#enemies to lovers
maelialuv · 3 days
Call It What You Want, Steve Harrington
Summary: Going to a party at your bully's house had to be your worst nightmare come true. But you know what they say; don't get over someone, get under them.
Warnings: SMUT! slow burn filth. I need a hot shower level. breeding kink if you squint. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) fem!reader :)
NOTE: some characters have been aged up, like chrissy, so that everyone is in senior year at the same time :)
Word Count: 5.9K
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You loved a party. Couldn't get enough of the heat of a group of people, the roar of laughter overlapping with the excited chatter of friends reuniting. The inevitable crash of dropped glass making the whole crowd hush before resuming their nestled talk. You were, in every sense of the word, a party girl. But that wasn't always the case.
Before this year - your senior year at Hawkins High- you'd been riding the coat tails of your childhood best friend, Nancy Wheeler, all throughout your school life. You were the sad little puppy that followed her around, but Nance never minded. She was always happy to have you by her side, or just behind her. Everywhere she went, you were there a few seconds later. That was until she started hanging out with, and later dating your sworn enemy.
Steve Harrington.
The guy had tormented you since middle school, along with his minions Tommy and Carol. The two of you used to make fun of people like them, stuck up and out of touch, and then she became one of them. Just like that. You could tell she felt guilty, by the way she would send you a furrowed glance at lunch as if to say 'I'm sorry, I have to!', like she had no control over who she surrounded herself with. As if she had no choice but to curl up beside the guy that broke your elbow in seventh grade.
Like she couldn't help but fall into the arms of the guy that had made your life a living hell for more than six years.
You still occasionally spoke to Nancy. After all, you lived across from one another, and thus had to see each other at some points. She would sometimes invite you to study, but you had started to make excuses after you had seen Harrington climb the garage roof and into her window, not liking the thought of his impulsive tendency for a romantic rendezvous interrupting a study session whilst you were there. You didn't want to put Nacy through the grief.
Your 'Lost Lamb' persona left you the moment you started hanging out with someone you never thought you'd consider a friend in your wildest dreams, or nightmares, Chrissy Cunningham. Expecting her to be a total Queen Bee, she was nothing of the sort. She was warm and kind and sisterly, all the things you missed from your friendship with Nancy. She sat with you at lunch, went to the movies with you, and eventually secured you a seat at the table with the rest of the cheerleaders, their boyfriends and the rest of their gang. They welcomed you with unexpected sincerity, and that was that.
You started going to house parties on Saturdays, diners on Wednesday nights with the girls, study sessions with some of the basketball team that couldn't quite pass a class or two. People waved at you in the halls, remembering your name for once. You and Chrissy would have sleep overs, and you felt the hole in your heart that Nancy left slowly start to heal. More or less.
But then you got that stupid invite.
"Gotcha!" Chrissy closed your locker door, scaring you senseless.
"Jesus, Chris!" you stacked your books in your arms. She was smiling wide, as always, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What?" you said, a raised brow and half a smirk making its way across your lips.
"Before you say anything, just let me talk," she made tiny praying hands to her chest, puppy dog eyes gleaming. "Promise?"
"Okay," you sighed.
"There's a party this weekend, and we're all going, and we all really want you to come." You looked at her with raised brows, as if to say 'go on?'. "It's Steve Harrington's party."
You'd managed to avoid almost every one of Harrington's parties with some believable, and some not so believable, excuses in the past year since your surge in popularity. "I don't know, Chris, I'm so busy with college applications this weekend-"
"Who needs them!" she cried, "We all know you're gonna get into Yale or Hardvard or Brown or whichever super crazy smart college you want to go to." She grabbed your hand, swaying it back and forth, like a child begging their mother for a candy bar at the grocery store. "Pretty please?" she did the puppy eyes again, knowing it would sway you to agree.
"Yay! I'll come to your house at nine tomorrow to get you!"
And that's how you found yourself in your old bullies house, red solo cup in hand, full of whatever lethal punch one of the football players had concocted. Already tipsy, lingering by the kitchen so that the constant stream of drinks wouldn't slow. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the ruckus of the back yard where people were throwing each other into Steve Harrington's large pool. You sipped on your drink thoughtfully, feeling the confidence built over the last year slip away from you as you returned to your old wallflower state.
"Why are you hiding in here, silly?" Chrissy came to your side, the shimmery pink eyeshadow on her lids making her green eyes luminous in the low light of the kitchen. "The gang's all next door, come on!" She grabbed your hand with surprising strength, dragging you into the large living room. Deep sofas lined the walls, each with a basketball player and their girlfriends curled up on one. On the one furthest from you, was Nancy and Steve. Next to them, Tommy and Carol. It made your stomach turn to see her with him. You avoided her persistent gaze. But Harrington's gaze, raking you in and eyes darting up and down, was harder to lose. He stared at you adamantly.
When the buzz of chatter died down, a few of the basketball players and their girlfriends left to find more entertaining activities, it was just a handful of people left in the living room. Including you, Nance and Steve. Tommy had the glint of wicked amusement in his eyes, and it made you uncomfortable. "I know what we should do," he said, eyes falling to you. "Let's play a little game." Carol perked up beside him, as if their minds were connected in some twisted way. "Yeah, let's do something fun."
"Games, come on guys," Jason, Chrissy's boyfriend, spoke up. "We're not in middle school anymore." Carol got her own wicked smile.
"Oh, certainly not." her eyes fell on you , analysing how your style had changed. You were wearing dark make up, smoking out your eyes and giving them an alluring pull. You showed off skin, knew how to present yourself. Her eyes narrowed, her smile a venomous sneer. "No, if this were middle school, I wouldn't be caught dead at a party with her."
You simply cocked your head to the side, giving carol a tight lipped sarcastic smile. Inside, you felt thirteen again. Instinctively, you grabbed your elbow, as if you could feel the pain of the break there now. Tommy barked out a laugh at Carol's comment. "Yeah, who knew the black sheep would turn into a black swan, huh?"
You felt gross as he raked his eyes over you, unashamed as he stared at the place where the hem of your dress ended.
"Fuck off, Tommy." you retorted, voice calm but heart racing a million miles a minute behind your ribcage. You felt like you were a lamb on a platter for the lions, ready for the slaughter.
"She speaks!" Carol squawked. Next to them on the couch, Nancy squirmed. Never one for confrontation, she excused herself to grab a drink. You caught her eye as she left. She looked guilty. You wanted to follow her, grab her by the shoulders and tell her to wake up. Tell her that her friends, and her boyfriend, were assholes. But she never listened before. She just couldn't admit it to herself.
"Been a while since we've seen you, babe. Where've you been hiding those legs, huh?" Carol smacked her gum as she spoke, obnoxious and loud.
"I found some better people to hang out with." Beside you, Chrissy stuck her arm over your shoulder. Her face was hard. It made her look older, the serious glare that she was sending Carol. Carol sneered at her, and the expression aged her terribly.
Steve caught your eye, shifted hard away from Tommy. He was gripping his beer with a tight knuckled grip. His eyes slithered down your neck, over your chest, and landed similarly to Tommy's. You grabbed the hem of your dress and yanked downward.
"One of the cool kids now, are you? Not following Wheeler around like a dog anymore?" Tommy took a long sip of his beer.
"We drifted apart." you said simply.
"Oh yeah? Since when?" Carol chimed in again and you felt your blood boil beneath your skin. Steve continued his obvious oggling.
"Since she traded her spine for a shiny new basketball player"
Nancy stood by the door, drink in hand. Her eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights. The whole group erupted into astonished laughter, Chrissy struggling to hold back as she clutched her stomach. Steve glared at the floor, as if willing it to say a comeback that would sting you back. Nancy sat down beside him, silent.
"Woah, you gonna take that Wheeler?" Carol guffawed.
She remained silent as a mouse at Steve's side.
"Nance was never one for speaking up anyway. "
You grabbed your cup and flittered out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time. Drink secured, and obscenely strong, you crept up the stairs to the second floor. Once you found a room that didn't stink of puke or had two people sucking face in, an ensuite bathroom, you locked the door and sat in the tub.
Shutting the shower curtain, doc martens resting on the taps, you lit your cigarette. You still couldn't believe you were in Steve Harrington's house - let alone one of his bathtubs - after everything that went down all those years. Yet there you were. Nancy lost to the dark side, you in with the cool kids. Your middle school self wouldn't believe it. You rested your eyes for a moment, breathing in the smoke and taking gentle sips of your drink.
Your thoughts were interrupted by muffled yelling in the next room. You stubbed out your cigarette, trying to get out of the tub as quietly as possible, when you heard your name. It was Steve and Nancy, and they were fighting. About you.
"Why are you bringing this up now?" Steve said, exasperated.
"You guys were awful to her, Steve!"
"Yeah, like you did anything about it, huh Nance?"
You recoiled back into the tub, feeling invasive but caring more about what Nancy had to say for herself than your moral compass. It was a years' worth of pain cementing your form in the tub, ear preened toward the doorway.
"You tormented her!"
"And you watched! If anything, that's worse!"
"How is that worse than what you, YOU, did to her Steve?!
There was a pause. You could imagine Nancy's face; pouted lips, furrowed brow, cheeks blotchy from an ill-fated attempt to hold back her angry tears. Steve laughed humourlessly. It was a cutting sound, and you could hear Nancy take deep breaths.
"What we did, sure, it was stupid. Do I regret it? Of course, we never meant to get her hurt back then."
"You're still awful to her!"
"And there's the kicker," Steve chuckled darkly. "She always stuck up for herself. That's why we did it, we knew she'd give us some fun." There was a long moment where no one spoke. "You never stood up for her once, Nancy."
His words hung in the air like smoke, seeping into your clothes and clogging your throat.
"You never defended her, then or now."
Nancy was flustered, stuttering over her words.
"You never stood up for your best friend? Thats...awful, Nance."
You could hear as Nancy struggled to find a defence, as she used to with you. She would blubber to you, relaying how guilty she felt with enough tears that you eventually ended up comforting her, forgetting that you'd even come to her for help.
"Fuck you, Steve." You could hear as she grabbed her things, storming out of the room with vibrant language. The loud declaration that "it was fucking over" made a laugh - vindictive and partly delighted - rise in your chest.
You smacked a hand over your mouth in realisation. Your movements froze, fear jolting through your bones as you heard Steve pattering about the next room. His movements stopped abruptly as your foot knocked a bottle of shampoo off the edge of the tub.
In a split second - idiotic- decision, you decide to make a run for it. You rip back the curtain, jumping to the floor and striding for the door, the door you had so stupidly locked. A warm hand grabbed your wrist in a vice like grip.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
His voice was low, deep. It echoed in your chest. It made your heart thump. It made your blood boil.
"Get your hand off me." you seethed. His grip remained, making the skin of your wrist tingle. His touch was firm yet feather light. Unwilling to let you go, but not trying to hurt you. When his hand remained unmoving, you struggled against his grasp. "Get off, Steve."
He was leaning over you, shoulder blocking the door. He hovered above you, taunting, as he looked you over again. His gaze was relentless, inescapable. Confusing.
"Let go, Steve." You sighed out, defeated and embarrassed as he held you in place. You felt unnervingly calm. Strangely glued to the floor under his honey brown eyes as they bored into your own. You wanted nothing more than to move your feet - maybe stomp on his own so he would release the grip on your hand- and get out of the claustrophobic bathroom. You risked a glance up at the boy.
Steve was never unattractive. Never had an awkward phase. He was always tall, athletic and tanned. Your hatred for the boy hadn't blinded you to the painfully obvious. But in the dim green light of the bathroom, shadows accentuating sharp cheekbones and jawline, you saw it. Saw it as the other girls did. Steve Harrington was gorgeous. He was painfully attractive, in every sense of the word. From the symmetrical lines of his cupids bow to the dark lashes framing honey eyes, he was hypnotic. And he had you completely under his spell.
"How much of that did you hear?"
His voice was aggravatingly quiet, gentle. Intoxicating. There was a gap between the two of you, small enough that you could feel the warmth of Steve's breath on your cheek as he spoke. You felt like a child being scolded by a parent, guilt driving you to complete honesty. It was the same tone that would make you confess to a teacher, had the same soft lilt.
"Enough." You replied, and your voice was hoarse. Rough, like you needed water desperately. You did, you felt as though your throat was bone dry. "Enough to hear you chew out Nancy."
Steve's eyes were inexplicably soft as he looked at you, and at the mention of Nancy they hardened almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, well," he sighed, languid and frustrated, "that was gonna happen, no matter if it was about you or not." When you raised as brow - both in shock at his willingness to detail the state of his relationship, and as a sign to continue- he went on. "All we do is fight."
"Karma came and bit you both in the ass."
The look Steve gave you made you feel bad for saying it, but it was overruled by the vindictive joy you felt at hurting his feelings. The way he backed up slightly, as if he'd not expected you to say something, made your heart jolt a bit. He'd been so awful to you for so long that the knowledge of his relationship being far from perfect made a smile creep its way across your lips.
Steve huffed, frustrated again.
"You are incredibly hard to understand." He said, the same sickeningly sweet voice at play. "You're very different...to how you used to be."
"You mean I'm not a loser anymore?" You quirked a brow.
"You were never a loser," he stepped closer to you, hand still on yours. "You were just...," he trailed off. His gaze was unashamed, staring straight down at your lips as he spoke. "Different."
'What a crock of shit,' you thought. This coming from the guy that bullied you all throughout middle school, even through high school. it was the biggest load of bullshit you'd ever heard. But your ears rang with the rush of blood behind your ears as your heart hammered inside your chest. Steve Harrington was a flirt, and a good one. You were experiencing his best lines. And they were working.
"Different?" there was hardly any space between the two of you now, Steve's lips brushing over yours as he shifted. You didn't stop him when his hand brushed your sides.
"Yeah," the hand that had been holding your wrist against the doorknob came up to cup your cheek. Steve's top lip was on yours as he spoke, "different."
The two of you crashed together with teeth and lips, a brawl of desperate hands and angry grudges. Fingers tangled in hair immediately, tugging and scratching. Steve tasted of smoke, beer and something innately Boyish. His hands settled at your waist, grasping the fabric of your dress there. His lips were pillowy and soft, addictive. You suddenly understood why Nancy put up with it; kissing Steve Harrington was like having your own personal drug. The kiss deepened as you shifted heads, turning for better angles and access.
Steve groaned as his tongue slid across yours, and the way he so clearly enjoyed the kiss made you feel powerful. He backed you up against the bathroom counter. "Jump," he whispered, your bottom lip between his teeth as he nipped the skin there. You did as he said, his voice husky and hypnotic, and he lifted you to rest on the sink. Legs parted, Steve rested between your open knees. One hand resting there, one working on shrugging you out of the jacket that clung to your shoulders. He pulled away from you, an amused smirk on his face as you whined, to rip the jacket away. Shoulders and neck exposed, Steve got to work on the skin there.
You were suddenly way more aware of what you were doing.
"You better not leave a mark, Harrington." you panted out, as Steve nipped a particularly sweet spot just below your ear. He chuckled, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.
"Why?" he asked, smug lilt to his words. "Afraid of people knowing?"
"More ashamed than afraid," you said, choking on your words as Steve nipped at the skin of your throat. "Can't have people thinking just anyone can have me."
Steve pulled back, and god you melted right there. Hair a mess, eyes blown wide, and lips swollen. It was a glorious sight. "And I'm just anyone?" He was smug, overconfident. Irritatingly attractive.
"Yeah," you gripped the belt loops of his jeans, yanking forward. The bewildered look on his face made you grin. "so this stays between us."
"Aye aye, Captain."
And off you went again, lips colliding in heated snarls. There was a primal anger behind it, driving you into his strong arms as he encased you. Was this self sabotage? Maybe so, but it was the hottest thing you'd ever experienced. Steve's nimble fingers caressed their way up your back, finding the straps of your bra with ease. He snapped one against your shoulder, making you yelp and using the sound to slip his tongue back into your mouth. If it didn't make your bones feel like jelly, you would have chastised him for the cheap move. Carnal desire taking over your mind, you let your cold hands scrape up his chest, lifting the hem of his shirt to graze his stomach.
He tensed up at the touch, a stuttered breath fanning your face as he sighed. His two hands landed firm on your knees, creeping up your legs and stopping as he stroked your inner thigh with his forefingers.
"Permission to come aboard?"
You nodded, arousal coursing through you like a stake to the heart.
"Words, please...Captain."
"You find yourself funny, don't you?"
"Very." His fingers were so close yet so far from where you wanted them. "Do you want to?"
"Yes, I do."
"There we go."
He kissed you again, this time slow. It was harder than before, and as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, Steve slipped your underwear down your legs. He groaned into the kiss as he felt you, excitement clear by the wet patch on your panties. "God, you're wet."
You should have been embarrassed. You should have pulled your panties off the floor and run out of the house and all the way home without looking back. But you were putty in his hands as Steve slipped a finger inside of you, hooking upwards and finding that special spot almost immediately. A high pitched whine - one that shocked even you- made its way out of your mouth, muffled as you buried your head in Steve's neck as he set a slow pace. "What a pretty sound," he groaned, catching your face in his hand as you threw it back against the mirror. "You gonna keep making 'em like that?"
You nodded, breathless, and then he was out of your sight.
Steve kissed down your chest, shoving your dress over your stomach and kissing the skin as he went down. His fingers intwined with yours as they gripped the marble counter. You sat up to catch his eye, and what a pretty sight it was. Steve Harrington, pupils dilated with lust, with his head between your thighs. He kissed your thighs, and you mewled; so close yet so far.
"Please," you moaned. Embarrassment crept up on you, and you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "God, please Steve."
Steve dug his fingers into the skin of your thighs, toying with them. He kissed his way to your knees, enjoying the sight before him as you writhed about. "Please what?" he said, and had you not been desperate for him to bury his head between your legs you would have kicked him. He grinned as you fought the urge to beg. "What do you want?" He left surprisingly tender pecks to your knee.
"I want you."
"Where do you want me?" he was taking his time with you, partly for himself - savouring the moment, rejoicing in the way you fell apart before him- and partly to tease you into insanity.
"Jesus Christ," you groaned as he nipped the supple skin of your thighs.
"Steve is just fine." He laughed, putting you out of your misery as he licked one broad stripe up your centre. It was the stupidest, most reckless thing you could be doing, which made it even hotter as Steve hooked his hands under your hips, holding you on top of the counter as your legs wrapped round his head and your hands wove themselves into his hair. Almost immediately you understood Steve's reputation, and you felt a pang of possessiveness as his lips encased your clit, humming as he went. Your back arched off the tiles, mouth agape in a silent 'O' shape. Harrington knew what he was doing, that much was clear as your first orgasm crept up on you.
You could hardly muster words, the only sound in the jade coloured bathroom being the obscene wet sounds and your whimpers as Steve continued to ruin you on the counter. "I'm gonna - oh shit, Steve." The way you moaned his name - like it was the only one you knew, the only one that mattered- made Steve's jeans feel impossibly tight, palming himself for something, anything to relieve himself. He was just as desperate, just as wanting, as you were - if not more. The thought of what was to come made you clench around Steve's fingers, exploding in a white hot scream on his tongue. You fell back against the mirror, hairs sticking to the sides of your face, cheeks flushed with both heat and bashfulness. Steve crept up your stomach again, stealing a kiss when he made it to your lips.
You could taste yourself as he kissed you, slow and deep. His hands swiped the hair from your face, in a gesture entirely too sweet for a boy that had just ravaged you in his bathroom. It bothered you. That wasn't part of the interaction - there was no sweetness involved. It almost took you out of the moment, but as your hips bucked into Steve's, and he let out a strangled groan, the moment was saved. As his lips found purchase on your collarbones, your hands made work of unbuttoning his shirt - purposefully slow, you enjoyed watching his stomach tense as you grazed it. The sharp intake of breath as you began unbuckling his belt made you feel powerful, made your stomach do flips. "Here?" you asked, kissing down his neck to the space where it met his shoulders, "or somewhere else?"
Steve's eyes lit up like a christmas tree at the prospect that this - whatever this was- wasn't over just yet. He gripped your hands on his belt buckle. "Not here." With little effort, he hoisted you over his shoulder - much to your shock and dismay. You swatted his back but couldn't help the swell of arousal as his arm tightened round your waist. He set you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you with one hand on your cheek. In the dim light of his bedroom, Steve Harrington was devastatingly handsome. The soft glow of peaches and oranges made his eyes a molten chocolate, skin peppered with a red hue from...exertion.
"It's rude to stare." he said, voice void of the smugness from before. It made your ribcage rattle, heart thudding with the weight of his stare. It felt like he was looking at your soul, and it made you shiver. The boy who'd tormented you for years, was seeing you. Staring right back at him, your hands made their way to his belt loops. It was your turn to make him writhe a bit.
"Can't help it," you said, voice all airy and entirely foreign to your ears. It dripped with a lust, husky and soft. "You're somewhat of a looker."
You ripped his jeans open, nimble hands ridding him of the garment in seconds. As you grabbed the waistband of his boxers, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric, his hand stopping you. "As amazing as that would be," he said regrettably, "if I don't get you on that bed, I think I may lose my mind." He said it so breathlessly that it made your thighs clench together. He wanted you so badly. You cocked your head to the side, half playful and half serious as you said, "Do something about it then."
Steve didn't need to be told twice. He dove into you, hand steadying your head as your lips locked together - an irritatingly perfect puzzle piece finding another. You were a tangle of legs, arms, and lips as the two of you buried yourselves in Steve Harrington's bed, ridding each other of the clothes that stopped your from touching one another completely. His knee found its home between you, shifting your legs apart to make room for hips. You were encased in Steve; his scent, the feel of his lips on your skin, his legs locking yours in place. His hips rocking into yours as he kissed your neck with sinful skill.
Your hands grew restless, tugging at the hairs at the nape of his neck as if he would understand the morse code in the pulling. "Steve," you groaned as he knocked his hips into yours, "please."
You were begging, and you were embarrassed. You couldn't bring yourself to say the words- couldn't stand the thought of asking your middle school bully to fuck you in his bed at his own party. But the boy had other ideas.
"Say it." he toyed with your clit, thumbing it as you whined. When you stayed silent, he pinched one of your nipples between his fingers. he smirked at how quickly they puckered underneath him. "Say you want me."
Your cheeks burned with shame. You couldn't - wouldn't- beg him.
He hovered over you, hands either side of your head, nose brushing yours. You could feel the ghost of his lips over your own. His hand came to rest on your chin, thumb sliding over your lip, tugging it down and letting it slide back. "Open."
You did as he said, opening your mouth wide enough for Steve to slide his thumb into your mouth, a teasing smile on his face as you swirled your tongue around it. "Say you want me to fuck you." He pulled his thumb out of your mouth slowly, grinning as it made a satisfying pop. He leaned down to the shell of your ear. "Tell me you want me to ruin you," he whispered.
The burn in the pit of your stomach raged as Steve kissed the hollow of your throat, waiting for you to speak. Your breath was shallow, eyes closed as you whispered into the air, hoping the buzz of the party below would swallow your words.
"I want you to ruin me."
Steve grinned, wolfish and smug, as he lined himself up with you, locking eyes with you as he pushed himself in. You knew you were gone when he moaned your name like a prayer, said it like it was the cure to his troubles. Like you were something to treasure. One strong arm gripped the headboard as he panted. "God," he grunted out, "you feel incredible."
There was something electric about hearing praise from the boy that tormented you for years, something wickedly delightful about watching his mouth hang open with pleasure as he bottomed out inside you. You clenched around him, desperate for any friction to satisfy the burning between your legs. "Can I move?" he groaned.
"Yes, please."
In public, Steve was an athlete. Behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was an Olympian. He set a fast pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, deeper inside of you every time. The sounds of the party- the drunken teens stumbling, the music blaring- were drowned out by the slapping of skin on skin, of your whines and Steve Harrington's moans as you fell apart beneath him.
"Shitshitshit- man, you're amazing." he moaned as he rutted into you. You were frozen in pleasure, mouth open from silent screams of pleasure. You bit your lip, so hard you would have tasted blood had Steve not being everything you felt in that moment. "Oh, fuck," you groaned at a particularly deep thrust, "I'm s-so close."
"Me too," Steve whimpered, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you'd ever heard. "Where should I-"
"I'm on the pill." you sputtered out.
Steve's eyes darkened, delighted at the permission, determined to get you to your peak before he fell apart himself. "Yeah? You gonna let me come inside?" His hand reached between your conjoined bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Gonna come for me?"
Your back arched off the mattress, the coil in your stomach snapping at the same time Steve collapsed on top of you, his stuttering as he came. You both panted, recovering from the exertion. Rolling over onto his back, you and Steve stared at the ceiling, the weight of what you had done sinking in.
It was wrong, so wrong. He'd just broken up with Nancy, seconds before you let him crawl between your legs. You would have felt terrible, like you'd betrayed her, had it not been so good.
You would have felt guilty, had you not felt the shake of your legs still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm.
Steve turned his head to face you. You turned to look at him.
"I'm sorry about how I treated you, before."
You snorted.
"You don't have to apologise just because we had sex, Steve." The ridiculousness of it made you laugh. "Thanks, though." You were both silent for a while, just laying there. You tried spying your clothes across the room. "Where's my underwear?"
"Oh," Steve mumbled, getting up from the bed and into the bathroom. You couldn't help but stare at his retreating form, back muscles flexing as he stretched. You did the same, a soreness washing over you. Steam filled the bathroom, the sound of the shower running loud against the dying party below. Steve returned in his jeans, smirking as pulled your lavender lace panties from the back pocket, tossing them at you. You caught them with one hand.
"Perv," you said, sliding them back up your legs. Steve smiled from the bathroom doorway. He was looking at you that way again. It made your stomach uneasy. "What?" you said.
"You can, uh, clean up here. If you want." He scratched the back of his neck. He gestured to the shower. You stomach flipped again. You rose from the bed, using the sheet to cover your chest. You stopped in front of Steve, who was struggling not to look down at your loosely covered front.
"This is not a thing, okay?" you said slowly, as if saying the words aloud would make them true. As if hearing them from your own lips would stop the way your lips yearned for Steve's the second they left your own. "This goes nowhere else."
Steve nodded, mockingly serious.
"Aye aye, Captain."
He grabbed your hand, making you drop the sheet, and led you into the steam filled bathroom. You let him wash your skin, all soap and too much affection given who he was to you. You didn't stop him when he kissed below your eye, on your nose, or when he placed an all too tender kiss on your lips for just a second. But it was long enough. You let him wrap you in a towel, drying you with gentle hands. You didn't object when he dressed you in his old basketball shorts and a tattered sweatshirt. You let him tuck you under his sheets, didn't flinch away when he tucked your hair behind your ear.
You let him wrap his arm over your waist when he returned, having kicked the last stragglers out of the house. You let yourself fall asleep in his bed, warm and soft and all too inviting, much like its inhabitant.
What you wouldn't do was let yourself fall for this, you thought. You wouldn't fall for Steve Harrington. Wouldn't fall for his moves, his overused lines. Wouldn't get wrapped up with the wrong guy.
But as morning came, and you turned to see Steve already looking at you, that look on his face, you thought that maybe it was too late. And by the looks of Steve Harrington, it was too late for him as well.
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ivmaruva · 2 days
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Day 50
An intimate kiss
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crimxonwrites · 1 day
Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Prologue
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☽➛ Summary: Nothing satietes Maehrys Velaryon's hunger as well as revenge. Growing up at the Red Keep as the bastard of Rhaenyra Targaryen did not come trouble-free. Her childhood consisted of bitter words and repulsive looks from nearly everybody in the castle. As she grew older, Maehrys grew meaner. Once the Velaryons return to King's Landing to defend Luke's claim as Lord of Driftmark, Maehrys decides that it is time for the people who hurt her in the past to pay.
☽➛ Warnings: heavy mentions of self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!
☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC (slowburn enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)
☽➛ Word count: 1.5k
!!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!
29th of October, 112 AC
Maehrys Velaryon’s birthing took place during the full moon of the second month of autumn at the Red Keep in King’s Landing. The air was colder than usual, and her hair colour reflected that; dark and cool but not icy, like her mother’s. The little babe could not comprehend how her birth would impact Rhaenyra’s life, and how much trouble her pitch-dark locks would bring her.
She was born a silent babe; Rhaenyra’s labour was short and less painful than the labour of her firstborn, Jacaerys Velaryon. Her birthday would be the last day Maehrys would be silent.
Maehrys Velaryon, age 6
The pig’s oinking became louder as she approached the dragon pit. The massive room was as gloomy as she remembered and the air became thick, almost suffocating her. Jace, Aegon and Luke were snickering at Aemond’s facial expression. They tricked him.
“Looks like you cannot claim a dragon either.” The little girl smiled, in an attempt to comfort her uncle, who has fallen victim to Jace and Aegon’s joke, again.
“I will claim the biggest dragon one day.” Aemond did not make eye contact with his niece. “Unlike you.” He turned to face the girl. “Dragons do not like bastards.” Aemond’s voice was resentful and not even the dragon pit’s darkness could hide his disgusted facial expression.
Her brothers and her other uncle left the dragon pig swiftly and left the two of them alone.
“I am not a bastard!” The girl shrieked as her vision started to blur because of the tears. Regardless of her lack of knowledge about the word, she understood that the word had a negative connotation behind it and her uncle did not imply it as a compliment.
“Out of my way, bastard.” Aemond pushed her, causing Maehrys to lose balance and fall.
As she laid there, in the dragon pit, she could only hear the faint noises of the pig. The girl wondered why her uncle held so much hatred towards her. She wondered what bastard meant, and why it seemed like everyone was whispering it behind her back lately.
Maehrys Velaryon, age 8
Maehrys turned over the page about dragons and continued her lecture about the oldest and biggest dragon: the Cannibal. Cannibal is stated to be the eldest of all the wild dragons and was even older than Sheepstealer. His scales are as black as coal and his eyes are glowing green, fuelled by menace. The smallfolk of Dragonstone named the beast Cannibal because he would feast with dragon eggs, smaller dragons and even corpses of dragons. She caressed her fingers on the page depicting a picture of Cannibal. The girl did not appreciate how the author of the book was labelling the dragon as a beast. She did not think of him as a beast, but rather as a dream. She never would have thought that she will relate to a wild dragon this much; the smallfolk were clearly afraid of him and casted him aside instead of trying to form a bond with the majestic dragon.
Maehrys Velaryon decided that she will grow up to tame the biggest and eldest wild dragon to have ever existed: the Cannibal.
“You are not allowed to be here.” Aemond’s voice startled the young princess. The prince began to walk towards her, eyeing the book she was holding. “The wild dragons of Westeros.” He read the title and laughed, snatching the book out of her small hands.
“Give it back!” Maehrys exclaimed, but Aemond raised his hand, for her not to reach the book. The height difference was noticeable because the prince was already going through his growing phase, making it even more gruelling for her to reach the book. Aemond was not as tall as Aegon, but Maehrys was struggling still.
“You are not to read about dragons, bastard.” He said, looking down on her. “Go back to your unhatched eggs.”
“Give it back, uncle!” The princess was holding back tears. She tried jumping, and even contemplated touching his arm, but dismissed the thought completely in fear of Aemond hurting her again. “Please!”
“Fine.” Aemond let go of the heavy book, which landed on her feet.
The princess cried in pain as the book made contact with her right foot. She collapsed to the ground, tears falling down her cheeks.
If she had a dragon, no one would dare to hurt her any longer.
Ser Harwin Strong would seize the Velaryon steel blade out of the young girl’s hands. “Seven hells, what do you think you are doing?” He asked, taking her bleeding arm into his hand. The knight looked in horror at the open wound.
The eight-year-old Maehrys whimpered as pain took control of her body. She did not want to live anymore. She wanted her existence in the castle to cease, she wanted to leave this world forever. The young girl was exhausted of hearing the words “bastard”, “dark haired”, “illegitimate”. Poisonous whispers would invade her ears day by day, and she grew envy of the dead; the dead could not hear, could not feel, could not cry. She was tired of her uncles’ endless taunting, and at times, physical assault. She wanted to disappear.
She wished her grandfather, the King, would sentence her to death and let her rest peacefully.
Her grandfather was selfish.
“Maehrys!” Rhaenyra’s voice was breaking, as was her heart. “Fetch me the maester!”
Maehrys could not understand why she didn’t pierce deeper. She hesitated because she was weak. She felt at peace when her eyes fell heavy and her breathing slowed.
Maehrys Velaryon, age 8
The young princess mourned her father, Laenor, her aunt Laena and her only friend, Harwin Strong. People started to drop dead suddenly, and she understood that there is a chance that her time might come, sooner or later. Perhaps sooner, following that disaster that happened at Driftmark, when her younger brother Luke took one of Aemond’s eyes.
 Life is precious, people get very little of it lately. Was one of the last things she heard from ser Harwin, and she wished she had never heard it before. Maehrys could not fully comprehend what went wrong with the attempt on taking her life, but she was somehow grateful for it.
“Mother.” The girl approached Rhaenyra, who was tending to the wound caused by the mean Queen Alicent on her lower arm. Maehrys raised the sleeve of the dress and placed her arm next to Rhaenyra’s. “Look, we are the same.”
“Oh, child.” Rhaenyra sighed and wrapped her arms across the young princess, pulling her into a tight hug despite the throbbing pain in her left arm.
 She could not understand why her mother weeps so often, but she chose to believe that Rhaenyra’s crying was a happy one. Happy that they were the same, despite their hair colour being different and despite what other folk were whispering about them.
Maehrys Velaryon, age 12
“Enough!” Ser Criston Cole shouted as he pushed the young girl on the frigid ground. “I do not wish to harm you anymore, princess!” He exclaimed when he saw her struggling.
The girl spat blood as she pushed the sword in the muddy ground. Her muscles were spasming and her head was throbbing, but she did not listen to Ser Criston. With the help of her sword, she slowly got up. The right sleeve of her tunic rolled up a little bit, but just enough for him to see the two-year-old scar on her lower arm. A reminder that there was once a time when the princess wished to live no longer. “Our training session is not over.” She said, raising the sword, in spite of her sore body. The sharp edge was facing a very sorrowful Criston Cole.
“I yield.” Ser Criston threw his sword on the ground and raised his arms, as a sign of defeat. The cold, heavy autumn rainfall made it difficult for him to see her face clearly, but he could sense her exasperated disposition.
“Pick up your sword.” Her voice was guttural from all the blood coating her throat. When she realized ser Criston had no intention of following her order, she shouted: “I command you to pick up your sword!”
The princess was young, but old enough to demand of her mother to let her train with the strongest of knights. After the failed attempt of taking her own life, she decided to start training every day, in hopes that she would defeat Aemond in combat one day. Not only Aemond, but Aegon too; and ser Criston Cole, and the mean Queen, and everyone who would dare to call her a bastard.
If she couldn’t be one of them, she would become so, so much worse.
☽➛A/N: Hi! Sorry for being gone for so long, I've been doing uni work and binging game of thrones/house of the dragon. I've had this idea for a fanfic for quite a while now so I finally decided to publish it. !!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!
Also read on: AO3 | Wattpad
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soapyghost · 2 days
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Wordcount: 3.3k Warnings: Smut, language, inappropriate relationship with your superior, pet names, f! gendered reader, slight hypoxyphilia, p in v, unprotected sx, cream pie, fingering, probably more so sorry if i forgot some. A/N: I really wanted to write a lil enemies to lovers Ghost x Reader so enjoy. Also this is not really proofread just pure horny on main. Enjoy! Tag list: @tomhollandisabae, @confuseddipshit,
You were never one for teams, you preferred to be alone. It was easier that way. Nobody to fuck up the mission. Maybe it stems from the fact that your parents died and left you at the tender age of 3 to the mercy of the Mob. They died before they could pay their dues, or maybe died because of it, and you were the payment. It didn’t matter to you any way. The Mob became your family. From the day they died up until your faction of the Mob was taken down you were trained to be the best assassin. Your tiny frame and pretty face made it all the more easier, nobody suspected the Mob to send a little girl to collect. As you grew up and began to really hone your craft, luring men in and ending their life before they even knew what happened. This is how you earned your nickname, Mantis.
“Mantis, sit rep” the gravely voice of your Captain comes through the earpiece and snaps you out of your thoughts. You roll your eyes, “I’m alive”, back pressed against the wall of some shitty club, eyes scanning the smokey room for your target. After the raid on the Mob, it was either a life in prison or a life of service to Task Force 141 and you were too pretty for prison. You surmise they were impressed by the sheer number of men you’d taken down in your short life. At 21 you were the youngest on the team, but far from the least experience.
“Don’t think he’s showing Cap” you muse while sipping on your drink, some shitty mocktail because they team refused to let you drink on the job. Little did they know you did some of your best work while tipsy, words flowed easier from your lips while the warmth of alcohol flows through you. But for the sake of playing nice you promised you wouldn’t drink on recon missions, but only recon. “You’re right. Rendezvous at the safe house in 30” Price sighs.
Your team really isn’t so bad, it’s not your family but they’ll do. They were wary of you when you were first brought to base, but they all warmed up quickly; you still haven’t gotten completely comfortable with them but you fit into the team almost perfectly. Almost. There was one hiccup, your Lieutenant, Ghost. No matter how hard the team tried, neither of you liked each other. Maybe it’s because you came from crime, maybe it’s because you killed weak men. You’ve given up on trying to play nice with him. There have been more than a few screaming matches that have ended with Price and Soap pulling you two into separate rooms. Thank god, you think to yourself, he wasn’t sent out on this mission. You unlock the door to the shitty run down ranch home that was your safe house for this mission and walk through the door and there he is. Ghost.
“What the fuck are you doing here” you spit at him. He’s sitting on the armchair in the living room smoking, mask still covering most of his face. “That’s no way to greet your Lieutenant, Princess” he responds. There’s that god awful nickname. He’s taken to calling you a Princess because “you act like one” he claims. You’d become accustom to nice things in the Mob, so the shock of suddenly being thrust into the military was quite the change for you. “Oh fuck off Simon” his name coming off your tongue with nothing but hatred. This man has made your transition nothing but hell, having you run extra laps, do more pushups and spend hours on the range perfecting your shot. Nothing was ever good enough for him. “Where is Price?” you snap, noticing his bag is gone from house. “Had another mission to go on, so they sent me” his voice laced with resent. He didn’t want to be there, at least you had that in common. “I could do this on my own, go home” you say, tossing your expensive coat on the couch near him and unclipping your hair from its updo. Kicking your heels in his direction, “did you at least bring me something to eat?” You ask pointedly. He grunts and motions to the kitchen where some takeout waits for you.
After you devour the cheap greasy takeout that Simon had grabbed, you walk back out of the kitchen and saunter past him. “Going to bed, you get the couch LT” you smirk. He nods, more interested in whatever rerun is playing from the TV than you. You roll your eyes, and turn around to go down the hall when a thought enters your mind. A wry smile creeps up on your face as you reach for the zipper on the back of the dress you’re wearing. You make sure the sound of the zipper unzipping is loud enough for him to hear it and let the dress drop to the floor. If he was going to make this mission hell, you’d do the same thing. “Night Simon” you sing, as you turn your head back in his direction hoping to catch a glimpse of surprise in his eyes. But when you look back there isn’t an ounce of shock on his face, it’s something…darker. The look he gives you when he watches you run another lap or do 20 more pushups. His eyes black as night, not moving from yours. A huff of annoyance escapes you as you stride to the bedroom.
The next day you keep yourself cooped up in the bedroom until it’s mission start. The thought of being in the same room as Ghost makes your skin crawl. Why did he look at you like that, you muse as you apply makeup. Anger bubbles inside of you, he should be grateful. Spewing compliments at the meer glance he got at your body. But no, he just looked at you with the same superiority he always does. You slam the bottle of cheap perfume down on the counter and get dressed. A silent prayer that your target shows up today so you can get back to base and not spend another night with him.
“I’m going” you yell across the house as you put in your earpiece. Not waiting for a response, you grab your coat and slip into your heels, slamming the door on your way out. The cool air helps clear your mind, quell your anger. You were so having real liquor tonight. The walk to the club isn’t terribly far and before you realize it you’re at the door slipping past the line. As you walk into the club you leave your coat with the bouncer, thanking him with a kiss on the cheek. Works every time. You saunter to the bar and order yourself a vodka Redbull, if you had to be here all night you were going to need something to keep you up.
“I thought we agreed no drinking” ghost growls through the earpiece. “We- didn’t agree to shit” you mutter in response and grab your drink before the man next to you could offer to buy you a drink. Another night of sulking in the back, shooing off drunken suiters all while searching for your target. It’s simple enough of a mission, locate the target, get him alone and drug him to take him back to the safe house to get information. You’d been here almost a week now waiting on him to show up and you’re beginning to believe the intel is bogus.
You’re well into your 3rd drink when your target finally walks in. “He’s here” you breathe, almost not believing that he actually showed. Vladlen Adrik, 2nd in command of a Russian terrorist group. He’s a lot bigger than you thought, well over 6ft and 300lbs, with a bushy beard and beady eyes. "Game time Mantis, show me why the chose to spare you" Simon challenges you. Again, you roll your eyes at his comment. Taking a deep breath, you wander through the throngs of people dancing and spilling drinks on the dance floor towards VIP where Vladlen disappeared to. This is the only part of the plan that may go wrong, if Vladlen doesn't acknowledge your presence than you'll never get passed the bouncers of VIP. As you get close to the VIP area the bouncer puts out his arm to stop you, "This is off limits miss" he barks. "Awhh, but why" you whine, looking up at him with doe eyes. You say it rather loudly, hoping that Adrik heard you, and he does. "Alexsei" you hear him growl, "let the lady through". Alexsei lifts his hands up to chest and lets you through. Game on. "Thank youuuuu mister?" you lay on the thick accent of liquor to make it seem like you're a lot drunker than you are. "Vlad" he responds, lust dripping from his voice. Putting your hand on his chest "Well Vlad, looks like I owe you" you purr. He flinches slightly at your touch, "hmm I guess you do". "How ever can I repay you" you look up at him through your eyelashes. "I can think of a few ways" he says, pulling you into his lap. You let out a giggle as you thud against his thigh. You recognize most of the faces at the table as more members of the terrorist group, but none of them are paying you any mind. You lean into Vlad and snake your hands down to his very obvious erection, "oh?" you mewl in his ear. He suppresses a grunt of pleasure at your light touch. "Alexsei, get us a room would you" his shouts over you, and the minute he flicks his eyes off you and up to the bouncer you flick the drug into his drink. Men are so easy. Alexsei nods and goes to get the keys to a private room. Vlad takes a big swig of his drink and returns his gaze back to you and the little red dress you're wearing. Raising an eyebrow he asks, "is that alright with you kitten?". A giggle and a smile is all he needs to pull you up and walk you to the private room.
Everything is going exactly to plan as Vlad leads you to the very last private room in the hallway, which is right next to the emergency exit Ghost will be using to get in and help haul this giant of a man out. As Vlad goes to open the door he drops the keys, the drug working a little faster than intended. You bend over to pick them up for him and Vlad grabs your ass which makes you squeak in surprise. Grabbing the keys and regaining your composure you unlock the door for him and lead him into the room. He stumbles in and with one swift movement you shove him onto the bed. Soft snores escape his mouth and you know the hardest part of this mission is over. "Tango down" you murmur into the earpiece. Not a minute later your skull masked Lieutenant comes through the door. "Great job, kitten" he remarks. Rolling your eyes you walk over to Vlads unconscious body, "are you going to help me?" Ghost walks to the bed, a small chuckle escaping from behind his mask. "You really should stop rolling your eyes at people" he grunts lifting Vlad on his own. This is the closest you've ever been to Simon, he smells like cigarettes and sandalwood. The heat radiating from his body surprises you, you expected him to be just as cold as his heart. "Or what L.T?" you challenge. "One day you may get punished" he whispers, that same look in his eyes from last night.
Getting Vlad's body back to the safe house proves to be a little bit more difficult than expected and takes the better part of an hour to move him. Once you're both safely behind the doors of the house you finally take a breath, the mission went off without a hitch. Ghost grabs a chair from the kitchen and ties Vlad's hands behind his back and to the chair. Swiftly, he moves down to the ground and ties the mans feet to the chair. "I'm going to take a shower" you yell across the house, watching Ghost closely while he is on comms with base calling for evac. "Evac will be here in 3 hours, don't use all the hot water Princess" he yells back. You stop dead in your tracks, that damn nick name getting under your skin yet again. Turning to look at him directly, you reach behind you and unzip your dress again, letting it fall to your ankles before you step out of it and you roll your eyes before you turn back to go down the hallway to the bathroom.
Ghost's speed surprises you as you're not even 3 steps down the hall before he has caught up to you and shoved you against the wall. Your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of his hands on your neck and waist. It feels like your body is on fire, an inferno spreading through your skin and deep into your bones. "I told you to stop rolling your eyes at me" he growls into your ear. No one, certainly not a man has ever had the audacity to touch you like this and it turns your head into a foggy wasteland. You've lost all power in this situation and you know it, your heart beating so hard it might just come out of your ribcage. Suddenly you become acutely aware that you're in nothing but a bra and panties with your superior office pushing you up against a wall.
Your eyes dart up to meet his, dark and dangerous like the ocean. His breathing is heavy, like he's trying hold in some caged beast. "I told you, you would be punished" he whispers lustfully in your ear. "Bathroom, now" he commands, releasing you from his iron clad grip and spinning you towards the bathroom with a harsh smack on your ass that makes you gasp. Brain too foggy to disobey you head shakily to the bathroom, mind spinning on what's about to happen. You open the door and mindlessly turn on the shower. In moments Ghost is at the door in his too tight t-shirt and cargo pants, shedding his tactile gear in the hallway behind him. His eyes are watching your face as he slides off the mask.
The mask drops to the floor and you drink in the sight before you. Simon has never taken off his mask near you, he'd done so for the rest of 141 but never for you. He's absolutely stunning, dark ocean eyes, with a strong jawline and perfect cut brown hair. You drink in the sight of him like a man lost in the desert finding an oasis. This image of him forever seared into your mind. Before you have the chance to say something he rips off his shirt and charges towards you planting a heavy kiss on your lips. It's full of lust and just a bit of whiskey. Bourbon you note. He swiftly removes your bra clasp with one hand, the other is down massaging you through the thin lace panties. A moan escapes your mouth before you can stop it. This man has made the past few months of your life an absolute living hell and yet here he is, about to give you all the pleasure in the world.
His calloused hands immediately find your clit like he had a map of your body. You gasp as he rips your panties clean in half and begins to rub between your soaking folds. His other hand finds his belt and rips it off, unbuttoning his pants and letting them drop to the floor. You allow yourself a peak down at him and the sheer size of his cock causes you to lose your breath. There is no way that is going to fit. "Don't worry Princess, it'll fit" he chuckles as if reading your mind. He shoves you into the shower and up against the cool tile. The combination of the hot water and his burning touch isn't cooled by the feeling of the shower tile on your back, your whole body is on fire. You close your eyes trying to control the temperature of your body.
Suddenly you feel two fingers inside of your cunt causing you to suck in the steamy shower air. "Fuck" you hiss, the size of his two fingers alone makes you feel full. "You're absolutely soaked Princess" he muses, a smirk tugs on the corner of his lips. Your eyes fly open to and you're about to tell him to take this Princess shit and shove it up his ass when he slides a third finger in, causing every coherent thought to fly out of your head. Your thoughts are consumed with him and only him. "So beautiful" he mutters between heavy breaths.
"Ready Princess?" he asks, flipping you so your face up against the tile. Your brain still a muddy mess all you can do is wiggle your ass towards him in response, which makes him chuckle. "Such a needy girl" he muses. He slides his cock in-between your folds, teasing you as you grind yourself back further into him. He grabs onto the back of your neck to halt your movements as he slowly slides himself into you, "Good girl" he whispers into your ear. He's not even halfway in and you feel so full that you're going to burst. "Shit Simon" you moan, and that does something to him. The sound of his name coming out of your mouth full of lust and not hatred snaps every ounce of self control he has and he thrusts himself all the way into you. You slam your hand against the wall and let out a yelp.
He fucks you slow, methodical, like he's made a plan in his head and has to stick to it. It doesn't take much for the coil in your stomach to begin to tighten, and he can feel it in the fluttering of your walls. "Touch yourself for me Princess" he commands, voice breathless from the feel of you around him. At this point you're too cock dumb to disobey anything he says and you want to cum so badly that your hand darts down and begins slow circles on your clit in time with his thrusts. Seconds later the white hot coil snaps and you cum all over him as he fucks you through your orgasm whispering about how pretty you look taking his cock like this. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this" he growls into your ear.
Once he knows you've cum, his pace picks up. It becomes relentless, harsh almost painful but God does it feel amazing. You've never been fucked like this, never actually cum from being fucked and its got you so stupid. The hand around your neck tightens slightly and you begin to see stars as another orgasm creeps upon you. "Fuck Princess, you're so tight" he moans, and that's it takes for the coil to wind and snap. "Fuck Simon ohmygod" you scream, the pleasure completely blinding you. You hear what sounds like a growl come from his mouth as you feel him cum inside you, cock twitching as it spews his thick seed deep inside your womb. His head rests on your shoulder and you hear the sound of him panting. He flips you back around facing him, he wants to see that cock dumb look on your face. He smiles and kisses you, tongue slipping between your teeth and dancing around the cave of your mouth. He bites your bottom lip with one final harsh kiss and looks you in your eyes and says
"Fuckin' hell Princess, what hav' you done to me?"
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sainzfilm · 2 days
congrats on the 300 and I hope ur feeling better! just saw this on twt and thought it would be funny 💀 maybe for alex or danny ricc?
pairing: alex albon x reader
a/n: paging mr alex albon so i could propose this idea to him hehehe jk i love him and lily but he’s such a dream boy for me
“God, you’re so weak!” You slurred, poking Alex directly at the chest, “You can’t even handle alcohol well!”
Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes and setting his glass of whiskey down, “You can’t even speak without slurring.”
“You can’t speak without slurring,” You mocked him and downed another shot, “Such a loser, Albon.”
George chuckled as he leaned back against the sofa and watched the two of you bicker, “Have you ever thought about getting together?”
“That’s gross,” You pretend to gag and fixed your hair, “I’d rather be single than date him.”
“With your standards like that,” Alex took another sip from the glass before looking at you, “I believe you’re going to be single for a long time.”
“Then, I’d be fine with that,” You scoffed, crossing your arms and looking back at him, “You probably would be too.”
Looking away for a moment, Alex grinned as he turned back at you with a twinkle in his eye, “I have an idea.”
“Okay, what’s your great idea?”
“What if…we’re both single by 28,” Alex trailed off as he spoke, “We’ll get married.”
“Then let’s do it,” You hiccuped, reaching over to shake his hand and smiling mischievously, “We’ll probably forget about this.”
Staring across the restaurant as Alex walked out with a girl beside him, George nudged your shoulder and muttered, “You know you’re staring.”
“Shut up, George,” You shook your head, looking back to your phone, “I don’t care who he’s with.”
“Oh please, Y/N, I’ve known you since we’ve been in diapers,” He laughed, “Alex’s just getting back at you from what you pulled off last week.”
“Just because I went on a date with my co-worker?” You frowned, “That’s pathetic.”
“Pathetically in love with you,” George teased, poking your arm, “I don’t get why the two of you are so stubborn!”
“Shut up, Russell,” You gritted out, closing your book and grabbing the cap off his head, “I’m stealing your cap, goodnight.”
Walking away from George, who whined from his stolen cap, you couldn’t help to stop and think about what he said. Pathetically in love with you? That’d be absurd.
You kicked at the road as you walked back home to your apartment, which was relatively close by the restaurant you ate at. It was a few minutes until your birthday, which didn’t feel like it at all.
“Home sweet home,” You sighed as you opened your apartment and closed the door behind you, kicking off your shoes, “Can’t believe 28 is a few breaths away.”
Setting down your bag on the table, you walked to the kitchen and made a cup of tea as you hummed to yourself.
As you took a sip of your tea, you frowned upon hearing a knock on your door. You didn’t expect anyone to come by. Looking at the clock, you mumbled to yourself, “Happy 28th, Y/N.”
You walked back to the front door, checking the peephole to see Alex. What was he doing here?
Frowning upon opening the door, you raised an eyebrow and looked at him, “What brings you here, Alex?”
“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Alex smiled sheepishly, holding up a paper bag, “I have a few things to uh…celebrate your day.”
“Oh. Thank you. You didn’t have to but,” You mumbled, opening the door wider, “Come on in.”
Alex entered your apartment, taking his shoes off and heading off to the kitchen, “I brought you that cheesecake you like from the café down the block.”
“How’d you know that?” You followed after him, setting your mug down on the table, “Why are you here?”
“I told you, we’re celebrating your birthday,” He replied nonchalantly, placing a candle in the middle and lighting it with a match, “Come on, make a wish.”
“You’re so childish, Albon,” You mumbled, clasping your hands together and closing your eyes as he brought the cake up for you to make a wish, “All done.”
“What’d you wish for?” Alex teased, setting the cake down and slicing it, “I bet it was me.”
“Oh Jesus, of course not,” You laughed and shook your head, grabbing another mug and offering it to him, “I’m not telling you, it won’t come true.”
“I have to talk to you about something.”
You frowned, looking up at Alex, who seemed particularly serious, “What is it?”
“So we’re…both 28 now, it took pretty long from how far apart our birthdays are,” He trailed off, avoiding your gaze, “The pact still stands.”
“What pa- oh,” You replied, voice getting softer, “That…was real? I thought you were kidding.”
“No, why would I be?” He shrugged, taking a bite of the cheesecake slice, “I wouldn’t mind ending up with you.”
“Oh really? Then you go around bringing a girl every now and then,” You laughed, slapping his hand, “You do not get to eat my cake.”
“I could say the same to you!” Alex exclaimed, voice muffled from the cheesecake, “You’re always out on dates!”
“That’s because you won’t ask me out!” You threw your hands up, eyes widening in realization and covering your mouth, “Ah fuck.”
“I knew it, I should’ve listened to George,” He grinned, taking a few steps to stand in front of you, “Birthday girl likes me.”
“You’re insinuating you do too,” You mumbled, cheeks turning red from all sorts of emotions, “So, do we just…go with it?”
“Hm, not yet,” Alex shrugged, lacing his fingers with yours, “I think we should seal the deal.”
“With what?”
Alex pulled you closer, leaning in to kiss you softly on the lips that made your stomach do infinite flips from the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins.
“Deal sealed,” He mumbled, leaning his forehead against yours, “You’re stuck with me now.”
Rolling your eyes with a smile, “Just shut up and kiss me.”
bonus scene!
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Liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, and 473,374 others
yourusername 28 baby 🌈✨💟 thank u all for the birthday love :)
view all 291,747 comments
georgerussell63 IT’S ABOUT DAMN FUCKING TIME. also, happy birthday my best friend, you’re not dumb anymore ❤️
yourusername literally go fuck off, george 🙄 disowning you, alex is my new best friend
charles_leclerc happy birthday, Y/N! glad to finally see the power couple together 😉
yourusername nobody asked chair 👍🏻 but also thank you i miss you
alex_albon happy birthday, grumpy 😘 here’s to more days with you
yourusername i hate you come here and kiss me
110 notes · View notes
hugmekenobi · 3 days
Strength- Ch11
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Gif by @anakin-skywalker 
Obi Wan x female!reader
Series Summary: You’re estranged from the Jedi Order and have spent much of your life avoiding them. So, what happens when you have to assist Jedi Master and General Obi Wan Kenobi in battle and you’re forced to come back to Coruscant and work with him?
<Previous Chapter 
Chapter 11 Summary: With the latest arrival at your door, you’re finally in a position where you can’t push away what you feel anymore.
Genre: Enemies to Lovers
Warnings: Use of (Y/N), swearing, Force bonds work how I say they do, kissing, SMUT (including non-explicit descriptions of fingering, handjob, oral (m&f receiving), (f)masturbation, implied unprotected PinV (be safe in reality please), exhibitionism, (very quick but technically) cum eating, blink and you miss it authority kink, teasing/ light dirty talk, body worship with mentions of scars), fluff and feelings.
Word Count: 3.8k
Rating: 18+
Author’s notes: It’s finally here!! The chapter we’ve all been waiting for!! Not an awful lot plot wise happens here haha but enjoy!!  The support continues to mean a lot!! This is the second last chapter of this story. 
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You couldn’t breathe, let alone speak right now.
“Can I come in?” Obi Wan asked, forcing himself not to pay attention to the fact that you were, once again, dressed only in a robe in front of him.
You still couldn’t trust yourself to speak so you only nodded and stepped aside to let him through.
“This is nice.” Obi Wan commented as he looked around your flat. It was tiny and a bit decrepit but compared to the state of some of the other apartments in this level, it was one of the better ones.
You managed to find your voice again and scoffed. “Oh yeah, I’m the envy of everyone in Coruscant. The cracks in the ceiling really add to the ambience.”
Obi Wan cringed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Why are you here, Kenobi?” You asked, as you moved into the kitchen and turned on the tap. You needed to occupy yourself and washing the dishes was the first thing that popped into your head.
Obi Wan took a breath. He hadn’t been in total control of himself when he decided to come here, something else had taken charge and finally woke him up so he didn’t really know what to expect from you by showing up here, but it was too late to go back now. And he didn’t want to go back. He followed you into the kitchen and leaned against the wall. “I needed to talk to you.”
You let out a harsh laugh. “After all this time, you suddenly just decided this?”
“I’ve been a bit busy.” He said defensively.
“Oh yes, I’ve heard all about that. A lot of victories being won in the Outer Rim and Coruscant is certainly grateful to have you back. Congratulations by the way, that was quite the rescue you pulled off.”
“Anakin did most of it, I was unconscious for the majority of it.” He mumbled sheepishly.
And it was that. That unassuming, gentle manner that began to break your wall down. “Still humble as ever I see.” You said, glancing at him, a hint of affection coming through.
“People seem to like it still.” He said, giving you a small smile.
Reminding yourself of why you’d left in the first place, you focused back on the dirty plates. “You needed to talk?”
“Explain is probably a better word. You need to know-”
“I get it, Kenobi. You don’t need to explain. I’ve gotten over it.” You fibbed, eyes never leaving the sink and the soapy suds you were creating.
“No, you don’t understand. I-”
“I don’t want to hear about how you need to live by the Jedi Code. I get it. I don’t need to hear the spiel all over again.” Your voice growing louder, more to hide your distress than anything else.
“That’s not what I’m here to explain!” Obi Wan said, his voice rising too.
“Then what? What could you possibly have to say to me?!”
“I-” He stumbled.
You sighed angrily and turned to face him. “You what? Come on, Kenobi. You hate me? You want me to leave? You wished you’d never met me? Just say it already!”
“I love you!”
That shut you up. You found yourself unable to speak for the second time this morning. You simply just turned your attention back to your washing up.
Obi Wan rubbed a hand over his face. “Dammit darling, this is not how I wanted to do this.”
“What were you expecting? That I’d leap into your arms and forget everything?” You said quietly.
“No. I know I screwed up. With your permission, I’d like to explain myself.” He took your silence as a sign to continue. “When I first met you, I thought you everything in a person that I’d want to avoid. You drove me insane. Mostly because I couldn’t figure you out. You were everything I had been trained not to be, yet you were one of the most incredible Jedi I’d ever met. Just listen.” He said quickly as he saw your jaw clench in protest.
“You were kind, smart, capable and you weren’t afraid to speak out when there was something you knew to be wrong. Take Felucia, had it just been Anakin and I on that mission, the Separatists would still have their base. I knew the order was a poor one, but I would’ve followed it anyway and went back with the information and then waited for orders to take it down but you, you just did it.” He paused and waited for you to say anything but when you didn’t, he carried on.
“So, what I couldn’t figure out was why I was so intent on fighting against you and why you were able to get under my skin so much or why you argued with me just as often. I figured those moments of peace between us were mere glitches. But then this bond was created between us, and I kissed you and it all fell into place and I panicked. A total sense of euphoria overtook me that night and it wasn’t something I was expecting, everything I was experiencing was the complete opposite of what I’d been told would happen if Jedi were to allow that sort of attachment in their life. I realised that I was fighting with myself and taking it out on you. The entire time. That kiss served to clarify everything I had been supressing, I was fighting you because of how right it felt to have you in my life. You must have noticed it. This bond we share was created for a reason, we connected in a way I hadn’t with anyone before. Even when we were arguing, we won battle after battle, we worked well together. I knew you as if you were a part of myself. That’s something I’d only ever experienced with Anakin and that took years to cultivate, with you it was a matter of months. I think you would say the same thing.” He paused to allow you to speak but you stayed quiet, but he’d noticed your actions had slowed down.
“But acting on those feelings went against everything I had been taught my whole life but what scared me was how willing I would be to give it all up. You unlocked a part of me I wasn’t ready to acknowledge so I did what I thought was best, what I’d been told to do, and I put the emotion away. I pushed you away and that was wrong, and I am so sorry. Letting you walk away from that temple was something I’ll regret for the rest of my life because…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Because I am so in love with you. And I think I have been for quite a while.”
He waited for you to say something.
You didn’t. Your nails were embedded in your palms under the water as you struggled to keep your silence.
“Very well.” Obi Wan said sadly. “I’ll leave you alone now.” He left the room.
You tossed your sponge into the sink in frustration and braced your hands on the edges of it as you let out a deep breath. What were you doing? Why were you so insistent on pushing him away when that was the last thing you wanted? Everything he said was true. You dried your hands and darted out of the room, hoping you hadn’t left it too late. “Obi Wan, w-” The ‘wait’ died on your lips as you saw he hadn’t actually left yet, and your words cause him to hesitate by the door. Well, here goes nothing. “Lower it.” You said softly.
Obi Wan, still facing away from you, did what you asked, and he sensed your signature mix with his own and then he heard your voice in his head as you told him the three words he’d wanted to hear for so long. He whipped around to face you.
You nodded your head and brought down your own shield and hoped you would never have to use it again and you smiled as Obi Wan crossed the floor in three strides and took you in his arms and kissed you with a fierce passion you didn’t know he had. It felt different this time, the tether that had been holding you back from one another finally broke. This kiss had no lingering feelings of ‘what if’, this time, both of you were sure. You both groaned in relief at the feeling of it and Obi Wan kissed you with such strength that your spine curved and the only thing keeping you standing was the hold he had on you. You pulled away slightly and smiled against his lips. “How slowly were you walking to that door?”
“Master Yoda would’ve beaten me in a race.” Obi Wan said with a grin before he traced his lips down your neck. “Say it again.” He murmured against your skin.
Threading your fingers in his hair and sighing in pleasure at his actions, not minding the way his beard scratched your skin, you did as he asked. “I love you.” You said aloud, pulling him back up to kiss you. “I love you.” You said again as he kissed the other side of your neck and backed you up against the wall, his lips never leaving your skin.
“I love you too.” He let you shrug off his robe and he pushed the shoulders of your own robe down and his lips tracked the path of scars life had given you. He started with the puckered one on your shoulder before moving across the jagged line on your collarbone. He recalled Ventress’ words and he knew nothing would stop him from loving you the way he did. He planned to worship you for as long as he lived. Sensing your impatience however, he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you up.
It wasn’t that you weren’t enjoying his actions, you were just eager for them to progress and as he lifted you up, you wrapped your legs around him and continued to kiss him. Bedroom.
Obi Wan didn’t need to be told twice. He carried you through to your room.
It was a frantic fumble to shed one another of your clothes since neither one of you wanted to part from the other. Once you both had successfully managed this, Obi Wan gently laid you down on the bed. He moved on top of you but just before he brought his lips to yours, he asked, How worried do I need to be about the gentleman you were pushing out the door this morning?
Well, that depends on your performance here, General Kenobi. You replied, a sly smile on your lips as you pulled him towards you. You didn’t miss the way his breath hitched slightly or the way his signature sparked with heightened interest. You made a mental note of that.
Later. Obi Wan said as he kissed the side of your neck, he knew now he wouldn’t be able to really hide things like that from you now, but he wasn’t wanting to explore that part of him yet. His focus was on you.
You let out a soft groan as he left his mark on you. You rolled your hips and kissed behind his ear before crooning, “But what if I want to now?”
Obi Wan couldn’t stifle the moan that left his mouth. He faltered in what he was doing and looked into your eyes and saw the devilish smile on your face and the seductive glint in your eyes. “You’re going- you’re- you’re going to make this difficult.” He said distractedly as you continued to push up against him.
“What? Can’t handle a bit of teasing, Kenobi?” You purred as you gently bit his lip before kissing him again and you threaded your fingers in his hair and tugged so as to bring him even closer. Your hand then drifted down his body and you smirked against his lips as you noticed the way his grip on the sheets of your bed tightened.
Obi Wan couldn’t help the satisfied moan that left his mouth and he let himself get lost in your touch for the moment but as he felt your hand leave him and both of them then go to his chest, he was able to remain strong enough to stop you from changing positions. He chuckled as he saw the frown on your face before he kissed you and brought your hands up and placed them on your bed frame. You’d had your fun; it was his turn now. Keep them there.
You gripped the metal frame before you broke away from the kiss for air. “What are you- oh.” You moaned as Obi Wan left another mark on your collarbone before his hand skimmed down your body. Chuckling, Obi Wan kissed you deeply and kept his hand where it was before he kissed his way down the same path his hand had taken.
Your breaths came out in short pants as his fingers continued to move but his mouth ghosted over where you wanted him most and instead left soft kisses to the insides of your thighs. Your hold on the frame tightened and you couldn’t stop the whine that left your mouth.
Obi Wan smirked as he glanced up at you. “What? Can’t handle a bit of teasing, darling?”
If you weren’t so annoyingly desperate, you would’ve thought of a fun way to wipe that smug smile off his face, but you just needed him now. “Kenobi, if you don’t- fuck!” You threw your head back against the pillow as he finally gave you what you wanted. The combination of his mouth and fingers brought you to the edge much faster than you’d anticipated.
Obi Wan worked you through it, not stopping until he felt your hands in his hair gently pulling him back up. I didn’t say you could move them yet. He taunted as he moved some strands of hair out your face.
I don’t fucking care. You hadn’t really caught your breath back yet, but you couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hungrily again and applied pressure to his chest.
This time, he allowed you to push him off you and straddle him.
How long have we got? You asked as you kissed your way down his chest, taking your time as you paid close attention to his own battle-weary body, kissing each nick and scar as you continued to go lower.
Ah yes, reality. The concept seemed so far away right now. He groaned at your touch; his brain unable to form a complete sentence with what you were doing right now. Long enough. That was all he could manage, though he knew that time with you would never be long enough.
“Did you know I tried to leave?” You asked quietly as you laid your head on his chest. “I thought leaving Coruscant would make things easier but every time I got in line for a ship, I thought of you, and I felt you and I couldn’t do it and even though it drove me crazy, the holonet and this thing the Force created were the only two ways I knew you were still alive, so I stayed. I didn’t have it in me to go.”
Obi Wan continued to paint little patterns on your shoulder with his fingertips, his attentions alternating between there and the scar that Grievous had given you. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d left; I’d have found you. You could go to the furthest planet in the galaxy and live in the middle of nowhere and I’d still find my way back to you. This bond between us, it’s not something that can be broken, you’re a part of me now and you always will be, darling. Sorry, old habit.” He mumbled as he kissed the top of your head.
“Hmm, I quite like it actually.” You replied, angling your head up to kiss him. “I think that was why I fought you on it so much.”
Obi Wan let out a soft laugh before he brought his lips to yours. After a few moments, he broke away and pushed some hair from your face. “I’m going to leave the Jedi Order.”
Your eyes widened and you sat up so you could face him properly. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Obi Wan, I’m not asking you to do that. I understand what this means for us. I can deal with the secrecy. You can’t just-”
“I know you’re not asking me, darling. This is what I want. I waited once before for someone to ask me and I’m not making that mistake with you. After this blasted war is done, I’ll leave. We just have to live in secret until then, but we can’t live our lives like that, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us. Dooku is dead, all that remains of the Separatists is Grievous. Once we kill him, it’s over.”
One look in his eyes told you that he was firm in his decision. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m certain. I love you and I cannot remain a part of something that would forbid that for reasons that have brought me nothing but happiness.”
You moved so that you were straddling his lap once more and his hands fell to your hips. “Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his lips softly. It soon turned into something more and you began to subtly grind your hips against him, an act he mirrored and one that left both of you softly groaning into one another’s mouths. Just as you felt Obi Wan get ready to move you onto your back, you heard the dreaded sound of his communicator beeping.
Obi Wan somehow found the strength to tear himself away from you. “I have to go.” But he still couldn’t help but plant light kisses up and down your neck.
You closed your eyes and let him continue for a few moments before you let out a sigh. “I know.” You conceded rather unhappily, moving away from him. You tossed your head back against your pillow with a frustrated huff before you sat up on your elbows and watched as he put his Jedi robes back on and then a rather wicked idea popped into your head. You slipped a hand between your legs and let out a soft whimper.
Obi Wan turned sharply to the sound of your happy sigh and his mouth went dry as he saw what you were doing. The strength he’d found to leave you was now evaporating swiftly so he had to act fast. He walked over towards you. “Not- shit-.” He broke off with a groan as he watched you and he could barely get any words out. He took a deep breath and forced himself to speak. “Not without me.” He rasped, not concealing the utterly wrecked nature of his voice as he grabbed your wrist.
You smirked and guided his hand so that it brought your own to your mouth and sucked whilst sending a not-so-subtle reminder to him of what your mouth was capable of doing to him.
Obi Wan just about choked. Shit shit shit shit.
You hummed out a laugh as you heard that.
“Fuck, darling. Please. I’m only human.” Obi Wan begged, his voice hoarse as he watched you. His communicator beeped again but he was only paying attention to you now.
“Hmm still tastes like you.” You said, your voice sultry as you looked up at him. “You sure you don’t want a taste?” You spread your legs wider and lightly traced up and down his thigh.
Obi Wan was sure his brain had short circuited. He swallowed thickly but couldn’t find the ability to speak. His communicator continued to beep incessantly but he was getting to the point where he was fully prepared to fling it against the wall. Holding onto the last thread of logic he had, he found his voice once more, but he scarcely recognised it. “Darling… please. Just wait a little longer. Please.”
He sounded so completely undone and desperate that you knew it wouldn’t take much now to convince him to stay but you couldn’t risk him being found out so soon. You took pity on the man and released him. “Well, when are-”
“After your shift.” He answered, probably too quickly for there to be any chance of him holding onto any slice of dignity but he simply did not care. He planned on memorising every inch of your skin and while this morning had certainly started that process, he knew he wasn’t close to being done.
You tilted your head at him and laughed. “I knew I wasn’t crazy. You were there two nights ago.”
“I had to see you. I’d been to that diner every day before I got sent into the Outer Rim, but I’d never gone in until that night. I nearly stepped in with that man, but you seemed to have it handled.”
“He’s an ass but he’s harmless.”
“And do I need to be worried?” He said with a teasing lilt to his voice.
You smirked. “Come back tonight and I’ll let you know. We have some things that need exploring.”
Obi Wan chuckled. “Until tonight then.” He kissed your forehead but as he went to turn away you grabbed his wrist and hauled him back towards you.
This kiss was deep and intense, and you think your body’s subconscious attempt to get him to stay a bit longer. You only let him go once your lungs insisted that they have oxygen.
“Tonight, can’t come fast enough.” Obi Wan panted, keeping his forehead pressed against yours.
“You better go before I trap you here.” You said as you caught your breath.
“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”
You laughed and pushed his chest. “Get outta here, Kenobi.”
“Goodbye darling. I love you.”
“I love you too.” You called after him and only when you heard the door shut did you fall back against your pillows and let out a deep sigh. You would never get tired of saying that.
After a few minutes, you stood up- on rather shaky legs- and walked into your small living space and that was when you noticed them. Your breath caught in your throat as you walked over your living room table and laying there, on a beige cloth, was your lightsaber and your master’s lightsaber. You grinned to yourself as you picked them up. You really loved that man. And you couldn’t wait until this war was over, after that, everything would be just right.
Next Chapter (to be posted)>
Taglist: @pickleprickle @cat-mak20 @inukako @punkpirate82 @house-of-kolchek @songoficecreamandfireworks @pxl8ed​ @lumiofsweden​ @heyitsaloy​ @andreaaxy​ @integalacticspacemonkey​ @janine-007​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @lizzystardust​ @1deadpool26​ @schnabbulier-me​ @bookfrog242​ @cagrame​ @vibraniumass​ 
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lumierewitch · 2 days
enemies to lovers simply don't work in contemporary rom-coms, like what you gonna hate me because I didn't eat the chocolate cookies you brought to work??
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kermitkrqb · 2 hours
A Glimpse of Us || Xavier Thorpe x reader
A/n: Xavier Thorpe can *%#%* #%^ #%^* *+%# #%. 🤭 I thought I would pop in and feed my Xavier enthusiasts. Be sure to interact with me guys, I love hearing your comments 🫶🏼
What to expect: Gender neutral reader, enemies to lovers vibes but at the same time they have mega crushes on each other , academic rivals!!!, no spoilers here lovelies
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Xavier Thorpe was the absolute bane of your existence. A force to be reckoned with, as much as you hated to admit it. The boy was as irritatingly sarcastic and outspoken as you were. You loved loathed it and had no problem in showcasing it. He, on the other hand, spent every waking opportunity getting a rise out of you, enjoying the way your cheeks flushed in rosy frustration. He claimed it was his “most favourite colour” to which you would of course scowl. The most frustrating part of it all was that the two of you shared the exact same schedule. It was as if the two of you were destined… to loathe each other of course. You refused to have it any other way, which is what you kept reminding yourself. You huffed trying to calm yourself as you walked down the hall to botanical sciences after a particularly humiliating instance with Xavier during fencing. He had you pinned down on the ground, your chest heaving as the tip of his blade hovered above you claiming the final point of the match.
You recalled his dastardly green eyes twinkling with amusement as you laid beneath him flushed with embarrassment. You scoffed at the memory and internally berated yourself as you made your way to class not noticing how the lanky brunette caught up to you. His long legs striding quicker than usual just to walk next to you. A cocky grin stretched out across his face, “Good game, huh?” No response, you were adamant in ignoring him. He leaned in, his breath tickling your ear, “I especially liked the part where you were sprawled out under me.” You shot your head up, a twinge of pink dusting your face, as your fiery eyes bore into his, “Oh yeah? Glad I made your dreams come true. Must be tiring having to draw me like that all the time without seeing the real thing.” Xavier gasped slightly, he had been caught. Although he would never admit it, he was impressed with your response but also scolded himself for being so obvious in drawing you. About to retort, his words died in his mouth as you both arrived at Thornhill’s class and you rushed to your seat.
The two of you were assigned seats on opposite sides of the room per Thornhill’s request to “maintain the order of peace”. Both of you reluctantly obliged wanting everything nothing to do with each other. Putting your books on your desk, you watched as the long haired boy put his hands up in surrender when Ms Thornhill gave him a warning glance before he could spark anything between the two of you. Xavier of course caught your gaze, giving you a wink to which you responded with a sarcastic smile. Class had soon started as the two of you settled down. The botany professor hoped for at least one peaceful lesson, but her hopes were soon destroyed the moment she quizzed the class, “Can anyone tell me the name of this flower?” You smirked to yourself, this was just too easy. Your hand shot up, eager to grab any participation points you could get. The brunette glanced at you from his seat at the front, upon seeing your raised hand, he followed putting up his own.
The class was quiet not wanting to interfere with the growing tension. Whilst being the only two people with raised hands, Ms Thornhill ignored this not wanting to further fuel your rivalry, “Anyone?” Your fellow classmates look to each other in amusement as Thornhill sighed. She notions for you to state the answer seeing as you were the first to raise your hand. You grin, having seemingly beat the artist in the front row, “Ms, It’s the-” A cheeky smile is on Xavier’s face as he interrupts you, “the Black Dahlia.” Thornhill sighs and prepares for the disruption ahead of her. You breath in deeply whilst looking ahead, “It’s botanical name being Black Narcissus.” She gives you an approving look, “Very well done, Y/n.” You glance over to Xavier, only to see that he was already looking at you. His cheeky smile only widens further when the two of you make eye contact. He decides to tease you mouthing, ‘Pay attention.’ You’re about to reply when the botany professor interrupts your little interaction, “L/n and Thorpe, if you would stop staring each other and listen that would be greatly appreciated.”
The class laughs as the two of you pull yourselves together, Xavier clearing his throat in embarrassment at Thornhill’s implications. Both of you are now too embarrassed to look at each other in fear of being called out like that again. Thornhill looks pleased with herself as the rest of the lesson continues on without disruption from the two of you. At least it was a somewhat peaceful lesson. Botanical sciences soon finishes, and seeing as it was your last class for the day, you made your way back to your dorm for a nap after that exhausting day. Unbeknownst to you, in his respective dorm, Xavier was about to do the same. Taking a cold shower, the tall boy’s mind ran free. Every time he closed his eyes, you were there. Your face tinted pink as he got a rise out of you, the smirk plastered on your face as you competed against him, and finally, the way your chest heaved as you were sprawled out under him.
Xavier groaned splashing his face with more cold water. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. Drying himself off with his towel, he quickly got dressed in comfortable clothes. His hair still slightly damp as he laid in bed staring at the ceiling. He didn’t want to doze off yet. The artist leaned over and felt around on the floor for one of his sketchbooks, his slender fingers grabbing the cover as he finally found it. It didn’t take much flipping for him to find a sketch of you. After all, you were his muse. He would never admit it out loud, although, after today’s interaction he knew you had caught on. He smiled fondly at one of his first sketches of you. On the page your fiery eyes gazed up at him as your face was deeply flushed pink. He couldn’t recall what he said to get that reaction out of you, and he didn’t really care. As long as he still got that beautiful tint on your face. He wasn’t lying when he said it was his most favourite colour.
Without realising it, he started to doze off at the thought of you. A soft smile plastered on his face as he began to nap. Xavier hadn’t dreamed of any visions for a while although that would quickly change. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched on his face as the daylight peaked through his dorm window. An arm was wrapped across his bare chest, his breath hitched as he tilted his head to the side. He could just make out your face under the covers. You were snuggled into his side with a soft expression he’d rarely seen before. Catching his eyes you grinned, “Finally you’re awake sleepyhead. I thought I was gonna be trapped under you for eternity.” The vision shifted and the Thorpe boy was now watching himself in third person. Xavier smirked in return, “You’d like that a little too much.” The two of you then shared a sweet kiss, Xavier’s chin now resting on the top of your head. He reminded you, “Remember to be ready by 8:00pm for our dinner.” You smiled looking up at him through your lashes, “How could I forget? Our second anniversary.”
Xavier shot out of bed sitting up. Like all of his visions that he would have in his sleep, it was extremely vivid and clear. His hand ran through his long hair, “Our second anniversary.” He whispered. His vision confirmed it all, even if the tall boy was still in partial denial in regards to your feelings. Obvious to everyone except you, he liked you of course. He just never knew if his feelings would ever make their way past playful bickering and into something more. Xavier wasn’t stupid, the vision obviously confirmed your feelings towards him too. Even before the vision he could tell, especially in the way you brightened up in class when you saw him, the small smile you would try to hide after he would tease you, and if your blush wasn’t a dead giveaway- he wouldn’t know what he’d do. He just didn’t want to be wrong and ruin everything between the two of you. A plan hatched in the mischievous boys mind, he knew you would be extremely stubborn if he outright told you about his vision but, he knew just how to make you crack.
A/n: Part 2 is already written, let me know if you guys want me to release it.
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sodosnake · 2 days
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finally drew them together
this is Wangja, my g3 imp and Jibo who’s his little pearlcatcher bf :>
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sweatandwoe · 2 days
End of the year Ao3 Recs!
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Hey guys, I just wanted to share my ao3 recs for this year! I hope you guys can agree.
Risen by IcarcusFeathers
2. Risen by IcarcusFeathers
3. Risen by IcarcusFeathers
4. Risen by IcarcusFeathers
5. Risen by IcarcusFeathers
You should definitely check them out! 10/10, fic of the year is definitely Risen by IcarcusFeathers
I definitely recommend @chickenparm @a-gal-with-taste and @designfailure56 to read it as well! I know this fic is right up your allies
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Superhero scowled down at the hero . “You’d protect them after everything we’ve worked for?”
They only clung to Villain tighter as they looked up Superhero, someone they’d once considered a friend. “This isn’t right and you know it.”
They shook they head. “You’ve changed, Hero.”
“No, but you have.”
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liv-n · 2 days
“How Could Anyone Ever Say No To You?” A Wilbur Soot Enemies to Lovers fic!
For the wonderful @rwqv for @grey-rambles’ Holiday exchange!
Summary: You move into a new apartment, but your next-door neighbor (who you are determined to not find cute) is less than considerate when it comes to the volume of his music.
Warnings: None, I don’t think there’s even any swearing.
Song: Taunt by Lovejoy (and a mention of ‘Would That I’ by Hozier)
Pronouns: you/yours and a few uses of ‘y/n’
A/N: Ahh! This took multiple sittings, my life’s been a bit wild recently and i’m late, but i’m happy to finally get it out. It’s also a lot longer than i was expecting, sorry!!
also! i know the lyric is ‘oh, did anyone ever say no to you’ and not ‘how could’ but that’s what I heard on my first listen and it works better haha.
also pt. 2: I used one use of the British spelling of ‘gray’ in honor of grey-rambles hehe >:)
below is your reference for the second scene !
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The apartment was listed as ‘serene’ and ‘quiet’— not filled with one pretentious British punk-rock wannabe living right next door. See usually, you weren’t really the type to cause issues or even really create conflict at all, but something about that boy made you feel the need to say something.
When you first met him, he was cute, tall, funny— he even offered to carry your boxes for you! You let yourself get lost in the idea of him— sneaking out from your apartment to his late at night, sitting on the fire escapes to watch the sunset, making plans for your future life together… Then he started playing rock music at 10pm at full blast.
‘You know what? Maybe he doesn’t realize how loud it is, I’ll just go ask him.’ You thought. Plus, it’s another excuse to see him, maybe even learn his name this time.
You collect any shread of confidence you have and you knocked on his door. As he opens it, you can see he’s covered in sweat. Head to toe. His hair is frizzy and sticking to his head, the top buttons of his white dress shirt undone— he’s clearly out of breath.
“How can I help you…?” He gets out after a sigh.
“Ah, yes. You live next door, right? What’s up, love?” You couldn’t lie, the pet name gave you butterflies, but you weren’t going to let it distract you from your mission.
“Uh… I just wanted to say that your music was just a bit loud? I didn’t know if you knew, it’s just late and I’m trying to get work done…” Not exactly the pinnacle of confidence, but you got the message across. At least you thought you did.
“Ahh okay, I understand. We can turn it down. See you around.”
“Thanks…?” You paused, hoping to get his name.
“Wilbur. Wilbur Soot” He smirked as you felt your cheeks warm. With a little nod, you walked yourself back to your apartment, butterflies still fluttering around. You closed the door and rested yourself against it, smiling to yourself as you replayed the interaction— until the music started playing again. Your dreams were cut short once again and you just rolled your eyes and sighed. You debated just calling it quits for the night, maybe he just needed to find some relief? You shook your head, knowing if you didn’t say something now, it’d probably never change anyway… so, you walk yourself back over, this time your annoyance giving you more confidence.
You knocked on his door with more force, you weren’t even sure if he was gonna hear you over the music, it’s like he almost turned it up. Instead of the tall, fluffy-haired Wilbur, you got a shorter man with long black hair, some facial hair, and round black glasses. After seeing you, he opened the door further and signaled to Wilbur to see who it was. He tried to hide a very obvious sigh as he took his guitar off his shoulders and walked over.
“How can I help you this time, sweetheart?” The condescension made your blood boil.
“It’s still really loud.” You said with the same condescension right back at him.
“Okay, well… we’ve already turned it down once. We’ve got a gig tomorrow and we need to be able to hear the music.”
“The entire block can hear the music!” You say, very frustrated.
“That must suck for them, huh?” He says sarcastically looking back at the rest of the band waiting for him, “Why don’t you go back to your apartment, put your little headphones in and listen to that ‘Top 100 Pop’ playlist I’m sure you love?”
You took the deepest breath you could, like I’m pretty sure multiple trees were required for the air you took in, and then out. With a sigh, you look back up at him, his eyebrow cocked and a no-longer-hot smirk plastered on his face.
“Turn. It. Down.” You say with the best sickly sweet smile you could muster.
“Sorry, sweetheart, not gonna happen.” He winked and then slammed the door in your face. You had to wait there for a moment just looking at his door— did he really just do that??
This time you basically stomped back to your door, the pretension! The condescension! The self-importance! You weren’t going back over tonight, if you did, you might just scream at him. You made a point to, yes, put in your headphones and try to block it out, but instead you put Penelope Scott, just to prove him wrong and feel a bit of that angst. Who would believe it but right before you put your earbuds in, he starts playing again. Somehow, even louder! No amount of Penelope-Scott-Teenage-Angst could ever explain the annoyance and anger in your brain. You weren’t about to let an egotistical man who thinks he’s the hottest person in the world ruin your night. You wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction.
Except only, that was three months ago. At this point, he didn't even need to open the door, he always knew it was you. He’d yell “Sorry” in between laughs or a joking “Go away!”, and go right back to playing. You even tried to report him to the landlord, who was surprisingly understanding, but as soon as she got up there he invited her for tea and suddenly she forgot why she was there. Safe to say she never followed up with you. So, you stopped even trying. It wasn’t worth the anger or the slight panic attack you’d have before (and after) trying to stop him.
Today though, you were walking out down to a date with a guy your friend recommended, when you heard soft guitar music from his room. It was much softer and genuinely beautiful, sounded like walking through the woods or waking up in Paris. You decided to wave a white flag, walk over, and very gently knock on his door. You heard the music stop and someone walk over. He was much more relaxed, maybe even a bit melancholy today.
Maybe it was the fact it was a light knock this time or that you’ve been outright avoiding him entirely, but he was definitely surprised to see you.
“Hey, I just wanted to say how pretty that sounds… is it Would That I by H-”
He cut you off, “Where have you been?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Where have you been?” He repeated himself, “Why haven’t you been complaining”
“I thought I would just give up, you haven’t been changing at all anyway.” You say, trying to convey your annoyance.
He looked you up and down and you could swear you could see a bit of guilt in his eyes before he said, “Okay.”
You knit your eyebrows together… ‘Okay’? What does that even mean.
“Um, alright. Just thought I’d try to… I don’t know.. change things between us, but it’s clear you have no intention to do so.” You started walking away.
“Yeah, it’s Would That I by Hozier.” You smiled and kept walking before he interrupted again, with a smirk, “Where are you off to?”
“A date.” You smirked and raised your eyebrows before turning back to leave. For a split second though, you swore you could see a bit of hurt on his face. You didn’t let it bother you though, your friend has only said good things about the guy you’re about to meet, she even pointed out distinctly that he ‘does not play music. ever.’ Which probably should be a red flag, but you weren’t about to be safe when it came to wannabe rockstars.
Your friend was definitely biased. He was a lot less than a daydream, he kept talking about himself, talking over you, bragging about his company (one you looked up after that definitely had more than a few human rights violations). Overall, it just wasn’t anything like you expected. You pulled yourself back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, but as soon as you heard the loud music you broke down. You just felt so frustrated and burnt out, and not-going-to-lie a little hopeless about your romantic life. The loud reminder that you couldn’t even get your next door neighbor to turn down his music one time wasn’t exactly helping. You slid on your back down the wall until you were curled in a small ball by your door in the hallway. You let yourself just sit and sob there for a moment, knowing it was only you and Wilbur on that floor anyway, it wasn’t like anyone was going to interrupt you.
With a deep breath, a few minutes later you pulled yourself up and walked to your door. You weren’t really expecting your cry session to be orchestrated by British punk-rock, but everyday brings new surprises, you guess. You decided to grab your phone and try to Shazam the song he was playing— you’d never tell him this, but you kind of liked the music. It expressed the conflicting emotions in your brain right now, not to mention it sounded like fun music to dance with your friends to. Some band named Lovejoy came up, it was one of their newer songs from a few days ago, Taunt. As you listened to the lyrics you did some research on the band. Who did you find but one Wilbur Soot heading the band, and the guy who answered the door, now known as Ash Kabosu, was the bassist. “
So he is in a real band, huh. And a million monthly listeners?! Guess I have to take that ‘wannabe’ off his title now…” You said to yourself. You walked into the hallway to give yourself a pseudo-concert listening experience. Albeit from you to turn down listening to music you didn’t exactly hate. You leaned against your door, trying to learn the lyrics to the song he was playing.
“I took it as a taunt…
Remember way back then in school?
Oh, did anyone ever say no to you?
How did anyone ever say no to you?
‘Cause I don’t think I have a clue.”
You lightly rocked your head to the beat of the guitar. They stopped to take a break so you placed your headphones in, playing the song over and over again.
“Hey?” You snapped your eyes open, framed by his doorway, Wilbur was looking down at you, confused to say the least.
“Yeah?” You say nonchalantly
“What’re you doing out here?”
“Just listening” He smiles at that, looking down at your phone playing the song he just was.
“Oh really?”
“So, do you like it?” He asks earnestly.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, Wilbur Soot of Lovejoy?” He breathes out a little laugh, and looks at you for a moment. “Who’s it about?”
He pauses for a moment, trying to debate whether or not he should tell you.
At first you laugh, which catches him off guard.
“I haven’t killed your cat! We aren’t even allowed cats!” You say in-between giggles. Slightly relieved, he laughs along with you.
“Yeah… but still.” You’ve never seen him this nervous before— scratch that, you’ve never seen him nervous at all before.
“Really?” You asked, puzzled. He doesn’t really know what to say, so he says nothing at all.
“When do you guys finish up?” He assumes you mean to figure out when you’ll actually get to sleep by, so in defeat he says, “Soon probably. I can get us done by 9 or so.”
“Great. Do you want to do something after?”
Certain to say he was surprised to hear that.
“Uh sure… What would you like to do?”
“I don’t know… do you have a fire escape?” You smirk.
“We’ll do that then.” He’s entirely confused on what you mean, but he nods and walks back into his apartment.
Nine o’clock rolls around and you are slightly very, very, nervous. You just wanted a chance to talk to him one on one, not in front of his doorway, not in anger, just him. You make sure to change into some comfy pajamas, it wasn’t like you were going out into the world and it would be cold outside anyway.
At 9:05 you’re in front of his door. Well, you’ve been in front of his door for two minutes, you just haven’t exactly worked up the courage to knock yet. ‘What’s the issue?’ You think, ‘I’ve done this a thousand times before.” Luckily, you don’t seem to need to knock as Wilbur opens the door himself.
“Hi.” He says, smiling.
“Hey!” You say back, with just a bit of awkwardness.
“Want to come in?” He opens the door further and you step in. It feels sort of weird to walk in, you’ve just seen it from the outside for months, so you take a moment to look around, pretty organized except some cables and microphones messily strewn across the living room. “The fire escape’s this way.”
He leads you there and you settle in on the edge, hanging your legs under the railing. It was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. The silence felt deserved, but not uncomfortable.
“So, why did I have to kill your cat?” You ask, jokingly.
He laughs but doesn't answer. He rather poses his own question, “How’d you find out about Lovejoy?”
“I Shazam’d it. I don’t know how I didn’t think about it before, but I was having a rough day and it sounded like the kind of music I needed to hear at that point.” He nodded and looked out to the cityscape.
“What happened?” You looked over at him with confusion, “On that day, I mean.”
“Oh, just a date went wrong. He didn’t listen to me and was morally-grey at best. Just wasn’t the right person for me.” Not even close, you say under your breath, but he hears you.
“Glad my music could help a little. Hope you know you deserve better.” He says, more to himself or the city than to you.
“You’re right. I’ve just never been the patient type when it comes to romance.”
“Is that why you’ve been knocking on my door every day for months?”
“Hey!” you lightly slap him, “I stopped anyway.”
“Yeah, I noticed. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you.” You look over at him, and he turns back to you with a smirk, “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
Another light hit to his shoulder as he pretends to be heavily injured.
“Come here,” he stands up and reaches his hand down for you to take, “Let’s dance.”
You hesitantly allow him to help you up. You place your hands on his shoulders (which is more of challenge than you will admit), and he places his on your waist. You place your head on his chest and sway lightly while looking out on the skyline. The two of you stay like that for a moment, not really saying anything or moving, except for his hands rubbing small circles on your back. He pulls you away slightly, and you look confused for a moment.
“Just wanted to look at you for a second.” You smile and look down, so he uses his thumb and pointer finger to lift your face up again.
“Will you kiss me?” You ask.
“‘How could anyone ever say no to you?’” he responds with a smirk
thanks for reading <33 and special thanks again to @grey-rambles for the opportunity and @pebblebrainlovejoy for a really cute schlatt fic they wrote for me!! go check it out and each of their accounts!
their schlatt fic:
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ivmaruva · 3 days
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Day 49
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softpastelqueer · 2 days
Enemies to lovers?
More like “dumbass (derogatory)” to “dumbass (affectionate)”
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the-backwards-eel · 19 hours
“A queen is the most powerful piece on the board.”
“But pawn can become a queen if it makes it to the other side of the board.”
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chrispumpkin · 2 days
BLACK DOE, Chapter VI (Coming Soon)
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Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, // Archive of our Own
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!OC, mentioned Rhaenyra x Alicent
Tags: Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Smut
Excerpt Summary: Houses Baratheon and Targaryen ready for war. Glory and redemption beckon - so why is Aemond Targaryen following his future sister-by-law on a fool's errand?
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"What are you doing?" Aemond bids, the woman he shadows surprisingly swift for one dressed for a feast. "The road is dangerous at this hour". Caris ignores him. Since hearing that her maid's life might be forfeit, she'd focused on nothing but reaching her horse. "Do you even know which way to ride?"
Caris kicks her flimsy slippers off, replacing them with the toughened boots she'd swiped from the guards' station. "I'm not a fool."
"If riding miles in the dead of night seems sensible to you, then I'd have to argue otherwise" Aemond examines. Caris growls. She checks the buckles on her saddle with force heavier than necessary. Her mount shifts nervously. "What will your father think?"
The Prince all but hears her composure snap.
"I don't care. I don't care what you tell him. I don't care what he and my sisters think of me for disappearing just before the march" she yells, "I won't leave Breyna to suffer those vultures, not when it's me they ought to be pecking at."
Aemond arches his brow. This was the least sane he'd ever seen her, and yet every stroke of anguish painted on her fair face made perfect sense to him.
At that moment he admired her. Most noble folk couldn't even muster a please and thank you for their servants. Caris was willing to risk her neck for hers. "And what do you intend to do once you reach Stonehelm?"
"Stop your stupid questions and help me onto this fucking horse, would you?" Caris fizzles. She tries and fails to hoist herself onto its back, feet not quite propelling her high enough. Aemond tuts and moves to aid her, hands firm on her waist.
"If execution is their intent, you'll never reach your friend in time. Not on horseback."
Caris expires, defeatedly sinking into him, fists balled up against the mare's spotted coat. "Then what do you propose?"
"A dragon can make a league's distance in but a fraction of the time a horse takes."
The woman laughs darkly. "I was hoping for a more convenient solution."
Aemond draws a black curtain of hair away from her face, the veil she used to cover her tears now lifted. Caris gazes up at him in a silent plea. It was ludicrous, to want to be so tender after the barbs they'd thrown. Pleasant, but ludicrous.
Something lingers. Caris sweeps it away with the rueful shake of her head. "I sometimes wonder if you forget which Baratheon girl you're betrothed to."
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A/N: This chapter is looking to be quite the ride (perhaps literally), I literally can't wait to get it finished. Don't forget to catch up if you missed the last installment :) It was juuuicy
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