts that danced in her mind along with vague memories of all the futile posts from pages that gossip about artists, demanding surreal things from her as if they had just come out of a time machine to the past, there, in that moment, she allowed herself to sink into the depths of this good feeling.
Matt's presence by her side was like a protective shield, pushing away all her fears and insecurities. His eyes, full of tenderness and understanding, met hers from time to time, conveying a silent message that he was there, ready to face any challenge alongside her. And there was nothing in the world that made him want to leave there.
With one smooth movement, Matt turned briefly to reach for the lavender air freshener that rested on the nightstand next to the bed. He activates the device with a delicate touch, releasing a fragrant mist that fills the room with the sweet scent of the flower. The soft, comforting scent envelops Y/N like a hug, calming her agitated mind and bringing an almost instantaneous feeling of serenity.
The mattress moved with Matt's movements, and he slowly turned around, now lying on his side and facing Y/N. His eyes met hers lovingly, and a smile played on his lips as he moved closer until their bodies were mere inches away.
"You still with me, sweetheart?" His voice was as soft as the cotton beneath their bodies, echoing off the walls that were surrounded by silence for long minutes.
"Uhm." Y/N murmured back, imitating him and turning so that she was lying on her side, facing him, the fog in her mind slowly dissipating.
With soft and delicate movements, Matt wrapped the girl in his arms, bringing her closer to his body, laying her head on his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming hers almost automatically.
"They don't matter, you know?"
Y/N felt a comforting warmth spread throughout her entire being upon hearing the brief and almost insignificant words, but that meant the world to her. She snuggled even closer to Matt, feeling his arms tighten around her waist where they held, allowing herself to sink into them like a safe haven from the storms of the outside world.
Matt lowered his head and gently kissed the top of his girl's head, breathing in the soft scent of lavender shampoo that emanated from her strands. Every touch was filled with love and devotion, a silent promise that he was there.
And so, cradled by the soft haze of love that surrounded them, Y/N and Matt surrendered to the present moment, the girl leaving behind all the worries and fears that haunted her, her heart begging to stay there forever.
I just wanna stay in that lavender haze
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
I don't know if I liked it very much, so I'm sorry if it sucked badly 😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻
~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia @maryx2xx @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @iammattswife
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#x reader#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#fic#imagine#oneshot#fluff#angst#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt x reader#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt au#matt fanfic#matty#matt#matt sturniolo x yn#matt sturniolo x reader fluff#comfort#Spotify
478 notes
·
View notes
Note
DAMN, YOU WRITE SO GORGEOUS!! I'M GLAD, DUDE. ahem. I have this idea: Toji married a very young girl (she is 20 or 21 years old. Toji is 39 years old) Megumi is 18 years old. and Megumi sees her young stepmother and falls in love with her. and he, while Toji is not at home, will fuck her while she sleeps soundly. (maybe Toji will find out about this)😈🤝🫦
Omg anon I’m sorry I just saw this.
TW: somnophilia, noncon
Megumi is aged up, AFAB reader
Not proofread, WIP (maybe)
After graduating from Jujutsu High, Megumi finds it difficult to adjust to dating in adulthood. All of his friends seem to have found someone special, leaving Megumi to often find himself alone. Although he has been attracted to someone before, the problem is that the person he desires is already taken. Not only that, but this person has recently married his father.
His father has brought home many women over the years of varying ages and bodies with one thing in common; they were always somewhat loaded with cash. Most women quickly fell for his father’s looks and great figure but would eventually leave due to his gambling and poor money management…
You were different from others. You showed patience with his father and always tried to find a way to balance his gambling habits without draining your pockets. You even offered pocket money to Megumi and Tsumiki when they went out. Whenever you left, you would come back with a gift or a snack for Megumi, letting him know that you constantly think about him and dropping hints of possible romantic interest.
I mean, what was even the age gap between you two? What two maybe three years? You were closer to megumi in age than you were Toji, and these days you’re home alone more with Megumi more than anyone else.
Was it because you had feelings for him? Was there something more to the bun you gave him or the juice the two of you shared? Were you truly thirsty or did you just want to give him an indirect kiss.
You drove Megumi wild and all you did was exist. He wondered what it was about you that convinced his dad to bring you home. It has to be your patient forgiving nature.
Megumi knows you know he likes you. He knows you’ve caught him ogling your body when wearing something low cut. He knows you feel him press his groin against your lower back when he needs to “get by” you. He sees your body stiffen and your mind freeze every time. He doesn’t know if you’ve even noticed this but you never brought up the fact that you’d wake up with cum on your hand from when he’d use it to jerk himself off. You’ve even forgiven him for walking in on you while we’re in the shower.
So he’s sure you’ll forgive him for what he’s about to do now as he towers over your unconscious resting body. His father wouldn’t be back a few days and you had gotten careless leaving your bedroom door unlocked maybe even on purpose.
You lay blissfully unaware of your exposures legs and ass as your nightgown has ridden up. The way the moonlight flashed through the window on your body seemed almost as if it was calling megumi and telling him to take you there and now.
Megumi drags his hand between your legs up to your inner thigh. He takes his hand lifting your dress up to completely expose your ass all the way before gripping on of your cheek harshly to spread it. He spread your cheeks until he could see your anus start to gape and your pussy lips part. He stares in awe, everything about you truly is beautiful.
He’s dreamed of this pussy for so long, night after night as he wrapped a pair of your dirty panties around his length and jerked himself off until they were soaked in his cum. He strokes his dick thinking of what it would be like to be inside of you. To pin you down and fuck you, to breed you.
He tries to gently flip your body over onto its back, he gets a better view of your face that’s glows under the moonlight peaking through the window blinds. His eyes roam over the curves of your body. Your perky nipples are peeking through your night gown top, moving ever so slightly with every exhale.
He lines the head of his cock with your entrance, slowly pushing it in, just as the head pops through your first ring he stares at your face and watches as your brows furrow but you still remain asleep.just with him putting his tip in has him ready to cum and he doesn’t know if he’ll last much longer so he pulls himself althe way out and slams his full length inside of you. He bites his lip to hold back his own moans and watches your pained face, your eyes try to open and your body tries to wake up but your sleeping pills get the better and you fall back to sleep.
He starts to pump into you a bit faster, with shaky breaths and weak arms buckling. The sound of his balls slapping your ass echoes throughout the room complimented by the squelching of your pussy. Every time he'd pull out he'd leave just the tip of his dick in before slamming his whole length inside you, watching your body shake and breast bounce with each thrust. he knows he should pull out but every time he tries to convince himself not to cum he finds himself inching so much closer to his climax, it’s not until he sees your legs start to shake and your walls grip his length does he shove himself deep inside you and fuck into you all his cum.
He pulls himself out fighting to catch his Breath, he watches his cum spill back out of your tired used pussy and can’t help but feel himself get hard again. Maybe he’ll be kind and give your pussy time to recover and break your cute little asshole in for this round.
#tw.noncon#tw.somnophilia#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi smut#megumi x reader#megumi x y/n#dead dove december#tw stepcest#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw noncon#megumi x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Behind the Scenes (03/05)
Behind the Negotiation
pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader
summary: knowing that you can't run away from your past forever, you receive unexpected visitors in your home that make you fear for your son's future.
word counter: 8.9k
previous part • next part • series masterlist
warnings: angst, arguments, language,mention of abortion.
guys, I'm sorry for the delay, with this chapter a lot of unexpected things came across my way, but I've finally finished it and I'm satisfied with the result, although I'm not sure if you will like it, it might bore you but I don't know, please let me know :)
without more to say, enjoy it and thanks for all the support, really! let me know your comments too, I'll be waiting for them!
You still remember it all too well.
You remember how you accepted Aemond's terms, the terms of his agent Criston and also of his entire team.
You agreed to keep the existence of your child a secret, to hide in the shadows with him and to keep a low profile until it was "safe" for Aemond's career to publicly and legally acknowledge the baby.
But you only accepted to take that worry off everyone's mind and especially his, so you could run away. Although the reality is that you were scared.
At first, Aemond's power, influence and connections kept you paralyzed, thinking about the consequences of breaking all ties with him.
And running away from him, disappearing from his life along with your son was a decision you had to make carefully and then had to live with in fear and dread of being found someday.
And the fear of possible legal reprisals for your escape and uncertainty about the consequences were present at every turn. But you did everything to live in freedom, not to destroy Aemond's career and to protect your son from all public exposure.
You always knew that Aemond with his celebrity status possesses power, not only in the entertainment industry, but also in the media and social sphere, that was obvious, just like any other celebrity.
So finding you could be as easy as snapping his fingers.
So to prevent Aemond from tracking your movements so he could find you, you began by discarding any means of transportation that could be easily monitored or tracked.
You avoided airports and bus terminals, opting instead for small train stations and local buses, always paying with cash. You left King's Landing and the entire state, going all the way to the Iron Islands.
In Pike, with the money you had left over, you were able to rent a room to yourself in a cheap hotel, then quickly began to look around for a job in the surrounding area in search of an opportunity that could provide you with support and stability.
You knew you couldn't get a job like the one you had before, on a recording set with a big salary. So downtown, you found a job at a beauty salon.
Not only does she own a beauty salon, she also owns a few small apartments in the city and offered you one of them at a lower price, considering you were just starting out with a new job.
The owner of the place, Becca Waters, a kind and understanding woman, saw potential and also the need in you.
Knowing your condition and that you practically came to live in a place where you knew nothing and no one, she also offered you a place to live and be safe.
Mrs. Waters became a fundamental support for you, providing guidance, encouragement, flexibility and stability in your financial need and also in your pregnancy.
With her you felt completely safe and supported at a time when you needed it most. After all you had gone through to get here, leaving your life behind and pregnant, she was your reward.
But still nothing was easy after that.
Your pregnancy process was a roller coaster of emotions, challenges and moments. Facing motherhood as a single mom was an overwhelming reality.
On the one hand, even though the baby was unplanned, you were excited to know that you would soon be holding him in your arms, but on the other hand, you also felt fear and anxiety at the responsibility of raising a child alone with no knowledge of anything really.
The first few months of pregnancy were especially difficult.
You experienced pain, symptoms and discomforts that you had no idea about and had to endure, as well as a slight state of depression and anxiety about dealing with all of this on your own.
But through it all, Becca was your pillar of support at all times, who became your confidant, giving you comfort and encouragement in difficult times. And she was the one who helped you throughout your pregnancy and also the one who was by your side when you gave birth to your child.
And even though you didn't want to, being in a very vulnerable state, you couldn't help but feel lonely and miss Aemond, just as you missed everything you once used to be.
But remembering everything that happened the last time you saw him, even though the feeling disappeared, you also couldn't help but start crying.
And to protect yourself emotionally, you decided to stay away from news about Aemond.
You avoided social media and any content that could remind you of your past with him. Your determination was great to be able to raise your child alone, without relying on Aemond's presence or acknowledgement.
And the day your son finally came into the world, it was a moment of joy and wonder that could not be compared to any other moment in life, filling your heart with indescribable happiness.
However, the birth also brought with it a torrent of new worries and challenges.
Childbirth was exhausting and intense. Nothing you've ever experienced before. And in the days that followed, the constant care of the newborn, the lack of sleep and the adjustment to your new life were heavy challenges that pushed you to the limit many times.
But in spite of that, every smile, every little gesture of your son filled your world with immense love, as well as Mrs. James' help in guiding you in practical aspects of motherhood increased your unwavering determination to go forward for him, being your driving force.
Although also the arrival of your son into the world increased your fear in you.
The fear that Aemond and his team might find you and take your son away from you was a constant worry. But despite this, there were moments of uncertainty when you thought too much about it.
You wondered why Aemond would bother looking for you and your child. Clearly the baby was a risk to his career and he didn't even want to support you from the start, only accepting it later because that was your decision.
You knew he wouldn't but you were still afraid.
Would Aemond really seek you out after he initially supported the idea of abortion?
Would he really seek you out after he supported your decision even if he didn't want to but in the shadows, avoiding any public acknowledgement and hiding you and your son?
But just when you had gotten used to it, had found stability with a job and a permanent refuge in the beauty salon with Mrs. Waters, a few months after the birth of your son, Mrs. Waters was forced to close the salon due to unforeseen financial problems.
That place that had been your refuge and where you found support and friendship, suddenly disappeared, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness, uncertainty and nostalgia.
Mrs. Waters would have to leave town and although you didn't want to, you also decided to do the same, convinced that you would be safer with your son in a place you knew well, avoiding at all times the places you used to go with Aemond and where you knew you could meet him.
So after looking for a job, with your resume and previous excellent references, in the city where the entire film industry resides, you got a job as a makeup artist in a different recording studio than the one you had worked in before.
There was no way you could meet Aemond, or so you thought.
Previously the TV network was BBC, now it was HBO for whom you would be working on a new TV show, so you really had nothing to worry about, especially since the pay was very good and you could survive just fine on that for you and your child.
But right on your first day of work, life decided to surprise you.
And now you are here, in your new apartment where you were planning to live temporarily until you find a better one, but now with you running away on your first day it means definite dismissal for sure, so you have no idea how you are going to pay for a better one or how you are going to pay for this one next month so you won't get kicked to the street.
But you can't even think straight as you are still shaking, your emotions are running high, you have no idea what really happened, it was all very fast between talking and remembering the past.
And the only thing that gives you some peace in the midst of your own thoughts and everything you're feeling, are the sounds of Aenar's toys and babbling in the living room, playing on the floor and touching everything he can.
His silver hair shines from the sunlight coming through the windows and he giggles as his colorful toys bump into each other, showing a world of happiness and innocent curiosity, completely filling your heart but you still feel that sharp ache in your chest.
You move towards him with a soft sigh and take a seat next to him, keeping a small genuine smile on your lips but with some melancholy, when he starts showing you all his toys and asks you between babbling and giggles to play with him.
You move the toys back and forth, ask him questions in honeyed tones and he laughs, making you laugh too, but you continue with the tumult of your overwhelming thoughts.
You think about what you will do now, that you should probably look for a job at a new beauty salon, which is what you should have done as soon as you got back, find a subtle job instead of going back to what you were doing before so suddenly.
However the paycheck was what made you take it and you need it too much, so you'll have to look for other alternatives.
You find yourself thinking about it when you suddenly hear the sound of the door completely interrupting your thoughts and also your game with Aenar.
You look towards the entrance, confused, with a strange feeling growing in your chest, immediately giving you a bad feeling. For who would come knocking at your door?
No one knows you're back… except Aemond.
Oh Gods.
The thought makes you paralyzed, feeling your whole body tense up, your heart starts beating fast and fear invades you completely.
Could it be him?
You wonder, struggling to stay calm, even though there's no way he could have figured out so quickly where you're living.
Or has he?
The thought leaves you completely paralyzed, with a mixture of anxiety and fear flowing inside you.
The knocking on the door becomes more insistent and you carefully get up and leave Aenar still amused in his game on the floor, then walk towards the door feeling a lump in your throat and a growing uneasiness.
You reach for the doorknob and as you turn it to open, your heart skips a beat when you find Aemond's agent standing in front of you, Criston Cole.
A trace of surprise and confusion flashes across your face, feeling your body tighten further and the fear linger.
How did he know where you were?
What is he doing here?
Criston returns you a serious but understanding look, beginning to feel the tension between the two of you, while you feel the fear invade you again because of the old memories and being him one of the main reasons why you decided to run away.
His mere presence triggers a series of emotions that take you by surprise. With no trace of Aemond or anyone else around you, yet your mind races.
Nervousness invades every fiber of your being, while your heart beats faster and stronger than usual. A sense of discomfort invades you and you also feel alert, afraid, unable to control it.
"Y/N."
He pronounces your name with a slight nod. His tone tries to be reassuring, but confusion and bewilderment wash over you.
You say nothing for a few seconds, feeling unable to speak and unable to formulate any words, barely trying at that moment to process the situation. Anxiety creeps through your chest, as he gives you and respects your space, aware of your unease.
"I understand that you're surprised by my visit and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I really don't. But we need to talk."
The confusion inside you increases and so does the fear, to watch him completely bewildered and on the verge of collapse.
"H-how—
You try to ask with your voice cracking in the midst of all your emotions, but he interrupts you in response, knowing what you're going to ask.
"My team," he lets you know, "They handled finding you."
He tells you seriously and with that touch of professionalism in his tone, but his response only surprises and puzzles you more, to which Criston notices.
You feel the questions pile up in your head, but you barely manage to articulate a word, besides all the emotions you're feeling, fear mainly.
"Aemond informed us of your return," he adds, "After he didn't find you again, he asked us to look for you," he tells you calmly, trying to make his eyes convey an attempt at empathy for you.
But you don't believe that one bit. Not after what happened the last time you saw him and his entire team.
You feel a surge of vulnerability wash over you, leaving you suddenly helpless before him. You don't have the slightest idea how you will be able to cope with that situation, how to get away from them again now that they have found you, especially him.
"What have you really come for?" you question, not hiding your distrust.
Criston keeps a serene attitude and look, seeking to soften the tension, but notices your demeanor and posture, of fear and alertness altogether.
"Just to talk," he tells you softly, "Believe me the last thing I want and Aemond too is to cause you trouble. We just want to talk and nothing more," he explains, but you are having none of it, "He was going to come himself, but he had to film some scenes. But he'll come as soon as he can."
This just adds more weight to the anxiety and nervousness you're already feeling, so it triggers an alert in you that makes you feel completely freaked out, definitely not wanting that.
"No," you try to retort with a firm tone, but your vulnerability shows in your trembling voice and nervous expression, "Please leave."
Concern flashes across Criston's face for an instant, unconsciously taking a step towards you.
"Y/N–
"Please," you plead, "Just go away and don't come back, none of you, not even him."
"Y/N, please, just let me—
"No," you interrupt him again, more desperate than before, "Please," you repeat.
The atmosphere is filled with a silence full of tension, where your words, full of desperation and longing to get away from the situation, float in the air, also asking for urgent distance and tranquility.
And Criston lets out a sigh.
"Just a few minutes," he says, struggling to find some control in the situation, "Just-let us talk to you, Aemond and me."
"If it's to talk about his career and his son, I'm not interested," you say firmly, but your trembling voice gives away your emotions, "We've talked about that before," you say with some bitterness and sadness in your tone, "You can go now. I don't plan on staying anyway."
Without having let go of the door frame, you try to close the door, ending all of this, but he instantly speaks again, stopping you.
"Please Y/N, Aemond is very worried and wishes to speak with you," he insists, "He hasn't been the same since you left, you should know that," he adds in a persuasive tone.
You let out a snort in disbelief and with some bitterness, as you look away from his gaze for a moment.
"I highly doubt that."
"Y/N—
The sound of Aenar's innocent laughter while playing with his toys catches Criston's attention, stopping his words, who unconsciously catches a glimpse inside your living room where Aenar is playing and also catches a glimpse of his small figure on the floor with his characteristic silver hair.
This immediately triggers your concern and increases your protective mode and you quickly close the door a little behind you, blocking his view, while your heart is pounding.
This is what you meant.
You don't want anything bad to happen to your son, in any way. And you will do anything to protect him, because they decided everything except to protect you and now you will not allow them to intervene in your son's life now that they know he is here.
"Y/N," he calls to you in a softer voice, watching you completely intently and desperately asking you with his gaze for a moment.
"Please don't," you plead with him, at the point of collapsing from worry and frustration.
Again you enter the apartment as you hold the door frame tightly to close it, but Criston stops you again.
"You must understand the gravity of what happened," he tells you seriously, "Your disappearance put Aemond's relationship with his son in danger. There are legal implications for you to consider, such as custody," he says and your heart flips, "I can explain all of this to you and resolve it in the best way possible," he looks at you in insistence, "But only if you let me in so we can talk."
And there they are again. Your greatest fears.
The word 'custody' repeats over and over in your mind, like a loop, causing you greater fear, worry and pressure than before, the gravity of the situation and the looming legal implications being clear.
The air weighs on you, heavy with uncertainty and intense tension, as well as you are overcome with the urge to cry because of your doubts and fear.
"Wh-what-" you try to speak in a whisper, your voice cracking and your heart in a fist, "Custody?" you repeat under your breath.
Criston watches you with some pity and understanding, then lowers his gaze, lets out a sigh and watches you with that sympathy and also a little expectant.
"May I come in?"
Try one more time and maybe it's because of his words that your mind is in a state of alarm that makes you recognize that you can't run away again or else things will get worse. And you don't want that. You are afraid for yourself and Aenar.
Feeling more of your anxiety, you finally allow him to enter and Criston at this thanks you with his gaze and moves carefully, noticing your visible discomfort and also your fear, not wanting to alter you any further with absolutely nothing.
And once the door closes, you immediately stand in front of Aenar with a weak and vulnerable posture trying to look strong, this catching his attention and feeling something warm in his chest at the presence of the little one.
But he also knows exactly why you react this way and he doesn't blame you for it, much less does it bother him because he understands you.
"I'm very honest when I tell you that we really don't want to create more trouble, Y/N," he tells you in a soft tone, "Aemond…. he really is very worried. And since he is my client, we don't want any legal implications or further conflict."
You try to keep your composure, but your thoughts are a storm of confused emotions. The very idea of dealing with legal issues, especially regarding your son, is overwhelming to you.
"Why now?" you ask in a trembling voice, your gaze searching for answers, "All this… why?"
Criston exhales slowly, trying to find the right words.
"The situation has changed, basically since you left. Aemond was wrong at the time and I admit I was too, so now he's willing to acknowledge your son, in every way possible."
You can't help but look incredulous and bitter once again.
"It's already too late for that, don't you think?" you ask him in a bitter tone.
Criston looks down for a moment, his expression one of compassion and understanding towards your perspective.
"Yes, we know," he nods to you, "And that's why we're here, trying to keep all this from becoming a bigger problem. But please Y/N, understand that Aemond doesn't want to hurt you or cause you any more trouble than he's already caused."
"And until now you say that?" you inquire sad, worried, fearful and indignant, "That's what I needed to hear before when I was scared, because I was scared too Criston, not just Aemond," you let him know, with tears in the corners of your eyes, "But you treated me like a problem you needed to get rid of, you and him."
Criston listens to your words with a gesture in his eyes that reflects the heaviness of the situation, just as you see shame and regret wash over him, suddenly seeing him as the vulnerable one and you as the strong one compared to years ago, the roles reversing for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Y/N. We didn't mean to make you feel that way," he says in a regret-laden tone.
"Sorry doesn't change anything," you say, fighting back tears.
You watch him with your hard stare and sad eyes, feeling several tears fall down your cheeks, making you remember once again.
And once again without letting it drown you, you force yourself to push those memories away, all your moments of uncertainty, fear and pain, to brush your tears away from your cheeks with a strong look of determination.
"I will accept any legal consequences if there are any," you say suddenly, trying to keep your composure, "If there are legal actions, I'm willing to face them. But for now, I just want to be left alone, please."
"Y/N," Criston calls you cautiously, "I just want you to understand that we want to do the right thing now. And what we want to do is find a solution that works for you and for Aemond regarding him," he points to Aenar with his gaze behind you, "Something that guarantees your privacy while not damaging his public image."
Then all the effect of his words completely disappear on you.
You feel a surge of frustration, annoyance and despair at the realization that still the main concern remains Aemond's career.
"Do you still think about his career?" you ask with disappointment and resentment in your tone.
"Y/N—
"The most important thing here is my son," you stand strong, "But he seems to be only one aspect of Aemond's image, doesn't he?"
"Even after all this time that has passed, Aemond's career is more successful and even promising than before, that is something that neither you, him nor I should forget, let alone ignore," he tries to explain to you, "Aemond wants to fix things but his career must also be contemplated, please understand this Y/N."
"Then why do you say you want to do things the right way now if that is not true?" you inquire.
"Yes it is true," he clarifies, "But within all of this, his career must still be contemplated."
You shake your head in disbelief, unable to believe it.
"You say a lot of things Criston, but it's clear what matters most to you," you say with no emotion in your voice, "And sure, why shouldn't his career matter most to you? After all… you don't know what it's like to get pregnant, without support and go through the whole process by yourself, and then raise a child on your own, without the support of his father."
"I don't mean to—
"Please go away," you plead once more and this again alerts him.
"Y/N—
He tries to speak but the sound of the door echoes throughout the living room, drawing your full attention and Criston's as well.
The atmosphere again becomes heavier than before, as well as all your confidence disappears, already knowing who it is and you are confirmed by the fact that the person behind the door knocks more insistently, sounding desperate.
With your fearful gaze and your whole body tense, you quickly move towards Aenar, who is still playing completely oblivious to everything that is happening on the floor and you take him in your arms with haste but also care.
You hold him tightly against your body, as a way to protect him from everything outside and also from all people especially while trying to contain all your emotions.
And Criston, who also knows who it is, rushes to the door to open it.
And there on the doorway, the figure of Aemond comes into view, with all the desperation and longing in his gaze, the worry and anguish too, as you muster the courage to be able to look him in the eye again, holding Aenar a little more firmly against your chest.
But your son's body is visible to the eye and that's what makes Aemond completely paralyzed at the sight of you with his son in your arms.
Surprise is completely reflected in his whole look, immediately followed by a bunch of emotions that start to pile up in his whole being and want to come out, as he feels his whole body tense up and a feeling in his stomach invades him.
This leaves him and you in a state of momentary restlessness, where time seems to stand still and the silence is too loud. You, with your gaze fixed on him, try to keep your composure with a mixture of fear, insecurity and some determination to protect your son at all costs.
It didn't take long for Aemond's surprise to turn into a moment of awe and a surge of overwhelming emotions. The mere sight of you with his child in your arms triggers disbelief, pent-up longing and a feeling of suppressed joy.
"Y/N," Aemond calls your name in a whisper, his tone laden with surprise and visible regret, where his gaze can't tear away from you and Aenar.
You say nothing, just watch him back without saying anything, with all your emotions reflecting in your eyes.
The moment is just the three of you, so Criston turns away completely, not interfering and saying absolutely nothing, while you continue in your protective mode and Aemond is still processing this whole moment.
With excitement clashing against the surprise in his eyes, he tries to process the reality of having his son before him for the first time.
He searches for the right words to speak, but his stuck mind won't let him, nor will the lump in his throat and stomach as he continues to watch the scene in front of him; you with his son in your arms.
He tries to say something, but his lips barely half open and the words won't come out, feeling his heart beating too fast and hard.
And you with your gaze full of expectation, fear and caution, Aemond finally looks at you again, aware of all the emotional charge you feel, just like him, as well as your fear and distrust after everything that happened.
"C-can… can I come closer?"
He finally asks cautiously, his voice with a tone of longing and nervousness barely contained.
You hesitate at that moment.
Feeling the weight of the situation and the emotions that are triggered at that moment, despite everything, you feel very vulnerable and you also feel his vulnerability, also that longing to touch Aenar and hold him.
And despite the way he acted with you almost two years ago and also the way Criston and all his team treated you, you don't feel able to be as cruel as they were with you back then.
You don't want to be like them and also aware that this day would come sooner or later, you watch Aenar for a moment, leave a soft kiss on his forehead and again watch Aemond, then nod in his direction with a barely perceptible gesture.
You allow Aemond your closeness and he with extreme care begins to approach you slowly, as if fearing that a sudden movement could fade the magical and longing moment.
Aemond's heartbeat echoes in your ears as he finally stands in front of your son.
Aenar, completely oblivious to everything, senses the nearness of someone else and raises his curious gaze to Aemond, watching him with those bright blue eyes.
And upon seeing that man with the same hair color as his own, his eyes light up with a gleam of curiosity, lightly waving his arms and also his body.
With his teary eye, he watches you for a moment, to again focus on Aenar and with a mixture of excitement and awe, he extends one of his trembling hands towards his small, delicate face.
And when the touch of his fingers against his soft skin of his cheek makes itself felt, Aemond feels an unfamiliar sensation invade him completely.
A sad but honest smile full of melancholy appears on his lips as he gently and carefully traces his face, running his hand up to his silver hair, gazing intently into those blue eyes just like his own as Aenar watches him with that playful innocence but also just as curious as his own.
You, unsure of exactly what to feel or think, watch as he carefully reaches out both arms and begins to hold his body, feeling the warmth and weight of his small body now resting in his arms.
That unfamiliar, overwhelming feeling from before comes over him even more strongly as he holds his son for the first time, when Aenar lifts one of his hands and touches his left cheek, where his scar is.
The emotion makes his breath hitch as he struggles to hold back the tears of restrained happiness that will come at any moment.
It was a moment he had imagined countless times, but had never believed possible until this instant.
Aenar, captivated by the newness and warmth in the arms of Aemond, his father, laughs innocently, his eyes dazzling a happiness as he notices the familiarity in that new face above him. And at his gesture, Aemond lets out a choked laugh, completely captivated by him.
And unable to contain himself any longer, the first sob escapes his throat and the tears fall, instantly pulling his son's face to his chest, embracing him with gentleness and that security that makes him feel so vulnerable when Aenar settles perfectly in his arms.
Guilt, sadness, joy, emotion, everything invades him in that moment.
And he lets out more tears for the comfort that Aenar gives him in his arms, that feeling of protection and even… love, that makes him feel even more vulnerable.
And you are still there, close to them but giving Aemond his space, watching everything attentively with your heart in a fist and feeling sensations you had not felt before at the scene, with tears also wanting to slide down your cheeks.
After a few more seconds, Aemond slurps his nose and looks over Aenar's small shoulder at you with all the vulnerability in his gaze.
"I-I know I don't deserve this," he says with his voice cracking, trying to control himself but he can't.
And he is about to say something else but you watching his expression, a mixture of regret and deep sadness, you step forward to speak.
"In spite of everything, he deserves to know his father," you murmur with your trembling voice and teary eyes, "Aenar deserves this," you assure him, accepting it as you watch the scene of the two of them.
Aemond nods, unable to articulate words, still feeling the lump in his throat, his face reflecting pain, regret and a sadness you have never seen in him before, as his tears continue to fall as he embraces his son.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, unable to contain the emotion, turning to him and to you. "I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know how to face it…how to be there."
Silence again settles throughout the apartment, only being filled by Aemond's soft crying, as you silently weep and continue to watch the two of them.
A few minutes have passed since Aemond and your son met for the first time.
Aenar laughs with delight as Aemond plays with him with one of his toys. They are both immersed in a little world of fun where it's just the two of them, surrounded by Legos blocks, small plastic cars and puppets.
You watch everything, or almost everything, without interfering and giving them both their space, watching your son enjoy a special moment that on another occasion, could have been a daily routine with a different life.
Criston doesn't say or do anything either, he at all times stands in the corner watching the whole interaction, letting Aemond have his moment with his son, genuinely feeling happy for him.
And even though the scene makes you feel warm in your heart, being a scene you longed for before, you still still feel insecure, afraid and overwhelmed by this whole situation.
This doesn't really change anything. You have only given Aemond the opportunity to meet his son because your son deserves it, nothing more.
Inside you are still just as scared and in expectation that at any moment this whole 'beautiful' moment will fade away. And that's exactly what happens when you hear Criston's voice all over the living room.
"I wouldn't want to ruin the moment, truly," he says seriously and honestly, "But it's important that we talk about all this so we can resolve it properly."
This immediately catches your attention and also Aemond's, with whom you exchange a quick glance, again feeling your whole body tremble and out of the same nervousness you are overcome with the impulse to take your son in your arms to feel safe.
"It is important that we talk about the child, about what you are going to do now," he turns to Aemond, "Custody is important and all that goes with it."
"I don't understand why you keep talking about custody," you look at him nervously and annoyed, "I alone have cared for and raised Aenar all this time."
"I know this is complicated and sudden, Y/N," Criston tells you, "But we need to approach this whole thing responsibly."
"Responsibility?" you repeat incredulously, "What responsibility are you exactly talking about?"
"Y/N," Aemond immediately interjects, "Listen to me, please," he gets up from the floor leaving Aenar playing alone and walks towards you, "It's not my intention to take our son away from you, truly. But we must make sure we have legal rights to be in his life," he explains to you, "You were the one who ran away, who disappeared without a word. I didn't know what happened to you."
You look at him uncomprehendingly, with your hurt and desperate gaze.
"You talk about custody and rights when in the beginning that was the last thing on your mind, Aemond," you observe him incredulously, "And you keep reproaching me for running away when you know perfectly well that I did it so I could live and so I wouldn't ruin your career, which was all you were thinking about."
Regret again invades Aemond's face, as the atmosphere becomes denser, full of mixed emotions where fear and anger resurfaces with everything else.
Any trace of calm and peace, has ceased to exist, only being perceived by Aenar, who continues oblivious and innocent to all this in his games.
"I-I…" Aemond tries to speak, "I'm sorry for everything, Y/N. But back then...
His sentence hangs in suspense, not knowing what else to say, trying to find the right words without wanting to generate more tension, but that's what he involuntarily does.
"Back then," you repeat, your emotions running high, "Back then you were too busy taking care of your public image, supporting the idea of an abortion without consulting me, then supporting the idea of hiding me and my child as if we were a problem, which in fact we were and as if it was my only option, leaving me with no alternatives," you express with frustration and pain marked in every word.
Regret remains in Aemond's facial expressions, looking visibly affected by your words, grief-stricken and with a regret throughout his body that affirms to him that you are absolutely right, each word being like a dagger straight to his heart.
"Y-you don't know how much I regret and blame myself for all of that, Y/N," he tells you with vulnerability in his tone, "And I know I don't deserve it, any of this, not even that you allowed me to meet him and that I'm now in the same place as him," he says with regret, "But I want to find a solution that works for both of us," he whispers sadly.
The room is again consumed by silence, except for the sound of Aenar's toy movements, which is what catches Aemond's attention for a moment to smile a little more melancholy.
The situation becomes increasingly complex as your emotions continue to run high between anger and sadness, with the memory of past times still latent, but also with the uncertainty of the future.
And Criston, trying to keep calm, intervenes again.
"I understand that you both have different perspectives on what happened. But now we need to think about the future, of your son," he says seriously, "It's not just about custody, it's about finding a way to strike a fair balance, but… thinking about your career too, Aemond."
You let out a disbelieving, ironic snort again, shaking your head.
"His career,'" you repeat with a bitter tone, your voice a mixture of sarcasm and disappointment.
Aemond, watching you sadly and remorsefully, speaks in a calm but regret-laden voice.
"I don't want you to look at this that way, Y/N—
"That's just the way I see it," you interrupt him, serious and sad, "This is exactly why I left. This is why when I saw you again, I decided to run away again," you say hurt, "Now that you've met him, you want to be in his life, but you still prefer to hide us. This kind of life is the one you wanted to give us at the beginning and now you still do too."
Your revelations Aemond had already heard, but at that moment, again that sharp pain in his chest becomes present, as well as guilt, remorse and regret at seeing your sad face with such honest words.
"All I want is to come to an agreement, Y/N, please—
"You're not going to hide us," you interrupt him firmly.
"Aemond," he calls him seriously.
"No, that's not my intention—
He insists desperately but Criston intervenes.
"Don't," Aemond interrupts him instantly, turning serious and with an annoyed expression towards him, "We can't hide the truth anymore, Criston. Things must change."
"Look, I understand that this is difficult for you," he begins in a serious and cautious tone, "But still, we must consider the consequences. There's a lot at stake here, your career," he reminds him, "You have numerous job offers. Your show on HBO is the most famous show on the platform and the most watched show on television so far. How do you think people are going to react when they find out about your son?"
The room sinks into another silence, as you watch him with your hard, sad face, frustration, annoyance and irritation inside you, watching as Criston continues to treat your son like he's a problem.
And it hurts you.
Because Aemond doesn't even say anything.
"We can find a way to handle all this without putting at risk everything you have achieved, Aemond. And if you get a share of the custody, your son will be under your protection without harming your image," he proposes with an insistent look, seeking his approval.
You look away again, completely incredulous and with helplessness all over you.
It's not Aemond, it's Criston.
It is he who continues to manipulate Aemond to prioritize his career over his son, so that everything revolves around public image and fame, diverting attention from the well-being of your son.
And what can you really do there?
He is his agent, the person who has positioned him where he is now, making him famous, relevant, telling him what roles to take in movies or TV shows that are going to ensure one more success to his career.
"If you listen to him…" you begin to say in his direction with a trembling but firm tone, "If you do what he tells you, I swear I won't care what I have to do, even go into debt to get a good lawyer," you warn, "I will fight for the custody of Aenar and when I get it, I assure you that you will never see him again, ever."
Your words slip from your lips with a determination that completely surprises Aemond, surprise and concern visible on his face, watching you hurt for a moment, his mind a complete mess.
But it is not he who speaks, but Criston who takes the floor once more.
"If that's what you want, Y/N… that's fine," he tells you seriously, his gaze cold and calculating. "But let me warn you, we're trying to come to an agreement—
"The two of you or you specifically?" you snap at him.
"That doesn't matter, Aemond is my client and my job is to secure and protect his career," he tells you seriously, "And if you'd rather take this to fighting for full custody of Aenar, then so be it," he nods at you, "But I assure you, you're going to end up losing."
"That's enough."
Finally, Aemond's voice rises from where he stands, aimed directly at Criston, with a serious, hard stare that reveals a newfound determination.
"We are talking about our son, an issue that concerns her and me, this has nothing to do with you," he declares, his tone firm and his posture defiant.
"Your career has to do with me," he clarifies to her also serious, "You must think about what you are going to sacrifice. Your future, your career, the opportunities that await you-
"I said that's enough," he spits back at her, serious and annoyed, watching him with a hard stare, taking Criston by surprise.
And before he can say anything else, there is another knock on the door, drawing your full attention and making you feel completely alert, especially when Criston is the one who again goes to open the door, as if he knows exactly who it is.
And as you open the door, just like that day, Aemond's publicist, an assistant and the PR people enter your apartment.
Surprise flashes all over your face, watching with your eyes wide open the unexpected arrival of that group of people, whose intentions are not good.
"Thank you for coming," Criston tells them as he closes the door behind him.
"Of course."
Their eyes flick to you for a moment and then focus on Aenar, watching them back with curiosity in their gaze, while you feel confusion and fear completely take over you.
Despair, fear, your future, Aenar, everything mixes together in a horrible way that makes you want to vomit, letting out a couple of tears to quickly turn to your son and hold him in your arm, turning your back to them and starting to cry silently.
And Aemond, seeing your reaction, equally as surprised as you, quickly turns to Criston, his gaze full of confusion and annoyance.
"What is this? Why have you called them?" he inquires with his voice full of restrained anger.
And Criston, unabashed and uncaring of his actions, responds with a calm but calculated determination.
"We are not going before a jury to settle this, Aemond, it will be a waste of time and she will cause us more trouble," he says regardless, "This is necessary for your career, to address this whole issue strategically to protect your image, whether she likes it or not."
Aemond's expression transforms to one of frustration and helplessness.
But before he can intervene, his entire team begins to act.
"We need to establish an immediate plan, now," Criston says.
"Will the strategy be to minimize the impact on the media?" asks the publicity man.
"No, I want it hidden," Criston clarifies, "The approach must be careful and calculated. The priority is Aemond's reputation and career."
"I suggest we limit the exposure of Y/N and the child in public."
"We could create an alternative narrative to deflect attention by highlighting Aemond's professional accomplishments and minimizing the focus on his personal life."
"This must be handled with discretion. We cannot allow this situation to interfere with Aemond's career opportunities," Criston says firmly.
And so your entire living room fills with the sound of all those voices, each voice contributing ideas to control the situation, the problems, Aenar and you.
The tension intensifies, as everyone meticulously plans how to run the public narrative, completely ignoring Aemond's and your personal needs and concerns.
Tears slip down your cheeks silently as you hug Aenar tightly to your chest. This instantly catches the attention of Aemond, who steps worriedly towards you, placing his hand on your shoulder, positioning himself in front of you, but you abruptly pull away from him, watching him with an expression of pain and anguish amidst your tears and suffering face.
"Y/N—
"Why are you doing this? Why are you allowing this?" you ask in your broken, desperate voice.
"No, I swear to you I had no idea that he—
"I left, Aemond," you remind him with your voice cracking, "I left to save your career. And everything was fine, with you and me, our lives," you sob, "Why did you ask Criston to find me? Why do you care and insist on saying you want to be in our lives, when your career is still the most important thing?"
Pain and confusion echo in your words, lingering in the mind of Aemond, who in his gaze reflects a mixture of guilt, bewilderment, pain and sadness.
But everything hurts him more the moment you turn away from him, with a defeated gesture, turning your back to him and your whole body trembling in fear, Aenar in your arms being what gives you strength not to fall apart at that moment.
"We can prepare official statements to control the leaking information to minimize any negative impact on his public reputation."
"Rest assured that we need to maintain full control of this situation. We cannot allow any details to slip out," Aemond hears Criston's voice.
And that's when something snaps inside him.
Every repressed feeling bursts out in a whirlwind of emotions that were fighting to get out, your worry, the anger at himself and the guilt that invades him.
Everything explodes and ignites into a fury that he can no longer contain, seeing your state, causing him anger and feeling completely guilty.
Because everything is in fact his fault.
So without waiting a second longer, he walks to the center of the living room and with a hard, serious, completely annoyed look on his face and with his jaw clenched, he acts.
"Get out of here, all of you, now!" he exclaims, instantly drawing everyone's attention and yours as well.
For an instant everyone watches him and nothing else, slightly surprised and expectant, Criston too, unmoving and doing nothing, causing you a wave of despair.
"I said everyone out!" he exclaims in a firm voice and his gaze full of determination.
And it's only then that one by one the team finally leaves your apartment, except for Criston.
"What are you doing?" he inquires with a touch of disbelief in his tone, challenging Aemond.
"You get out of here too."
He orders him annoyed and with irritation, his voice charged with a frustration that has already reached its limit.
"Aemond, this is important, you can't just—
"I need to talk to Y/N alone," he interrupts her with his tone in a mixture of anger and determination, "I'm warning you, Criston. If you ever do anything else again without consulting me and interfering with this, I'm going to seriously consider firing you, which is what I should have done long ago," he shoots back at him with his defiant stare.
The pulse of the room beats with unbearable intensity as Aemond and Criston hold a duel of intense stares. However, in the face of Aemond's firmness, Criston finally resigns himself with a serious, annoyed look, full of frustration and resignation.
And finally he heads for the door, his footsteps sounding in the room as he leaves the apartment.
Aemond watches him leave with a mixture of relief and exhaustion, no longer feeling his shoulders tense. The silence expands once more as soon as the door closes and he turns to you with a gaze filled with a quiet, worried intensity.
The silence lingers for a few moments longer, a dense atmosphere charged with unspoken emotions. When he takes a step toward you, hesitantly.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice ringing with sincerity and regret, "What happened, my insistence… none of this was my intention, much less to cause you pain and hurt you," he admits with his vulnerability again reflected.
And even though it's just you and him in your apartment, your fear lingers.
"P-please don't take my son from me," you plead between sobs, your voice filled with anguish and fear.
Aemond's heart contracts in suffering and worry at your words, his gaze instantly reflecting it.
"What? No, no, Y/N… that is not what I want to do, it is not my intention to take our son from you."
He tells you instantly insistent but in a serene and sincere voice, taking a few more steps towards you, placing himself in front of you, trying to reassure you. But tears continue to slide down your cheeks.
"This is why I left, so I wouldn't cause you any more trouble, so I could live and keep our son safe," you repeat with your voice cracking.
"I know, Y/N, I know," he tells you sympathetically and with a soft tone, "And you don't know how much I hate myself for having been the cause of you deciding to leave, for having hurt you so much to the point of having made that decision," he says sincerely, his eye beginning to tear up, "And this is not just about him, about our son," he tries to explain, "Yes, it is important, but it is also about us," he speaks with a longing, "Since you left, I never stopped thinking about you, and I-I...
He hesitates, unable to fully express his feelings, as he stands in front of you and wants to hold you, you and your son, as he faces his deepest emotions, feeling a tear run down his cheek and looks at you with all the sincerity and pain in his gaze.
"I love you," he finally says, in a completely vulnerable whisper, trembling, lowering his gaze, unable to look you in the eye, "Despite everything, despite my mistakes, despite my work, despite everything that happened…. I-I still love you," he declares in a whisper laden with longing and regret, "And our son too."
His words get stuck in your mind.
With your heart clenched by the surge of emotions, your eyes watch him back with a mixture of surprise, pain and longing. Aemond's sincerity and vulnerability... it's all too much and makes you feel completely helpless, definitely not expecting that.
You can't speak, your words get stuck in your throat, your heart fluttering with the intensity of the moment, your surprise.
And Aemond completely understands your silence.
"I understand that you don't love me anymore and that you can't love me again, I also understand that things can't go back to the way they used to be because of my job. But please… don't keep running away," he pleads quietly, "We won't fight over custody, there will be no legal repercussions, I'm not going to do any of that," he assures you, "Just…" he lets out a long breath, "Just get back to work and let's face this together."
He proposes with his voice full of fragile but hopeful determination, unexpectedly causing you to feel a relief and a warm feeling in your chest.
"I just want Aenar to be okay and let's consider his well-being as the most important thing," you say quietly, while Aemond listens attentively with his face full of longing, regret and understanding, "But we need time and patience. Also that no one else interferes."
Aemond nods, with a slightly more relieved expression, but keeping in mind that there is much to resolve, to heal and to build.
"I understand that and… I'm willing to do whatever it takes… for him and for you," he says sincerely.
You nod too, as silence takes over again, but this time it is permeated with a shared understanding and a determination to face whatever is necessary for Aenar's well-being.
And finally after so much, you feel calm and fortunately, this time with the support of Aemond, who hesitantly leaves a gentle kiss on your forehead and another on Aenar's forehead, taking him back into his arms.
taglist:
@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys
next part taglist:
@anehkael
#aemond targaryen#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x oc#aemond x reader#hotd aemond#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen angst#modern aemond#ewan mitchell#ewan nation#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell fandom#ewan mitchell characters
731 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm holding every breath for you
steve harrington x nextdoor neighbour!reader {8.2k} based on the song i’d lie by taylor swift. friends-to-lovers. lots of pining, a bit of angst, steve being oblivious to reader’s feelings. reader uses she/her pronouns. no use of y/n. not proofread
You root through the glove compartment of Steve’s car, bent over at the waist to peer into the small space trying to find the lip balm you swore you left there the last time he gave you a ride.
“Why d’you have so much crap in here? How am I meant to find anything?” You pull out random scraps of paper, food wrappers and notes scribbled in a hurry that were barely legible.
“You wouldn’t have to look through it if you didn’t forget something every time you’re in here.”
You shoot him a glare, no malice really behind it because he was right, you did have a bad habit of constantly leaving your stuff in his car. Though to be fair, you were constantly leaving things behind in the places you’d been, it wasn’t exclusive to his car.
“S’not my fault, I just forget.” You’ve got a pile of rubbish on your lap now, the glove box empty enough for you to actually see its contents. When you finally see the plastic tube you’ve been searching for you let out a small ah!, inhaling quickly as you pull it out with a victorious smile on your face. “Got it.”
“Best put it somewhere safe, god forbid you have to root through my stuff again.” Steve’s eyebrows were raised, a sarcastic twang to his voice, but you know he’s not really mad. He was never mad, not at you anyway.
“I know, sorry, could have all sorts of secrets in here.”
You put all the rubbish you’ve accumulated back into the compartment, really you should keep hold of it to throw it all out. But the thought doesn’t cross your mind until you’re back home in your room.
“Think you know all of my secrets anyway, I’ll let it slide.”
You sit back in your seat, pulling down the sun visor to shield your eyes from the summer evening sun that was hanging low in the sky. You have your own car, and were perfectly capable of driving it, but Steve insisted on driving you around because your car was old and rickety and ‘should not be allowed on the road’. He was at least a little bit right, and you can't say you mind him picking you up from your shifts at the grocery store. His passenger seat had always felt a bit like home, even through high school and the girlfriends that would come and go, your presence up front was a constant.
You undo a few of the buttons on your work shirt, the sticky heat of the day clinging to the fabric and your skin. The air conditioning near the checkouts in work was temperamental at best, and today it had decided to pretty much pack in altogether. The first thing you’d done when you got into Steve’s car was crank the AC up to try and lower your body temperature from feverish to just plain old hot.
“You coming to the lake this weekend?” You pick at your chipped nail varnish, Steve finally able to actually start the drive home now you’ve dug through his mess successfully. It was a Hawkin’s summer tradition to spend at least one day down by the lake, drinking and smoking a bit too much and getting a little dizzy from a full day of sun exposure.
Steve hums, nodding in response as he pulls out of the parking lot. “You’ll never guess who asked me that at work today.”
“At work? Robin?” You look away from your nails, brows furrowed and nose scrunched with confusion.
“No, not Robin.” Steve chuckles, your response typical of your mind, always a little ditzy and in your own world. It was endearing in a way, your world view simple and honest and good. “Tammy Thompson.”
Your mouth opens to a small ‘O’, head nodding slowly. “You gonna go with her?”
“No, absolutely not. Couldn’t pay me to go with her.”
“She’s not so bad, in the grand scheme of Hawkin’s.”
“If my best option is Tammy Thompson, I think I’ll just stay single forever.”
You press your lips together, nodding again. You were overly familiar with Steve’s dating woes, both throughout school and now into adulthood. Maybe if you were bolder, with less to lose than your best friend, you’d just tell him to date you. Bite the bullet and take the leap and just give it a try. But you weren’t bold, you were safe and comfortable in the familiar and not ready to jeopardise that by confessing some big feelings that Steve was oblivious to.
“You just gonna hide from her the whole time then?”
“Maybe, use you as a human shield.” He grins at you, watching as you scrunch up your nose again. It was one of those mannerisms that you did all the time, whenever something confused you or if he teased you a little. It was a dead giveaway for your emotions, even if you were unaware of it.
“But you’re bigger than me, I don’t think I’d be very good at it.”
“Y’not even gonna try? I’d do it for you.” He pouts at you, you’re sure he’s doing his best puppy dog eyes behind his sunglasses too.
“Sure, I’ll try. But don’t blame me when she spots you, I can’t grow like 3 feet taller in a few days.”
“Don’t think you’d need to grow 3 feet, honey.”
“To do a proper job I would.”
Steve just nods, smiling to himself as he pulls into the street you’ve both grown up on. Carpooling was pretty easy when you only had to make one stop, though he’d take you to the other side of the world if you asked him to.
“You gonna need a lift to work tomorrow?” Steve parks up in his driveway, turning the ignition off and cutting off the AC you’ve been basking in, a small sigh coming from your lips as the cool air stops fanning on your skin.
“S’okay, I start at like 6am so I can drive.” You pick your backpack up out of the footwell, corduroy straps held tightly in your hand.
“You’re not driving that death trap when you’re half asleep, you know I don’t mind dropping you off.” Steve’s car keys dangle from his pointer finger, the collection of keyrings you’d gotten him over the years from every holiday you’d been on jingling against one another. “Just bang on my door if I don’t knock before you need to leave.”
“You’re silly for doing this, y’know that?”
“Only for you, sweetheart.”
Steve leans over to ruffle your hair, earning him a huff from you as you try to move your head away. You smooth out the mess as you climb out the passenger side, slinging your bag over one shoulder as you start to make your way over to your own house.
“You forgetting something?” Steve calls after you, and as you turn you see him holding out the same lip balm you’d left behind before.
“Oh, thanks Stevie.” You hurry back over to take the tube out of his hand, giving him a sweet smile before heading back home again.
—
You’re used to early mornings, pretty good at pushing past the grogginess after having to work so many opening shifts and be alert when the sun is still climbing in the sky, but being jostled about the back of Eddie’s van with the rest of your friends when you’re all still half asleep hurt your head a little bit.
It was the easiest option, meaning you could all make your way to the lake together and only have one designated driver, but you did miss seatbelts.
The heat was still yet to break, the air thick and clammy despite only wearing a tank top and some jean shorts over your bikini. You’re already slathered in sunscreen, the artificial coconut smell a bit overwhelming in the enclosed space and it doesn’t seem to lessen even once you’re out in the fresh air.
“I wish we had one of those big umbrellas.” You stand with your hands on your hips, watching the boys lug the bags filled with snacks and the cooler of beer and soda out of the van. “It’s so hot.”
“That’s what the lakes for, cools you right down.” Eddie smiles, shaking his curls out of his eyes as he stands up straight.
You shrug, staring out at the glistening water. “I don’t wanna get my hair wet.”
“It’s gonna get wet.”
“Shame.” You chew the inside of your cheek and hold your arms out to take one of the picnic blankets that’d been brought along.
It took you about fifteen minutes to all settle on a spot along the shore, Eddie and Robin wanting to be as close to the pier as possible so they can dive-bomb into the water but Nancy saying there’ll be too much foot traffic there and nobody will be able to relax. You stand back, letting your friends argue it out and laying down your blanket once the issue had been resolved.
The sun feels nice on your skin, the lake having more of a breeze than the rest of town making it bearable to lay out in. It doesn’t take too long for the midday heat to have you peeling off your tank top, shorts unbuttoned and rolled down a little so you can feel the heat on your stomach.
Eddie hands out one of the joints he pre-rolled for the occasion, something about needing to start early so he can sober up before he drives you all home. The smoke has your head feeling a little fuzzy, mixing with the beer you’ve been sipping slowly and slowing your mind down.
“You’re going pink.” Steve sits down next to you, cross legged and shoulders almost brushing.
“I thought it was green?” You tilt your head to one side, putting the back of your hand to your head to feel your temperature. “I feel okay.”
“No, not that, your shoulders.”
You lift your sunglasses onto the top of your head, looking down to your shoulders which were turning a little pink. Your freckles coming out where the sun had kissed your skin. “Oh, right, I am.”
“C’mere.” Steve leans over to reach for the sunscreen, not moving from his seat next to you as he stretches his arm over the blanket. “Your mom will be mad if I let you get burnt.”
You shake your head, shuffling around so Steve can get to your shoulders easier. “You’re her favourite, she’d just tell me to be more careful.”
The sunscreen feels cold, even as Steve rubs it in carefully against the hot patches of skin on your shoulders, being careful to get it under the straps of your bikini. You’re used to his gentle touches, him always looking after you ever since you were kids, but now you’re older and you’re more aware of the way his hands move and how he treats you like you’re precious and it makes your heart skip a little.
He moves a hand away to take the joint off Robin, inhaling as he keeps massaging the sunscreen in with his other hand. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin, not yet in the sunburn territory, just a little warm. Your skin always feels soft, he’s not sure if it’s some moisturiser you use or if it’s just how you are. He leans his arm over your shoulder, holding the joint out to you as you take it between your fingers.
You inhale, careful not to press your lips against the roach too hard in case your lipgloss transfers too much. Steve finally finishes rubbing the cream into your shoulders, and you shuffle again so that you’re facing him. “Is my face pink too? My nose feels kinda warm.”
Steve lifts his own sunglasses up so he can look at you clearer, hair pushed back by the frames and his hand shielding his eyes from the sun's glare. “A little, you want sunscreen on there too?”
You nod your head, closing your eyes. Your eyelashes cast little shadows on your cheeks, something Steve hasn’t really noticed before but he likes it. Likes seeing you up close, even after all these years. His movements are careful as he brushes the cream across your nose and over your cheeks, just using one finger to rub it into your skin.
You enjoy the sweet moments, but sometimes they’re too easy to get lost in. It's easy to pretend you don’t harbour all these feelings for Steve when you’re apart, even when you’re just hanging out at a safe distance. But when he’s close, your mind gets a bit carried away. Dreaming up scenarios where he might press a kiss to your lips whilst your eyes are still closed, hold your hand once he’s done and keep it there for the rest of the day. You’ve got a big imagination, it’s a real bother sometimes.
Steve finishes his careful application, and sets his hand down in his lap to look over your face once more to check he hasn’t missed anywhere. He takes a moment to just watch how you breath steady, a small smile on your lips that always seems to be there without you even knowing. “Okay, you’re done.”
You open your eyes, instantly squinting from the bright sunlight. You quickly bring your sunglasses back over your eyes, the red heart shaped frames contrasting against your complexion. “Thanks Steve, you’re the best.”
“I know, s’why you love me.”
If only you knew, you think. You have to force your face not to react to his words, simply giving him a smile as you lay back down to sunbathe some more.
The heat and the smoke and the alcohol makes you clingy. They always do, even on their own, so mixing all three was sure to have you craving closeness.
The boys had all been in the lake, splashing and tackling each other and making enough noise to draw attention from most of the people on the lake. When Steve walks back to the blanket, you hold out your arms to him as if to summon him.
“Hey, honey. You good?” He sits in that same spot next to you, you instantly lean your head on his shoulder and hum a response. His body is still wet, but you suddenly don’t mind your hair getting a little damp. Steve knows what you’re like when you’re high, having spent enough nights on his back porch sharing a joint when his parents were out of town. Knows how you like to be close to him, he doesn’t mind it so much either.
“M’good.” You mumble, pushing your face further into his neck. He smells like the fresh water, that same strong sunscreen but somehow still like Steve. You wish you could bottle it up, it's probably your favourite smell in the world.
Steve puts his arm around your waist, head resting on top of yours. If it was anyone else the close contact in the heat would probably be too much, but it’s okay if it’s you. You’re like an extension of him at this point. “You had enough water today? Don’t want you going loopy.”
“Yeah, drank like two bottles.” You nudge your head in the direction of the empty water bottles discarded next to you, keeping them in a pile to collect at the end of the day.
“Oh, must just be loopy anyway then.” He teases, giving your side a gentle squeeze. It feels like his hand has an electric current running through it and each movement sends shockwaves through you.
“Thought you already knew that.”
“I do, it’s cute.”
“So you’ll visit me in the loony bin then?” You shift your head slightly so you can look up at him through your sunglasses, everything tinged some muddy colour from the lenses.
“Every day, if they don’t lock me up with you.”
“God, can you two get a room? Even Robin and Vickie aren’t this bad and they’re actually together.” Eddie shouts over from the other end of the mismatched collection of blankets, your cheeks heat up more than they already are with his words. The sun at least gives you an excuse for the flush of colour.
“Can it, Munson.” Steve flips him off with the hand that isn’t still on your waist, the other boy returning the signal with a smug grin on his lips.
You kind of want the ground to swallow you, suddenly aware that everyone probably knows you’re in love with your best friend. You don’t want the pity smiles or the sorry stares, but then if everyone else knows, why doesn’t Steve? Surely someone must have let something slip by now. Hopefully they haven’t. It’s even worse to think he knows and is ignoring it to save you from the rejection. You squeeze your eyes hard to try and push the thoughts away.
You lean further into Steve’s side, the cool water on his skin feels soothing against your own. His hand finally moves from your waist up to stroke your hair. His thumb brushing slowly over and over.
“You seen Tammy Thompson yet?” You want to put the question back inside your head as soon as you’ve said it.
“Yeah, think you did a pretty good job at being my shield though. Took one look at us and turned on her heel.”
You smile to yourself, a small laugh coming out as you put your arms around Steve. “That’s good. Maybe I’ll get a job as a bodyguard.”
Steve chuckles and you can feel the movement against your body, the vibrations making your hairs stand on end. “Don’t think they usually let bodyguards do this sorta thing.”
“Oh.” You hold your bottom lip under your teeth and exhale. “Maybe not then.”
—
You’re wallowing. It’s maybe overdramatic, and you’re glad nobody else is there to see it, but you are. You have the house to yourself again, and the whole day off work, but you’ve spent most of it laid out on your lawn with a book trying to distract yourself from the fact that Steve is on a date.
He told you yesterday, as he was dropping you off from work again, that some pretty girl had been in Family Video and he’d asked her out and she’d said yes. You’d smiled, told him you were happy for him, because he was your best friend and you wanted him to be happy more than anything else in the world. But it hasn't stopped you from moping about the entire day.
The grass tickles the skin on your back that’s exposed from where your shirt is riding up, the feeling irritating you more than it usually would. You’d managed to read about twenty pages in the past hour, having to re-read each paragraph at least three times because your mind keeps wandering.
Your book is left at your side, defeated by the words that jumbled in your brain, your arm over your eyes to block out the last of the day's light.
“Hey, you.” Steve chimes from over the shared fence, you hadn’t heard his car pulling up and his voice spooks you a bit as you quickly sit up.
“Steve, you’re here.” You furrow your brow, confused by his presence. You were no expert on dating, but you had assumed he’d be out much later than this.
“Can I come over?”
“Stupid question.”
He smiles at your response, giving you a nod as he walks down the fence and back around into your back garden. “You been out here all day?”
“Almost. I had to go inside for a bit because it was too hot.” Your legs stretch out in front of you as you lean back on your palms, head tilted up to look at Steve who’s still standing over you. His body blocks the sun, his shadow gives you some relief from it.
“It was pretty hot today.” Steve agrees, lingering in his spot for a minute before he finally takes a seat next to you mirroring your posture.
“How was your date?” You try to sound interested, like you’re hoping he had the best time and was going to see her again and maybe she was the one. The thought really made you want to die a bit.
“Bit of a bust.” Steve shrugs, he doesn’t sound too phased by it. You curse yourself for wanting to smile.
“That’s a shame.” You say, shifting your weight off your palms so you can sit up straight and pick at the grass under your hands. “Not gonna see her again?”
“Probably not, just didn’t have much to say to each other.”
“But you can talk anyone’s ear off.” You tease, looking at him with your eyes squinted a little, corners of your mouth turned up. Your features look soft in the evening sun, shadows rounding out your cheeks and the little bump on your nose bridge.
“I can talk your ear off.” Steve corrects you, and gives your shoulder a light shove. The light reflecting off his hair has it turning the colour of honey, the same with his eyes. You wish he wasn’t so pretty, his face was far too easy to look at.
“Sorry it didn’t go well.” You twist your mouth to the side, eyes all apologetic because you do want him to be happy even if it does hurt your heart.
“Don’t be. It was nice enough, just not second-date nice.”
“Y’want to watch a movie? We can watch A Nightmare on Elm Street, might make you feel better.”
“Why would it make me feel better?”
“Because you’re not getting chopped up in your sleep.” You say it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Touche. Okay, let’s do it.” Steve pushes himself up off the lawn, holding his hand out to you to help you up. You put your hand in his, his grip solid but still gentle as he pulls you up from the grass.
You brush your legs off, little indents from the grass left in the bare skin of your calves. “I’ve got the good popcorn too.”
You walk into your house through the patio doors, the laminate floor cold underfoot as you pad your way into the kitchen. You root through the cupboards, pulling out the various tins and boxes of health food your mom had stocked up on until you finally find the popcorn.
“See, cinema quality.” You hold the packet out to Steve, pointing at the words printed on it.
“You’re too good to me.”
“Tell me about it.” You roll your eyes, all affection and sweetness really. You turn the stove on, placing the biggest pan you can find on the hob and letting it heat a little before tipping the kernels into it and putting the lid on top.
You hop onto the counter beside the cooker, legs dangling and ankles hitting the cupboard below you as you swing them a little. “Now we wait.”
Steve’s leaning against the island in the middle of your kitchen, hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he looks at you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact you’ve been lazing around in the sticky heat all day, hair probably a mess and skin a little dewy and definitely not looking your best.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks, head tilted a little as his eyes stay locked on you.
You shrug your shoulders, trying your best to keep your breathing steady and not give away the fact that such a simple question has your throat drying up and your stomach twisting into a knot. “Sure, ask away.”
“Do people ever just, like, assume we’re dating?” He asks the question so casually, like he was just asking how your day had been. “Like, when you’re trying to date, do they ever say that?”
You scrunch your nose up, tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek as you try to come up with an answer, try to pull words out of your brain that currently feels like it’s been scrambled. “I d’know, I don’t date much, so I guess not.”
Steve pauses, just nodding at your response. He knew you didn’t really date, not after high school anyway. He’d never given it much thought, you’d always come away from dates complaining they were boring or got too handsy or didn’t laugh at your jokes and he’d always thought that those guys must be crazy. Because you were great, the best person he knew if he was being honest.
“Why?” You force the question out, hoping your voice doesn’t audibly crack from how much effort it's taken to say just one word.
“I was just wondering. Heard it a couple times now, and I was just curious if you had too.”
Heard it a couple times now. The words echo in your brain, bouncing around over and over to the point it was making you a bit dizzy. Your hands grip the counter beneath you to try and ground yourself.
The sound of the kernels popping against the lid of the pan breaks the silence before you have to, a silent prayer of thanks to whatever God is watching over you in the moment. You hop down off the counter to get a proper look at the pan, watching as the kernels expand and pop until the little bangs slow and you can turn the stove off.
You stand on your tiptoes to reach the cupboard above your head, fishing out the largest bowl in there and carefully tipping the popcorn into it. You finally turn back to Steve, bowl held close to your chest with both hands so you won’t drop it. “Okay, let’s go watch some people get slashed up.”
Steve laughs, the little creases at the corners of his eyes deepening with his smile. “You’re morbid.”
“No, I’m creative.” You say the words bluntly, but your eyes are still full of warmth for the boy in front of you. Even the coldest words wouldn’t be able to take away from the way you always look at him, a bit like a lovesick puppy.
You put the bowl of popcorn on the table in the middle of your living room before trying to find the tape you need from the stack around the television set. You have to check a few cases, because most of them weren’t in the right one and there was no point trying to logically work out which one it’d be in.
“Didn’t you loan this from Family Video like, two months ago?” Steve asks, already in his usual spot on your couch as he watches you open your fifth case to no avail.
“Probably, yeah.” You don’t sound too bothered by it, the late fee something you’ve never had to pay thanks to Steve always wiping it for you. Finally, on your eighth try, you pull the correct tape out and hold it up to Steve with a grin. “Got it.”
You eject the tape that’s currently in the VCR player, putting it into the case that you’d found A Nightmare on Elm Street in without checking if it was the right one, and push the right tape into the player before you stand up.
“That seems like a flawed sorting system.” Steve nods towards the scattered cases on the carpet as you sit down next to him.
You shrug. “It works for me. We don’t all work in a video store, Steve.”
“You’re right, my bad.” He holds his hands up in defeat.
You lean forward to grab the popcorn bowl and pass it to Steve. “Try it, I need an unbiased opinion on it.”
“Why would you be biased?” His question is muffled by him throwing some popcorn into his mouth.
“I bought it, I want it to be good.”
“Makes sense.” Steve nods and takes another handful of popcorn. “It’s good, but not cinema good.”
You sigh, taking a handful for yourself now that Steve had given his review. “They always lie on the packets.”
You and Steve had watched this film about ten times, including when it was in the theatre and you made him go twice. Knowing the plot back to front was really not helping to distract you from how close Steve is sitting to you, you didn’t have to pay attention because you know what’s about to happen so instead your brain is entirely focused on the fact you can feel Steve’s body heat, his leg pressing against your own and his arm resting on the back of the couch behind you.
You��re really trying to keep your mind on the movie, eyes stuck to the screen barely blinking, but your brain just won’t cooperate. It’s not like Steve doesn’t always sit this close to you, because he does. But you’re still reeling from what he said in the kitchen and your thoughts show no sign of slowing.
Steve sits up to put the half eaten bowl of popcorn back on the table, his movements making your breath hitch in your chest and your muscles tense. You think you must look crazy.
“You feelin’ okay?” He puts a hand on your shoulder, which only makes you tense up more.
“Mhm.” You hum, turning just a little to glance at him and give him your most convincing smile. “Probably just got sun sickness y’know? Brains been cooked all day.”
“You mean heat stroke?” He rubs his thumb over the curve of your shoulder, the feeling comforting in a sickly sort of way.
“Nah, different things.”
“You wanna go to bed? We don’t have to watch the movie.”
You shake your head, eyes focusing back on the gory scene on the tv in front of you. “I’m okay, I think it’s helping.”
“Watching people get chopped up?”
“Exactly.”
—-
The Hideout is dark and loud and warm, and you’re a bit out of place. You promised Eddie months ago you would come and watch his band play, always meaning to do so but things never lining up the right way, but tonight you were making good on that promise.
You try to dress the part, at least to the extent your wardrobe allows, a strappy black top and a short skirt - that definitely used to fit fine but was now bordering on indecent - all covered up by a big denim jacket that you thrifted a couple years back. A bit of eyeliner smudged across your lids, messy and already creasing with the heat of the venue.
Steve is at your side, obviously. Because he heard you were planning to go to The Hideout and there was no way he was letting you go alone, not when you look like that and the place would no doubt be crawling with creepy guys. Not that he told you all this, he just said he wanted to come along. He was always protective over you, but this felt different to him for some reason. Like, he didn’t want creepy guys to bother you, but maybe he didn’t want any guy to bother you? Those were thoughts he’d have to unpack later.
You pull at the hem of your skirt as you linger near the outskirts of the room, shuffling from one foot to another in your doc martens that aren’t quite broken in yet. You look up at Steve through your mascara coated lashes, eyes wide a bit like a deer caught in headlights, mouth open a little with your tongue pressing against the back of your teeth.
“You all good?” Steve has to shout a little to be heard over the music thumping through the venue, the old sound system struggling to keep up with the heavy bass.
You nod, eyes darting between Steve and the bustling space around you. Your hands stay at the hem of your skirt, finding a loose stitch to pick and pull at as a distraction. “I think I need a drink.”
“Yeah? What d’you want? I’ll get it for you.” Steve could see the way you were staring at the bar, it’s at least two deep the whole way along and you’re definitely smaller than at least 90% of the people waiting. It just made more sense for him to be the one to try and fight his way through.
“Just a lemonade. Unless they don’t card, then I’ll have a beer. But lemonade's totally fine.” The words fall out of your mouth quickly, the heat of the room suddenly sticking to your chest and making you feel flushed.
“Okay, just wait here and I’ll be back.” Steve steps away, but turns back to put his hands on your arms. He locks his eyes with yours, your pupils still blown from the dim lighting. “Right here.”
“Right here.” You look down at your shoes and then back up to Steve, giving him a reassuring smile that you weren’t going to move.
You watch Steve make his way to the bar, feeling a bit exposed now you’re standing alone. He turns back to you from his spot in the queue - if you could even call it that - only briefly, just to check you’re okay and haven’t moved.
It doesn’t take Steve that long to get served, probably about ten minutes from him leaving you to actually having the drinks in his hands. He tried to keep an eye on you, but the closer he got to the bar the more people crowded behind him and blocked his view. So he curses himself a little when he finally breaks through the mass of bodies to see you talking to some guy. Some guy who is definitely at least ten years older than you, and is definitely drunk.
“Um yeah, my friend is in one of the bands playing tonight.” You try to be polite, making small talk has never been your strong suit but you don’t want to be rude. Especially not when you’re on your own.
“Oh right, cool.” The guy - you think his name is Mark? He did tell you but you didn’t really listen - nods enthusiastically. “Just a friend, though? No boyfriend?”
“I, erm -“ You laugh awkwardly, not really sure what to say. You want to lie, it’d be the easiest way to end this conversation. But you’re even worse at thinking fast than you are at small talk.
You don’t have to lie though, or say anything at all, because Steve is back at your side and standing so close your body’s are practically pressed together. He holds out a cup for you to take without a word, and as soon as you take hold of it his arm snakes around your waist to hold you to him.
“Hey, honey. Who’s this?” Steve looks between you and the other man who’s now looking much less interested in talking and much more interested in leaving.
“Oh, I was just telling him that we know Eddie.” You dodge the question of who he is, because you can’t give a real answer.
“Right, and that’s it?” Steve sips his drink, not taking his eyes off the guy in front of you.
“Relax dude, I get it. I don’t want your girl.” Mark, or maybe it was Matt, holds his hands up before he skulks off back into the crowd, most likely to find his friends or another girl to try and hit on.
Hearing the phrase your girl makes your head spin, especially with Steve’s arm so tight around your waist and his body pressing into yours. You take a deep breath and a shaky sip of your drink as you try to calm yourself, because everything is fine. Steve is here and people think you’re together and it’s so fine.
“You alright?” Steve finally breaks the silence, squeezing you somehow closer to him as he speaks.
“Yeah, thanks Stevie.” You grin up at him, the low lighting doing you a favour by covering up the pink that was spreading over your cheeks.
“You didn’t wanna speak to that guy, right? Because you can totally speak to any guy you want, he just looked a bit…” He trails off, scrunching his face a little and shrugging in place of words.
You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t want to, I’m here with you.” The words come out before you really think about them, your eyes widening a little as soon as you realise what you’ve said.
Steve doesn’t seem to react, if he heard what you said - or more so what you meant - he doesn’t show it. “Okay, good. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
You just smile at him, enough confirmation that you are happy. Perfectly content just in his presence. Even if the room is too close and the beer is kinda warm and you feel like you’re dressed up in a costume instead of your clothes.
When you see Eddie walk out onto the stage you step away from Steve, tugging on his hand to pull him closer so you can actually watch your friend and hopefully get his attention to prove that you held up your promise and came out to a show.
Even when you settle in a spot close to the stage, you don’t drop Steve’s hand, and he doesn’t drop yours. Your plastic cup in one hand and Steve in the other, it all feels a bit surreal. Maybe it’s the heat making your brain a little mushy.
You manage to catch Eddie's eye at some point, grinning and holding your drink up at him. He looks between you and Steve, down at your conjoined hands, and nods dramatically with a wide smile. You’re going to have to tell him it’s not what it looks like later, not sure how to articulate that with just one hand and facial expressions.
It’s nice seeing your friend so in his element, the energy of the room lifted by the band's energy on stage. You feel bad for waiting so long to come and watch, even if it was always out of your control.
Their set isn’t too long, only five songs, but they really make the most of their slot. The whole place seemed to get involved, everyone cheering when they finally finished up and headed off the small stage.
“You wanna get some air?” Steve asks, some loose hairs falling into his face as he looks down to you.
“Yeah, s’pretty hot in here.”
Steve leads you through the crowd, still holding onto your hand, and out through the venue doors into the parking lot. There’s a few people outside smoking, little groups gathered together all talking and drinking and looking like they belonged. It made you laugh a little to think about what you and Steve must look like here.
“That was fun, Eddie is so good.” You look down at the almost empty cup in your hand, swirling the remaining liquid around in it til it nearly splashes over the sides.
“Yeah, it was. Don’t think I’ll become a regular here though.” Steve laughs, giving your hand a squeeze as if to acknowledge that he is still holding it. You try not to read into it.
“Yeah, the place doesn’t really scream ‘Steve Harrington’.” You shrug, finally drinking the last of your beer. If it wasn’t warm when you first got it, it definitely was now.
You see Eddie walk outside and finally release Steve’s hand to skip over and hug him, already wishing you hadn’t let go because what if he doesn’t hold it again. You push the thought out of your head and try to focus on Eddie. “That was so good Ed’s, you looked so cool.”
“Thanks short stack.” Eddie leans back to pat you on your head. “‘Bout time you finally came.”
“I know, I don’t break promises.” You speak matter-of-factly, face all serious as you cross your arms over your chest.
Steve was beside you again, though not so close this time. “Good job, Munson. Guess you’re not all talk.” He teases, Eddie giving his shoulder a playful
shove in response.
“It’s good to see you two together. About time.” Eddie points between you and Steve, and your chest tightens as you process what he’s said.
“Oh, no, we’re not-“ You laugh, but it comes out awkward and forced and you look between Steve and Eddie and the floor and try to bargain with the powers that be to strike you down.
“Oh, shit, my bad.” Eddie looks around the parking lot, pressing his lips together as he sighs. “Better hurry it up Harrington, or someone else’ll snap her up.” He pats Steve on the back, and you look at him like he’s gone absolutely insane.
Steve nods, a weak laugh at Eddie's comment giving nothing away about how he feels about it.
You take a deep breath through your nose, hoping the cool night air might stop you from passing out on the spot.
“I better get back inside, have a good night kids. Stay safe.” Eddie waves you off as he walks back inside, disappearing into the dark room and leaving you outside with all the tension and awkwardness in the air that he’d put there. You’d be mad at him if he wasn’t such a nice guy.
You and Steve are both quiet for a minute, and you think this is finally it. You’d managed to keep your friendship untouched by your feelings for so long but it’d finally come crashing down.
“Reckon we head home?” Steve cocks his head as he looks down at you, you must look a sorry state given the pity filled smile he’s giving you.
“Yeah, probably for the best.” Your voice is quiet, and you drag your feet along as you walk to Steve’s car. You toss your cups away in a bin along the way, all over dramatic and woeful as you sigh with the movement.
The drive home was quiet. Steve would try and spark up a conversation but your brain was whirring and everything felt like too much and you could barely force a coherent sentence out.
When you finally arrive at Steve’s house, and your house respectively, you feel frozen in your seat. Because what if you get out and go home and that’s that? Steve stops giving you rides to work and stops watching movies with you and stops letting you stay in his bed when you drink a little too much and don’t want to be alone.
Steve says your name, and you force yourself to stop spiralling in your own thoughts to look over at him. “I had a really nice time tonight.”
“Really? You didn’t think the place was a bit gross?” You pulled the sleeves of your jacket down over your hands, holding them in your lap.
Steve laughs, shaking his head at you. “The Hideouts always been gross. I had a really nice time with you.” Even under the dim street lights Steve can see your puzzled expression, brows pinched together and a little pout on your lips.
“Well, yeah, we always have a nice time Stevie. S’why we’re friends.”
Steve sighed, because you were right. But it’s not what he was trying to say. He was never all that good with his words, and he also didn’t really know exactly what he wanted to say. “Y’know what Eddie said?”
“We don’t have to talk about it, it’s just Eddie, he just says stuff.” You can’t make eye contact as you speak, in half a mind to just bolt from the car, hop your fence and lock yourself in your house for the rest of your days.
“Well, yeah, he does. But I guess lately I’ve been thinking about it, about us.”
You swear your heart was moments away from actually bursting from your chest it was beating so hard, your hands feeling clammy as they gripped tightly onto the denim of your jacket sleeves. “What about us?”
“Just that we’re so close, you know? You’re my best friend, but then sometimes, lately, I look at you and it feels different.” Steve tries to gauge your reaction to his words, but your eyes are staring down at your hands in your lap and your hair is falling so that it covers your face. Maybe he’s got this majorly wrong, completely misread things between the two of you.
“Different how?” All you can manage is stupid questions pushing him for more, for him to just be clear and concise and put you out of your misery.
“Different like sometimes I think I want to kiss you.”
You stop fiddling with your jacket then. The words hitting you in the chest like a semi-truck. You’re not sure you actually heard him right, because you’ve been so certain all this time that your feelings were one sided. A hopeless crush that would just burn in your chest forever, longing for more but never getting it.
“You think you want to? Or you want to?” You finally look up at Steve, turning slightly in the passenger seat so you’re facing him. Seeing the way he’s looking at you, so full of affection and like you put the stars in the sky, makes your stomach flutter like there’s a hoard of butterflies in there waiting to be set free.
“I want to.” Steve breathes the words out, soft spoken like if he says them too loud it’ll scare you away. “If you want me to.”
Your mouth hangs open a little as you try to speak, words failing you completely. So you just nod, blinking quick a few times to make sure you’re actually awake and this isn’t just a cruel dream. “Yeah, I want you to.” You eventually manage, your voice cracking a little.
Steve moves carefully, his hand cupping your cheek so softly it’s almost as if he’s not touching you at all. You breathe in deep through your nose, closing your eyes in anticipation. You’re still not entirely convinced it’s happening until you feel his lips press against yours.
It’s slow and shy at first, a little unsure of what’s allowed when you’re kissing your best friend, when you finally cross that boundary. You tilt your head into his hand some more, as if to say it’s okay, permission to kiss you the way you’ve been dreaming about.
Your hand moves to Steve’s jaw, thumb running along his cheek against the stubble that was there after a couple of days of not shaving. You part your lips a little, and Steve takes your movements as a green light. He kisses you a little harder now, still gentle but with more behind it. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip making your breath hitch in your throat.
It’s a simple kiss, nothing crazy or wild but it’s just what you want. Because it was Steve, and he wants you.
When he finally pulls his mouth away from yours, he rests his forehead against your own. “Was that okay?”
You can’t help but giggle, because it’s such a ridiculous question to you. Of course it was okay, God, it was so much more than okay. “Yeah, Stevie, it’s okay.”
“So I can do it again?”
You’re both whispering, faces still so close that you don’t need to speak any louder. “Yeah, any time.”
Steve presses another gentle kiss to your lips, just a quick one this time but still as full of affection as first. You have to blink hard when he properly pulls away from you to try and stop your head from spinning.
“I wanna do this properly, y’know. Not just kiss you in my car. I wanna take you on a real date, wine and dine you.” Steve nudges your chin with his finger, head cocked to the side as he looks at you.
“I don’t really like wine.” You shrug. “I’ll give it a try though.”
“You’re a real trooper.”
“Anything for you.” You smile sweetly, and you mean it. You think you’d do absolutely anything for Steve Harrington. But it’s fine, because he’d do absolutely anything for you, too.
thank u so much for reading + thank u to the anon for the song rec / request <3
#i wrote this in one day im sorry its not proof read#but its here . i made it. i survived#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x female reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
Judd smut in Y/n's car? 😈
JUDD SMUT IN Y/N’S CAR !!!
Tags: fem! Reader, porn without plot, well I mean they talk like a little before they fuck, driving under the influence?, okay literally don’t do that pls idk why they did it in this fic, being low key inappropriate in front of kids, more weed smoking 🫶, judd has a HUGE HORSE COCK, he also degrades Y/n quite a bit, also like semi public sex??, it’s literally in a car, and once again very unprotected sex, PLEASE WRAP IT!!
Summary: they fuck in Y/n’s car after Judd got his taken away lmfao
Author’s note: SORRY this took me so long to write for some reason,, I hate school so much oml 😡 I was originally going to finish and post this yesterday but like then I got a bunch of unsolicited dick pics and I got scared and didn’t feel like writing smut anymore 🧍🏻🏃🏻♀️ anyways,, I’m back today and I’m fine, just traumatized. I love being a woman fr 💩
Judd smut in Y/n’s car
Word count; 3,9K
(smut under the cut)
Judd took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling most of it through his nose but having the decency to turn his head slightly and exhaling the rest through the barely opened window.
He flicked the burned tip out the window as well; cinder falling down and gathering in the cracks of where the window sat in the door.
“You drive like a fucking grandma— drive faster,” He instructed.
You didn’t turn your head from the road. “I’m actually driving exactly what the speed limit allows. Fuck off. “ You grumbled.
The two of you were on the way back from one of Judd’s deals, which you were almost late to because Judd decided to leave 10 minutes behind schedule, forgetting you had to drive and refused to go too far over the speed limit. The deal itself had been pretty uninteresting; you sat in the car and watched as Judd handed the guy a plastic back and he handed your boyfriend the money.
He got his car hijacked (parentsjacked) two weeks ago, because he got caught lighting an old building on fire. You were there too, actually, too drunk and stoned to care in the moment; but because Judd could be a pretty good boyfriend at times he covered up for you.
“Yeah. Whatever. I need at least one of us to have a car.” He said, when you asked him about it.
Immediately after, you had been prompted to Judd’s personal Uber. Not to mention he had to hide most of his,, not legal substances in the trunk of your car, hence why you were now even more adamant on following traffic rules as to not get pulled over by the cops.
(Or found out by your mom, who already wasn’t a very big fan of your boyfriend)
His raccoons had also made themselves at home in your backseat, at the moment the two of you were alone in the car but often there would be a couple of them napping in the back.
Judd grumbled something in response that you didn’t quite hear, but you retorted; “Shut the fuck up. Why can’t you just act like a passenger princess, or something,”
He opened and closed his mouth, cigarette hanging on his lips. “What the fuck did you just call me?”
You smiled a little. “That’s what you are, babe. You’re my passenger princess,”
Blinking slowly, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray he had placed between the front seats and stared at you blankly. “What the hell are you talking about? You think I look like a princess?” He was baffled.
You suppressed a chuckle, and turned your head quickly to gauge his reaction. “I forgot you’re too edgy to use tiktok,” You murmured. When you opened it on your phone, he would sometimes stand behind you and glare at the screen over your shoulder, but that was all the exposure he’d had to the app.
Judd frowned. “Why don’t you pull over and I’ll show you who the real fucking princess is.” It was half a threat, but none that you took too seriously.
“Oh, yeah? You’d have to pay extra for that, Uber drivers don’t normally fuck their costumers.” You answered coyly, but he didn’t find your quip nearly as funny as you did. You turned back to the road, making sure you weren’t about to run into any middle schoolers as you neared Bridgeton Middle School. Judd didn’t say anything– but you felt his large hand slither up your leg, enclosing around your thigh and squeezing the fat there softly.
He looked out the window to his side, refusing to grant you attention while he continued to massage your thigh; and glaring as you pulled into the parking lot. Judd had convinced you to skip school that day, so you could drive him to his stupid deal and you could smoke and get McDonald’s after. The first part of his plan went without a hitch, until you got incredibly high-horny and you ended up fucking in the bathroom at McDonald’s as well. Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than intended; in a daze and desperate to sober up before you went and picked Jessi up from school. Coincidentally Nick as well, since, you know, Judd's parents took his car.
You parked and turned to Judd, crawling half over to his seat and forcing him to look at you. His glare lessened as he stared at your grinning face so close to his; leaning in. You kissed him softly once, then twice, then three times, giggling and pulling away whenever he chased you. He growled and the hand on your thigh went to your waist, he pulled you in and was just about to kiss you properly, forcefully and roughly when a series of knocks came to your window.
It was Jessi and Nick. You averted your head and let Judd kiss your cheek instead, gently pushing him back as you sat back down in your seat. You motioned for the two to come in.
Jessi opened the door, and allowed Nick to crawl inside first. “It smells like weed and junkfood in here.” She commented, a slight question in her statement as she crawled in, too, and closed the door behind her.
You turned your body halfway in your seat, coming to face her. “Sure.” You ignored her comment. “Had a good day at school?”
Both her and Nick nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Can you help me with some maths-stuff later?” She asked and you wrinkled your nose; Maths was not something you were particularly good at, but you nodded and agreed to help her anyways.
Judd’s hand returned to your thigh and you glanced at him– he was staring blankly at the kids, but he met your eyes with raised eyebrows, indicating he wanted something from you. You hummed. “Hey, Jessi, how about hanging out at Nick’s house for a while?” You looked to Nick, who flushed slightly and nodded in agreement.
Jessi’s mouth tightened as she looked at Nick, and then you. She new that when you asked her that, you really meant; “Hey, Jessi, it would be more convenient for me to drive straight to Judd’s house so we can fuck.”
“C’mon Jessi, we can watch a movie or something,” Nick added hopefully. You smiled, a bit tightly as you looked at Jessi and she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and agreed. “Okay, fine. But can we do that stupid biology assignment together then, instead?”
Nick agreed happily, and the two quickly got a rather animated conversation started. You drove out of the parking lot, Judd’s hand increasing in height on your thigh till he was toying with the hem of your skirt. You flushed, gently pushing his hand down a couple times so Jessi and Nick wouldn’t see, but it ultimately was a losing battle.
The two’s conversation turned to background noise as you drove towards your destination, as fast as you could; now way faster than the speed limit allowed. Judd’s incessant caress of your thigh made your heart beat so much faster and your finger’s grip the steering wheel so much tighter— you could feel him staring hungrily at you the whole time too, seizing you up with that small twitch of his lips that meant he was going to fuck you till your legs were jelly.
‘Step on that goddamn speeder, sugar! Look how he’s eyeing you.. like a big, hungry wolf,’ Connie’s claws locked around the back of your seat, and she moaned when his nails slightly scratched at your fishnets; lifting them and making them slap against your thigh.
You gasped, and sent him a glare that bordered on a sultry pout. “I can’t,” you muttered to Connie. “I’ll actually run someone over if I go any faster,”
Your monstress shook the seat harder. ‘They won’t mind giving up their life for some sweet, sweet lovemaking baby~’ She purred and you glanced at her briefly, with a scandalised expression.
“I really don’t think you should be saying stuff like that,” You retorted, focused on evening out your breathing from the slow teasing of Judd’s warm hand. Then he leaned in, squeezing your thigh in a death grip and placed a long, slow kiss under your jaw
“You changed your mind about fucking your Uber costumer yet?” He drawled, deep voice dragging a whispering growl all the way up your spine.
You shivered. “I think I have,” you breathed back and felt him smile triumphantly against your neck.
He cackled darkly. “Good. You better drop the fucking attitude,” Then, he snapped your fishnets again, watching as thin, red lines appeared on your thigh.
Connie moaned loudly again, fanning her hands in front of her face before dramatically laying down on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats.
“Ew. Can you two not?” That time it was Nick speaking, arms crossed over his chest.
Jessi nodded in agreement; her gaze was locked on where Judd was touching your thigh, burning into you. Your boyfriend in question slowly retreated his hand, half turning in his seat to glare dissatisfied at your two passengers.
Nick shifted uncomfortably and whatever insult he had died on his tongue. “What? Are you fucking jealous or something?” He sneered.
The younger shrugged and looked away. “No.”
Judd grunted, gravely and deeply. “It’s not my fault you can’t get your little prick wet,” He wiggled his pinky finger for emphasis.
You failed to hold back a giggle and gently slapped his arm. “Don’t tell thirteen-year-olds to have sex, you ass,” You scolded, halfheartedly through and smiled as you came to a stop in front of the birch house.
“Okay, get out you two!” You called over your shoulder. “We’ll be right in— I’m just gonna park.” You bluffed, and didn’t miss the way Jessi rolled her eyes at you as she slammed the car door behind her.
Connie rose from the floor to sit in the middle seat in the back. ‘Yeah, park Judd’s dick right in your pussy!’ She drawled, making obscene gestures with her hands.
Judd was quick to point you to a nearby parking spot, concealed a bit by a willow tree with low-hanging branches. As soon as you were parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and Judd was reaching for you.
He pulled you to him by your waist— settling you down over his lap, straddling him. You whimpered as you felt him against you, already straining in his pants. He grabbed greedy handfuls of your ass with one hand, having the other settle on the back of your neck and pulling your hair. He held your head in an iron grip, making sure you wouldn’t avoid his kiss this time around.
Then, he kissed you. Roughly, deeply, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. You mewled as he bit your lower lip, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers gently pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head.
You were already moving your hips, without thinking about it and he wasted no time in aiding you; thrusting upwards while holding your hips down and helping you rock back and forth.
You were already quite sensitive from your earlier rough fuck in the McDonald’s bathroom, your clit swelled and started twitching almost instantly. The rough drag of denim on your panties was almost too much, but the sloshing of warmth in your lower belly kept you going— rutting yourself harder against him.
He moved from your lips, you let out a soft, whiny sigh. “You wanted it that bad, huh? You’re already so fuck-drunk,” He commented, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. He squeezed your asscheek hard. “Up.” He instructed, and shakily, you lifted yourself up to stand on your knees instead of sitting on him.
You held his shoulders for support, definitely not expecting him to bring both his hands under your skirt and roughly ripping your fishnets apart right under your pussy. He let them rip all the way down your thighs and you looked at him wide-eyed.
“I’ll get you new ones, baby.” He grinned, a bit coyly as he pushed your panties aside. His cold fingers gently brushed your folds and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your ruined tights. Your breathing hitched and you desperately bucked your hips, trying to get him to touch you further.
His other hand returned to your hip, to hold it in place and keep you from rutting yourself against his fingers. He gave a warning growl, brows drawing together as he concentrated on the task at hand. He teased your folds apart with his pointer, feeling how warm and wet you already were. You were pulsing, almost, starting to clench before his fingers even entered.
“Judd—“ You moaned. “Do— do something.” You pleaded with him.
Connie was going crazy behind you as well, both her and Maury were sitting in the backseat contributing to an animated conversation. Your monstress shook Maury by the shoulders, yelling at him to get Judd to do anything.
‘C’mon! Fist her already!’ Maury roared, kicking the seat you and Judd were sitting on.
Your boyfriend inhaled sharply, pressing his thumb to your swollen bud— forcing a breathy, drawn out whine out of you. He retaliated by pressing down harder, slowly moving his thumb in a circle that had you desperately bucking into his hand.
He could feel your warmth leaking, wetness gathering and threatening to fall before he finally, finally gave in and shoved a finger into you. He looked at you, drinking in your expression as he burrowed one, long finger into your cunt.
Connie cheered and you cried out Judd’s name. He made a ‘come hither’ motion, slightly scratching deep within your walls right where you needed him. He chuckled, darkly as you clenched around his finger.
“Want one more?” He asked— pressing down on your clit deliberately right as you were about to answer.
You nodded your head, burying your face in his shoulder. “Mhm! Judd— please!” You wiggled your hips in emphasis.
“Good girl.” He praised you, adding a second finger as promised. He pumped them for a little while, relishing in the moans you tried to conceal in his neck and grunting at the occasional bites you left.
Then, he suddenly stopped moving, but not withdrawing his fingers. You whined pathetically in protest. “Relax, slut.” He said. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,”
You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately you were bouncing up and down on his hand; trying to bring them as far into your pussy as possible. You clawed at Judd’s shirt, pulling the neckline down so you could properly bite him and conceal most of your whiny moans.
He groaned, ripping his head back and allowing you more access to ravage his neck. You could feel yourself dripping, warm liquid gathering in Judd’s palm and running down his forearm. He pressed your clit harder, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his fingers— his cock ached at the thought of feeling your little pussy around him again.
The car filled with loud squelching sounds, every time you rose and fell back on his fingers. Your pace fastened in time with Judd’s assault on your clit and you cried out; “Please—please, more! Judd, please!”
“Yeah?” He drawled and you lifted your head from his neck slightly to nod your head. Then, he curled his fingers and touched a spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, loudly, as his fingers began thrusting into you violently. Along with your combined forces, you moving your hips frantically and him rolling your clit with his thumb and scissoring his long fingers inside your pussy, you reached the edge quickly.
Judd sneered. “You gonna cum?” He knew the answer already, could feel it in the way your little pussy throbbed and clenched around his fingers.
Your thighs burned from your rapid movement, shaking as liquid flames consumed your belly. “S’good, s’good— yes,” you breathed, clawing at Judd’s chest.
He bend his fingers inside you again, breathing into your ear in his nice, deep voice. “Come on my fingers, pretty girl. C’mon.”
Again, you definitely did not need to be told twice. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you fell apart with a loud cry of your boyfriends name. He continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, until you were even puffier and so sensitive that you were shying away from his hands.
He grinned gleefully. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you, rubbing your clit in slow circles again, before finally pulling out and allowing you to rest on his knees.
You sat, feeling your own wetness drip underneath you as you tried to catch your breath— Judd however, wasted no time, unbuckling his pants and pulling his fat cock out.
You swallowed at the sight, how fucking hard he was and your pussy clenched again— as if it wasn’t already sore and abused. Subconsciously, you rutted your hips a bit forward, grinding on his knee as you watched him stroke himself. He hissed, hand tightly fisting the base of his cock and making its way to his leaking head; you timed your movements with his stroking.
“C’mere.” He grunted, hands leaving his swollen cock in favour of grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him.
On instinct, you reached forwards and grabbed his dick, standing on your knees again so you could sink down on him. You only managed to get the head in, before one of his large hands wrapped around your wrists; stopping you.
“You take what I give you, slut. Pull shit like that again and I’ll have you on your knees instead, got it?” He growled, his other hand restraining your hip in a death grip that was sure to leave marks on your after— long, purple finger prints.
Though the thought of sucking him off wasn’t terrible, your pussy ached so pathetically and you knew the only thing that would satisfy you was Judd’s cock rearranging your guts. So you whined, but nodded and let him guide you back.
He leaned the seat back a little, Maury yelped and moved away from his place behind you to make space as Judd leaned back. He lifted his hips up, emphasising what he wanted from you.
You reached out a shaky hand, closing it around his base and moving up and down just like he had before. He groaned, teeth clenching as you smeared his pre-cum from top to bottom, massaging him to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn’t ignore the harsh clenching of your hole as he kept you empty. You slowly started grinding against his thigh again, hoping he’d let you.
“Judd..” You sniffled, eyes close to filling with tears. “I need your cock inside me, please.”
You could almost feel Judd’s dick hardened in your grip, and he growled and sat up a little straighter. “Jeez. You whine like a bitch in heat,” He commented, rather smugly.
He beckoned you with his fingers again, and you raised yourself right over his cock but waited to sit down. Judd hummed in approval, guiding his cock with one hand and you with the other, till the head was making its way inside you.
You sighed, relieved, trying to relax your throbbing pussy so Judd could fit. He groaned. “You’re so.. fucking tight, relax.” He said, as he forced his way further inside you.
When he finally bottomed out, you moaned, loudly. He didn’t move right away, so again you took matters into your own hands and started softly rocking your hips.
He grabbed your hand, placing it over your belly to feel the bulge his cock had created inside you. “Feel that, baby? You’re so full, aren’t you?”
You barely registered the question, burying your face in his neck again to hide the way your whole expression screwed up in pleasure. “Mhm.. s’big, s’full.” You slurred.
Then, Judd started moving, bouncing you in his lap like a cocksleeve while you wailed into his shoulder. The stretch was almost unbearable, you felt him bruising your cervix each time he moved— the fit was so snug you could feel every ridge and vain on him.
He lost himself in the feeling of your warm, soft pussy, having tuned Maury out a long time ago he fucked you mercilessly, entirely focused on reaching his own end. He lifted his hips off the seat to pound into you from below— you could feel him in your belly, your clit scraping over his lower stomach every time he moved.
It was too much— you were already close to reaching your end, clenching so tightly around Judd that he cursed and could barely move.
“Feel good, you little slut?” He grunted, blunt nails digging into your sides.
You nodded desperately. “Good.” He said. “Then cum for me again, you’re so close, right? I can feel your little pussy clenching around my dick so tightly, god, you’re such a fucking whore.”
You kinda wanted to say something back, but with his rough thrusts and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and crossed; you couldn’t really deny him.
The air in the car felt electric as you came for a second time, bursting and feeling a flush of warm liquid spill from you and cover Judd’s cock. He groaned as you creamed, warm little hole sucking him in and fighting to keep him there. His breathing went erratic, and he bounced you harder, faster, to chase his own orgasm.
“Fuck! Shit, you’re so tight,” He growled through clenched teeth, fucking you so hard the car shook and he was sure to leave bruises. Your legs had gone numb by the time he took your hand again, placing it back on your belly right in time with his release.
His cock throbbed and he came. Hard. Thick ropes of warm cum filled you, stuffing you so full you could feel your belly swell even further under yours and Judd’s combined hands.
He leaned in and bit down on your neck, keeping his own noises as quiet as possible but making sure to leave your neck swollen and blue. You moaned softly as he bit you, not having the energy to shy away from the borderline painful overstimulation.
When he came down, you collapsed into his chest— breathing heavily. You sat like that for a while, the car’s windows had been fogged up and the only thing you could hear were your combined breathing.
‘Atta girl!’ Connie slithered around you, patting you on the head. You just mumbled incoherently in response, still too sex drunk to function.
Maury did the same, ruffling Judd’s hair as he leaned his head back against the seat and praising him— all of which Judd ignored.
“You’ll have to carry me back.” You muttered, after a long while.
Judd chuckled hoarsely, moving you a bit to pull out of you and tug himself back in his jeans. “Fuck no.”
You slapped his chest, gently, and pulled yourself up to look at him directly. “I can’t feel my legs.”
“Then I did a good fucking job.” He snarked, leaning in and kissing your temple.
Well. It wasn’t like the two of you needed to be somewhere, relaxing in your car for a bit actually did seem like a pretty good option— and so that’s what you did.
God,, why am I horny for a fucking cartoon character wth 💀✋
Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)
#big mouth#judd birch#judd birch x reader#headcannons#big mouth x reader#judd birch smut#smut#Judd is so pretty omg
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
The day you found out you had won Jason Kelces Beard Challenge was the best day of your life. The challenge was simple: put together a snap or tiktok video of how to get a beard as good as Jason and the top winner would win a day with Jason. Your video was a long shot: you made a tiktok showing how if you mixed essence of dwarf, with a bit of neanderthal, and just a splash of viking inside Abraham Lincoln's hat and applied it to your face, you'd look as good as Jason. It did t get very many views but Jason loved it. The next thing you knew you were in Philadelphia meeting the man himself at the airport.
The tour of Philadelphia through Jason Kelces eyes was a lot of stops at places he loved to eat. Steak sandwich, sausage, pizza, ice cream. The man just loved to eat. As the day dragged on just as Afternoon turned to evening he took you to Lincoln Field, his home turf. There was no game and the place was locked down, but that was nothing a few signed balls couldn't handle.
He took you to the locker room, the place where he told you he feels most free to be himself. You both sat down on the bench in front of his locker. He took out a case of bud light and cracked one open. The man drank so much bud lite you swore he was sponsored by them.
He told you to be quiet. To just listen to the sound of the room. To drink it in and become one with the soul of real American football.
The only thing you heard was the bench breaking as Kelce leaned forward and let out a fart with a satisfied grunt.
"Oh, sorry," he said, not sounding very sorry.
"Really? " you said. You looked at him, almost appalled that he would do that with you right next to him.
Jason turned and gave you a wink. "Dont tell me you don't find farts funny. Your a guy. All guys love farts."
You rolled your eyes. "Not really."
"What about this one," he said and let loose a loud bassy fart.
"God stop it, it's so gross," you said as you slid away, but suddenly found yourself pressed against the wall of the locker room. "Seriously dude. What the fuck?"
"C'mon," Jason said as he moved over towards you. “I warned you. Remember when I ate that large sausage with pickled garlic ave said ‘were in trouble later’? What do you think I meant.” and placed a hand on your chest, giving you a bit of a push. "Don't be a prude."
You were caught between a wall, and a wall of beef holding you in place. "Seriously, stop it".
"Can't stop. Won't stop," he said still pressing you in the wall. His eyes were the kind of dull that only cheap low quality beer can make the."You know I bet you never had an older brother. Between me, my dad and Travis we learned to appreciate farts. My dad told me that the best cure is exposure. So to get you up to speed I think I need to gas you more"
He pressed into you and lifted up his keg and let loose with a fart so powerful it echied through the empty locker room.. You struggled to get away from the horrible stench, but couldn't escape.
"No, don't do this," you said as it overwhelmed you.
He turned around and pressed his huge soft center lineman ass in your face, the soft fabric of his shorts spreading across your face like warm dough. It was too much, and you were powerless to stop it. His asshole flexed and relaxed as it sent out a long drawn out series of wet sounding farts. You gagged as the air around you filled with the horrid odor.
"Fuck that was a good one," he said, not budging an inch. “Three point stance just rips these farts out of me.”
"I think I'm going to puke," you said, trying not to vomit.
"If your gonna puke, aim that way, I like these shorts." he said pointing. "Do you think it's funny yet?"
"No!" You coughed.
"Alright you asked for it" he presses his ass harder, wedging your nose on his cheeks. He let loose with a rapid fire volley of farts that left you breathless and coughing. He backed away, chuckling at you.
"God, fuck, that's rank!" You coughed. You tried to breathe fresh air but the locker room had been total polluted by Kelces ass.
"Come on. You don't have to love them, but you gotta at least admit they are funny and manly now. How can you like football and not think farts are funny." he let you stew and come up with an answer.
"Fuck...no," you say.
He shrugged. "Ok. Your loss," he said and pressed his ass in your face again.
"No! Please. God. No. Fuck!"
"What's it going to take? Do I need to pull my shorts down and give you a bare ass stinkface?" He said, pressing even harder.
"No! No more. Fine. They're fucking funny," you cried.
"What?" He said. "I couldn't hear you"
"They're funny!"
"Now are you just saying that to make me stop?"
"No, I mean it. They are funny and they are manly."
"Well, if it's funny you won't have a problem asking me to do it a few more times so you can properly laugh. Right?"
"Uh...fine. Sure. Just, please, no more, I can't take it."
He turned and farted once. "Laugh. Laugh hard and long and deep." He was getting frustrated that you weren't laughing. "Seriously come on guy. This is just as bad for me as it is for you. It's hard to hold this position and if I keep farting I'm going to have to take a dump soon"
"Oh god no!"
"Laugh dammit!" He yelled.
"No, no, I can't."
"Fine then," he said. He pulled you down and set you face up on the bench. He loomed over you. "Ok big fucking guns time" he pulled down his shorts and hovered his raw hairy bear ass over your face.
"Oh shit, dude please don't!" His as was a beast. This close you could make out the rough skin. His ass had taken a pounding over the years and looked like a hefty bag overfilled with cottage cheese. The hair on his crack was dense and black.
"Do you think this is funny?"
"Yes, yes, fuck, yes!" You were sobbing, your body convulsing.
“Good. Then you'll find this hilarious.” he sat down. He sat down hard. He rocked back and forth, the wiry hair of his ass crack scouring your face. He dug deep like he has an itch he was trying to scratch.
"Laugh. C'mon. Laugh, laugh like a big boy." He said, simultaneously belching and farting.
"Ahahaha!" You started crying and laughing.
"Oh fuck. What a fucking cry baby. Laughing at farts is supposed to be funny. Not sad."
"I'm sorry," you sobbed.
"Just...fucking stop," he said, standing and pulling up his shorts as he got off you. "Baby can't handle a grown man's ass. Jesus fuck"
He sat down next to you. You were still shaking a little, tears coming from your eyes. "I'm sorry," you said.
"It's fine, it's not the first time I've gassed someone like that," he said. "your not the only one who cried either "
You sniffed, still wiping tears away. "It was just so...overwhelming. The smell, and the sound, and the pressure..."
"It was a lot. It was," he said.
He drained his bud light and crushed the can. "Ok second chance to get it right." He leaves forward and farted, then looked to you to see your reaction.
You laughed. A genuine laugh. "Fuck, dude."
He smiled and farted again. You kept laughing. "It's funny, isn't it?"
"Yeah. It is," you said, laughing some more.
"Now you" he said
You panicked. You didn't have to fart. You were to nervous.
"What the hell. Do it"
"I don't know if I can," you said.
"Come on. Do it. Do it" he chanted.
"I can't."
"You trying to make me mad? You're a guy. You should always be ready to let rip"
"But I'm not drunk like you are. And I'm not a fucking monster with an ass like yours."
"Fine, then, let's fix that." He reached down and ripped a huge one. He reached for his phone and placed a call "Trav. Yeah we got an emergency. Yeah get that chili defrosted and get some real cheap beer. Ooooh and some gas station food. Yeah he's a wimp. Didn't laugh. No he did. Fuck no she can't come to. Alright. Love you. No homo" he hung up the phone.
"Your brother's coming over?"
"Yup. And he's gonna be pissed if you don't laugh when he cuts one. He loves farts. And he's got an ass that could kill a guy."
"Wait..."
"We're going to our man cave. It's a cabin in the woods. Just guys. Strict no pants policy. You better hope Trav remembered his boxers. You are gonna learn to love being a man like us and become the third Kelce brother, or you ain't leaving that shack."
"What's it going to be like," you said, afraid, but also excited.
"Oh, you're gonna hate every minute, and you're gonna love every minute."
"Fuck. I'm going to get wrecked, aren't I?"
"Oh definitely. We will probably fuck up your head so much. You're going to end up with a fetish for this."
You laughed.
All you could do was laugh.
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
< event m.list┆inside their phones
characters: vil, leona, cater
details: gn!reader / i forgot to verify vil sorry T-T
﹫cater diamond
the cringiest but sweetest boyfriend ever. I’M SORRY he’s trying to be the boy of your dreams but he’s flopping. he loves u so much though, so ignore how cheesy he is and appreciate that he’s gotten into all your favourite music artists :(
he adds a gazillion heart emojis by your contact name and it changes everyday because he can’t stick with one
he may be cringe but he is free
anyone who follows him on any sort of social media groans whenever he posts. it’s 99% of the time going to be him gushing about you. at least half of the school know how in love he is with you — his highlights on magicam can attest to that…
he’s the type of guy to share how long your facetime calls are with everyone (they last HOURS.. sometimes you guys don’t even talk, you just like being in each other’s presence. you’re too lazy to go see each other in person)
overall an amazing boyfriend, always making sure you know you’re loved. please do the same for him too!! you know, for when he feels a little low.
﹫ vil schoenheit
subtly flaunts your relationship but nobody knows who you are. it’s like the world’s biggest mystery. “Who Is Dating Vil Schoenheit?” trends online every few weeks
he’s gatekeeping you but he’s also showing you off?? like??? brags about you on his story but doesn’t say enough for anyone to connect the dots
if you eventually make it to his magicam page, just know you have won at life. this will be your biggest accomplishment. he’ll be super serious about the whole situation, since he’s exposing your relationship to a ton of fans; he doesn’t want you to feel overwhelmed or pressured by the exposure
he might start managing your social media account as well. you both have matching themes <3
﹫ leona kingscholar
leona does not use social media.
he’s just terrible with a phone overall, he forgets he has it on him and you guys miss each others’ calls. prefers when you’re with him in person because he can’t use these stupid apps!
in fact, he only made a magicam account so you could tag him in your posts.
people keep thinking you’re single, he got irritated
he also finds himself stalking your page every week or so because he’s wondering why he’s never seen any of these photos you’ve been posting??
and who on earth is taking these photos of you? why isn’t he the cameraman?
denies that he stalks your page even though you’re certain he has post notifications on because he’s always first like. (he doesn’t know any other magicam function)
once you let him on your phone and he accidentally started a live
he was half-asleep and shirtless. he couldn’t find the end live button so he switched off your phone and threw it. it was the talk of the school for a LONG time
trivial things like magicam are just a waste of time for him, he’d rather not
<-
#event・recently deleted 🗑#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst smau#twst texts#twst fake texts#cater x reader#cater diamond x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#🐾・/ rggie twst
2K notes
·
View notes
Note
hotch unconsciously favouring new bau!reader and she doesn’t even notice 😭😭 she just thinks he’s super sweet and everyone is like 🤨🤨 where’s our special treatment aye?
WHERE DO WE GO NOW | A. HOTCHNER
warnings: mostly fluff, but a kiss?
an: SORRY I TOOK SO LONG HOPE YOU LOVE IT, ignore how bad im at writing like technical fbi stuff lol
as he returns to his seat on the jet, hotch gives you a pack of food and some water. you put your earplugs back in after grinning and thanked him. morgan smirked at his boss's strange actions, but he remained silent.
"all right, let's briefly review the case's facts. while morgan and prentiss travel to the M.E., jj and reid head to the crime site. y/n and i will head over to receive a briefing. okay, everyone, let's get going."
you smooth your dress down and collect your belongings, trailing hotch in the process. as soon as you enter, he opens the door for you and goes inside for a briefing.
"the victim's boyfriend last spoke with shelby at 9:02 p.m. we spoke with the bartender at jack's bar, where she was around for the majority of the evening at 9:30. we are currently obtaining the security footage from her. tell my staff or me if you need anything."
spencer said as he left the room, "i'm going to call garcia and ask for access to the security cameras sooner rather than later."
"how's jack doing?"
"he is doing well! he does, however, truly miss you, especially your homemade chocolate chip cookies."
"does he miss the cookies or do you?" you chuckle.
Thinking to himself, "I will not answer that question," you smile and wondered who else he let his guard down for. we was always open to you, even though he never discussed his past with others.
"what would you say about you, jack, and I visiting the aquarium? ever since you got him that ipad, he has been telling me about dolphins, and i get texts all the time."
as he takes a sip of coffee, reid enters the room and says, "garcia has found the camera footage. what did I ruin something?"
1 HOUR LATER
"as of right now, it appears that the unsub prefers women who are between the ages of late 20 and early 30. Every victim carries a huge risk, and I think he enjoys the possibility of exposure. kidnapped from bar parking lots despite the fact that his face is constantly hidden. he has a dark-colored van and it's clear by the signature he injures the victim, since he has a long-term damage of his own.
"y/n i would prefer if you would lay low on this case, you fit the profile and i don't want anything to happen to you."
"are you certain? given the profile, it could be the greatest option for us."
he nods while leaning back in your chair, knowing that he thought too highly of you to see you be in harms way. you have no idea how much more than you realized he cared for you.
"fine, do not put yourself into a situation where you know it will end bad."
the remaining members of the team carrying on the discussion regarding the unsub's actions. garcia chiming in with men who match the description. you gently brush your hair away from your face and glance at the hotch. even though you quickly avert his gaze, you can still feel his eyes on you.
"i'm sorry to break this terrible news, but I believe there is a match for this suspect. i'm sending you travis's records and the last two address on file." the group leaps up and sprints towards the available cars. together, you and hotch jump into the car navigating your way to his address.
you get out of the car as soon as you get there. as you search the house, some of the team arrives, and you head upstairs. Your mouth is grabbed by a hand and you are slid into a room. you fall as a result of your head slamming into the wall.
you were able to get up and cause him to lose his balance by kicking the back of his knees. your body reverts to its limp form. travis limps his way back toward your body. there's a shot, and you reach for your gun. You turn to face the hotch, who is gripping his gun.
You say, "thank you," as he helps you leave the house. doctors are rushing to your side right away. hotch stays by your side throughout the whole thing. It is a blessing to have someone who is as concerned as he is.
He asks in jest, "so you still up for the aquarium?"
TINY BONUS
With your earbuds in but the volume down enough to hear the entire conversation, the team continues to tease you on the flight back. "Where's our special treatment?" you chuckle to yourself in private.
#criminal minds smut#criminal minds#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#spencer reid#emily prentiss
204 notes
·
View notes
Note
sorry to ask, but i've been googling and info is so sparse. do you happen to know if new/untreated MCAS can cause weird/false negative results in enviro allergy tests? i tested negative for literally everything in the panel, including multiple things i definitely tested positive for when i got testing the first time (admittedly over a decade ago) for which i have recieved no immunotherapy. i just read a thing saying MCAS can be caused by covid, and i have started having? like? mild allergy type reactions? to food i know i wasn't allergic to before i got covid? so like, maybe??? idk. no worries if not, sorry for the bother
Covid does seem to be causing some people to develop new allergies, which they may or may not test positive for, which is consistent with mast cell instability.
As for testing positive, then negative years later: how were you tested?
I tested positive via a skin scratch test for all my worst allergens and negative via a blood test. That is because scratch tests themselves produce a histamine response due to hyperactive mast cells in the skin (which is why mast cell instability is linked to conditions like chronuc idiopathic hives and dermatographia or ‘skin writing’), so it can make pinning down specific allergens vs a general histamine response a little trickier.
If you were tested both times via blood test, well, then I’m less sure how to explain that, except that sometimes people can develop and lose allergies as they age.
If, however, you are testing negative but still experience allergic reaction symptoms after exposure, it may well potentially be a mast cell issue, and you should treat it as though you have an allergic reaction to the thing and avoid it. Constant low-level exposure to allergens can also trigger MCAS in some people.
Good luck with figuring things out.
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
I need to (9)
... Remember
MASTERLIST
Summary: It turns out, you can’t outrun the past
Pairings: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader
Warnings: MIGHT CONTAIN SPOILERS cursing, talks about cheating and inappropriate relationship, angst, fluff, hints of blackmail, gaslighting, this is awful, might contain some triggers regarding psychological abuse relationships, and relationship with power imbalances, toxic relationship
Wordcount: 3.998 k how cool 😂
Notes: Can’t believe we are already in the 9th chapter! what a trip! hehe Anyways, like it was said in the warnings... it gets a bit angsty
Cregan was nervous
Really nervous
His room was a mess, his bed completely covered by clothes, his own clothes, that he had tried on and then discarded for different reasons
“This one is too formal”
“This one has a small hole in it”
“This one makes you look like a creep”
“This one makes you look like you just ended filming Aegon’s conquest history channel remake“
All commented by Jace
“Dude it is going to be fine! just a shirt and some jeans will do”, said Jace, “maybe a button up shirt with jeans, clean jeans…”
“I want to make this special”, he said, “like, enough that it looks like I care… but not enough that she thinks she is under dressed”, he continued
“Wow”
“I really like her, I want this to go well”, he looked at Jace in the eyes, making him smile
“Where are you taking her?”, he asked
“To that place with Yitish food?”
“Oh it's cool”
“Right? I mean, it is not very fancy, but is a treat, the place looks amazing, and it has a great variety of food you know, plenty to pick up from… and it's kind of intimate too, but not that fancy that we are nervous because of it…?”
“She is going to love it”, he said, confidently, “I’m happy for you guys, even though you just met, I can tell there is something going on”
Then Cregan’s phone dinged, he grabbed it and smiled when he realized it was a text from you, but then he got serious
“What?”, asked Jace
“She canceled”, he said, sadness sneaking into his eyes
“Why?”, asked Jace, “did she say?”
“She said she is very sorry, but she can’t make it, and that I please don’t hate her for it”
“Oh man”, whined Jace, “I know she likes you, maybe she got too nervous”, he tried
“Yes, maybe I jumped the gun, maybe I was too fast”, Jace twisted his lips, “well… I hope I didn’t make it awkward”
“You didn’t”
“I was really looking forward to it”, he whispered, “I wonder what happened”
“Well lucky for us… we have a man on the inside”
. . .
You hugged into the pillow tighter as you fell someone opening the door, embracing yourself for the coming storm that was your roommate
“Heeey!”, she sang, “how are the preparations going?”, whe she saw you, laying on the bed, you heard her stop in her tracks, “what happened? why aren’t you getting ready for your date?”, you sniffed, couldn’t hold it together
“I can’t go on a date with Cregan”, you whined
“Why not? you were so excited”, she asked
“He was here…”, you whined, “my ex, Aemond was here…”
48 hours before
You had your morning free, and so did Cregan, so he had accepted to pose for you for the photography class
You met in the park that joined all the buildings together
He was waiting for you, so handsome, still in winter clothes, so were you
As soon as he saw you, he drew a big smile that made your heart jump within your chest. You smiled widely
“Ready for some pictures?”, he asked
“Oh I hope you are ready”, you teased
You grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to an evergreen tree that was in the main part of the park, it was huge, with purplish-red leaves and a white color on its branches and trunk, it was breathtaking, you knew here in the North they called it “the heart tree”
One of the branches hangs low, so it was perfect for Cregan to stand in front of it, the beautiful leaves in the background
“Watch the ISO and the exposure”, he said as he smiled at you, entertained
“Oh no, I’m using automatic”, you mocked, his face got all serious and you snapped a picture
“Hey…”, he protested
“Am I the teacher’s pet or not?”, you teased, he laughed wholeheartedly
“Alright”, he said posing. He had control of his “model face”, he was so handsome you were thankful you had the camera hiding your face or else he would see clearly how nervous you were.
“I’m thinking something…”, you whispered
“What?”, you pushed him into the tree, he laughed, a couple of leaves frames his face, and you snapped photos, of the beautiful leaves, and his laughing face in the background
“YES!”, you cheered, checking the pictures, they were great
“Can I see?”
“Oh no”, you teased, “you will have to wait”, he hadn't showed you the pictures, you were not going to show him yours yet
“Wanna grab a cup of coffee?”
“Yes”, you said back, you started your walk towards a small cafeteria just outside of campus
“Is the cold getting to you yet?”, he asked
“No, its fine”, you whispered, “I like it”, you entered the small coffee shop, as the rest of the campus, it was made of old stone, had a nice, ancient but cozy sense to it, nice warm lights, wooden tables and vintage coffee machines, cozy seats with wooden cushion made of soft, old colors, it was so beautiful
“How do you like your coffee?”, you let him invite you, as you smiled coyly at him
“An Ashford with a spoonful of chocolate, no lactose milk, two sugars”, you said with a shy smile
“You have a sweet tooth” he muttered looking at you with a smile on his face, “I like that”, poor barista felt like she was intruding while you undress each other with only your eyes
“How do you take yours Ser?”, you teased back
“Dornish”, he finally broke the spell and talked to the woman, “semi-skimmed, a spoonful of cinnamon, one brown sugar please”
You had to take a mental note of that
You took your coffees and sat on a cozy table by the corner
“What do you think about Friday?”, he asked, “for our date?”
“I’d love to”, you answered with a big smile, it was two days from now, “where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise”, he said
“Uh, what about the dress code?”, you teased
“Mmm”, he hummed, “I’ll leave it to you”
“oh c’mon!”, you whined, “you have to give me something!”, you teased, he shook his head, he looked at your cup and smirked
“Now, I don’t want to push it and get between a girl and her caffeine, but… “ he said with a smile, “I am curious about your beverage”
“That’s funny, I am curious about yours”, you teased, “so specific and exotic”
“Let’s do it then”, you looked into his eyes as he looked into yours, you passed each other's coffees, fingers touching
The taste was strong, but comforting, much like Cregan himself, so foreign to you and yet, it felt kind of homey
He moaned softly, catching your attention
“So creamy..”, he whispered, his intense gaze on you
“Yours not so bad itself”, you whispered, completely flustered.
His gaze was on you, yours was on him, the smell of chocolate, coffee and cinnamon was in the air… the heat from the small wood heater warm your body as the sip of the coffee had, soon, Cregan was too far for your own comfort, he seemed to notice, moving on his spot to come close to you
“I bet it tastes even better… if I do this…” Cregan leaned in, and you felt your heart in the back of your throat, a cinnamon taste in your mouth
He was going to kiss you, you closed your eyes and puckered your lips like a tennager in those cheesy romcoms, but the kiss never came
“HEY GUYS!”, Ben joined you at the table, clearly oblivious to what was going on, Cregan and you separated as the other burned your skin, trying to make him believe nothing had happened
Shit fuck
“Hey dude”, said Cregan with an embarrassed smile, “how that paper coming?”,
“Great”, he said, “you won’t believe what my economics professor did today…”, he started chitchatting, Cream arm was behind you, he didn't remove it as he got comfortable on the Long chair next to you, as he listened to his friend
You were about to kiss him
The boys started talking, you chipped in once in a while, but you had classes son after, so you apologized and left
You were about to kiss Cregan… the taste of cinnamon still lingered on your lips, it was exhilarating, scary and exciting all at the same time
Besides photography you had six very demanding classes, and you needed to focus, your performance was way better than the one in Dragonstone, you were more invested, more dedicated and far more interested, but… the first semester was always the hardest, it was a hard contrast against highschool and…
You had a date with Cregan Stark
Oh gods
What were you going to wear? jeans? sneakers? boots? a dress with many layers so you won’t freeze to death?
Homeworks and research had you spend the rest of your day head down into the computer lab and wood workshop, trying to get ahead some work so you would have friday free
Also, you used a special program to develop the photos, the face of Cregan staring back at you his flirty eyes, his smile
He was so handsome…
You wondered what he thought of you when he developed your photos.. no matter, you prepared the 5 photos of his portrait and were done for. Wanting to leave him for the next 48 hours until your date.
Tomorrow you had design workshop, the most important class of them all
You needed to get your head in the game, you were struggling, as many first years, but you needed to keep the work up, and even though you wanted it, bad, you couldn’t get distracted with Cregan.
28 hours before
But as you were preparing to get out of your room the next morning, Sara already had left, you opened the door, and gasped
Finding someone else at your doorstep, wanting to knock on the door
“Aemond”, you whispered, wide-eyed and shaking, he smiled softly, his eye twinkling
“Hey stranger”
You were cutting classes for him, as you looked at him flinching, squinting your eyes as he sipped on his black coffee from the Arbour, no sugar, no happiness, pure bitterness. He made a sour face and let the coffee sit a bit away from him
“This place is… picturesque”, he said like he was looking at a week-old roadkill
“I like it, it was character”, you said defensively
“Of course you do”, he said mockingly. You watched him expectantly, you started playing some sort of sick game, whoever speaks first, looses
He looked back at you, and then he drew an amused smirk
“Well, I think you proved your point”, he lost
“What do you mean?”, you asked
“You punished me, ghosted me, fled from me, you proved that you can be independent, I learned my lesson, now let’s go back South”
“I didn’t come here to prove anything to you”, you said, “and much less to punish you”
“Did you get my emails?”, he continued
“No”, you lied, and he knew you did, because he smiled, “I did a week ago, what does that have to do with anything?”
“I told you I was coming…”, he said, “I told you you tricked me, that woman tried to babytrap me”
“Did she trapped you with her vagina?”, you whispered angrily leaning over the table, “what was it? a carnivorous plant? Were you an innocent fly?”
“Stop it!”, he whispered back, “you are being childish”
“And you are being borderline a psychopath”, you said back, “is over between us Aemond, you cheated on me, we are done”, he smirked
“When did fighting for your relationship stop being romantic?”, he asked
“I told you…”, you were getting angry, and he had barely moved his lips, he was fresh as a lettuce, so, you needed to calm down, “I don’t want to work things out, cheating is a deal breaker”
“And I’m telling you… I think you should reconsider”, he said simply
“Why would I?”, you asked back, “is not like we are married with two kids, Aemond…”
“Not yet darling…” he said with a smile once it would have made your legs turn to jelly, “I’m thinking it would be foolish to throw it all away, many thought we were the perfect couple, we had the looks, the money, the influence… all of it”, you rolled your eyes, “we are perfect for each other”
“No we are not”, you said, your lip trembling.
The worst part is? He could manipulate you, he could make you believe his words, right now, sitting in front of him, you felt powerless, even though now you were in your university, across the continent, with your friends, your terrain…
He still had that power over you
“See, I think we are”, he said
“You… never took me seriously”, you whispered, “you made me change colleges, you were willing to sacrifice my future…”
“I never make you do anything”, he said simply, your eyes filled with tears, “you did on your own volition, you decided to go to the best school on the country on your own”
“I didn't”, you whined
“You did it because you knew it was the right thing to do”
“Aemond I don’t want to be with you anymore”
“Why, because I looked away once?”
“You fucked my teacher Aemond, a professor of the school”, you said, “my mentor, the only one who gave a shit about me”
“Well, now we know why, don’t we?”, you froze, “she used you to get to me, she targeted you… to use you to get to me”
You believed him
“Aemond, you fucked her”
“I know”, he said, seriously, “I fell for it, but now, I’m telling you that I regret it, that it might just be the biggest mistake of my life, because I lost you”
“You are sad because you lost the founding for your father’s campaign”, you said bitterly, he smirked
“We are perfect for eachother”, he said, “we belong together”
“Aemond, this whole thing made me realize that… we are not so perfect for each other, we want different things”, you whispered, “you want… I don’t know, global domination, power, a public life, I don’t want any of those things”, he only looked at you, angrily
“Are are together since the tenth grade”
“I know”, you said, “and it was beautiful, innocent and sweet, but we are not kids anymore”
“No, you are right”, he said, “we are no longer kids, what we do, the decisions we make, matter and affect those around us…”, you frowned, not knowing what he meant, “Now I know, you shared that picture to damage me as well”, he said bitterly
“I didn’t share that picture”, you said firmly, “I just wanted out”
“You wanted revenge, you got rid of her because you wanted her gone”
“That’s not true”, you whispered, “Maris Baratheon stole the picture from my phone and spread it around, not me…”
“Either way, you took it”, he said, “You spread that photo of us”, he said with venom in his voice, “Do you want to play that game?”
“I didn't spread anything!”, you said back
“Do you know what I can get out there? from you?”
Your world stopped spinning as you looked at the man across from you
He had nude pictures of you
Things you had sent him, and he had taken screenshots of, you knew because you received the notification. WHen you confronted him, he gave you this whole speech, that he was your boyfriend and there had to be trust between you, that is “how relationships work”
“Are you threatening me?”, he chuckled darkly
“No darling, I… just… pointing out the trust we had for each other”, nothing, because you didn’t have nude pictures of him, he never send you one, and the ones he did, you didn’t take screenshots, “the things we had shared, and lived… together”
It was a threat
A single tear fell from your cheek
“Now now, why are you crying?”, he asked innocently
“Aemond let it go, you are in Dragonstone, I bet you can find someone better than me, someone that wants the same things as you”, you said softly
“No one like you babe”, he whispered
“Aemond, we are not getting back together”, you said firmly
“I don’t think you are thinking clearly”, he repeated, “we love each other, I came all the way up here for you!”
“I didn't ask you to!”, you fought
“Together, we have money, influence, power, together we have a future…!”, he continued
“I wonder who benefits more from all of this”, you whispered
“...And we love each other”, he continued
“Not anymore Aemond…”, you tried to stand up, but he stopped you, grabbing your hand
“I’m here for three more days”, he said, “I advise you to think about it, or else… I might let someone steal your pictures from my phone like Maris stole yours”, you paled, releasing yourself, and exiting the cafeteria, you could still make the second part of your class after the recess
But you couldn’t focus
He wouldn’t do that, would he?
No…
He would, you knew he would, he would spread them all around Dragonstone campus, and perhaps even here, but you didn’t know they would fly here
Your face was in those pictures
4 hours earlier
Your nerves had been on edge since yesterday, you thought about it even, coming back to him, but you couldn't, if he was going to post those pictures fine, you could not live your life blackmailed by your ex boyfriend
You met Aemond again, this time, in the fanciest restaurant in town, way out of your budget but enough for me, you found him sitting there, sipping a cup of wine
You in jeans and a sweatshirt under your jacket, you tried to ignore his disgusted face
“I thought this palace could be ideal to celebrate”, he said softly
“Celebrate what?”, you asked shyly
“That we are recuperating what we once had, because of course you regained your senses” he served you whine
“I don’t think you are understanding what is going on”, you warned, he sighed, apparently giving up
“This place has changed you…”
“Thankfully”, you said sharply. He looked at you, he got angry, you could tell, he already knew by looking back at you that you were not going to budge, that you were not going to crawl back to him
“Not really”, he said bitterly
“Aemond, I’m not going back together with you”, you said firmly, “my life is here now”
“Your life? away from your family? and your friends?”, he mocked
“My friends are here now, and I see my family any time I want”, you defended
“in a second-rate school?’
“Is the best school on my field”
“Design”, he mocked, “do you think here, alone, by yourself, can you achieve all the things i can give you? easily?”, he was lashing out, and you were going to take all his heat
“I want to discover it”, you said simply, he frowned, you could tell
“Do you think you can find someone who is going to love you as much as I do?”, he continued, you stopped moving, “who can give you all the things I can?”, you only looked at him, “you will never found someone like me, especially not with that guy you are shamelessly walking and talking to”, now you were scared
“How do you know?”, you asked, and then you shook your head, “Aemond, I really hope so”, you said back, “I really hope I never find anyone like you ever again”, you were to stand up
“I made you”, he bit out, “I made you the person you are today, I gave you everything, you were just an orphan when we started dating you had nothing… I gave you connections, I introduced you to my family, and my friends in Dragonstone”, you only looked at him with pity, “last chance… are you going to throw all of it away?”, he asked
“I already did”, you bit back, “Don’t ever contact me again Aemond”, you whispered, “I thought we could be civil, but if this is how you want to ends things, so be it, I don’t ever want to see you again”
“That is going to be difficult in political events”, he mocked
“I’m going liberal”, you answered blankly, “And your friends all acted like they had sticks up their asses, oh and Aemond? Apart from Helaena, your family SUCKS! your brother has hired sex workers and he is only 21, and has a drinking problem, your grandfather and father are creeps and your mother Aemond, your mother is in a religious cult!” you said before you storm out of the restaurant
And that is how Sara found you, curled up in your bed, sobbing
When the adrenaline of the rage and the heat of the fight abandoned you, you started crying and couldn’t stop
You were sad, scared of what Aemond could do, and in hysterics, because you still believe what he says, because he had power over you
What if nobody ever loves you?
When she entered Sara saw the state you were in and went to hug you tightly
At least you did have friends, you did, good friends, with even only two months of meeting them you knew that you loved
“What happened?”, she asked. And you told her everything
. . .
It took you all night and the rest of Saturday to regain your composure, you knew you owed Cregan an explanation.
So you went with Sara to their palace, half an hour before they had invited you to play board games with the rest of the group, and order from The Tavern Wings and Beer, you really thought Jace and Sara had made this up for you and Cregan to talk, because you knew Jace had asked Sara why you canceled your date
As soon as you entered the apartment, Jace and Sara locked themselves in the kitchen with lame excuses, leaving you and Cregan alone
“I’m sorry Cregan”, you said, he could see how sad you were, and he wanted more than anything to console you, “I really do like you, but I don't want to string you along, really I… my ex did a number on me, and he paid me an undesired visit yesterday, and I realized I’m just not ready to date yet”, you said, finally looking at him, “but I really do want you close, and hang out with you, do you think you can settle for a friendship first?”, he smiled softly
“Of course I can”, he said, “thank you for telling me”, you begged him, with your eyes, even without releasing it, and he couldn’t help it, he hugged you against his chest, and you immediately hugged him back
“I’m sorry”, you whispered against his chest
“You have nothing to be sorry for” he said, caressing your back
Jacaerys and Sara were clearly listening, when they gout out of the kitchen with big smiles on their faces
“Let’s warm up before the rest get here”, said Jace
“I think we all need to sign agreements before a notary that clearly stated that what is going to happen here, when i completely destroy at “Iron Bank property” is not going to affect our relationship with you guys”, you laughed
“Oh I agree”, tease Sara, “But when we play ruins of old Valyria, that is when I’m burning you all”
Baela and Rhaena, Alysanne, Ben, Jon, and you four
It was so much fun
Perhaps tomorrow everyone was going to know how you looked naked, but tonight? you were going to enjoy it
If you still had your friends by your side, you had nothing to be afraid of.
More notes: now we are done, we are not going to be seeing that fucker anymore, for the time being, I mean, he got the message, he won't try to get with reader again, but he might be mentioned or show up in the future when they run into eachtoher
I edited a sentence int he discussion about Alicent, not fair what I wrote, I edited it
taglist! ❤️
@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata @watercolorskyy @yazzzmints @n4tforlife @littleshadow17 @alexa4040 @speedyballoonpainter @hc-geralt-23 @rayrayredpanda @eralen @yentroucnagol @valeskafics @iloveallmyboys @schadenfreude-and-sarcasm @ttkttt @aleemendoza2425-blog @drwstarkeyy @casualfansoul @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bruher
#misguidedneed#cregan#cregan stark#cregan x y/n#cregan x reader#cregan stark x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond x reader#house of the dragon#hbo house of the dragon
270 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
p3stie
P3ST
excalibur0
Discretion Is Advised
siim-tv
Sii-MTV
hellomrwinchester
Untitled
honeycutgh-blog
Untitled