#amber s. secret
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realms-and-creatures · 2 months ago
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I'm gonna turn these guys into Plushies!!
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art-o-gant · 5 months ago
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save me nash harding,,,,,,
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buttercandy16 · 14 days ago
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Mistress
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PAIRING(s): Vampire!Agatha Harkness x Maid!Reader
SUMMARY: Your mistress becomes obsessed with you, leading to a dark, twisted relationship where love, power, and obsession collide.
WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive, Blood, and SMUT.
A/N: Been a while since I've written some smut. Enjoy!
The halls of the Harkness estate were vast and cold, like a labyrinth of secrets etched into its ancient stone walls. Candlelight flickered across shadowy corridors as you carried a silver tray of wine toward the parlor, your heels clicking softly against the marble floors. You tried to focus on balancing the tray, but you couldn't ignore the eerie stillness of the estate or the way the other servants whispered nervously about their mistress.
Agatha Harkness.
Even among her wealthy contemporaries, her name was uttered with equal parts reverence and dread. She was a woman of unparalleled elegance and power, known for her biting wit and an aura of danger that clung to her like a second skin. Rumors swirled about her cruelty, her temper, and her insatiable appetites—not just for luxury but for something darker.
You’d taken the job as her maid out of desperation, knowing little of her reputation. Now, after only a few weeks, you wondered if the warnings had been an understatement.
And yet, you found yourself drawn to her in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
The moment you entered the parlor, you felt her eyes on you.
Agatha lounged in a grand velvet armchair, her long fingers elegantly wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. Her gaze slid over you like a caress, sharp and assessing, making your skin prickle under the weight of her attention.
“Finally,” she purred, her voice smooth as silk. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”
“My apologies, mistress,” you said quickly, setting the tray down on the table before her.
“Hmm.” She didn’t look away, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “You’re new, aren’t you?”
“Yes, mistress,” you said, fighting to keep your hands steady under her piercing stare.
She stood slowly, her towering frame somehow both graceful and intimidating as she circled you. The scent of her perfume—a dark, heady mix of amber and spice—wrapped around you, making it hard to think clearly.
“I noticed you the moment you arrived,” she murmured, her voice dangerously low. “There’s something… unique about you. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”
Her fingers brushed your shoulder lightly as she moved behind you, and your breath caught.
“Tell me,” she said, her breath warm against your ear, “do you enjoy working for me?”
The air felt heavy, and the words got caught in your throat. “Y-yes, mistress,” you managed, though your pulse quickened for reasons you couldn’t fully name.
Her low chuckle sent a shiver down your spine. “Good. I have high expectations, and I’d hate to be disappointed.”
Over the following days, her interest in you only grew more intense.
She began finding reasons to summon you alone—fetching her wine, helping her dress, accompanying her on her nightly walks through the moonlit gardens. Always, she kept close, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of you.
At first, you thought it was simply her eccentric nature, but soon it became clear there was more to her obsession.
“I can hear your heart racing,” she said one evening as you stood in her chambers, tidying the delicate lace cuffs of one of her gowns. Her tone was amused, but her eyes burned with something primal.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.
“Oh, but I think you do,” she said, taking your wrist in her hand. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she pulled you closer. “You’re quite… intoxicating.”
One night, you found yourself summoned to her private chambers. The room was dimly lit, the scent of wax and roses thick in the air. She stood by the fireplace, her long dark gown catching the light like a pool of ink.
“Come here,” she said, her voice low and commanding.
You hesitated but obeyed, stepping closer until you were standing just inches from her.
Her hand reached out, her fingers trailing over your cheek. “You’re shaking,” she whispered. “Are you afraid of me?”
“N-no, mistress,” you lied, your voice barely audible.
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You should be.”
Before you could respond, her grip tightened on your arm, and she pulled you against her. Her other hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes glowed faintly in the firelight, hungry and unrelenting.
“You don’t understand yet, do you?” she murmured, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “The hold you have over me. Your scent, your warmth, the taste of your fear…”
Her lips brushed against your neck, soft and deliberate, and your breath hitched. You wanted to pull away, but her presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and somehow… thrilling.
“I could devour you,” she whispered, her voice tinged with both lust and menace. “Body and soul. And I don’t know if I could stop myself.”
You felt her teeth graze your skin, a soft scrape that sent electricity coursing through you. But instead of biting, she pulled back, her expression carefully controlled.
“Not yet,” she said, more to herself than to you. “Not yet.”
Her fingers lingered on your wrist as she let you go, her touch burning long after she released you.
“Leave me,” she said abruptly, turning away.
You didn’t wait for her to change her mind.
The next day, she was colder, more distant, as though trying to suppress whatever had taken hold of her. But the heat in her gaze never dimmed when she looked at you, and you knew the storm wasn’t over—it was only just beginning.
Every interaction with her left you more confused, more tangled in her web of obsession. The line between fear and something far more dangerous blurred, and you found yourself standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to flee or to fall.
And as her lips curled into a knowing smirk, you realized that decision might not be yours to make.
The air in the Harkness estate grew heavier each day, as though the house itself was responding to the tension between you and its mistress. Agatha’s presence loomed everywhere—her perfume lingering in the hallways, her voice echoing in the back of your mind, her piercing eyes locked on you at every stolen glance.
You told yourself it was just her nature, an eccentricity fueled by wealth and boredom. Yet deep down, you knew it was more. Agatha wasn’t merely interested; she was consumed. And despite the gnawing fear in your chest, part of you couldn’t help but lean into it, daring the flame to burn brighter.
One evening, you were summoned to her private chambers yet again. The summons itself wasn’t unusual by now, but the tone of her note was: “Tonight, you’re mine.”
You smoothed your trembling hands down the front of your uniform as you knocked on the grand wooden door. Her voice drifted through, low and sensual.
“Come in.”
Pushing the door open, you stepped inside, only to be greeted by a sight that made your breath hitch.
Agatha stood in front of a gilded mirror, her silhouette framed by the glow of the roaring fireplace. She was in a deep plum silk robe, tied loosely at her waist. The fabric clung to her curves, revealing far more than it hid. Her hair tumbled down in dark waves, and her gaze met yours through the reflection.
“You kept me waiting,” she said, her tone soft but full of unspoken weight.
“My apologies, Mistress Harkness,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Agatha,” she corrected, turning to face you fully. “When we’re alone, you’ll call me Agatha.”
Her smile was slow and predatory as she crossed the room, her bare feet silent on the thick rug. She stopped just in front of you, her presence commanding every ounce of your attention.
“You’ve been working so hard lately,” she said, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. “Have the other servants been treating you well?”
“Yes,” you replied, though the closeness of her fingers to your skin made the word come out shakier than intended.
“And yet,” she continued, tilting her head, “I can see the exhaustion in your eyes. Do they know how much you give?” Her fingers lingered on your cheek, her touch as delicate as a whisper.
“I—”
“Shh,” she interrupted, pressing a single finger to your lips. “No need to speak. You’ve already given me enough with just your presence.”
The air between you crackled with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. Her eyes roamed over you, her gaze so unashamed and hungry that you felt exposed even in your modest uniform.
“Have you thought about me?” she asked, her voice a low, dangerous hum.
Your throat tightened. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”
Her smile deepened, a sly curve of her lips that seemed to peel away every pretense. “Don’t lie to me. I see it every time your hands tremble when I’m near. The way you avoid my gaze, yet I catch you staring when you think I’m not looking.”
You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your heart thundering in your chest. “Mistress, I—”
“Agatha,” she corrected again, more firmly this time. Her voice softened as she leaned closer, the scent of her perfume intoxicating. “Do you feel it too? This… pull between us? Don’t deny it.”
Her hand trailed down your arm, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your wrist. The touch was light, yet it left a trail of fire in its wake.
You stepped back instinctively, trying to create distance, but she followed. Her movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey.
“You’re nervous,” she said, her voice almost teasing. “Good. I like the way your pulse quickens when I’m near. Like it’s calling to me.”
Her fingers brushed the delicate skin of your neck, lingering for a moment as her gaze followed the motion.
“Do you know how hard it’s been to restrain myself?” she whispered, her voice dripping with hunger. “You’ve awakened something in me—something dark, something primal. I can hardly stand it when you’re near.”
Her lips ghosted over your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Every time I see you, every time I smell you, I wonder… how would you taste?”
Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you, but her hand moved to your waist, steadying you. It wasn’t just her words—it was her voice, her touch, her presence. It was overwhelming.
“You should go,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
Her laughter was soft and rich, like the purr of a satisfied predator. “Go? You’re the one in my chambers, darling.”
Agatha’s other hand slid around your back, pulling you impossibly close. The silk of her robe brushed against you, her warmth seeping into your skin.
“Tell me to stop,” she said, her lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “One word, and I’ll let you walk out of here. But if you stay… you’ll belong to me.”
Your breath caught as her fingers tilted your chin upward, her dark eyes blazing with intent. It felt like the world had stopped, like the only thing that mattered was her—her lips, her touch, her dominance.
This was no longer just your job, your duty. This was something much deeper, darker, and inescapable. And as her lips brushed against yours, soft and commanding all at once, you knew there was no going back.
The kiss started soft—tentative even—but there was no denying the fire that ignited the moment her lips claimed yours. Agatha wasn’t the kind of woman to ask twice, and now, her dominance poured over you like molten honey. Her hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place as her lips parted yours, the taste of her intoxicating.
“Do you feel it now?” she murmured against your lips, her voice like a low growl. “How you’ve bewitched me?”
Your body trembled under her touch, your breath hitching as her sharp nails dragged lightly down the curve of your neck. The trail they left tingled, a shiver that rippled through you like electricity. She stepped back, just slightly, her hungry eyes roaming over you as though she was calculating her next move.
Then her expression shifted—intense and dark, her pupils dilating as she fixated on your neck.
Before you could speak, she moved, gripping your waist and pressing you against the cold stone wall of her chambers. Her lips brushed your collarbone, soft and deliberate, as she inhaled deeply.
“Your scent…” Her voice broke, heavy with need. “It’s… maddening.”
Her mouth trailed along the line of your throat, kisses becoming hungrier, rougher. Then you felt it—the sharp press of her teeth.
"Agatha—" you gasped, half-panicked and half-lost in the thrill coursing through you.
“Shh,” she cooed, pinning your wrists above your head with surprising strength. “You’ve already given me your lips… your trust… What’s one more thing?”
Her teeth broke the delicate skin of your neck with a swift bite, pain mingling with the heat of her lips. Your cry was stifled as she pressed her mouth fully against you, drinking deeply. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt—the sharp sting giving way to a strange, dangerous pleasure as her body molded against yours.
The world blurred at the edges, your heart hammering as she drank, the wet, visceral sound filling the chamber. Your pulse slowed, your knees weak, but Agatha didn’t falter. When she finally pulled back, her lips and chin were smeared with your blood, crimson standing out stark against her pale skin.
“Look at you,” she whispered, her voice husky, her eyes glowing faintly with an otherworldly hunger. “So fragile, so perfect. Do you understand now what you do to me?”
Her hands slipped to your waist, her grip firm yet somehow tender, steadying you as you sagged against her. “You taste like heaven,” she murmured, licking the remnants of your blood from her lips as though savoring a fine wine.
“You—” You tried to speak, but the words didn’t come, your breath hitching as her thumb traced over the fresh wound on your neck.
“Shh, don’t speak,” she said, her voice softening, almost tender now. “You’ve given me so much already. Let me take care of you, darling.”
She lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the massive bed draped in deep violet and gold linens. You felt the world sway as she set you down, her robe falling open just enough to reveal the smooth curve of her shoulder. Her predatory grin had returned, but now it was laced with something gentler—a strange, possessive affection that made your stomach twist.
“I told you, didn’t I?” she murmured, brushing your hair away from your face. “You belong to me now. Completely.”
She leaned over you, her bloodstained lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentler this time. It was possessive yet worshipful, as though she was memorizing every inch of you.
The blood loss left you lightheaded, the line between fear and desire blurring until it vanished entirely. Agatha’s hands roamed over your body with reverence, her touch burning like fire.
“Such strength,” she purred, her lips hovering over yours. “Yet so vulnerable.”
She pressed another kiss to your neck, careful to avoid the wound this time. Her tongue flicked over the edges of the bite, soothing the sting, even as her hands trailed down your sides, setting every nerve ablaze.
The fire in the hearth crackled, casting flickering shadows across the room as Agatha’s lips left your neck, her tongue lapping at the wound she’d made. Her hands were everywhere—tracing your collarbone, gripping your hips, sliding up your thighs with a possessiveness that left you breathless. She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark and glinting with something primal, something that made your stomach twist in a way that was equal parts fear and desire.
“You’re trembling,” she murmured, her voice low and rough, like the growl of a predator savoring its prey. “Do you want me to stop?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your body was betraying you, your pulse racing as her fingers slipped under the hem of your uniform, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Her touch was electric, sending shivers up your spine, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.
“No?” she teased, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Good. Because I don’t think I could stop even if you begged me to.”
Her hands moved with purpose, yanking the fabric of your uniform up and over your head in one swift motion. The cool air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of her gaze as she took you in—every curve, every inch of exposed flesh. Her eyes burned with hunger, and you felt utterly exposed, utterly at her mercy.
“Beautiful,” she whispered, her voice dripping with reverence. “Every part of you.”
Her hands were on you again, rough and demanding, as she pushed you back onto the bed. The satin sheets were cool against your back, but her body was a furnace as she climbed over you, her robe falling open to reveal the smooth, pale skin beneath. Her breasts brushed against yours, and you gasped at the contact, your nipples hardening instantly under her touch.
“You’re mine,” she growled, her lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. “Every inch of you belongs to me.”
Her mouth closed over your nipple, her tongue flicking against the sensitive bud, and you arched into her, a moan escaping your lips before you could stop it. She chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and her teeth grazed you lightly, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.
“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me hear you.”
Her hand slid down your stomach, her fingers dipping between your thighs, and you gasped as she found your wetness. She groaned, low and guttural, as she felt how ready you were for her.
“So eager,” she purred, her fingers teasing your entrance. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”
You couldn’t answer, couldn’t think, as her fingers pushed inside you, curling just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur. She moved with a practiced precision, her thumb circling your clit as her fingers worked you, and you writhed beneath her, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life.
“Look at you,” she said, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “So desperate for me. So perfect.”
Her pace quickened, her fingers thrusting deeper, harder, and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Come for me, darling. Let me feel you fall apart.”
As the firelight flickered in the darkened chamber, her mouth found yours again, her kiss consuming you entirely. She poured everything into it—her obsession, her hunger, and her unspoken claim over you.
When you woke, you were wrapped in satin sheets the color of freshly spilled wine. The dull ache in your neck reminded you that last night hadn’t been a fever dream. You touched the spot cautiously, your fingers finding tender flesh but no wound. Agatha had tended to it somehow; you could still feel the faint sting of her tongue against your skin.
As you turned, you realized you weren’t alone. Agatha sat on the edge of the bed, her robe draped loosely over her, revealing more than it hid. She held a glass of dark red wine in one hand, her other hand lazily tracing patterns on your thigh.
“You’re awake,” she said without looking at you. Her voice was calm, almost casual, but there was a sharp edge to it—possessive, in control.
You tried to sit up, but the room spun, and Agatha’s hand was on your shoulder in an instant, pressing you gently back down.
“Easy, darling,” she murmured, her fingers cool against your flushed skin. “You’ve given me so much already. You need to recover.”
Her words were kind, but her tone betrayed her satisfaction—like a predator who’d gorged herself on her prey and was now savoring the aftermath.
“Why?” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.
Agatha smiled, setting her glass aside. She leaned down until her face was inches from yours, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath.
“Because I couldn’t resist,” she said simply. “You’re… exquisite. Every look, every breath, every drop of blood.” She cupped your face in her hand, her thumb grazing your cheekbone. “You have no idea the effect you’ve had on me.”
You flinched as her lips brushed over your forehead, but you didn’t pull away. There was a strange tenderness to her touch that made it impossible to move, even as your heart thundered in your chest.
“I should have left you alone,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But I’m not that strong. Not when it comes to you.”
The days that followed blurred together.
Agatha no longer kept her distance. She was everywhere—in the gardens during your morning chores, in the kitchen as you prepared meals, in your dreams every time you closed your eyes.
And always, her hands were on you—brushing against your arm as she passed, grazing your neck when she adjusted your collar, lingering on your waist as though she couldn’t stand to let you go.
“I’ve been patient,” she said one evening, pinning you against the cool stone of the hallway. Her voice was low, dangerous. “Do you think I’m a patient woman, darling?”
You shook your head, your words stolen by the heat of her body pressing into yours.
“No,” she said, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “I’m not.”
Her hand slid up your thigh, her touch searing through the thin fabric of your uniform. “Do you understand what you’ve done to me? How you’ve consumed my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking moment?”
Her mouth found yours before you could reply, the kiss rough and commanding. You couldn’t think—only feel. The way her hands gripped your hips, the way her teeth scraped your bottom lip, the way her breath mingled with yours as though she intended to drown you in her need.
The next morning, you woke again in her bed. She was watching you, propped up on one elbow, her fingers idly playing with your hair.
“Good morning,” she purred, her voice soft and lazy, though her eyes held that same dangerous glint.
“Why… why me?” you asked, your voice trembling.
Her smile widened, and she leaned down until her lips hovered just above yours.
“Because you’re mine,” she whispered, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.
Her teeth grazed your ear, and you shivered. “And I don’t share.”
The days turned to weeks, and the line between fear and desire blurred beyond recognition. You found yourself waiting for her touch, aching for her attention, even as a small part of you screamed to run.
But there was no escaping her.
Agatha Harkness had claimed you in every way that mattered—body, blood, and soul.
And as her lips trailed down your neck, her sharp nails leaving burning paths along your skin, you knew you didn’t want her to let you go.
Because no one could consume you like she did.
No one could burn you so beautifully.
You belonged to her, entirely and inescapably.
And somehow, you didn’t care.
_-_-_
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inkskinned · 2 years ago
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for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.
i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.
in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.
the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.
i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.
i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.
i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.
the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.
when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.
we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.
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slaytheusurper · 21 days ago
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⭑ Family Secrets ⭑
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Masterlist
A/N: (s)creaming-
Request: No
Pairing: Perv!Aemond x Niece!reader
Warnings: NFSW, +18 mdni, male mastrubation, aemond fr being a nasty perv be warned no but like fr, female mastrubation/pillow humping, making out, dirty talk in high valyrian, p in v sex and creampie.
Summary: Aemond finds it hard to control his sick desires for his niece and can't help but play with her.
Word count: 5k
The sea waves crashed against the side of the large Targaryen fleet, nerves flowed through you at every shake of the wooden planks. Usually a voyage on the sea didn’t scare you in any way but the windy and stormy morning made it a lot less pleasant. Your brothers however didn’t seem to mind, the clinging of their swords ringing through the air.
They loved to practise whenever they could, and if you didn’t feel so unnerved by the weather you would’ve joined them. You were glad to see one of the servants coming towards you with a flagon of wine. Raising your cup she swiftly filled it with the red liquid. Sipping on the strong dornish wine, you tried to focus on anything but the assault of the waves.
The dragon calls could be heard above, Caraxes, Syrax, your own dragon, Vermax and Arrax soared along the ship. The walls shielded you from the sight of them though. The amber glow from the candles filled the darkened royal cabin, secluded on the quarterdeck of the ship. 
The dark clouds shielded the sun from shining its warmth on the waves of the sea and so even on the ship it was quite chilly. But nothing ran a shiver up your spine more than your family's return to King’s Landing. You didn’t understand the need for it but you didn’t have the nerve to tell your mother that.
The future queen was filled with dread herself, you noticed. Word had reached Dragon Stone from Alicent that King Viserys was in a bad condition and even though they had their differences, she felt like a reunion between father and daughter would do her husband some good.
And so the morning after the raven arrived, you had set sail. You wondered how your family was doing, but with the likely chances of this whole visit ending badly, you wished you could only wonder. But there was no turning back now as you looked out the small window and The Red Keep came into view.
And so it was only about half an hour later when your weakened legs stepped onto the shores of King’s Landing, a coach and some members of the King’s Guard waiting for you. Following your mother and Daemon, with your brothers behind you, a hand reached out to help you inside.
The rattling coach did not help calm you as you anticipated the whole ordeal, your mother spoke softly with Daemon about sending for maester Gerardys and your brothers both silently stared out the window. Everybody was tense, the unspoken past lingered in the air. It was only six years ago that your sweet younger brother Luke, took Aemond’s eye. 
Even though a little boy like him had no idea what he had done, it was still a grave wound that cut the family in half. What only made the situation worse was the bullying Aegon had led, making it seem like Luke had done it on purpose. Your uncle and yourself were never necessarily friends either, but at the least friendly with each other.
But who could blame him for hating all of you from that moment on? No one. It was only fueled by Alicent as well, her own spite for her step-daughter and her bastards burning inside her. Alas after all these years, you would have to face each other again. 
After what seemed ages you finally arrived within the courtyard of The Red Keep, the door of the coach opened and your mother stepped out as a shrill voice announced her, Daemon followed and so did you and your brothers. There, only a few paces in front of the coach were Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, Otto and three of the small council members. 
Your mother went first to greet them, Daemon by her side, hand on the hilt of his sword. Dragons could be heard and seen flying in circles above you, it gave you comfort that your own dragon was close, if something were to happen. You took a deep breath and followed with your brothers to greet Alicent, Otto and your uncles and aunt. It was awkward enough and thank the gods over quickly.
When you were led inside, nostalgia was the last thing you felt as you peered over your mother’s shoulder. All the Targaryen heraldry had been replaced, all with stars of the faith of the seven. You knew Alicent was quite religious but never had you thought she would dare such an insult. 
You could already hear the grumbles of Daemon in front of you, and you shared a look with Jace and Luke. You were all led to a more familiar place, the dining hall where you would share some food together at the start of the afternoon. You were glad when your place was between your brothers, it felt safer. A buffer of sorts. 
Servants filed in with various fruits, wines, breads and spreads for you to indulge in and it became a little less tense when there was some food to chew on. Since you had grown quite the appetite from the horrendous voyage here, you gathered some of your favourites on your plate and shared some quiet conversation with Jace and Luke.
It was better to keep them distracted and apart from Aemond, who sat at the other end. After a while, Alicent rose from her seat, cup in hand. “I wish to give a toast, to the Princess Rhaenyra. The circumstances of which we have gathered here are grim, but nevertheless it is a pleasure to receive you, and your family. To the princess.” She uttered, a bit too appropriate. 
Everyone raised their cups and took a sip, it was all very stale and tense. But you could tell that especially Aegon and Aemond tried to keep as quiet and ‘nice’ as possible. Helaena seemed almost out of it and Otto kept to himself. It was just Alicent who engaged in some polite conversation with your mother and Daemon, but always about the king.
It was quite dreadful, but when everyone seemed finished, the children were excused to explore their old home and get accustomed again, while the adults went to pay a visit to the king. Your heart rose when you realised there would only be guards around to keep an eye on you and your brothers.
Your mother and most importantly Daemon wouldn’t be able to defend you now, if anything happened. Both of your brothers joined your side as you strolled through the halls of the Red Keep. “Luke, I probably don’t have to say this but still, just- watch your back. He probably won’t try anything but I saw the way he looked at us, at you.” You whispered to your right. You noticed the way Luke’s shoulders tensed but he simply nodded. 
“Will you join us in the training yard?” Jace asked, a bit too chirpy. “Maybe I’ll visit you later, I need some air in the gardens, at least I can be certain I won’t bump into our uncles there.” He gave you a soft smile and then took off with Luke to the yard beyond the doors, two guards following them outside.
“Shall I escort you princess?” Ser Erryk asked, joining your side. “Has my mother asked you to keep an eye on me Ser?” He gave you an awkward smile. “Yes princess,” his next words fell to a whisper, “it would be safer.” You only gave him a nod and he stepped back a pace, making sure you still had your own space.
When you stepped outside, the sun had finally made an appearance. A quiet sigh left your lips and the smell of flowers and various plants filled your nose. It was almost the only place left untouched by Alicent and her stars. You strolled through the gardens, took in all the flowers and birds. Even the beautiful butterflies that were almost magically flying around.
A while later you stumbled across a bright ladybug resting on the leaf of a bush. You admired it for a while, having no idea someone was also admiring you... 
Aemond’s POV
He was quite grateful the strong bastards kept to themselves. As soon as he had entered the training yard, in search of Criston Cole, the both of them left as soon as they caught sight of the common louts admiring the training weapons. Only a brief look was shared and Cole joined him to turn back inside. 
“It is an insult to us, their presence alone. I can come to terms with the fact they live in my ancestors castle far away from us, but them being here now-” Aemond got cut off by Cole. “It is repulsive, them being here. But the best we can do is keep our distance, only look in their direction or even speak to them when absolutely necessary.” 
Aemond nodded, “Fucking mongrels, the girl is lucky to have silver hair or they would have her head the second her arse sat on the throne. But who knows, after my sister is dead, what will become of my niece?” He smirked, before turning towards his own chambers. His only place of safety and solitude.
Only he got distracted when he passed a window that overlooked the gardens. There she was, the lucky girl. To Aemond’s displeasure, she looked almost ethereal. The now softened wind breezing through her long silver curls, the sun making her hair almost glow. Her purple eyes inspecting a nearby bug or butterfly he would imagine. 
What made his mouth turn even more sour was where his eye almost naturally shifted to. Her body. She had rather matured and was only two years younger than him, her body now...more grown. Beautiful hips, tits that bulged slightly out of the top of her bodice. Long fingers adorned with rings, a necklace resting on her chest. 
He scolded himself for even stopping in his tracks in the first place. Her Valyrian features linger in his mind as he resumes to his chambers. Once there he tried to distract himself with some studying. He could hardly focus on the words, when her tits kept reappearing in his mind. Then it only got worse, his mind drifted off while he sat at his desk. 
Cock swelling alive at the thought of ripping that gown off her, her nipples would harden through her shift because of the breeze, her curves on better display through her smallclothes. But he would rip that off too, display her nakedness for all to see. Then he would get her on her knees, mouth open, tongue out and ready for him.
His cock was now pulsing, the outline of it extremely visible through his pants. He swiftly undid them and already found that precum stained his breeches. He palmed his cock and hissed at the sensitivity, he loved to wait a longer period between pleasuring himself, knowing that the sensation would be far better.
Even though he wanted to wait just one more day, he couldn’t help himself; he was way too aroused. He started to softly tug the skin over the head of his cock, face contorted in pleasure, a grunt left his lips. Fuck it felt good. He didn’t care what anyone would think, all that filled his mind was his pretty little niece.
Seven hells, the way she would gag and tear up around his cock as he fucked his cock in her mouth. Not giving a shit that they’d be out in public, gods she would probably touch herself too, the little whore she is. He could imagine it all too well, the way her tongue would glide over his sensitive skin. Would she know to lick his slit? Suck on his balls to give him even more pleasure? Even if she did not, he would teach her, corrupt her.
He could feel himself get closer and closer, tugging on his cock faster, his loud breathing filled his chambers, his groans bouncing off the walls. He moved his free hand to massage his stones, a whine leaving his lips at the added stimulation. Imagining it was her. With only a couple more tugs and firmer fondles on his balls, ropes of cum painted his thighs, hands and some on the cold stone floor.
He jerked himself a bit more, to fully empty his satiated balls until he got too sensitive, before fetching a rag to clean his hands and the floor up. Opting for a change of pants either way. Then an idea came to his mind, a sick and disgusting idea. He grabbed his cum covered pants and rolled them up to disguise the item.
He knew exactly what chamber she resided in, it was one of the chambers that was connected to the secluded and utmost secretive halls that Maegor created. And so he moved one of the books in the library, almost no one remained in the halls as it was already close to supper so he had free reign. 
The book allowed for a door to open, hidden as just another bookshelf and Aemond stepped inside, even just the thought of what he was about to do made excitement fill his chest. He used the torch he fetched off one off the walls in the hallways to navigate the dark secret corridors. 
His cum soiled pants still clutched tightly in his hands as he let the flame guide him, soon enough he was certain he had reached the right wall. He opened the small wooden door and entered a small and short hallway, a wooden screen blocking his way, but he discovered he could open it slightly and peer inside, only to be met with a thinner tapestry. 
And pleasantly sensed he could see through the fabric art that hung inside her chamber, and as if the gods had willed it so, she was still out. Her bed was on the opposite side of the room and his mind only filled with more perverted ideas as he realised he could watch her here at night. A new pastime he could enjoy, and she would have no idea.
Placing the torch in an empty holder in the small hallway. He moved the screen and tapestry to the side and strolled over to her bed. He could feel his cock swell alive again as he placed his pants on her bed, not fully spreading it out yet. He wanted to watch her unfold them, and question what the stickiness on it was.
Satisfied with his work, he was certain she must return soon to freshen up before supper. He knew ladies always did. So he left her chambers and waited for her behind the slightly ajar wooden screen, making sure the tapestry covered it again. His perfect little hiding spot. It seemed as if hours passed yet it was only about twenty minutes when the door opened and she entered.
Your POV
“Would you need the help of a handmaiden, your grace?” Ser Erryk politely asked. You shook your head, “That won’t be necessary, thank you. I’ll be quick.” He nodded curtly and closed the door of your chamber behind you. You walked over to the vanity against the wall and found that your household had already unpacked your jewelry, you wanted to change your earrings and necklace for a nicer pair and then would head right to supper. 
When you had finished changing them out, you felt a weird sensation. You peered around the room but of course no one was there, right? You blamed the long morning for your weird feelings but then spotted something on your bed. Has one of the servants readied something for you? You walked over to your bed to find out what it was.
It was a black fabric, leather, and looked like what seemed to be pants. Your face twisted in confusion and grabbed it to unfold them and confirm your suspicion. Further confusion washed over your face as the pants were not only for men but they were dirty. Was this some twisted joke? 
You quickly let go of it and it fell to the floor, you thought of fetching a maid to get it out but then thought against it. What if they thought you had a man in here and your innocence was ruined? It was too big a risk, then your eyes shifted to the fireplace. Filled with disgust you grabbed the leather pants by the end of the leg and dragged it to the flames, throwing in the pants.
The room filled with an uncomfortable smell of the charring leather and you hurriedly went outside, Ser Erryk trailing behind you as you made your way to the dining hall.
Aemond’s POV
His hand undid the laces of his pants as he watched you eye the black material with caution. Palming his cock as you now dropped it to the floor with disgust. His lips fell agape as he tugged on his cock, feeling more aroused and sensitive than ever before. Fuck it felt even better then the very first time he mastrubated. 
He felt his release near when you had thrown the soiled pants in the fire, the smell of burning leather somehow turning him on even more. He stifled his groans with his mouth as he jerked himself to release, his cum painted the floor and his hand, as he was careful not to stain his clean pants this time. 
He cleaned his hand up with his own mouth and left the floor for what it was. He moved his now soft cock back in his breeches. Lacing his pants up again, he started his walk to one of the hallways of the Red Keep, he kept his ear to the unassuming door and heard nothing. He found the small servants hallway empty and quickly made his way to the dining hall.
Your POV
Heads raised as Aemond walked in, a soft satisfied smile on his face. “You're late.” Otto spoke. “I had matters to attend to.” He replied coldly before taking his seat. You avoided his gaze as you could feel it on you and continued picking at the rabbit meat before you. The sticky pants had never left your mind.
Supper was not so much different from your shared meal earlier, still polite conversations and the table almost split in half. But this time your eyes kept glancing back at Aemond. Why was he so content all of a sudden? Maybe he just had a good training in the yard with Cole, as you heard they spent a lot of time training together.
You decide to ignore it and finish the remainder of your meal, before long you were excused once again, and this time decided to head straight to your chambers. A bath and a good book afterwards would calm you. And so it did, after a nice hot bath and slipping into a fresh clean nightgown, you had read a bit of your new found book and lulled into a deep sleep, but still Aemond’s eye felt like it never left you.
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The following days were filled with garden visits, sowing work with Helaena and some other ladies of court and avoiding your 'green' family at all costs. But much to your surprise it seemed Alicent and your mother got along pretty well, which could only be bad for you. 
Happy memories of King’s Landing never left your mind at the cold and stormy island of Dragon Stone, but now you missed it and you missed your dragon. So on the fourth day after your arrival, you headed to the dragonpit along with Jace and Luke. You felt like you could stay on dragonback forever, with your brothers flying close to you but the sun was setting and it was time to head back.
After a meal shared with just your brothers as the three of you were too late for supper, you found yourself back in your chambers. But not without some entertainment, one of the ladies of court was a pleasant company, and you felt relief wash over you as her laughter and humorous jokes fell on your ears. 
You were the same age and shared similar personalities, her father was a member of the small council and so she had the pleasure of the Red Keep’s walls protecting her, as well as learning all the gossip and the secrets, which she gladly shares with you. And so she shared all she knew, of how horrible a marriage Helaena and Aegon had, how their children were so unhappy and of putting. 
But then she said something that really caught your attention. “I heard one of the maids the other day, she said she was certain she could hear prince Aemond, well- how do I put this, having… fun? With himself? If you catch my meaning.” She giggled. Your mouth fell open and a loud laugh left you. 
“I do catch your meaning!” You laughed, she couldn’t help but laugh too. You couldn’t believe it, you never knew men did that too. Your knowledge went as far as that they used whores when they had urges. You thought only women did it, since many men didn’t care about women’s pleasure. 
She filled you in on much and more, about how many were certain Aegon has a thing for unflowering maidens and how Larys Clubfoot had an obsession with feet. Much to your dismay, it had grown late and she sadly had to go to her own chambers. As you said your goodbyes, you couldn’t help but feel it again. Like someone was watching you. 
You shook off the feeling and called for your handmaiden to ready you for bed. She took down your hair from your beautiful braids that day, helped you undress and bathe. Then she waved your hair in a single braid and helped you into your nightgown. When she left, you slipped into bed, however tonight, sleep could not find you.
You went over the day, as you usually did when you couldn’t sleep. But your mind kept hanging on to what your new friend said, Aemond pleasuring himself. You tried to think back on your flight today but you couldn’t help it. Why was the thought so erotic to you? You shouldn’t think about your uncle this way but still, your hand snaked down between your thighs.
Your cunt throbbed with desire, and you lifted your ass a bit to lift up your nightgown, as it was a hotter day, you had nothing underneath. Your fingers caressed your folds and you couldn’t help the whimper falling from your lips. But it wasn’t enough, you craved more. Then something occurred to you, you shoved the blankets off you and grabbed your pillow. 
You knelt on the bed and placed the pillow between your thighs, nerves flowing through you as well as excitement. When you thought the pillow was well placed on the long side of it, you sank down on it and leaned forward a bit. When you felt the position was good, you experimentally grinded your clit against it.
An uncontrollable moan left your lips and you hoped Ser Erryk hadn’t heard anything, you stilled for a moment but nothing happened, so you resumed. You rolled your hips against the pillow again and you allowed for soft whines to leave your lips. The rough but soft enough fabric against your clit had your mind dazed.
You humped the pillow like a bunny in heat, your clit getting the perfect stimulation from your pillow. Soft moans left you as you chased your release and you couldn’t help but imagine your dear uncle. So you let it consume you and let your desire for him flow through you. It made you burn with arousal and you imagined you were humping his lap instead. 
It didn’t take long for your peak to overcome you, and you frantically humped the pillow as you were near. The bed creaked with your wild movements and you couldn’t help but moan his name, you were so so close. With a louder whine of ‘Aemond, I’m cumming uncle!’ Your orgasm exploded and your thighs clenched the pillow between them hard. And with a few more grinds, you let yourself fall to your side, mind completely fogged and in bliss.
Then a loud scratch of wood on stone, pulled you out of your daze. You gasped and quickly pulled your blankets over yourself to cover your nakedness. Your eyes were met with Aemond’s single one as he emerged from behind the screen, he walked over to the foot of your bed.
“W-what are you doing here? Get out, at once, get out.” You stammered. But he just smiled. “Is that what you wish? I could give you far more pleasure than your pillow ever could niece.” Your face fell at his words and you held your breath as he came over to the side of your bed. “I heard what you and your little friend talked about, and I bet that it turned you on, didn’t it.” 
It was hard to deny since you just came with his name on your lips but you couldn’t speak. Frozen in shock. “Hm. Don’t worry, I think about you too, when I’m having fun with myself.” He smiled. Realisation dawned on your face. “The pants.” Aemond grinned. “A little gift from me, did you like it?”
You couldn’t help but feel wet at the thought that they were from him, but you quickly reprimanded yourself. It was wrong, not only him being here but everything about this was wrong. “Oh come on, you moaned my name so sweetly just now. Don’t you want your Kepus to actually pleasure you?” You could only shake your head. 
“Aemond- no, no it’s wrong. We can’t.” He chuckled in response. “Are we going to ignore that your mother is married to her uncle? So how is it wrong? You are mine. And I will have you.” He then raised his knee and climbed on your bed, but you made no move to run from him. Too excited to see what he would do next. “I see you are staying put, you can say no all you want, but I know how much you want me, as much as I want you.” 
“Ivestragon nyke, gaomagon ao gīmigon īlva muña ēngos?” Tell me, do you know our mother tongue? You nodded, “Gaoman Kepus.” I do uncle. “Sȳz riña.” Good girl. Aemond smiled. Then his hand moved to the edge of your blanket which you were still using to cover yourself. He pulled it off you and let his eye roam over your naked form.
“Fuck.” He whispered, he was already wet in his pants due to the amount of precum that leaked out of him at the sight of your humping, but now he couldn’t wait. “Gaomagon ao pendagon kostā gūrogon nyke? Kostagon mazemā aōha Kepus?” Do you think you can take me? Can you take your uncle? You knew the weight of his words but desire and lust clouded your senses, your will to refuse.
“Kessa, Nyke jorrāelagon ao sīr olvie Kepus.” Yes, I need you so much uncle. He hurriedly unlaced his pants at your words and took his cock from his breeches, stroking himself at the sight of your tits. But he was a gentleman and wouldn’t treat you like a whore. So he fully undressed, and crawled on top of you. 
“Vūjigon nyke tala.” Kiss me niece. You lifted your head to meet his lips, you gave him a peck but that did not satisfy him, he pulled you back and kissed you with greed. His lips harshly moving against you, his hand then massaged your breast, making you gasp against his lips. Then his tongue invaded your mouth.
His hand moved to your cunt and he let his finger inside. He let go of your lips so that the both of you could catch your breath. “Still wet for me aren’t you, so warm and slick.” He groaned, retreating his finger to grab the base of his cock instead. “Kostilus Kepus.” Please uncle. 
He had mercy, and let the tip of his cock glide through your folds, before carefully prodding in his tip. He moved just the tip in and out of you for a while, letting you get accustomed to the new sensation. But you were never one for patience. “Sepār gūrogon nyke Kepus, gūrogon nyke. Mazverdagon nyke aōhon” Just take me uncle, take me. Make me yours. 
He shuddered at your words, and let his length fully sheath inside of you, the both of you moaning at the stretch and tightness. When he noticed you weren’t in much pain he began to move, rubbing your pearl as he thrusted up into you. You bit your lip to keep as quiet as possible, but the way you uncle was fucking you, made that quite hard.
He groaned and moaned shamelessly. The squelching of your shared juices and the creaking of your bed enveloping your chamber. Soon he sped up his movements and his balls slapped loudly against your ass. Only adding to the sensation. “Kesan mazverdagon ao ñuhon, leghagon ao, mazverdagon aōha iemny hōzigon.” I will make you mine, fill you, make your belly swell. 
You finally audibly moaned at his words and it earned you a groan from him. Your uncle was filling you up so good, who could blame you? His cock pounding into you as he rubbed your sensitive clit made you actually see stars as you squeezed your eyes shut. And for the second time tonight, you moaned his name. Your tight walls clenching around his cock making him pant louder and roll his eye back.
He didn’t stop as you came down from your peak, grinding his hips fiercely against you when he cried out your name, his warm seed filling you. He humped his high out a bit and made sure to fully empty himself. When he had calmed too, he removed his now soft cock out of you, making you wince. “Gaomagon daor zūgagon, kesā daor jikagon arlī naejot Dragon Stone.” Do not fear, you will not go back to Dragon Stone.
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lovebugism · 2 years ago
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could i request “mean” eddie and reader going swimming somewhere and maybe she’s in her swimsuit and someone says something that makes him jealous? also just want to say i love you writing sm!!! <3
hi, lovely! thanks so much for your request and your kind words!! i hope you like it xoxo (1.7k)
bug's summer fic fest ♡
Eddie can’t stop staring at you.
It’s not like it’s his fault, though. You’re all sprawled out beside him in a plastic lounge chair, clad only in a bathing suit that leaves little to the imagination. It’s an all-black number with little white bats all over it, clinging to you like it was made to do it.
It’s a wonder the two of you even made it to Hawkins Community Pool, honestly. Eddie's thoughts verge on obscene at the sight of you. But then again, they tend to when you're on his mind.
You lay with your hands folded above your head, totally surrendering yourself to the golden sunlight. It gives Eddie the opportunity to gaze at you fully — even though sometimes he thinks he’s already memorized you by now.
He analyzes you like it’s the first time he’s ever seen you, like you’re the last thing he’ll ever see.
The pudge of the top of your breast spills over the hem of your bikini. The skin of your stomach bulges underneath your high-waisted bottoms. The fullness of your thighs begins to glow beneath the glittering daylight.
He commits all of this to memory and figures maybe that’s what the sun’s doing too, as it paints your skin more golden.
He doesn’t know how he got you. 
But he hopes your eyes are closed behind your thick glasses. Or, at the very least, that they block your view of him. Eddie knows he’s unabashedly staring at you, but he also knows he can’t stop. He doesn’t want his ogling to be met with your teasing — even if he is deserving of it.
The Lord of the Rings book in his hands goes quickly abandoned. It’s a feat he even made it to page fifty. He’s flipped through it enough times to memorize it, though. Sort of like you.
Like the novel, he could read you a million times and never get bored. The only real difference is he finds you much, much sexier than printed words on a page.
“I can feel you staring, you know?” 
Your voice jolts him from his stupor, light and golden like the slowly setting sun. Your words are nearly drowned out by the sounds of the bustling pool — screaming kids, splashing water, and people trying to converse over it all.
Eddie’s far too attuned to you not to hear you, though.
You’re not looking at him, but he can see the corner of your lip quirk in a slight half-smile.
“Can you?” he deadpans, turning back to his book like he hadn’t been looking at you at all.
The words are all mush, though. He’ll blame it on the stifling summer heat. He was the idiot out here in a black t-shirt and trunks, after all.
“Yeah,” you nod.
He sees your smile completely when you turn to look at him. The sun pierces through your amber lenses, making your eyes more visible beneath them. You’ve got one eye squinted to evade the blinding light. The beam you wear is somehow brighter.
“’S like spidey senses, you know? I can always tell when you’re looking at me, Munson.”
Eddie wants to be embarrassed at the thought. He knows that you’re joking — if only just the slightest bit — but it makes him think about all the other times he’s shamelessly gawked at you. He spent years doing it before you ever got together.
Many of his high school years were spent paying more attention to you than his homework. He thinks maybe that’s why he had such a hard time graduating.
“You’re saying my girlfriend’s a superhero?” the boy jokes, brows raised behind his curly bangs and chocolate eyes going wide. They look more golden in the sunlight, and they twinkle with mischief.
“Uh-huh,” you hum with a wider smile than before. “You didn’t know?”
He shakes his head. Some of his curls still stick to him, damp with the sweat beading on his milky skin. “No. I can confidently say that I didn’t.”
“Good. It was supposed to be a secret, anyway.”
Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but he does.
It’s a sharp exhale through his nose more than anything, paired with a crooked pink smile. He wishes he knew how much of a dork you were a year ago. He might’ve asked you out sooner.
“Brush up on your spidey senses before you go out patrolling the neighborhood, alright, Spiderwoman?” he jests in a monotone, turning the page of his book even though he hadn’t actually read it. “’Cause I totally wasn’t staring at you.”
You know he’s lying.
And it’s not just because you could feel it — even though you think his button-eyed gaze can be palpable in its attentiveness at times. But what you lacked in superhero senses, you made up for in awareness of all things Eddie Munson. 
You knew when he got quiet that he was in his own head. And being that you hadn’t heard a single page turn in several minutes, you figured his eyes must’ve been on something other than the book in his hands.
Your quip was hardly more than a lucky guess, really.
“Good,” you hum as you flip over onto your stomach. Your backside had been completely deprived of sunlight before now. You prop yourself up on your elbows and lift your sunglasses to the top of your head. Your teasing gaze is no longer amber-coated. “‘Cause that would mean you find me attractive.”
“And that would just be a travesty, wouldn’t it?” Eddie scoffs.
He looks over at you again and finds your changed position. Your back is pointed towards the sun now, the very bottom of your ass on full display. Your thighs are indented softly from the slatted chair beneath you.
He can’t pry his eyes off the combination of the two despite knowing you’re watching him right back.
“It’s okay if you have the hots for me, Eds,” you tell him, feigning sympathy. “I’d only make fun of you a little bit.”
Eddie stays silent for half a moment too long, then shakes his head to dismiss the thought. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. It’s just the heat.”
You scoff. “Yeah. Let’s blame the way you’re ogling at me on sunstroke.”
He still finds it a bit difficult to be your boyfriend sometimes — or just a boyfriend. And it’s not because of you. Not in the slightest. He just sort of put a wall around himself when he was younger. He’s been behind it so long he’s forgotten how to let people back in.  
And even though he hasn’t said it yet, he loves the goddamn shit outta you. But for some reason, he can’t let himself be vulnerable in that way — can’t even ask to touch you without coming up with some lame excuse that covers up all his vulnerable-ness.
“You, uh… You put sunscreen on, right?” he asks, shifting slightly in his chair. He spares a brief glance your way from the corner of his eye, halfway concealed by the fluffy brown curls framing his face.
“Yeah?” you answer with pinched brows. “Right after I forced you to put some on, remember?”
He scrunches his nose as he squints at you. It takes everything in you not to lean over and kiss the tip of it. “I don’t know,” the boy singsongs as he tilts his head to his shoulder. “I don’t remember it, actually…”
“Then maybe you’re the one that needs to get checked out, Eds.”
“I think I should just put some lotion on your back,” he summarizes with a shrug, already rising from his chair to swing his legs over the side of it. “You know, just to be safe.”
The teasing glint in his eyes makes you grin. You trap your bottom lip between your teeth to dim its brightness, lest how happy he makes you go to his head.
Your feet lift in their air and twist together with a girlish excitement. It makes your ass wiggle gently. Eddie swears you’re doing it just to tease him.
“Get my legs, too, while you’re at, yeah?” you quip.
Eddie reaches for the tote beside your chair with an effervescence that can only be described as a boy on Christmas morning — his present: the opportunity to touch you. He rises again with the blue bottle in his hand.
A low whistle sounds from behind the both of you.
“Looking good, sweetheart,” Billy compliments with a smirk as he walks by your chair. He’s in his lifeguard uniform — a pair of red swim trunks and his toned, golden torso.
He lifts his sunglasses from his face and rests them on top of his curled mullet. His crystal blue eyes gape at you, far sharper than Eddie’s chocolate syrup ones.
“Bite me, Hargrove,” you deadpan in response.
“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, chomping spearmint gum between his pearly white teeth. He spins on his flip-flops and walks backward to keep ogling at you. “Just give me the word and I’m yours, darlin’.”
He disappears in the bustling crowd after that, fading like rubbed-in sunscreen. You forget about him the second he’s gone.
He’s always been an asshole like that. It’d be a rookie mistake to give more than half a shit about him. But Eddie still feels the boy’s presence like a mean, lean, green monster full of envy. It’s like he’s still there — close enough to punch, even.
He isn’t sure if it’s the heat or if he’s actually seeing red.
“What an asshole,” you murmur under your breath.
“I’m gonna kill him,” Eddie snaps.
“Whoa,” you drawl within a laugh. “Slow your roll, tiger.”
The boy's eyes go wide as he looks over at you again. “I’m not even sure what I just said, honestly.”
“You’re a dork who plays Dungeons and Dragons, remember? You can’t start talking about fighting Billy Hargrove.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he sighs, rigid body finally loosening with the heavy exhale. He squints at you after. “You don’t think I could take him?”
“I don’t thank you have to,” you lilt.
“That’s such a non-answer, babe.”
“I’m just saying,” you giggle with a shrug. “I’m asking you to feel me up, Eds. Not that creep.”
A rosy smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, smug and full of love.
You meet it with a grin of your own. 
“C’mon, I’m burning to a crisp over here,” you urge, shifting in the chair just to make your thighs jiggle in the way you know Eddie likes.
His eyes glaze over at the sight — one he’s seen a million times now — and you know it’s done the trick.
“Let’s give Hargrove a show, yeah?”
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tetzoro · 10 months ago
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self indulgent fluff because this man makes me yearn hehe divider by @/cafekitsune ! — WC : 748
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“noooo, tetsu.” you clutch onto him tighter, head still resting on his chest. you can hear the rumble of his laugh as he eases back down into his spot right next to you. “don’t go.”
“i have to, sweetheart.” kuroo rubs your back tenderly, pressing a chaste kiss on the top of your head. it was a weeknight and both of you had to be up early for work in the morning.
“you don’t want to stay?” a childish question that you can’t help but ask, a pout lining your lips. you must look absolutely pitiful judging by the look he’s giving you.
“you know i want to.” his arms tighten around you in a small apology. you can sense the dreaded ‘but’ ready to spill from the tip of his tongue so you beat him to the punch.
“so stay.” you grin up at him, chin resting on his chest. the close proximity has his eyes softening around the edges, mouth opening and closing as he tries to explain his reasoning for going. but all logic gets thrown at the window when he catches the hopeful look you cast at him.
“okay.” kuroo gives in. how could he not? saying no to you was an impossible task. “i’ll just get up earlier so i can go home and change.”
“yay! thank you tetsu.” you jolt up, planting kisses all over his face. he can’t help but laugh at your sudden burst of energy, relishing in all the love you pour onto him.
“of course.” kuroo gives you a kiss on the lips, pulling back just so he could see your smile. “im the best boyfriend ever after all.”
“yeah, yeah.” you giggle.
the two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, your mind beginning to wander a little as an idea pops in your head. it’s almost like he can see the gears turning, a little lightbulb popping up and demanding attention.
“maybe…” you start but trail off, losing whatever nerve you had.
“maybe?” kuroo gently caresses your cheek, encouraging you to continue.
“maybe you could keep some work clothes here? you know…” you trail off again. “you know so you don’t have to rush home to change in the future.”
“and show up to work together?” he grins, sitting up, back resting against the headboard as he pulls you into his lap. “my my, what a scandal. what will the people say?”
“tetsu, i’m pretty sure the whole office knows we’re dating.” you roll your eyes.
kuroo’s eyebrows dramatically shot up far behind his bangs. he was well versed in whatever drama was circulating around the office, a secret fiend for gossip so you knew damn well he’s heard the rumors too. and yet…
“oh yeah? how do you know?” the pads of kuroo’s fingertips patter down along your back as he watches you carefully — catlike instincts trained onto you.
“because people gossip and we aren’t exactly the most discreet.”
“we are discreet!” kuroo looks mildly offended and if you didn’t know him so well, you think you’d had actually struck a nerve.
“babe, they caught us kissing at the the last work party.” you poke his cheek. “not to mention what some of them have been subjected to at happy hour.”
“you make it sound like we’re going at it 24/7 in the office, jeez.” he pouts, looking off to the side.
“i’m just telling you how it is.” you shrug, a teasing smile gracing your features. “i suppose you just can’t keep your hands off me.”
“why you little…” he tickles your side, causing you to giggle and squirm in his lap. after a moment he shows mercy and relents, nuzzling his nose against your face.
“so yeah, i don’t think it would be a big deal if we started going to work together.” you conclude, your voice just above a whisper now. kuroo pretends to ponder it for a moment before something else shifts in his amber eyes.
“noted.” he smirks, half lidded eyes set on you. “you know, you kinda owe me now for staying the night.”
“how’s that?”
“i’ve got to get up extra early, forgo my run and everything. you know how important cardio is to me.” he leans forward, lips ghosting your own as you suck in a bated breath.
“i guess we’ll have to find a suitable alternative for you then.” you pivot, straddling his lap and running your hands through his messy ink hair.
“oh i have a few ideas.” kuroo smirks, closing the gap between you as his lips touch yours.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 year ago
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Being the leader of your platoon and fucking you at the same time isn't something Simon wants paraded around, for both of your benefit as trouble could come from such a relationship. But keeping it a secret has become a problem as you've been out on a mission for a couple months with no physical contact to be had. The moment you return Simon has to have you...even though you are both filthy as fuck.
Authors Note: Nothing can stop me from getting at this man... Nothing.
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings:
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Adjusting himself lower in his seat to get more comfortable, Simon spread his legs a little wider while stretching one out straight to hide and accommodate the growing bulge between his legs. The stiflingly humid air of the cabin inside the aircraft was not helping his predicament. Hungry eyes surveyed his team inside the plane one by one, moving from face to familiar face until he landed on the one he had been secretly looking for: yours. 
On the opposite side, towards the cockpit of the aircraft was where you sat as that starving wolf caught you in his sights. The cool and collected Lieutenant shifted again restlessly as his gaze lingered on your face with only one thing going through his mind, the same thing that had been there the entire fucking duration of this mission. Lucky for him that his mask afforded him the luxury of keeping his eyes covered in shadow so that he could watch you without looking too suspicious to those around.
Your lips upturned into a smile as you chatted with the private to your left, passing the time until you all returned to base and Simon could not help but feel a twinge of jealousy. It should be him that you were sitting next to, close enough that he could reach a sneaky hand across his lap to squeeze onto your thigh or lean in and whisper all the filthy things he wanted to do with you the second you both got the chance, but secrecy was the name of the game so that wasn’t an option.
Still, it wasn’t as if he was complaining about getting to look at you from afar. As he watched you go about business as usual, his mouth began to salivate as his amber eyes followed the curve of those full, plump lips through their movements as you spoke, that gnawing hunger growing stronger by the second as he wondered how fucking good they would taste against his own once he got them again. So lost in his own thoughts, daydreaming scenarios of how it would happen he became oblivious to the world around him.
Suddenly that cold awareness that he was being watched brought him back into the interior of the plane and as he refocused his eyes he was met with yours staring straight back at him. Taking your bottom lip into your mouth you bit it coyly before shooting him a smirk sly enough to match a foxes, causing the Lieutenant's pulse to quicken in his veins. Turning his head as he cleared his throat, he tried to focus on something else, but his heartbeat continued to pound heavy in his chest.
Were you thinking the same things? Were you burning for him just as much as he was burning for you?
It’d been a hot fucking minute since he had felt your touch and the ache in his cock was beginning to keep him at a constant level of agitation that left him with a short fucking fuse his team was beginning to notice. Sure his hand was fine, it did the trick in a pinch, but to really sate the serpent he needed your moist, tight cunt to bury himself in and the agony of having to wait to have you all to himself had been on his mind even more lately.
Ten weeks, ten goddamn weeks that he could look, but not touch; fantasize, but not indulge, crave, but never sait and fuck was it damn near impossible now to dismiss those visions of you breathless and naked, whimpering under him in his bed that ran rampant through his mind. Focusing on the task at hand was top priority of course, but Simon was a master at multitasking  and being in such close proximity to all that temptation while trying to remain professional and hide away the fact that you two were involved had caused his mind to constantly wander back to you.  
Who gave you the goddamn right to be such a delicious distraction? 
It had taken a herculean effort on his part to divert his gaze and steady his mind and though he had a modicum of success up until today, he found that he could not maintain that calm any longer. The mission had been lucrative and through the haze of adrenaline, something inside Simon had awoken in a fury so severe that enough was enough; he had to have you as soon as physically possible no matter what.
There was no more time.  
ETA ten minutes till return to base the update hit his headset and Simon took a deep breath; the agonizing torture was almost over and the gears began to turn on just how he would get you alone because waiting a minute more than necessary was no longer an option. Careful not to draw attention, he adjusted the crotch of his pants with his hand; good thing his uniform was on the baggy side or else he would definitely be giving a fucking show right about now. 
The second the craft landed everyone was itching to get out of that stifling atmosphere and make their way outside where they could catch a breeze. As the back of the plane lowered, people were already scrambling out and into the evening sun. One by one Simon watched as his squad deployed from the craft until only a few stragglers remained, one of which was the exact person he needed. 
“Specialist Y/L/N,” he called out to you as he made his approach, trying to meter his gruff tone so that he would not sound too excited while there were others still present.
“Sir?” you returned in proper fashion as you turned to face him, heart skipping a beat. 
So close, so fucking close. Just a little more and he’d have you again. “Need to have a word with ya, in private,” he stated plainly.
You gave him one short nod. “Of course, sir,” you said, giving the private you were speaking with the go ahead to leave you two alone and off they went with the last of your team to leave you both in seclusion completely unaware of what was really going on.  
…as if they couldn’t see how the Lieutenant’s gaze always seemed to linger a bit too long on you or how whenever you two were near there was a noticeable tension in the air.
Simon clocked the area, watching as the last of the privates and other personnel moved on further into the base and as soon as he was sure you two were alone, he closed the respectful distance between your bodies as his hand clasped on the buckle of your uniform to pull you in close.
“It’s been a long fuckin’ while, sweetheart,” he said, that gruff tone dripping with need.
You stared back up at him, the heat perking in your cheeks as your heartbeat thudded in your ears. “Too long,” you agreed.
“Gettin’ harder and harder to contain myself when I’ve gone that long without ya,” his fingers slid around just over the inner edge of your waistband causing tiny pinpricks of cold sweat to tingle along the back of your neck. “All ‘a this just out of my fuckin’ reach; too many eyes watchin’ us constantly that I can’t even touch ya without some bastard catchin’ us. It’s been hell.”
“I’ve been squeezing my thighs together all flight, but…” you admitted before you turned your head to the right and then the left before coming back to his face, “...seems we’re alone now.” Your breath hitched in your chest as you waited for what he was gonna do next. 
The day was warm, but as you both stood there with weeks worth of pent up sexual tension the air seemed to thicken until it was too hard to breathe. Simon paused as if weighing out something in his mind, his eyes drifting down your face slowly along four distinct points to stop and focus on your mouth before coming back up and meeting your gaze.
Without warning that 6’4” wall of muscle was on your body and shoving you by the hips until your back hit against the interior wall of the plane. Lightning fast, Simon wrenched the bottom of his mask up just over his nose, catching your chin in his grasp as he jerked it up and met your lips with a fiery intensity that instantly made your knees buckle and your mind short circuit. Sloppy embraces of his mouth against yours aggressively stole kiss after burning kiss while a thick layer of light brown stubble that covered his cheeks and along his jawline, a product of weeks without a razor at hand, pricked against your face as he pressed his firmly against your own. 
All you could taste was the sharp bite of tobacco as his thick tongue thrust past your lips and into the interior of that warm, wet cavern where it slithered over your tongue and towards your throat. Mouth open, eyes closed, he completely filled you full until you nearly choked on that determined bit of muscle, a kiss that was all encompassing and rough. His cracked lips ground over the surface of yours until they were raw and bruised to match.
With his body pressed into the curves of your own, you repositioned your right leg so that your thigh nestled up into the crotch of his pants. God he was hard, throbbing and straining into the meat of your thigh. He grunted heavy into your mouth as his grip tightened on your jaw, tilting his hips inward so that he could ground his bulge against your leg, his cock so stiff he was about to rip a hole straight through the fabric. 
“Can’t wait, need ya right fuckin’ now,” he panted desperately through the breaks in your mouth’s connection, drunk on your taste. The hand that was free slithered around the small of your back and up under your uniform jacket through the perspiration coating your skin to find its way inside your pants.   
“We’ve been baking for a couple days now, wouldn’t you rather I had a shower first?” you questioned and punctuated it with a moan as his palm found purchase on the curve of your ass and gave it a hard squeeze with as much as he could grab.
There was no hesitation, not a single fucking second passed where he even had to think about it. “Fuck gettin’ clean; no need for what I plan on doin’ to ya.”  
Christ he was filthy; honestly you both were. Not much showering out in the field this time around and it had been a good few days of sweating on the tail end that culminated in a distinct scent that radiated off his skin, mixing with the pungent aroma of gunpowder and the spicy sting of cigarettes on his breath; it was an olfactory experience that should have made your skin crawl, but you found the opposite.
You were just as needy for him even if he was absolutely disgusting. Maybe even more so.
“Where?” you groaned, needing him to make up his mind quickly. 
Ripping his mouth away from yours, he watched a string of spittle glisten as it was pulled from your lips before concealing his face again so that you could move. No words needed as he took your hand and led you out into the evening sun, his booted steps fast and heavy. The munitions depot was barely a two minute walk from where you were now and that was about all the waiting could tolerate. 
It was a goddamn miracle that the place was empty for the moment and quickly he used his clearance to enter, the sound of the door thudding open as he flung it while pulling you inside rang through the quiet space. The latch had barely clicked before he was picking you up and setting you on the nearest table, swiping away anything on the surface that would get in his way. You matched his speed as your hands were on the cloth of his mask to pull the damned thing off so you could finally see him properly for the first time in months. 
You tossed the damp facial covering to the ground and stared back into that face you’d missed all this time. Soggy dirty blonde locks clung to his head, plastered down from a combination of his mask and the sweat glistening over his face. The black rimming his eyes shimmered wet-like as it collected moisture from his forehead. Even in this state he was a goddamn gorgeous specimen. It could very well have just been you, but shit did he make filthy look good. 
“What are you waiting for?” you questioned back with a cocky raise of your eyebrow.
 
Simon smirked and dove right back in; he didn’t need to be told at all, let alone twice to get his fill. Heated kisses burned your raw mouth as he pressed your lips together hard so that your nose was buried in his face. As your lips danced, those large hands pawed harshly at your body to go up and under your uniform, ripping through the buttons to reach the t-shirt underneath, parting through the fabric to search for any bare piece of skin that he could find. Gloves already off, the pads of his calloused fingertips drug across the smooth flesh of your stomach, abrading the skin as they moved up towards your chest, tugging your t-shirt to stretch it to its limits. His blunt nails nicked you a few times, making you hiss into his mouth as they left red, raised marks behind.
A little souvenir to take with you the next few days to remember him by. Good, you’d cherish them until they’d dissipate; it had been too long since you’d worn his signature.
Feeling around up under the fabric was nice, but these clothes had to go; your body had been hidden by them for far too long and he was tired of knowing exactly what lay under there but not being able to see it. He jerked off the outer layer of your uniform before tearing your shirt up and over your head. Free of the barrier he pushed you back down onto the tabletop, your legs wrapping around his hips as he gripped into yours to pull you flush against him so that you were being pierced by his cock through his clothes. 
One more quick rough kiss before his lips were trailing down the side of your neck and across your chest, stopping so that he could fill his mouth with as much of your tits as he could fit without suffocating. The sweat made your flesh salty to the taste and as he sucked hard on the fullness of your breasts, one after the other, it filled his mouth. 
That agile tongue of his flicked around each nipple, circling around the areolas until that pleasure center in your brain lit up and had your back arching to push your tits further onto his face. Simon snarled into your chest so that you could feel the sound vibrate through you as the feeling of being enveloped by all that supple, yielding flesh made him even more feral. Goddammit, the more he sucked in the more he wanted until the pressure made the roof of his mouth sting and yet he held out longer still just to be sure he had had enough.
No sense in rushing… 
Emerging from you gulping for air, eye black smudged across his eyes and nose, he did not stop as he continued down the line of your body with his exploring lips: down your chest and over your stomach to just below your belly button. “Ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he stuttered with a groan low and guttural. “So fuckin’ good.”
But it wasn’t anywhere near enough for him yet. With a grunt he wrestled the clothing off of his top half, thick chest and torso speckled with perspiration glistening through the hair covering him as he stared down over top of you, those strong hands making quick work of your belt until it hung loose from the loops. The scent of his heady musk intoxicated you now that it was no longer contained by his clothing, something in the zesty notes made your mouth water uncontrollably.
Flicking his eyes back up to your face he licked his lips before bending over your lower half. “I need more,” the primal growl made your body shiver as he took the bit of cloth around the button of your pants into his teeth and ripped at it until he had them undone.
Simon pulled them off and threw them down to the ground and out of his fucking way to then again bend over your torso, placing heated kisses to your hips as this time his mouth took hold of the waistband of your panties and keeping them secure in between his lips he lowered himself onto his knees, taking them with him until they were down around your ankles and he could slip them off. 
Immediately one of those large hands palmed your right thigh to bring it to his mouth as he leaned his face to it, teeth ready to gnaw at the tender, plump meat. Bites sunk in firmly, but not too hard and his unkempt stubble rubbed over the indentations as he went along until you felt like your skin was on fire.  
“Fuck,” you whimpered into the air as a rush of contradicting sensations flooded your body to overload your senses. Your hips writhed wildly the higher he went up that tender inner thigh until he stopped right at the top of your leg. You knew what was coming, knew what he was going to do, and though you may have been hesitant due to your lack of proper hygiene, if Lt. Simon Riley wanted something he was going to get it no matter what.
Your untamed bank beckoned him toward it, a tempting treat no matter what state it was in; once he had it locked in his sights there was no backing away. He was feral for it, starved for it, and with his hand on your thighs he held them apart in a firm grip as he moved in without hesitation. Simon was used to wearing things to cover his face and though there were certain things that he enjoyed more than others, wearing you would always be his favorite.
Once Simon got nestled against you, there wasn’t a goddamn thing that could pry him away. Hot, muggy moisture coated his face from between your thighs as he lapped and lapped at the silky inner walls of your pussy with a weighty tongue, starting with the tip and then using the pad to press firmly up against your clit so you’d buck over his face. With his hand, he pushed down on your pubic bone as he worked until he had you mewling like a kitten. 
“Mmm,” he pleasantly hummed against you, that circling tongue being coated in the sharp tang of your juices as it took its sweet time to draw you closer and closer to the edge like a man obsessed. When it came to making your squeal, there was nothing else on his mind except whatever he could do to make you come harder. 
Shifting below you, he knew what needed to be done about that. Your legs were on the move then as Simon situated his shoulders under your knees, staying locked to you as he sat up taller now that you were completely strapped to him to tilt your pelvis up. In this position, as his tongue focused solely on romancing your clit, his fingers could enter you and stroke that bundle of nerves inside as well. 
Fuck he wasn’t playing around with you this time. If a complete mess was what he wanted to make of you then this was the way to do it, overstimulating you to the point of insanity. Minutes passed without a single sign of him losing stamina or wanting to surface, so lost in the ecstasy of being encapsulated by your thighs pressing around his ears as you squirmed and jerked each time a new point of pleasure was plucked. There was no one here that knew your body better than him and each second that ticked away that warmth in your abdomen gathered.
Sticky and wet, breathless and vibrating with the euphoria of being overwhelmed with that hulking man, it wasn’t long after that you had finally made it to the ledge. Simon could feel it around his fingers, the walls of your cunt becoming engorged and contracting the longer he continued to stroke them deep inside you as your legs began to shake and hit his ears- exactly what he was looking for. It wouldn’t be long now and his face would be dripping with your cum. Steady was the name of his game from this point, making sure not to make a move out of place or rush to reach the finish line. Your body knew the way and with each flick of his tongue and stroke of his fingers it brought you to the precipice just as designed. 
And then you fell silent and he knew it was there. The warmth in your abdomen exploded and shot towards the top of your head as you fell back flush against the table with eyes shut tight and you cried out as your body wriggled and writhed over Simon’s face. Slipping his fingers out of you he gripped hard into your hips to hold you to his face as he sucked on your clit until you rode out the pleasure to its end.
Only then did he let you go.
Standing back up Simon wiped away the moist sign of your orgasm from around his mouth with the back of his hand, a proud gleam in his brown eyes. Screw anyone who said that man couldn’t eat; he could devour you for hours and never have enough. That would be revisited later when time was more available and he could have you relaxed in his bed to make you come multiple times without coming up fully for air. Now he desperately needed to be inside of you.
“Ya ready for me sweetheart?” he said as the sound of his belt buckle jingling hit your ears and you picked your head back up to look at him. 
“I need it Simon, please,” you pleaded through shaky breaths.
You watched with a hungry gaze as he pulled his pants down enough to hang loosely around his hips so that it would release that beast of a cock. A bit of precum sparkled from the tip and he used it to coat himself with a few strokes of his hand; too much and he might lose it. Then he pounced, moving back in between your legs and taking one to place on his shoulder as he aligned the head with your entrance. 
It poked near the sensitive hole as he slowly began to insert it. The tip slipped in with a groan from both of you; fucking hell he had missed how you were so tight. Even just that tiny bit pushed harshly at the walls of your core as it stretched you out to accommodate him. You’d missed how big he was and how full he’d make you soon enough. 
He took a breath to calm himself, too much sensation too quick. “Goddamn baby, forgot how fuckin’ amazin’ ya feel,” he sighed. “It’s been a minute, ya think ya can still take it all?” 
You nodded your head as you swallowed hard to prepare yourself to take him.
“Good girl, just breathe for me,” he grunted as he pulled your body down onto his cock all the way to the base. “That’s it, breathe. T-that’s… fuckin’ hell.” 
Your fingertips dug into the muscles along his back as you were filled to the brim, your walls struggling to accommodate such an impressive object after this extensive break. The sudden, overwhelming pressure even caused Simon to stagger where he stood.
“Goddammit, sweetheart, I fuckin’ missed this,” he groaned, head falling back a moment. “Why can’t I ever get enough of ya? Ya got me under your spell baby. Christ, I gotta to fuck ya raw.” 
Taking it easy and slow was not something Simon had in him anymore, not now that he had gotten that first feel of your cunt in all its warm, wet glory. He was consumed and wasted no time in beginning to thrust recklessly in and out, feverish and rough, and all you could do was hold onto his shoulders for support as you both devolved into dirty, stinking creatures seeking for that ultimate high. 
Goddamn the snap of his hips shoved that fat fucking cock so far into you that he bottomed out at the back of your cervix, making you whine pathetically the harder he pounded until you gagged with each rough thrust. You were so fucking full of him there was no way you weren’t going to feel those bruises tomorrow. Tears stung the rims of your eyes as they rolled back into your head, the discomfort slowly giving way to overwhelming euphoria. 
“Fuck, ya take me so well,” he praised.
Your tits bounced up and down with the force of his thrusts, the table beneath you squeaking as it shook in time with the rhythm and threatening to break the harder he pushed. Christ he had missed this: the fucking ecstasy of your tight cunt gripping onto his cock for dear life as he pounded hard and desperate into it, the way all thoughts outside of the pleasure of your body seemed to vanish into thin air, the build of that release he knew would satisfy him completely… Well, for the moment anyway.
It was heaven in a sinful package.
The longer he went the more his sanity waned until there was not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he came. You could see the change wash over his face and through his eyes, making you grip onto him tighter; you’d never get tired of making him lose himself like that. 
You were completely at his mercy, his hulking size overwhelming so that he could do with you as he pleased and he used that to his advantage. Fingers reached between your bodies to again stroke at your clit; he was getting close and he needed to get you there just as fast. Those digits hit the spot just right and through the pounding of his cock that warmth again found itself growing in your stomach. 
“Right there, right there,” you repeated as your hips joined in on the movement, rolling with his strokes and thrusts to enhance the stimulation as you panted open mouthed into his face. 
His grip on your leg tightened harder as his release drew even closer, his swollen balls ready to spill his seed with just a bit more friction. God, he could feel it, that tingling pressure jolting from zero to one hundred as the muscles in his stomach contracted; his legs were shaking just trying to keep it together until he could have you finish.
“Fuck,” you winced as your breath hitched in your chest. Just a little more…  
He pumped with everything in him and that was it; with a shudder your orgasm rocketed through you fiery hot, making your body writhe in his grasp as you fell back against the table. God, it wouldn’t stop, second after second it just kept coming with relentless intensity. Simon did not let up either and soon you were crying from the over-stimulation.
Successfully reaching his goal, it was now his turn to let go and get his; nothing would ever be easier. In and out, in and out, he thrust and thrust until finally he could feel that ledge creep up and with a deep breath in he released control. That was it.
At the last possible second he ripped his cock out of you and nestled it between your clenched thighs as he milked out all that warm cum along your stomach, coating you with all that pent up tension he had been holding on to the entire time you were away. His abdominal muscle contracted hard, heart pounding out of his chest, body writhing as a shiver ran up the length of his spin while he squirted out every last drop that he could give. 
The room reeked of sex and sweat and cum but fuck did neither of you care. You lay there on your back with his warm, pungent semen coating your stomach and dripping into your belly button, panting to catch your breath as he stood hunched over top of you, lightheaded. All he could do was breathe until feeling returned to his limbs and he could talk again.
“Christ you do look good like this luv,” he said with a smirk on his lips as his panting slowed. “Now that we’re back, ya better get used to bein’ on ya back covered in my cum cause I’ve only just started makin’ up for lost time.”
“Lucky for you that’s my favorite place to be,” you chuckled as he went off to find something to clean you up with.
Coming back holding a random piece of cloth, he wiped away his mess and you sat up to give him a thankful kiss. As he handed you back the pieces of your clothing so you could redress, you finally checked your watch and realized that you were in fact late for debrief… for the third time. “Think they’ll buy that we got held up just talking again?” you questioned as you slipped everything back on as best could.
“With how flushed your cheeks are luv, ya better fuckin’ take a minute to collect yourself,” he picked. 
You rolled your eyes. “And who was the one to put me in such a state?” you returned. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Very,” he whispered as he stole one last kiss from you while pulling his pants back up and redoing them. As his lips parted he stayed in close a moment. 
“Though I wouldn’t worry too much about how ya look cause if someone gets a little too close they’re gonna fuckin’ smell me all over ya,” he whispered as he slipped the mask back over his face and you both made your way stealthily back outside. 
Well, guess nothing to fret over now.
1K notes · View notes
teliphone · 8 months ago
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Blackmail
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Summary: You have been receiving text messages from an unknown caller. They know secrets that you didn't know yet. They use that as an advantage to string you closer to them. You need someone to treat you right.
Warning(s): Smut, Obsessive Behavior, Blackmail, Threats, Manipulations, Cheating, Praise Kink
Word Count: 6.2k
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A buzz from your phone vibrates the table, cutting you off mid-sentence. Your eyes stare at your phone which is facing down towards the cafeteria table. It vibrates several more times, suggesting you received more than just one text. You decide to ignore it because you had a feeling it may be from the unknown caller. The sender has been messaging you since last week. At first, the texts were weird but easier to handle. You believed it was a prank, but soon the texts started sounding more personal. Filled with uncomfortable threats and blackmail. As if the person knows you or about you. Someone in this school. 
You uncomfortable shift your weight to the opposite side, away from the phone. Noticing you have been staring at your phone for too long, you look back up at your best friend, Amber. You give her a sweet fake smile. She follows your eyes and nibbles the bottom of her lips. 
“Aren’t you going to check?” She questions. She leans forward to grab your phone. 
It’s normal for her to check considering you two have been best friends since middle school. She’d sometimes toss her phone aside and scroll through yours instead. Which is acceptable to you because you had nothing to hide from her. Especially since you believe she’s just scrolling through your media apps. She claims that your feed is far more entertaining than hers. You trust her with almost everything. On the other hand, she trusts you with everything she has. You weren’t the type to snoop much but with Amber's absolute trust in you… you could look through every single app on her phone. It was a joke at first when she gave you permission. To tease her and make her panic. There’s no way she’s that nonchalant. You’d bite your lips and narrow your eyes at her, finger lingering over the search history or deleted photo albums like a trigger. She gives no response. Just a shrug and a classic Amber response of:
“I have nothing to hide from you.” 
You roll your eyes and a groan escaped your lips. Letting the mobile device slip off your fingers and onto her bed.  
“No fun,” You sigh. 
This time you do have a secret to hide. Those texts were something you did not want Amber to read or see. They consist of things even Amber does not know. The last thing you want is for her to be worried for you. As she reaches for your phone, you quickly snatch it away. Shoving it into your pockets. Her face is in shock. You have never been so defensive towards her. 
“It’s nothing really. It’s just Ethan,” You lie. You couldn’t look at her expression and focus on the forgotten meal in front of you. She returns her hands back to her side slowly. Her eyes never leave yours. She decides to not interrogate you in front of all the other classmates. She’s going to find out sooner or later. 
“Oh okay... What does he want?” She asks with a hint of annoyance. She hates your so-called “boyfriend”. She does not believe you two are meant to be together. 
“He wanted to hang out tonight. His parents are gone on a trip,” You half lie. 
“You didn’t read the text,” She informs, narrowing her eyes at you. You shoot her a look of annoyance. What is this all of a sudden? An investigation?
“He’s been asking me since this morning okay?” You protest, “I know it’s him because he’s been desperate and a bit horny…. I-“ You pause. Secretly glancing around you in case someone hears. Every other student seems to be invested in their own conversations to pay attention to yours. Amber leans forward because she’s intrigued.
“I haven’t been doing it with him,” You breathe out. At least this time you weren’t lying to Amber. She groans in response. Pushing her food away from herself as an expression she lost her appetite. 
“I’m going to start heading to class. Have fun with him tonight,” She cringes. She stands up and walks to your side. She leans down to give you a kiss on the head before walking away. Once she was out of sight, you pull out your phone.
Your boyfriend is cheating on you. 
You’re just a sweet slut for him to use. 
I see how you look at her.
He doesn’t love you. 
Break up with him. You don’t deserve him anyway. 
You feel a heaviness in your heart. There’s no way he’s cheating on you… right? You brush your head in frustration. You shouldn’t trust a random text message. You are not going to let this ruin your life. 
-
“I guess I’m not hanging out with him tonight,” You inform Amber as you place your phone down on your bed. She rolls herself over til she is laying on her stomach on the left side of the bed. She’s still wearing her clothes from earlier at school. You sit on the right side wearing a graphic t-shirt and sleeping shorts. Her face lightens up and smiles. 
“What happened?” Her question is a little too exciting. You bring your thighs up to your chest and rest your chin on top of your knee. 
“He suddenly-“
“You know what? I don’t care,” She quickly cuts you off. You give her a soft smile. 
“You don’t even love him. It’s a waste of time,” She bickers, shuffling around uncomfortably. Her shoulders bumped against your feet a couple of times.  
“I don’t love him… yet,” You correct her. She stops moving and you watch her chest move up and down fast. She quickly sits up which makes you widen your eyes. She scoots closer and places her hands on your knees. You lean back till your head hits the board of the bed.
“Do you like having sex with him?” She challenges. Her eyes glisten from the lamp beside the bed. The only light source in the room. Your eyes glance down to her plump lips and flicker shut. Turning your head to the side.
“Sometimes,” You admit, staring at the wall. You suddenly feel the heat rise to your cheeks. Amber tilts her head as she slowly analyzes the side of your features. 
“That’s not enough,” She breathes, staring at your lips. Her short fingernails graze against the skin of your knees. You shallow the knot in your throat. You look back up to meet her dilated dark eyes. She looks a little insane. She smiles, tilting her head slightly. Your heart quickens embarrassingly. Your legs drop from your chin into a cross position in an attempt to cool off. She bites her lips playfully. 
“What do you like?”
“What do you mean?” You whisper. 
“During bed,” She deadpan. You furrow your eyebrows and brush her fingers off your knees. The small circles she had been drawing were driving you crazy. 
“Why would I tell you?” You giggle. She leans forward and rests her head on your shoulders. You swear she could hear your heart hammering against your chest. 
“Come on. We’re best friends. We share everything,” Her breath fans against your neck. She snuggles closer and you squeeze your eyes shut. Her scent clouds your thoughts and it took every muscle in your body to gently push her away.
“Amber stop,” You hesitate. In another second you would fall into temptation. She groans in defeat and falls back onto your bed. Her hair spread across your pillow. She’s visibly upset, but you didn’t really understand why. You had a boyfriend and you hate cheating. She should know that. But you also didn’t blame her for feeling frustrated. You can’t hide your attraction toward her. It’s so obvious. It’s like a game between you two. Truthfully, it’s toxic… and you hate that you enjoy it. A game where you will end up breaking your morals and submitting to your thoughts. She lets out a loud sigh and pushes herself off the bed.
“Where are you going?” You puzzle. You want her to stay next to you. She fluffs her hair and adjusts her clothes.
“I have to go home. My parents told me to be back for a dinner party with some neighbors,” She explains.
“I see,” You try to not sound disappointed. Usually, she would stay til late. To the point where you will have to beg her to leave so that her parents wouldn’t get angry at her. She hides her smile and walks towards the bedroom door. Stopping at the door frame she turns around. 
“Don't miss me too much. I’ll come to pick you up for school tomorrow,” She promises before leaving you alone in your room. You pout and fall onto your bed, inhaling the lingering scent of Ambers perfume. You close your eyes and feel your body start to relax.
Buzz. Your phone vibrates and you ignore it. 
Buzz. 
Buzz. You shuffle.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 
You groan in frustration. With eyes still closed you brush your hands around the bedsheets to locate the phone. You bring the phone to your face and start reading the text. 
Y/n I have news for you.
Do you really think Ethan is studying for his econ exam right now? 
Are you that naive?
He’s too easy to please. 
Btw you look good today baby. 
Especially now in those shorts. 
You feel panic zap throughout your body. The room suddenly feels cold and too dark. You run to your windows and shut the curtains as fast as you can. Clutching the phone close to your chest. You take a seat back on the bed. With shaky hands, you text back. 
Who are you?
A second later you get a reply. 
Yay I finally got your attention! 
Do you want a surprise? 
How do you know what I’m wearing?
You’re asking so many questions. I can tell you’re nervous lol.
Answer me. Two minutes pass.
Not yet, baby. The nickname makes you sick in the stomach. 
I’m sorry I made you feel anxious. I don’t mean to. Here’s the surprise as an apology. 
File attached 
You nervously hover over the link. Clicking it causes a photo to appear on the screen. At first, you couldn’t figure out what it was showing. You narrow your eyes and look closer. The photo is blurry and a bit dark. The only light source coming in is from the gaps between wherever the photo is taken. You zoom in on the bright area. A portion of Ethan’s body is evident. He’s in the motion of putting on a shirt. Your eyes widen in realization. The unknown caller is hidden in your boyfriend's closet. You jump out of bed and open your phone to call the cops. A text notification appears above the phone dial before you could finish pressing the last number. 
Don’t call the cops or I’ll kill him. 
You gasp and drop your phone. 
“Oh my god!” You cry out. You rush to your closet and pull down your shorts to put on jeans. Fumbling and breathing heavily. You feel yourself sweating from anxiety and fear. You have to get to his house and save him. 
-
You knock vigorously against his front door. The thick wood is starting to hurt your hand from how hard you’re pounding on the door. 
“Ethan! Ethan, are you okay?! Open the door!” You pant. You continue knocking for who knows how long. A dark figure appears behind the blurry glass and you’re breathing hicks. The door opens revealing Ethan wearing his boxers and a blue t-shirt. His hair is disheveled as if he had just woken up from a nap. You stare at him in shock and confusion. You start touching him to check for any bruises or cuts. Turning him around and checking up and down his body. 
“Woah babe! What’s wrong?” He gasps at your action. 
“Is there anyone in your room?” You worry. He widens his eyes slightly for a split second before averting his gaze to the left of you and back. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. 
“What? Why would I? I have no one over,” He answers. His answer didn’t satisfy you. 
“Let me check your room,” You demand. You try to walk past him, but he holds you back. You look up and let out a frustrated sigh. He is desperately trying to reach the same level of concern as you, but he didn’t understand a single thing happening. 
“Is something wrong? Are you okay?” He inquires. You attempt to push his hand away, but his grip is firm. Your eyes start to water from intense anxiety. His hold softens and he reaches up to hold your face. 
“I- I received a picture of you. Someone is hidden in your room. I was so worried I came here as fast as possible. I was afraid someone was going to hurt you,” You fret. He finally understands your actions. 
“Hey, I am okay. I’m here with you right now. It’s alright,” He comforts. You sniff and reach up to hold his triceps. He pulls you into a deep hug. You stay in that position until your breathing starts to calm down. His warmth comforts you. His fingers tip gently grazing on top of your scalp. 
He never let you check his room that night. But that was okay because you trust him. As long as he is okay like he claimed to be, there shouldn’t be any need for you to check. 
-
The next morning you sat extremely quiet in Amber’s car which is now parked in front of school. Who is the person texting you? Will they actually harm the people you love? How did they get a picture of Ethan? Did they set up a camera? Is there a camera hidden in your room? So many thoughts flood your mind that you didn’t realize Amber was talking to you. She waves a hand in front of your face. You blink and look up at her. Her eyebrows furrow with a concerned look. She places her hand on your cheek.
“There you are. Did something happen last night?” She worries. You tilt your head away from her palm and look down. Her eyes flash with hurt as she returns her hand back to her side. You don’t know if you should tell her about the text messages you have been receiving. You didn’t want her to worry. You also didn’t want the unknown messenger to start threatening Amber if she were to find out. On the other hand, you knew you needed someone to be there with you. You can’t handle this alone. The only person who you fully love and trust is her. Amber. 
“Amber,” You finally whimper. A tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her. Waves of emotion come crashing down. All you need is for her to…to… no. All you need is her. Everything about her will help. She quickly engulfs you in a hug. She doesn’t ask you any questions but waits til you start to catch your breath. You slowly pull away from the hug first. She waits patiently. You lick your lips and pull out your phone. Quietly pressing onto the unknown contact to reveal the messages that have been haunting you. You hand it over to her. You watch as she scrolls and reads the texts. Her face starts to turn into pure anger. She grips your phone. Her eyes enlarge and glisten. 
“How long has this person been texting you,” She demands.
“Almost two weeks,” You confess. She angrily rubs her hair away from her face. 
“Why haven’t you called the cops?!” 
“B-because I am scared! They threatened me! If I called the cops, what would they do to Ethan?! What would they do to you?! I cannot let anything happen to you two, especially you!” You explode. Thinking about any harm being inflicted on her makes your blood boil. Your hands start to shake without noticing. She looks down at your shaking body and pauses. 
“Do.. do you think this person is trying to help you?” She wonders out loud. 
“What?” You look at her in disbelief. 
“Think about it. This person has been warning you about Ethan. How you shouldn’t trust him. Maybe he’s been lying to you and-” She rambles. 
“Are you serious right now?” You glare. She quickly shuts her mouth. She knew she messed up. You are starting to feel like you regret telling her. You unlock the passenger door and walk out. Slamming the car door behind you. 
“Y/n!” Amber cries out. You ignore her and continue walking at a fast pace. A few students hanging out at the front glance at you two. She stumbles over her own footsteps to catch up to you. 
“Baby I am sorry! Y/n, please! I am just trying to make sense of this situation!” She calls out again. You stop walking and took a deep breath in. She finally catches up, leaning over to collect herself. You swallow your pride. 
“I am sorry too. I didn’t mean to get mad… it’s just. I just wish you are wrong. I couldn’t imagine if you were right. I trust him. You of all people should know that,” You admit. Before she could reply, the school bell rings. Signaling that it is time for all students to get to class. You two glance at each other and quietly walk to class. 
-
Two classes have already passed and you are currently sitting at your third. A few students whisper among each other talking about whatever topic is floating around. You drum your fingertips against the wood of your desk. Your eyes stare around at your classmates. Could one of them be the unknown caller? Tara sits next to you on the right. She is currently wearing a blue sweater. Her hair was slightly curled and a few front strands tied to the back. She is bored as she scrolls on her phone, waiting for class to start. She stops scrolling and side-eyes you. She catches you staring at her. 
“What?” She asks. 
“Nothing,” You answer. She returns her attention back to her phone. It can’t be her. Amber and she are closer than you are with Tara. There’s no reason for her to distress her friends’ best friend.  You look ahead and see Wes. He is wearing a gray t-shirt. He is currently organizing his desk. A perfectly sharp pencil to the left of him and a clean page in the front. You’ve talked to him a few times. He’s an absolute sweetheart, yet Amber always liked to pick on him. You couldn’t tell if she was just joking or if she actually hated him. 
Buzz. Your heart quickens again. You pull out the phone from your pocket. 
Hi baby!
What do you want?
Wow, what a fast response! I am starting to feel like we are becoming good friends! 
Stop texting me. Please.
Awh you’re begging. Sorry I can’t, but no worries. I have another surprise! 
Break up with Ethan today during lunch hours. You blink. 
Publicly announce it. If you don’t before lunch ends… I’ll give everyone a taste of what your boyfriends’ been up to. Don’t test me, baby. 
Your ears muffle the surrounding noises. What just happened? What did they mean by “a taste of what your boyfriends been up to”? There’s no way they would-
“Y/n,” Tara’s voice brings you back to life. 
“W-what?” You stutter. She points to the front of the room and your eyes follow her direction. The teacher stood with her arms crossed as she stares. 
“Put away the phone. Class started,” She barks. 
The teacher goes on and on with her lesson, but of course, you did not listen to a single full sentence. You mostly stared at your desk in deep thought. Afraid of what is going to happen. Class ended rather fast… or slowly. You couldn’t tell anymore. You rush out down the halls and see a familiar figure. It's Amber. She is currently talking to a few classmates. One hand holding a textbook while the other she uses to brush her hair. A classmate giggles and playfully slaps Amber's shoulder. You roll your eyes and walk up beside Amber. Her full attention immediately falls on you and you smile. She waves her hands as a signal for the nameless classmates to walk away. They glare at you as they walk by. Funny how fast their face changes once she’s not looking. 
“They hate me,” You mumble, leaning against Amber's locker. She giggles and touches her heart chain necklace. You watch as she rubs against the heart. 
“No one could hate you. You’re perfect,” She corrects as she softly pushes you off her locker. You obey and rest on the locker next to hers. She opens it and places her textbook inside. You watch her closely, tilting your head against the metal doors. Looking at her calms you. She catches you staring and smiles, tilting her head to match yours. You two stare at each other until a name calls for you. Amber rolls her eyes and slams her locker shut. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. 
“Hey there babe,” Ethan greets. He grabs your waist and pulls you close to his. Peppering kisses around your face. You giggle awkwardly before pushing him off. Amber's face remains expressionless. 
“Ready for lunch? There’s no econ group project to work on today, so what better use of time than to eat with my girl,” He beams. Amber makes a gagging sound. You pinch her arm. Ethan looks at Amber and awkwardly rubs his neck. 
“Y-you can join us too, you know,” He offers. Amber gives him a knowing look. Something you didn’t understand, but he did. When did he talk to her enough to understand this? From what you remember: Amber hates him and Ethan is scared of Amber. What are you missing? There’s an awkward pause in the air. As if the two of them were speaking through their eyes. You furrow your eyebrows.
“Sure,” Amber finally speaks up. Ethan smiles and nods his head in satisfaction. As if he wanted you to congratulate him for his effort in trying to get closer to your best friend. You take a step forward towards the cafeteria. He reaches his arm over your shoulders while Amber links her arm around yours. You stop in shock as the two stare at each other. Amber is the one that removes her arm from you. She swears under her breath. The three of you reach a table. Ethan goes off to grab some food while Amber sits in front of you, snacking on some chips. She is disinterested in the chips. Her attention is more on you and… Ethan? She has not spoken a word. Your leg bops up and down in nervousness. You think back to the texts. You have to break up with Ethan soon or… You look up at Amber. Her eyes dilate and glisen. She tilts her head to the side and smiles widely. Plopping a chip in her mouth. You shift uncomfortably against her gaze. Ethan returns with two trays.
“Here babe. I got your favorite,” He chirps. You feel sick in the stomach from the anxiety. Food never looked so unappetizing til now. He starts chewing on his food and secretly glances up at Amber. She could not care less about him right now. She continues looking at you. As if she’s waiting for you to do something… say something…? 
Time ticks by. How long has it been? How long have you been pondering and begging for time to stop? Your heart pounds harder. Sweat starts to appear slightly on top of your forehead. Ethan seems awkward in the silence, not knowing what to do or say. Amber starts to look bored. 
“Ethan…” You hesitate. This gets both of their attention. 
“I- I have something to say” 
Ding Ding Ding. 
“Shit,” You cuss.
It’s the sound of the school bell.
Lunch is over.
The students start getting up from their seats and cleaning their area. Amber crumbles her bag of chips and tosses it on Ethan's tray. You want the earth to swallow you so you could disappear. 
Suddenly many buzzes start echoing throughout the cafeteria. The students halt their movement to retrieve their phones. Gasps can be heard from all around you. You look around and everyone is staring at you. Some looked disgusted, some in shock, some cheering and some were whistling at you. It is such a mixed reaction, you didn’t understand. Ethan opens his phone and freezes. His face immediately turns red with fear and shame. Amber opens her phone as well and widens her eyes. She hands her phone screen to you. 
“Oh my goodness… Y/n… You have to look-”
“No! Don’t look!” Ethan begs. He grips her wrist with a frantic look. He’s begging her to stop. She glares at him and tries to jerk her hand away. You decide to listen to her and grab the phone. The picture on the screen was Ethan. Nude. Doggy styling some girl, but the girl was cropped. Unidentified. But you could not care less who the girl was. It wasn’t you. 
“You’ve been cheating on me?!” You scream. The whole cafeteria quiets down. Ethan licks his dry lips and brings his hands up in an attempt to hold you. You take a step back away from him. He disgusts you now. Tears start to build up and fall over your cheeks. You bring the back of your hand to wipe the tears. You can’t let him or any of these students see you cry, 
“I- I-”
“How fucken dare you!” You cut him off, “ I trusted you! All you do in return is sleep with some bitch?! You’re fucken pathetic,” 
“Y/n… That girl… She’s-”
“Shut up!” Amber orders, “You’ve messed up enough. Don’t talk to Y/n again. She hates you.”  She gets up from her seat and walks towards you. She wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you away from the crowd. Away from all this betrayal and embarrassment. Ethan pushes against the crowd. 
“Let me explain!” He begs. You quickly turn around and shoot him the deadliest glare. 
“We are over,” You swore. His shoulders drop in defeat. The crowd shallows him with many comments and questions:
“Bro what the fuck man. Why would you do that to her?”
“I didn’t think you’d be that bad.”
“Of course. I knew he was too good to actually be good.”
“I feel so bad for Y/n.”
“Yo, that was insane!”
Amber successfully dragged you to the front of the school. A place where there are no students currently. You sob uncontrollably. You feel so frustrated, betrayed, and embarrassed. You attempt to push away from Amber. To hide your face and run away from everyone. 
“Hey, hey stop it,” Amber begins. She holds you to catch a glimpse of your face. You fight against her. Nearly knocking her over.
“Y/n,” She begs. You surrender and let her do whatever she wants. You are too emotionally unstable to do anything. She brushes her thumb across your cheek. You whimper in an attempt to stop crying. Your lips quiver and her eyes soften. You sniff as tears continue to roll down. 
“I am so sorry this happened to you,” All you could do is nod. 
“Take me home,” Your voice coarse. 
The whole car ride was quiet. Amber would glance over worriedly once in a while. You stare out the window. She nibbles the bottom of her lip. Her grip on the steering wheel was hard. After a while, she finally makes a turn into your house. You sit in silence in her car. She shifts in her seat to face you. You can hear her breathing.
“D-do you want me to stay with you tonight? You can come over to mine tonight if you want. My parents went on a business trip,” She whispers. 
“No. Thank you, Amber. I will see you tomorrow,” You answer, unbuckling your seatbelt. As you reach for the door, she holds your arm. 
“Text me tonight okay?” She requests. You didn’t answer, but she knew you would do it. 
-
You walk into your room and collapse onto your bed. You could no longer cry. You were so tired you had to close your eyes and sleep. About a few hours later you hear many knocks on your door. You stir awake feeling sick and uncomfortable. The pounding continues, forcing yourself to get up and towards the door. You open the door and see Ethan. His hair is messy and he sweats through his shirt. Seems like he has been running. You swing to slam the door shut, but he blocks it.
“Please let me explain,” He begs. You’re so sick and tired of hearing him. Sick of hearing his voice. You release your grip on the door. He walks into the room and takes a deep breath. He wastes no time seeing that this is the only chance you would let him speak.
“It’s Amber,” He confesses. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
“W-what?” You breathe. 
“The girl in the picture. It’s Amber,” He could no longer look you in the eye. Your eyes begin to water again. A painful ache rises in your heart.
“Why? Why would she-”
“I don’t know. She wanted to have sex all of a sudden. We did it once. I swear,” 
“She wouldn’t do that to me,” You deny. He ruffles his hair and shakes his head. 
“She did. But she… This is so fucked… She kept moaning your name,” He rasps. His cheeks turn red. 
“What the fuck are you saying?” You cuss. This makes no sense to you. In fact, it is starting to creep you out. How many secrets did your close friends keep? How many more lies are there to break your heart? 
“Talk to Amber. She’s insane in the head. She’s obsessed with you, Y/n!” 
“Get out,”
“I will. I am so sorry for everything. Part of it is my fault. I am weak and I fell for her seduction. Please confront Amber. She has to tell you the whole truth,” He emphasizes. He leaves the room in a hurry, leaving you in disbelief. You collect your thoughts and take deep breaths. You are no longer sad. You are furious. Your body shakes in anger. 
-
You pound against her front door. Not caring how much it hurts your fist. The door swings open revealing a smiling Amber. God, you are so angry. 
“Jeez Y/n, you’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood! I said text me, not show up in front of my house like this. Not that I am complaining,” She jokes. You push her into the house, slamming the door behind you. She widens her eyes and furrows her eyebrows. 
“Tell me the truth,” You demand. She crosses her arms and shakes her head. She smiles revealing her teeth. 
“What truth?” 
“I am so sick of the lies. Ethan told me,” You fum. Her smile drops and she looks emotionless. She swallows a lump in her throat. 
“It was you, wasn’t it? The unknown caller. It has always been you,” You accuse. She blinks her eyes which threaten to glisten. Her lack of answers speaks volumes. 
“Do you hate me that much?” You whimper. Her facade breaks and she looks absolutely hurt. 
“Hate you? I love you!” She cries out. She paces back in forth in front of you, clenching her fist. You stare at her in shock.
“No, no this was not supposed to happen! Did it seem that way to you?! That I hate you? I tried so hard to reveal how much I care and love you,”
“You fucked my boyfriend-”
“Do you know why?” She giggles, getting close to your face. Her pupils were blown wide and dark. You stumble backward, but she continues to follow until you hit your back against the door. 
“I wanted to feel you. That lip of his has kissed you all over. He told me how you like to get kissed on the neck and down to your collar. That hand of his would grip your hips and pull you close to his body. His bulge would stick uncomfortably in his jeans. Your hands would unzip his pants and play with his staff. His dick burying deep inside you,” She lets out a soft moan. You clench your teeth. 
“Feeling your wet cunt rub against his dick… I can’t help but crave it. I don’t care about Ethan. Never. I cared about how I got to feel what's been in you. It turns me on so much. If I could not have you, I will take the nearest thing that got the privilege to touch you. You drive me insane. I want you,”
Her head dips towards your neck and she licks a long line up your throat. You grunt, squeezing your legs together. She leans back and hovers her lips over yours. There is no longer any personal space. Her body presses against yours. 
“The only way I can get rid of him is to expose his lack of self-control to you. I didn’t do anything wrong. He failed to deny me. I knew he was not perfect for you. I am. I was the only person you trust to read the ‘unknown’ caller texts. I was the only person you ran to for help and comfort. You picked me, Y/n. I did this for you. For us,” She purrs. She lingers a little longer over your lips before leaning to your ear. 
“Kiss me please,” She blushes, “Please Y/n. Kiss me and I will do anything for you.” You tilt your head up to clear your head from her scent. She’s drowning your sense of morality. She took that opportunity to kiss your neck. You moan. You can feel your walls starting to break down. 
“That’s it, baby. Kiss me back,” She moans. Her mouth leaves your neck and returns back to hovering over your lips. She smiles brightly after making eye contact with you. Your eyes look just like hers. Dilated and glistening. You’re turned on and she knows it. Your heart hammers against your rib cage. You push yourself off the door and crash your lips against hers. She chuckles in bliss and grinds your body on top of hers. Her hands glide up the back of you, making you arch into her. 
“Fuck Amber,” You gasp. She pulls away from your swollen lips. 
“Keep saying my name. I want to be the only name you moan from now on. Stay with me and I will make you the most loved person on earth,” She promises. You nod your head rapidly. Lust clouding your mind. 
“Yes,” You blush. 
She pulls you by the hand towards the stairs and up to her room. She locks the door as you glance around her room. You’ve been here many times. The picture frame of you and her smiling sits on her desk. You hide your smile behind your hair. You suddenly feel her arms snake around your waist. She nuzzles her nose into your neck. She inhales your scent and sighs.
“Are you ready?” She whispers. You turn around and wrap your arms around her neck. You refuse to admit that her stalking and obsessive behavior are attractive out loud. It will be the new secret you will keep inside. 
“Amber… I want you to show me how much you wanted me,” You express. 
“I will,” She smiles. She plays with the rim of your shirt. You eye her lovingly, waiting for her. She pulls up your shirt, leaving you in just a bra. The coldness of her room makes you shiver. Your skin raises goosebumps. She analyzes your body down from the waist and up.
“You’re so beautiful,” She confesses. You reach under to pull her shirt off. The chain heart necklace hits her collarbone. She quickly unclasps your bra and your nipple hardens. She brings her hands to cup your chest. She giggles in excitement. You walk backward til your heel hits the bed frame. You flick your fingers for her to follow. She comes close and kisses your collarbone as you start to lie on her bed. She kisses down from your collarbone to your chest. She sticks out her tongue and draws light circles around your right nipple. You suck in a sharp breath. She continues kissing down to your hip. Her fingers hook around your pants to pull them down. You help her by lifting your ass up. 
“I’ve been dreaming about this,” She breathes. She slightly nips the skin on the inner of your thighs. Leaving her mark. Her nose brushes against the material of your underwear. 
“Fuck me, Amber,” You gasp. She pushes the material to reveal your lovely folds. She slightly slides her fingers along them. A silky clear substance coats her middle finger. The scent of your arousal makes her drunk. 
“You’re already so wet,” She giggles. 
“So embarrassing,” You spill, covering your face with the back of your hand. She reaches up with her other hand and grabs the hand covering your face. Your fingers interlock.
“Don’t hide your face baby. I want to see you,” She smiles.
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screaminglygay · 8 months ago
Note
hey! can we pretty pls have a pt2 to the stalker!amber?
Amber Freeman headcanons
warnings: dark!amber, swearing, toxic situationship, possibly bad grammar, stalking, obsessive behavior
word count: 1.7k
an: thank you for your patience! i still have some sort of writing block, so this is just something little, but I want to write a full fic on amber, so stay tuned! hehe
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Amber and you have many study sessions, she wants you to pass all the exams, it is not her fault that it always leads her to take you in any way she wants
"Amber, we talked about this..." you sigh as you look at the book infront of you, while Amber´s hands were wandering on your body.
"I'm just helping. If you can solve this under a distraction, can you imagine how good you'll be during the exam?" She looks at you, admiring you as she always does.
"So when someone would touch me during the exam I´m gonna be prepared?" You finally look at her, making a joke.
Her whole body shifts, she´s being slightly frustrated about you being such a brat. "Fine, let´s go back to stuying."
"What? I´m just playing your game, Ambs," you smile softly at her.
"No, you´re just being a fucking brat." And now, she´s mad mad.
You scan her face for a little bit, "oh come on, I was just joking," you poke her face slightly.
And there goes her tiny manipulation tactic, that you always fall hard for.
"I feel like you could do something little for me, since I´m spending so much time with you, making sure you pass..." Amber sits up.
You immedietly sit up too, "I- sorry, you are right," you take her hand in yours.
"Lay down, pretty girl..." she leans over you and you lay on your back, here it goes again.
No matter what subject, day in a week or time... Amber always knows how to make you do whatever she wants. And every single time and you... you obey.
Amber always knowing where you are, when the two of you are not together. She put few of a dog trackers in your wallet, some clothes, backpack, even into Chad´s car, just to be sure you´re always okay.
After a long weekend of not seeing eachother, Amber stops by your locker in the morning and waits for you. You immedietly smile, when you see her. It was a long time with your family on some stupid gathering outside the city, your cousin had birthday party - the most disgusting, pervy, rasist idiot. You´re very happy that you are back in school... it is kinda the same hell hole, but at least you still have your friends and Amber here.
"Hi," you say softly as you open your locker, taking out some books.
"Hi," she watches you, "how did you enjoy the family gathering?"
"It was hell-" you respond, but then you look at her with raise eyebrow, "wait, how do you know about the gathering?"
Amber without missing a beat asnwers with a smile, "Chad mentioned."
You nod, "oh, he can´t keep a secret, got it." You shake your head as you close the locker.
The girl smiles, another lie that you believe so easily. "Why a secret?"
"It´s a long story, but uh... I´m not really a fan talking about family, especially if most of them are shitty rasist who can´t name a single country outside of the US," you shrug.
"Got it, no more mentioning these people." She nods, like she doesn´t already know your whole family tree.
She has a tons of your pictures and videos, special folders on her phone, laptop, flashdisks, everything is sorted out.
Because you two are bonding more and more, she was really happy to make a new special folder of you. If the previous photos were only for her, these kinds of pictures are under increased security.
"You look so pretty, so so so pretty," she smiles at you kneeling on the bed, your hands covering your face, from all the emberassement. "Don´t be shy, puppy, look at me... come on." She takes her phone and opens camera.
"Amber..." you basically whine.
"What? Can´t I take a picture of a pretty girl on my bed?" She makes a photo. "Put those hands away for me."
You do, blushing like crazy, this is not something you´re used to. But you want to make her happy, seeing her smile at you makes something inside of you tingle.
"Pretty girl, look at you!" She smirks.
What you didn´t know, was that she has another camera in her room and every single time you´re there, you are increasing the number of files in her folder.
Even though the two of you are not official yet, everyone can see that Amber holds this sort of protection over you.
Another collage party, which is not a place you would chose to spend your time, but everyone decided to go and you didn´t want to be the only one saying no.
You are sitting on the couch next to Tara and Mindy, talking about your plans for the weekend, when all of the sudden a tall most would say handsome guy sit infront of you.
"That seat is occupied," Mindy says.
He looks around, "I don´t see anyone here. So..." He winks at you.
"That seat is occupied, they just went to grab someting to drink," you yell, because of the loud music.
"I wouldn´t leave such a pretty little thing on her own..." He smiles and you´re ready to throw up.
And before you or any of the girls could say anything, Amber steps in. "She is not alone, you dipshit."
He chuckles and stands up, "and who are you?"
"I don´t want to have a conversation with you," she splashes one of the drinks into his face, which indeed makes him leave with screaming something about a bitch.
"Oh wow, I respect that." Mindy says and Tara just stares at Amber.
"Um- thanks?" You look at Amber.
"Sorry about the drink, here take mine." She smiles as she gives you the only drink that survived.
Amber is very observing, she knows everything about you, even stuff you didn´t figure out on your own, but there are times when you totally shock her.
"Are you crazy, what are you doing here?" Amber yells at you. Walking in the rain was not the smartest decision you made. You were frozen to the bone
"I wanted to suprise you..." you smile softly.
"Wha- come in, jesus!" She steps aside so you can come inside her apartment, rushing to the bathroom for a towel.
"You uh said you had some hard time at work, so I just assumed... that maybe I could cheer you up a little bit." You say while your whole body is trembling.
Amber walks out with a towel and some of her clothes, looking at you like a deer in the headlights.
"I brought your favorite donuts and some nice relaxing candles. And we can order some sushi later. And if you´d like I can help with something, or just... keep you company, since I have zero idea what you´re doing at work." You let out a chuckle, "I mean most of the things I brought are completly wet, but I think they suvived it."
"You´re such a dumbass, do you know that?" Amber shakes her head, helping you put the things down and covering you up in a towel. "Why didn´t you call me, I could pick you up?"
"That woudln´t be a suprise, duh."
"God, we will be lucky if you won´t die from hypothermia, right now."
"I´m not helping with the stress, huh?" you sigh.
"(Y/N), I appraciate the effort, I really do, but next time, don´t try to walk in the worst thunderstorm, alright?"
"I think I could do that, yeah." The both of you laughed.
She loves PDA, her hands are on you all the time. Amber, an ardent lover of public displays of affection, is perpetually tactile, her hands finding peace on the lower back, intertwining fingers, and linked arms, embracing herself around her world.
“I’ll take this, thank you, pretty girl,” she says as she holds your hand for the billionth time today.
Amber is being your personal driver, driving you everywhere you need. Even if it means she has to wake up sooner, when you have classes, she will drive you no matter what.
The both of you made Saturdays as your movie nights.
"What are we chosing tonight?" Amber asks from the batrhoom.
You scroll through the Netflix, "how about the new season of YOU?"
Amber stops at her tracks, "um... what´s that?"
"You don´t know YOU?! What?! It´s really good show! We have to watch it."
"But you´ve already seen it, I don´t want to bother you by watching something twice..." She tries to skate out of it.
"No, no, it´s fine. I really enjoyed it and you will too!" You smile, clicking on the first season.
This was the biggest paradox in Amber´s life.
"Wow, that´s some stalker shit, just like you are!" Amber says with a light nudge.
"Oh shut up! I said if bilions of times, I didn´t stalk you. I don´t do that."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, (Y/N)," Amber teases you, "but following me like a lost puppy, liking my old photo, going through my social media, are you sure you´re not a Joe to my Beck?" Oh she´s pushing it, but for you, it´s just a silly missunderstanding that happened few motnths ago.
Despite her focus on academics and socializing, Amber harbors a secret talent for photography. She has a knack for capturing candid moments and hidden emotions, using her camera lens to express herself in ways that words cannot. And when it is combined with you?
Perfection.
Amber loves when you 'steal' her clothes, there is no better view than you in her bed with only her oversized shirt on you.
"Is that my shirt?" Amber looks at you, as youre already in bed, waiting for the usual movie night.
"Definetly not," you shake your head, taking the blanket to cover you.
"Oh- then what is your favorite song?" She smirks.
"Huh?"
"You have my favorite band on your shirt, what is your favorite song from them?" Amber asks again.
"Oh... um- all of them." Good save?
She laughs "All of them? It is not a band shirt, it´s a car logo, pretty girl."
You blush, "oh." Not a good save.
"It´s fine, keep the shirt, you look pretty in it." She lays next to you, putting an arm around you, keeping you close as possible.
In her free time, Amber enjoys exploring antique shops and flea markets, searching for unique treasures and hidden gems to add to her collection. She has a keen eye for things like this.
Thank you for reading!
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novaursa · 5 months ago
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The Flames We Hide
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- Summary: You were returning from Dragonpit with your sister, Rhaenyra, when you saw Harwin. And you both have a silent agreement: to size another moment together, no matter how brief or fleeting.
- Paring: targ!reader/Harwin Strong
- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is younger twin sister of Rhaenyra, is bonded to a dragon and has strong resemblance to her grandmother Alyssa. These events happen right after The Secret Flame. Visit my blog for more works like this. The list is pinned to the top.
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Word count: 4 622
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
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The sky burns in shades of amber and rose as the sun dips toward the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the world beneath you. The winds tug at your silver-gold hair, whipping it back in wild tangles as you soar high above the lands on the broad wings of Silixia. The she-dragon’s powerful muscles ripple beneath you, every beat of her wings a steady rhythm that reverberates through your entire body. You lean forward, your hands gripping the familiar curve of Silixia’s neck, feeling the warmth of her scales beneath your gloves.
Beside you, your sister Rhaenyra rides atop Syrax, her golden dragon a flash of lightning against the fading daylight. The two of you are a matched pair, always in tandem, even in flight. The court speaks of your bond with wonder and envy—twins in blood, daughters of the king, yet so very different. Rhaenyra’s laughter echoes through the air, mingling with the shriek of Syrax, a sound full of reckless joy and the heady thrill of freedom. Your own smile curves across your lips, a rare expression these days, as you push Silixia to fly faster, challenging Rhaenyra in your unspoken competition.
For a moment, you’re not Y/N Targaryen, princess of the realm, but simply a girl with her sister, free of the burdens and expectations that weigh on you daily. Up here, in the skies, you are boundless.
But it’s a fleeting escape, as you both know.
The winds whistle in your ears as you descend toward the Dragonpit, the ancient stone structure looming in the distance. Even from here, you see the specks of the Dragonkeepers, rushing to prepare for your arrival. The world below draws closer with each passing second, and with it, the return to the pressures of the court—pressures neither you nor Rhaenyra wish to face. You steal a glance at your sister, noticing the tightness around her eyes, the way her jaw clenches as she too begins the descent.
Marriage proposals. The word alone feels like a chain around your neck, heavy and unyielding. They’ve plagued you both since you were of age—foolish lords and ambitious knights seeking to claim your hand, thinking they might wield the power of the Iron Throne through you. Your father, King Viserys, listens to the lords’ suggestions with increasing frequency, entertaining every potential match, though none ever seem to stick.
Rhaenyra once joked that the king might have betrothed you to half the realm by now if he could make up his mind. The most recent farce was a suggestion of a Blackwood heir, a boy barely out of his swaddling clothes. It had made you laugh, a rare and bitter sound, but the truth was, these discussions grated on you both.
As your dragons land in unison with an earth-shaking thud before the Dragonpit, the ground trembles beneath their weight. Silixia growls low in her throat, molten-gold eyes flashing as she looks toward the Dragonkeepers with wary interest. You run a gloved hand down her brass scales, murmuring soft words of reassurance as she snorts, sending a gust of warm breath that rustles your skirts.
“Sometimes I wish we could stay up there forever,” Rhaenyra says, her voice edged with the same melancholy that grips your heart. She dismounts Syrax with fluid grace, her gaze drifting skyward as if she could will the sun to stand still and delay the inevitable return to the Red Keep. You understand her sentiment all too well; in the skies, the concerns of land-bound mortals feel distant, insignificant.
You slide down from Silixia’s side, boots crunching against the gravel. “At least up there, no one’s shoving marriage contracts in our faces,” you reply, your tone carrying more bite than you intend. Silixia’s tail flicks, brushing against your side in a gesture of comfort, and you smile at her affectionately. “Father may claim he’s thinking of what’s best for us, but it feels more like he’s trying to sell us off.”
Rhaenyra’s expression darkens, her violet eyes narrowing. “He doesn’t see it that way,” she mutters, her voice laced with frustration. “To him, it’s our duty—marrying to secure alliances, continuing the Targaryen line. But it’s never about us, is it?”
The Dragonkeepers approach cautiously, guiding Silixia and Syrax toward their lairs. The great doors creak open, and the smell of straw, smoke, and dragon flesh fills the air. Silixia reluctantly allows herself to be led, casting one last, longing glance at you before disappearing into the darkness. You feel a pang in your chest as she’s taken away, though you know she’ll be safe.
“No, it isn’t,” you agree softly, turning to face Rhaenyra as the last rays of the sun cast your shadows long against the stone. “But Father isn’t the only one who decides our fate, Rhaenyra. If we let them all dictate our lives, we’ll never have a say in our own stories.”
Rhaenyra’s eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see the same fire in them that burns within you—a desire to break free, to carve your own path. “We’ll have to make our own way then, won’t we?” she says, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You and I, together.”
“Together,” you echo, determination strengthening your voice. Whatever the realm or the lords conspire, you and Rhaenyra would not be mere pawns. The blood of the dragon flows through your veins, and dragons do not bend to the whims of others.
As the sun passes fully beneath the horizon, the golden light fading into twilight, you know that this brief escape is over. The court awaits, and with it, the endless schemes and proposals, but you’ll face them with your sister by your side. And perhaps, if the gods are kind, there might be a way to chart your own destiny, one that doesn’t leave you chained by the expectations of others.
With one last glance at the sky, you turn toward the path leading back to the Red Keep, your sister falling into step beside you. The night is full of uncertainties, but as long as you have each other, you’ll find a way to burn bright and free.
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The council chamber is filled with the low murmur of voices and the sound of parchment being unrolled as the small council convenes. The sun filters through the high windows, casting shadows across the dark wood of the table where the lords of Westeros sit, advising the king. At the head of the table, King Viserys I sits with an air of distracted authority, his mind clearly elsewhere, but nonetheless prepared to endure another round of discussions on the matters of the realm.
Lord Lyonel Strong, seated at his place on the council, finds it difficult to focus. His thoughts are a tangled web, caught between duty to his house and the growing concern for his eldest son, Harwin. For weeks now, Harwin’s unexpected confession has haunted Lyonel. Harwin’s words replay in his mind over and over: “Father, I am in love with her.” 
Lyonel had always known Harwin to be a man of quiet strength, with a loyalty that ran as deep as any river, but he had not expected this. It was not the confession of love itself that troubled Lyonel—though it was a complicated and dangerous emotion where a Targaryen princess was concerned—but the implications. If word reached the king that Harwin had grown too close to Y/N, it could spell disaster for House Strong, and worse, for the princess herself. The realm would not take kindly to whispers of such intimacy, especially in the shadow of Rhaenyra’s own contentious situation.
He suppresses a sigh as the discussion turns, the lords now speaking of the princess Y/N and her betrothal. Viserys’ brow furrows slightly as Lord Otto Hightower speaks up, his voice as oily and insidious as ever.
“The matter of Princess Y/N’s marriage cannot be delayed much longer, Your Grace. The Blackwood heir remains a favorable option—an ancient and noble house, strong ties in the Riverlands…” Otto’s voice trails off as he glances around the table, his eyes sharp and calculating.
Viserys looks tired, the mention of yet another marriage proposal clearly grating on him. “The Blackwood boy is still a child,” the king mutters, almost to himself. “Barely a year old. I do not see how a match like that benefits Y/N.”
Lyonel’s grip tightens on the arms of his chair. Harwin had been crushed when the proposal first came to light, unable to mask his anger at the idea of Y/N being married off to someone so unsuitable. Lyonel had known better than to comment on it then, but now, as the subject resurfaces, a plan begins to form in his mind. It is a risky maneuver, one that could backfire spectacularly, but it is the only chance he sees to protect both his son and the princess.
The discussion drags on, but Lyonel barely hears it, his thoughts focused on what he will say to the king when the others leave. When the meeting finally concludes, and the lords begin to gather their things, Lyonel remains seated, waiting for the others to clear out. Viserys notices and raises an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Lord Lyonel,” Viserys says, his voice expectant. “It seems you have something on your mind.”
“Your Grace, if I might have a word in private,” Lyonel replies carefully, rising from his chair with a slight bow. Viserys gestures for the guards to leave the chamber, and soon the room is quiet, save for the crackling of the hearth.
“What troubles you?” Viserys asks, leaning back in his seat with a weary expression. “It is rare for you to seek private counsel with me.”
Lyonel’s heart pounds in his chest, but he keeps his face composed, as he has always done. “It is a matter regarding Princess Y/N, Your Grace. And her marriage.”
Viserys sits up a little straighter, his weariness giving way to curiosity. “Go on.”
“I understand that there has been much discussion of potential matches, including the recent talk of a Blackwood heir. I would not presume to question the wisdom of your council, but I believe there is another path that has not yet been fully considered—one that could ensure both the stability of the realm and the happiness of your daughter.”
Viserys frowns slightly, his eyes narrowing. “And what match might that be, Lord Lyonel?”
Lyonel chooses his words with the utmost care. “My son, Ser Harwin, has always been loyal to the crown, a man of proven strength and honor. I believe he could be a fitting match for Princess Y/N.”
Viserys’ surprise is evident in the way his eyebrows shoot up. “Harwin Strong?” The king’s tone is one of genuine shock. “I had not considered such a proposal from you, Lyonel. You’ve never once sought advancement for your house in this manner. Why now?”
Lyonel forces himself to hold the king’s gaze. “Because I believe this match would benefit not only my house but your daughter as well. Harwin’s affection for her is sincere, Your Grace. He would be devoted to her in both heart and duty. And the crown would gain a staunch ally in the Riverlands through House Strong.”
Viserys leans back in his chair, his eyes distant as he considers the proposal. “It is unexpected,” he admits. “But sincere affection, as you say, is not often found in such matters. Still, I must consider the optics. The princess… she is a Targaryen, and such a match would raise eyebrows. Harwin is a good man, but he does not hold the power or prestige of some of the other houses being proposed.”
Lyonel nods, expecting this reaction. “True, Your Grace. But there is strength in loyalty and love. Harwin would never see the princess used or diminished by court politics. He would protect her fiercely, as he has always protected those he cares for. Surely, a match built on genuine regard would lead to a more harmonious union than one based solely on titles.”
Viserys remains silent for a long moment, his fingers drumming on the table as he contemplates the idea. “You make a compelling case, Lyonel,” he says at last, his tone softer now, as if genuinely pondering the possibility. “But this is not a decision I will take lightly. I will consider it, but there are other matters to weigh as well.”
Lyonel bows his head in acknowledgment, sensing that he has planted the seed he needed to. “Of course, Your Grace. I only ask that you weigh it with care. The princess’s happiness—and the stability of the realm—must be our highest priority.”
Viserys nods, though his expression remains conflicted. “You are dismissed, Lyonel. I will think on what you’ve said.”
As Lyonel takes his leave, he feels the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. He knows he has taken a bold risk, one that could either secure a brighter future for his son and the princess—or doom them both if it fails. But for now, all he can do is wait and hope that Viserys’s heart leans toward the idea of love and loyalty over ambition and politics.
The door closes softly behind him, and the chamber is left in silence, with only the faint crackle of the fire echoing in the room.
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The streets of King’s Landing are alive with the usual noise and bustle of the city as dusk settles over the capital. The gold cloaks of the City Watch patrol every corner, their eyes sharp for trouble. Ser Harwin Strong rides at the head of a small detachment, his gaze roving over the streets with practiced vigilance. His armor gleams in the fading light, and his presence alone is enough to command respect from the men under his command. 
Yet, beneath the exterior of duty, Harwin’s thoughts are elsewhere. He cannot shake the weight of his father’s concerns, the quiet warnings Lyonel had shared after Harwin’s confession. There are dangers in being so close to the princess, but the heart is a stubborn thing, and his heart belongs wholly to Y/N. Her laughter, her fierce spirit, the fire in her violet eyes—they haunt him in moments when he should be focused. 
As his patrol rounds the corner near the Dragonpit, his attention sharpens when he sees a group approaching. The distinctive white cloaks of the Kingsguard stand out against the shadowy backdrop of the city. Harwin immediately recognizes the figures being escorted—Princess Rhaenyra and her twin sister, Y/N, mounted on fine steeds and surrounded by the armored knights sworn to protect them. The sight of Y/N sends a jolt through him, a mix of yearning and concern. 
Their eyes meet, and in that brief moment, a silent understanding passes between them. There’s no need for words; they know each other too well. Y/N gives the faintest nod, and Harwin feels his pulse quicken. Whatever it is she’s planning, he’s already committed to playing his part. 
Suddenly, Y/N sways in her saddle, her hand fluttering to her forehead as if struck by a sudden dizziness. The Kingsguard immediately take notice, and Ser Harrold Westerling, ever vigilant, urges his horse closer. “Princess, are you unwell?” he asks, his voice laced with concern. 
Y/N’s voice is faint, but convincing. “I feel… light-headed. Perhaps the strain of the flight has caught up with me.” She sways again for emphasis, and Harwin spurs his horse forward, concern etched into his features. 
“Ser Harrold, allow me to assist the princess,” Harwin says, his tone urgent yet respectful. He moves his horse beside Y/N’s, ready to catch her should she falter further. “I’ll take her to the Red Keep myself, where she can be seen to immediately.”
Ser Harrold’s eyes narrow, suspicion flickering in their depths. “That will not be necessary, Ser Harwin. The princess will be escorted by me and my men directly to the Keep. We are under strict orders from the king.”
Harwin’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his expression neutral. “I understand, Ser Harrold, but I’ve known the princess since she was a child. Let me ensure her safety, as I would see to my own kin. I can bring her swiftly and with care.”
Before Ser Harrold can respond, Rhaenyra rides forward, her eyes gleaming with barely concealed mischief as she catches on to her sister’s ploy. “Ser Harrold, it is clear that Y/N is in distress, and she would be more comfortable with someone familiar. Ser Harwin has always been a trusted protector of our family.” She tilts her head slightly, letting a hint of command slip into her tone. “Surely, you would not deny my sister the comfort she needs when it is readily available?”
Ser Harrold glances between the two princesses, clearly torn. On one hand, his duty is unwavering; on the other, Rhaenyra’s argument is persuasive, and there’s little cause to suspect foul play. He knows better than to openly contradict a royal daughter, especially one as willful as Rhaenyra. After a long, tense moment, he relents, though his reluctance is obvious.
“Very well, Ser Harwin,” Ser Harrold says, his voice tinged with resignation. “But know that I’ll hold you to your word that the princess reaches the Keep unharmed and without delay. The king will hear of this if she does not.”
“On my honor,” Harwin replies, dipping his head with a solemn expression, though a flicker of relief and triumph gleams in his eyes. 
With that, Rhaenyra flashes a sly grin at her sister and spurs her horse onward, leaving Y/N and Harwin behind. “I’ll see you at the Keep, sister,” she says, her voice lilting with amusement. “Do take care on your way.” She gives Ser Harrold and the other Kingsguard a pointed look, leading them on toward the Keep as they follow her.
Once they’re out of earshot, Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, her feigned dizziness evaporating as she steadies herself in the saddle. Harwin watches her closely, a hint of admiration in his gaze.
“Quite the performance,” he murmurs, guiding his horse closer to hers as they begin to ride slowly, side by side, through the quieter streets. “I almost believed you were truly unwell.”
Y/N’s lips curve into a playful smile. “I thought it convincing enough. It’s not every day a princess needs rescuing, after all.” But the teasing lilt in her voice is softened by the warmth in her eyes as she meets his gaze. “Thank you for playing along, Harwin.”
“For you? Always,” Harwin replies, his voice low and sincere. He reaches out, his fingers briefly brushing against hers in a gesture that is both subtle and intimate, hidden from prying eyes in the fading light. “But tell me, what is it you needed from me that required such theatrics?”
Y/N’s expression turns more serious as she considers her words. “I needed a moment away from all the expectations, away from the endless talks of marriage and duty. And more importantly… I needed a moment with you.” The weight of her admission hangs between them, unspoken but understood.
Harwin’s breath hitches slightly, his heart tightening at her words. He has always known this dance between them is a dangerous one, but it is one he cannot resist. “Every time I see you surrounded by those guards, by the chains of duty that bind you, it makes me wish things were different,” he says softly, his voice full of yearning. “I wish I could be more than just a protector.”
Y/N turns in her saddle, her gaze locking onto his. “You are more, Harwin. You know you are.”
For a moment, the world shrinks to just the two of them—the city, the court, all of it fades away. But reality cannot be ignored forever, and the path to the Red Keep looms ahead. They both know this brief interlude is all they can afford, but the unspoken promises between them are enough for now.
As they approach the gates, Harwin reluctantly pulls his hand away and straightens in his saddle, resuming the role of dutiful knight. “I’ll see you safely back to your chambers, Princess,” he says formally, though the glint in his eyes tells her everything he cannot say aloud.
“Until the next escape, Ser Harwin,” she replies with a soft smile, a hidden message beneath the words. 
With that, they continue toward the Keep, knowing that while their paths may be dictated by duty and expectation, there are still moments they can carve out for themselves—stolen glances, hidden touches, and unspoken vows that bind them closer than any formal oath could.
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The vast halls of the Red Keep are quieter than usual as the day gives way to the cool embrace of evening. The golden light from the torches flickers on the stone walls, casting long shadows that dance and twist in the dim corridors. As Harwin escorts you back to your chambers, you can feel the weight of the day slowly lifting, replaced by the familiar tension that simmers between you and him. It’s a tension that has grown with each stolen glance, each brief touch hidden from prying eyes.
As you approach the throne room, Ser Harrold Westerling stands at the entrance, his white cloak billowing slightly as he catches sight of you. His eyes shift briefly to Harwin, a silent acknowledgment in his expression. Though his face remains stern, there’s a flicker of understanding—a silent nod that tells Harwin he has done his duty and that the princess has been safely returned. 
“Ser Harwin,” Harrold says in a gruff voice as the two pass by him. He doesn’t need to say more. The message is clear: this is where their paths diverge, but he’ll trust Harwin to see the princess the rest of the way. Harwin dips his head respectfully in return, but his focus remains on you as you make your way deeper into the Keep.
The royal quarters are just ahead, but Harwin notices something in your expression—a spark in your eyes and the faintest curve of a smile on your lips. He knows that look all too well, the one that signals you’re about to do something reckless, something entirely unplanned. Before he can even ask what you’re plotting, you move with a sudden swiftness, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward a shadowed alcove. Your fingers grip his with a sense of urgency and mischief.
“Y/N, what—” he starts, but you silence him with a playful look, your eyes gleaming with a secretive promise. 
You drag him behind a heavy tapestry, revealing a hidden doorway that he hadn’t noticed before. The stone creaks as you push it open, leading into a small, dimly lit chamber tucked away from the prying eyes of the court. The air inside is thick with dust, as if it hasn’t been disturbed in years. Harwin’s breath catches in his throat as he realizes where you’ve brought him—a place so private that it feels as if it belongs only to the two of you.
The moment the door closes behind you, the pretense falls away, leaving only the truth of your feelings. The tension that has been building throughout the day snaps, and you close the distance between you in an instant. Your lips crash against his, the kiss fierce and full of the passion that you both have been forced to suppress. Harwin responds without hesitation, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer until there is nothing between you but the heat of your bodies. 
It’s a dance you both know well by now—his lips mapping the familiar curve of your neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging as his kisses trail down to your collarbone. There’s a hunger in his touch, tempered by a tenderness that only you bring out in him. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he kisses you again, slower this time, savoring every second. You press closer, your hands slipping beneath the leather of his armor, finding the hard planes of his chest beneath. The feel of his heartbeat, strong and steady, thrums beneath your palm, grounding you in this moment.
“Every time I think of you marrying another,” Harwin murmurs against your lips, his voice a low, desperate whisper, “it drives me mad. The thought of losing you… I don’t know how I’d bear it.”
You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes searching his as you trace a line down the side of his face. “You won’t lose me,” you breathe, your words laced with quiet determination. “Not now. Not ever. I belong to no one but myself—and to you, if the gods are kind.”
Harwin’s grip tightens on your waist, a flash of fierce emotion in his eyes. “I want more than stolen moments, more than secret chambers and whispers in the dark,” he confesses, his voice thick with longing. “I want to be with you openly, without fear or restraint.”
“I want that too,” you reply, your voice trembling with sincerity. “But until then, until we find a way… we have this.” Your hand trails down to his chest, your fingers pressing against the rhythm of his heartbeat, as if to mark it as your own.
His lips find yours again, softer this time, a kiss that speaks of unspoken vows and promises that only the two of you understand. His hand slides down your back, memorizing every curve, every dip, as if committing it to memory for the nights when you can’t be together. Your own touch mirrors his, tracing the line of his jaw, the strength in his shoulders, and the warmth that radiates from his skin. Every touch, every kiss is laced with the knowledge that this cannot last—at least not now. 
As much as it pains you both, there’s no time to linger. The world beyond this hidden chamber is waiting, and you both know that others will soon seek you out. Harwin pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you catching your breath, hearts racing as you savor the closeness one last time.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” you whisper, your fingers brushing against his lips.
“So do I,” Harwin murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to your brow. “But we’ll find more moments like this. I promise you.”
You smile softly, the sadness in your eyes giving way to a glimmer of hope. “Until then… we’ll make the most of what we have.”
Reluctantly, you both disentangle, fixing your clothes and smoothing out your appearances to mask any signs of your secret rendezvous. Harwin’s hand lingers on yours as you step back into the corridor, the hidden door sliding closed behind you. The tapestry falls back into place, and it’s as if nothing ever happened—just another cold stone wall in the labyrinth of the Red Keep.
But as you make your way back to your chambers, Harwin’s gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes holding yours for a heartbeat longer. There’s a silent agreement between you, one that needs no words—this isn’t the end, just another chapter in a story that’s far from over.
With one last glance over your shoulder, you offer him a small, secret smile—the same one you gave him earlier, full of the promise of more unpredictable escapes, more stolen kisses, and the hope that one day, these moments won’t have to be stolen at all. Harwin watches you disappear into the shadows of the royal quarters, the ache in his chest both a comfort and a torment as he turns away, returning to his duties, but with the warmth of your touch still lingering on his skin.
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realms-and-creatures · 9 months ago
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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 5 months ago
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Call Me biles
Stiles Stilinski Masterlist Summary: Being Coach’s daughter isn’t that bad. Of course, you're in the lacrosse team, which makes him proud and happy. But falling for the worst player (after Greenberg), going out with him in secret, and lying to your dad… That's bad. But the worst is… Ever since you started dating him, you've been calling him Biles and no one told you you were wrong. Word Count: 2080 Pairing: Stiles x F!Reader A/n: I was feeling the absolute worse today so decided to write the absolute cutest story I could to cheer me up. Teen Wolf, it's been a while! Hope y'all enjoy! Sorry for any mistake! (I wrote this with 3 hours of sleep)
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“Faster! My grandma could beat you with her eyes closed, and she’s dead! You suck Greenberg! That’s good sweetie, keep going!”
Obviously, Coach was after everyone. It was understandable, Beacon Hills hadn't won a game in forever, it was almost depressing to be on this team. Other schools made fun of you when they crushed you during games. 
And Coach wasn’t only screaming at the student in his team, but at everyone in the class currently running on the field.
But obviously, when Coach spoke to you, he didn't treat you the same way as the others. His tone changed, a proud smile appeared on his face, and he began to encourage you instead of denigrating you.
Obviously. Since Coach was your dad.
You finished your lap, out of breath, and leaned over to put your hands on your knees. In the distance, you could hear your dad's voice return to its usual tone as other insults replaced the encouragement he only offered to you. 
“Is that everyone?” You looked up to see the last person finally finishing their lap and collapsing in front of your dad, face red and covered in sweat. A small laugh escaped your vigilance with a smile that you quickly hid when you saw you had Coach's attention on you. “Pathetic,” he finished as he headed towards the school, announcing that class was over.
You watched him out of the corner of your eye, and, once certain that he was out of range, headed towards the poor wretch collapsed on the ground.
“Biles!” you laughed, helping him up. “You really need to improve your cardio, or we’ll get crushed at the next game!”
Once on his feet, you met his gaze and it was your turn to lose your breath as you inevitably lost yourself in the beauty of his amber eyes.
“You’re dad will crush me before,” he grimaced as he started walking towards the school alongside you. It was the first class of the day, and you knew the rest of the day would be long, especially with Lacrosse practice scheduled for the evening. “You’re lucky he’s not always on your back, you know?”
You shook your head, understanding what he meant. “He wants what’s best for me. I asked to join the team, he didn’t force me nor did he agreed I join because I was his daughter. He made me go through the tryouts like everyone else and I got no special treatments or favoritism. He just… Made a promise to my mom before she passed away, to never be the cause of my tears. He’s a great dad. Well, except when it comes to dating boys…”
Biles shook his head and sighed as he opened the door to let you enter the school first. “What about the other guys? Aren’t they mad about Coach’s daughter being on the team?”
At his question, a grimace of suffering stretched your face and you stopped walking. Biles mimicked your movement and turned to you, one eyebrow raised.
“Let’s say he made it veeeeerryyyy clear to the ones that complained. And the few ones that started rumors…” You shivered at the thought. “You don’t wanna know.”
“I don’t wanna know,” an expression of terror was now on his face. “Alright, I’ll hit the shower, see you at lunch,” Biles quickly scanned his surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and leaned down to place his lips on yours. They were soft and warm and even though it wasn't the first kiss you had shared, the butterflies still woke up in your stomach.
“See you later,” you watched him leave, a stupid smile plastered on your face.
Gosh, you loved that boy.
-
Later the same day, it was Lacrosse practice.
Even though you had spent time with Biles during the day, you were very excited to see him again to play the sport that bonded you two together at the beginning. And then, hiding from your father all day, always looking behind your shoulder to make sure no one was following you, spending dinner breaks in Biles' jeep to make sure no other teacher saw you together at the cafeteria…
It was grueling.
Sometimes, you wish you had the courage to just tell your dad. After all, even though he appeared rather withdrawn, he always supported you in your decisions and encouraged you to pursue your dreams. But a boy in your life?
You feared his reaction.
“Hey, Stiles!” 
The unfamiliar name, albeit with a familiar connotation, caught your attention and you turned your head towards the source. Practice had already started, but as usual, your boyfriend was on the bench while you were on the field. The person who had just spoken was also on the team, number 11 and friend of Biles, who, true to form, arrived late.
Biles jumped to his feet as if he had springs in his shoes and rushed towards Scott to whisper something frantically. You raised an eyebrow, not really understanding the reason for the secrets exchanged between the two boys, and continued playing without worrying anymore about what was happening.
-
Stiles Pov
“Hey, Stiles!”
Nervousness coursed through his veins as if he had just received a violent electric shock. The current reached his feet, and immediately he was standing up and rushing towards Scott, his stress-fueled speed almost on par with the werewolves.
“Biles. My name is Biles. Call me Biles!” Stiles quickly whispered, his hands going all over the place as if he was trying to fly away. 
Scott froze, his mouth half open, and his gaze left his friend and rested on the source of all this stress. The girl in question had stopped playing to look at them, but quickly returned to the game, shrugging one shoulder. “You know, you should tell her.”
“Are you crazy?!” Stiles' voice rose an octave, which caught Coach's attention. A quick wave of his hand to apologize, and Stiles continued the conversation in a low voice. “She’s Coach’s kid, and I love her so much, man, if she thinks my name is Biles, my name is Biles. Hell, I’m ready to change it on my birth certificate.”
Scott looked at his friend with wide eyes. “You love her that much?”
Stiles sighed, his head turning to look behind him where the girl of his dreams had just caught the ball and scored a point. Pleased with herself, her gaze immediately went to her dad who applauded her, then to him, Stiles - well, Biles, who looked at her with eyes full of affection. “You have no idea.”
--
“Stilinski! On the field! Greenberg, out of my sight!”
Hearing his name, Stiles was already standing, helmet on his head and lacrosse stick in his hands. Since he arrived, he was ready to play and radiated energy. Finally on the field, he ran towards the person he wanted to see the most and stopped next to her, smiling under his helmet. 
“Hey there.”
“Hey,” she replied, her smile just as big.
A loud whistle startled them both, but it was the calling of their names that made them break out in a cold sweat. Sweats of horror. Sweats…
Of terror.
“Stilinski! Finstock! Stop flirting and go go go!!” Coach yelled in their direction. 
Stiles shared a frightened look with his girlfriend, the fear of being found out strong in their veins. “Do you think he knows?”
“We were careful,” Y/n whispered as she ran to the other side of the field to start the practice match again. “But I can ask him after practice,” she offered, but seeing the fear in Stiles’ eyes, she felt compelled to specify “subtly, obviously.”
“Your dad scares me,” he added, getting into position.
“I know,” Y/n replied with a sigh. “I know.”
-
Your pov
The practice match was over. Although usually, playing Lacrosse managed to cure all of your daily life stresses and struggles, this time, even the sport that you knew and loved couldn’t stop the tornado of thoughts that invaded your mind.
Did your father find out about your relationship with Biles or not???
If so, you had to do everything to protect him, otherwise you were afraid for his life.
But first of all, you had to ask your father, subtly, if he had any doubts about the nature of your relationship with the number 24.
“Good job tonight Y/n! Dad’s proud of you!” 
You had just returned to the stands when Coach walked to you, a friendly pat of encouragement on the back. Usually, you would have been really delighted -your father's compliments were as precious as a treasure lost for hundreds of years- but stress prevented all good feelings from existing. For the last hour, you've been reciting what you were going to say, how to ask him, how to bring up the subject without seeming suspicious, how-
“I was thinking, hotdogs for dinner. You down?” Your father asked, cutting off all your concentration and courage to ask him. 
“Sure, uhm, dad, I uh… I wanted to-” 
“Why don’t you invite your boyfriend too?” 
You froze. Literally, your whole body turned to marble and you were stuck in the last position you had been in, mouth open, one hand outstretched towards him. Coach was putting away your equipment in your bag, completely unaware of what he just did by asking that simple question.
“Uh?”
“I think it’s time Stilinski acts like a man and steps up for his girl,” your father continued, glancing at you. Then, straightening up, he raised his voice and added: “STILINSKI! COME OVER HERE.”
Like a good soldier, Biles rushed towards Coach and you, leaving everything he was doing behind.
He was missing a shoe.
“Yes, Coach, I’m here, Stilinski, that’s me, reporting, present, right here.” With both hands on his hips, Biles looked at you, then at your father, then back at you, asking a thousand and one silent questions with his facial expressions.
“Hot dogs. You like em?” 
“Yes, sir, love them, enjoy them, delicious, delicate food, truly amazing,” Biles nodded, sweat rolling down his forehead, definitely not from the practice match that had ended 15 minutes ago already.
“Alright. You are eating dinner with us tonight. I think it’s time you stop hiding, you two, gosh,” the coach rolled his eyes and threw his arms in the air, exasperated. For your part, you were still frozen. Your father started to walk away with your sport bag under his arm but suddenly he stopped to turn towards you. “And Stiles?”
“Yes, sir, yes, that’s me, yes?” Your boyfriend responded automatically, his body straightening to form a perfectly vertical straight line.
“You should stop parking in front of my car. I have eyes. Be there for 7!”
With these words, your father disappeared into the school parking lot, where he would wait for you to go back home. But for now...
“Holy shit I’m dead, right?” 
“Wait, your name is STILES? Not Biles???” You exclaimed, turning towards him.
“Is that really what you remember from the conversation?!” 
“You’re not denying it!!”
“I’m gonna die tonight!” 
“You’re gonna be fine, Stiles!” You couldn't believe it. Not only your dad knew about your relationship, but you had completely shamed yourself by not even knowing your boyfriend's real name. “I’ve been calling you the wrong name all this time…” 
You hid your face in your hands. 
“Hey hey…” Warmth settles on your hands, and slowly, Stiles freed your face and gently lift your chin to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you. But I kind of… liked it, you calling me Biles. It was our thing…” Stiles smiled, and damn, that smile was magical. You just couldn’t feel bad having someone so perfect near you. 
“I feel stupid,” you furrowed your brows, your expression pouty.
“If it can make you feel better,” Stiles continued, putting an arm around your shoulders to start walking towards the parking lot with you. “I’ll be dead after tonight, probably,” he added with a laugh. “And also, my real name is not Stiles.”
You stopped walking to look at him. “Really.”
“Yeah. But I’ll only tell you if I survive tonight’s dinner.”
“Alright,” you laughed as you continued walking with him, obvious relief being felt in your heart. It was so nice not to have to hide. “I think I can help with that, Biles. But…” You glanced down.
“Hm?”
“You’re missing a shoe.”
“Oh, I know.”
-
Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa​​ @wickedinspirations​@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive​​ @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore
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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago
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— “it’ll be our little secret, professor”
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☀︎ - pairing: eris vanserra x reader
☀︎ - summary: you hook up with this delicious older man for one fun night to forget your scummy ex, what do you do when the same man turns out to be your new professor?
☀︎ - warnings: smut, oral (m.receiving), hint of degradation, taboo relationships, student x professor, both are obviously old enough, i just want him so bad GOD
☀︎ - amara’s note: this is going to be a series where i’ll post text threads with prof eris, headcanons, just different things. I’m planning this series to be about 10 chapters, but I literally have no structure, I just write. also i hope you like this as much as I do. and if you see any mistakes, no you don’t
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In the corner of the club, everything felt a bit fuzzy. The air was thick with a mix of excitement and different scents. Dim lights created a soft atmosphere, and the distant sounds of the crowd and music blended together. It was like time slowed down, and you were in your own world, just soaking in the low-key vibe of the club corner.
The earlier shots hit you, and now you're in a blissful, relaxed state. All you could focus on were the hands exploring your body, lips locking with yours, and captivating scent surrounding you.
In the heat of the night, you ended up kissing a stranger without a second thought. The risk of being alone with someone unfamiliar did register – you just didn't care. Discovering your boyfriend's cheating after a difficult three-year relationship, marked by numerous breakups and makeups, left you feeling free from a toxic situation.
Now, free from those shackles, you embraced the chance to breathe and have some carefree fun. You had gone out with your friends, planning to originally get black out drunk but you suppose there’s better ways to cope.
Coming up with the idea of harmless fun, you and Elain came up with new identities for everyone to play out. Providing a random name, you spun a fat lie of being an up-and-coming writer, in the middle of writing your latest novel. Falsely claiming to be older, you described a beautiful house situated on the outskirts of Prythian that you owned. It was all part of a lighthearted game, with no harm intended since you believed you'd never cross paths with the guy again. It was ridiculously easy to bag the man since he didn’t tell you anything about himself, only nodding when you talked about yourself.
The attractive stranger had dark copper hair, captivating amber eyes, and stood several inches taller than you. His eyes glistened in mirth mixed with hunger. His muscular build caught your attention, and you found yourself grabbing onto his strong arms.
If his looks didn't captivate you, his mouth certainly did. His wicked tongue unleashed clever comebacks and tantalizing dirty talk that sent shivers down your spine.
The best part? He was older, more mature, more confident and much more good-looking – just so much more than your ex. Comparisons might be wrong, but if you had to choose, the man in front of you was a no-brainer.
Because he wasn't some guy; he was a man who acted like a man, who spoke like a man and touched you like a real fucking man.
The man had been touching and kissing you for what felt like an eternity. You greedily wanted more from him. You didn't want to regret not taking the chance, and almost as if he could sense it, he invited you back to his place.
You nodded, excusing yourself to let your friends know about leaving. Approaching them, you shared your decision to go with him, and Gwyn, Nesta, Em and Elain cheered you on. However, Feyre, always the protective friend, expressed her concern.
“Go get some, but I swear I’ll hunt him down if anything happens, got it? And have your location on.”
Her words, while somewhat playful, held a genuine undertone of worry.
You nodded and promised her you’d be safe before hurriedly made your way outside to the handsome man.
“Still want to come with me, sweet thing?” he asked curiously, making sure it was still something you wanted.
“Mm, yeah, still wanna go. Unless you've changed your mind?” Stepping forward, you grabbed the man's tie, pulling it gently as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. A playful glint clouded your gaze as you cocked your head to the side, oozing confidence.
He smirked down at you with a wicked glint, clearly showing his mind was nowhere near changed. The man stepped forward, rubbing his clothed cock against your dress, making you feel his hard on through his pants
“Does it feel like I’ve changed my mind?”
The chemistry you had was unmatched, he was so clever and witty and you wanted to know more about him as he led you to his car, a sleek, black one, indicating money.
You’d blame your forwardness on the alcohol tomorrow when you remembered how you just blurted out the question.
“Hey, you rich or something?” you giggled.
The man opened up the backseat door for you and through the side of his eye gave you an amused smirk.
“Or something.” he teased.
You rolled your eyes, grinning, as you hopped into the backseat, enjoying the warmth of his hands securing your seatbelt and closing the door.
But hold on, the backseat?
Weren't you supposed to sit upfront with him? Before you could ask, he opened the other backseat door and slid in beside you.
Maintaining eye contact, he grinned at your confusion and said, “Alden, please take us home.” A faint "yes sir" was heard, and the car started moving. Shocked, you realized he had a driver – clearly, he was quite wealthy.
You scanned the spacious car, realizing there was more than enough room for the fun activities on your mind. With a screen separating you from the driver, you unbuckled your seatbelt and moved closer, straddling his lap.
His hands instinctively found your hips, guiding your movements over him. Lips on your neck, he left dark marks as your hands ventured lower, reaching his cock, which elicited a groan from him. Your eyes widened as you felt the size of him. The man simply flashed you a subtle smile and raised his eyebrows.
You unbuckled his belt, maintaining eye contact as you carefully watched his face show pleasure as you put your hand down his pants and stroked him. You gave him a few lazy strokes, eventually shuffling off his lap and kneeling infront of him, ready to put your mouth to use.
Time became irrelevant and all that was heard were the sinful, obscene noises mixed with his hisses of pleasure as you sloppily bobbed your head up and down, swirling your tounge around the head, running your finger over the slit.
“Fuck yeah, that’s it. Could use this slutty little mouth forever.” he rasped, hips bucking as his hands went to your hair, slightly pulling on it as you let out a muffled whimper.
Pre cum and spit dripped down your chin, slowly making it’s way to your chest and floor as you pushed your head down further and further, feeling satisfied at his sounds of pleasure.
Once, twice, you grip on the shaft and slap the tip on your tongue before sucking on the sensitive head.
With a quick twitch of his cock, he cums, experiencing euphoria in his buzzed state. He gasps and moans pitifully as his lips twitch between his teeth and his hips buck into your mouth against his better judgement. You pump your hand at the base of his cock where you are unable to fit, swallowing as much of the hot, sticky ropes that coat your mouth as you can. As he pours into you, the walls of your pussy clench around nothing, so badly wishing your were sitting on the cock that was currently on your tongue.
His cum was everywhere - your hair, your face, your tits. He slumped against the seat and moved his eyes down back to you, catching you licking of the sticky residue of your fingers.
Before either of you have a chance to say something, the car slows down to a halt signaling that you’re probably at his place. He tucks himself into his pants and doesn’t buckle them before he opens the door and grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder as you laugh. Your mind forgets about the fact that you’re covered in his cum and just blanks when you take a look at his so called house, a mansion or a fucking estate is more like it.
The lengthy driveway opened up to a stunning front yard adorned with red and orange-leaved trees, an unusual scene for the end of summer. A well-lit, ornate fountain with three tiers stood proudly infront of the house, enhancing the beauty of the surroundings. The massive Victorian mansion, with its beautiful windows and overgrown vines stunned you.
He set you down and held your hand as he led you into his room, and it overmet your expectations. Instead of a dark, edgy space, it was spacious with earthy tones and bathed in soft ambient lighting. The room exuded comfort, making you wish to stay longer. His bed, adorned with a large fluffy comforter and a million pillows, looked inviting.
Various trinkets and figurines adorned the room, but what captured your attention was a massive bookcase showcasing your favorite books. Intrigued, you dropped his hand and made your way over. Your eyes widened at seeing a book from your wishlist, yet to be released. Confused, you asked how he had it, and he explained that Sellyn Drake was an old family friend and had gifted it to him.
You decided to tease him about the book, saying, “You know, I've heard great many things about this book. How about you tell me what it's about? I heard it had some... exciting scenes.”
His eyes met yours, and with a subtle smile, he stepped closer and closer, “How about I show you instead?” The air seemed to thicken with a hint of tension, leaving you curious and captivated by the possibilities that lingered in his suggestion.
——
Your legs trembled as you hastily stood up, determined to make your exit. Having been fucked stupid all night, dawn was approaching, and the new semester was starting tomorrow, leaving you with a load of preparations. You located your dress, bag, and heels, putting the clothes on carefully. Quietly, you ordered a cab to avoid startling the man still asleep. Before leaving, your eyes lingered on his bookshelf. Tiptoeing closer, you took the book you'd eyed the night before and read the teaser on the back. Glancing between him and the book, grabbed it, and silently left his room and house.
——
Feyre, Elain, Nesta, Gwyn and Em, your friends and roomates, practically pulled you across campus to grab your schedule and check out the new students filling the cafeteria. The buzz of excited chatter and the aroma of coffee and sweet pastries filled the air as you scanned the room. After a few moments, you parted ways, each heading to your respective classrooms, the anticipation of a new semester buzzing in the atmosphere.
You wandered through the literature building, searching for classroom LE4, the place where Advanced Literature with Professor Beron awaited. Memories of your first year with him being an absolute ass lingered, so you hoped he'd calmed down over the summer, giving everyone a fucking break.
You finally entered the huge lecture hall and climbed the stairs, opting for a seat at the back, hoping to fly under the radar in case Professor Beron was in a bad mood.
A few rows down, you spotted your ex, Ilias, with a new girl on his lap. His sleazy smile and wandering hands were more icky than anything ever. Reflecting on why you ever went back to him so many times, you turned around, focused on bringing out your notebook and computer from your bag. As the doors opened, the click-clack of quality shoes echoed through the hall, accompanied by girly giggles and voices creating a murmur in the background.
A jolt of surprise froze you, and your heart seemed to pause for a moment as his voice unexpectedly filled the room. All your previous movement ceased, and a sudden hush fell over the surroundings, creating an atmosphere charged with unexpected tension. The shock of hearing someone you hoped thought to see again made time momentarily stand still.
“Hello. I'm Professor Eris, and I'll be taking over this class. My father used to teach it but has passed away, so I'll be filling his shoes. I anticipate a productive year together. If you doubt your ability to keep up with the rapid pace of this advanced class, I suggest you leave now and spare yourself, as well as me, the trouble.”
Panicking, your eyes scanned the room for any possible escape route. There was just no fucking way you could be in this class when your professor had fucked you against his bookshelf, or when you had his dick shoved down your throat. Sinking in your seat, you desperately opened your computer, using it as a shield, praying he wouldn't notice you. The need to escape intensified, but the fear of drawing attention kept you frozen in your seat.
As dread crept in, he pulled out an attendance list. The sinking feeling deepened as he insisted everyone state why they chose the course. Hiding behind your computer, you debated revealing your presence or attempting to stay under the radar.
"Ilias Smith?"
"Emma Wilson?"
"Jess Lennox?"
"Amanda Gomez?"
Each one confidently declared "here" and delved into passionate remarks about Hemingway, Austen, Kerouac, all the authors that made them choose this course or whatever. Your hands started sweating as Professor Eris called your name. When you hesitated, he repeated it louder, his gaze scanning until it locked onto you.
Anticipating an intense reaction, all you saw was a slight narrowing of his eyes.
“Well? Are you here, Y/N L/N?”
You mumbled a faint "yeah," and when he asked why you were there, your words fumbled, “Uh, I suppose because I like books. A huge fan. Yes.”
Your classmates chuckled at your less-than-impressive answers, and you sunk back into your chair, just observing for the rest of the lecture. A few rows ahead, a group of girls giggled, thinking they were discreet as they whispered about Professor Eris. Their discussions about their fantasies sparked a tiny irritation within you.
Like who the hell gossips about someone, so crudely in broad daylight and during a lecture, especially when it's about a professor? It wasn't jealousy, no, no definitely not.
You just found it… super unsettling.
——
After two suffocating hours, you hastily packed your bag, eager to escape. But just as you were about to disappear, your name echoed in the room.
“Miss L/N, do you mind staying behind? There seems to be a problem with your email,” Professor Eris announced, leaning against his desk with his massive arms crossed. He bid the remaining students goodbye and waited until they all left before locking the doors.
The moment those doors clicked shut, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. The tension became so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.
He turned back around and approached you, merely a few inches away, face a mix of amusement and curiosity.
“Hello there, little liar. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here.”
Your cheeks heated and nervousness filled you at the memory of the depraved moments you'd shared, causing your gaze to involuntarily drop to his chest and wander downward, reliving those sensations.
However any nervousness vanished as you remembered that he was the one who came to your university. If anyone should’ve been surprised it should’ve been you. A mischievous smile played on your lips as you toyed with the idea of making his year more challenging. Testing how good of a man he really was became a tempting game.
After all, a man like him wouldn't indulge a student, right?
This could turn into a fun little project to spice up an otherwise dull year.
Lifting your chin up, you looked him square in the eyes as your lips twitched in anticipation.
“I could say the same, Professor Eris. You definitely don’t seem like the lecturer type.”
His eyes narrowed at you, jaw clenching as his intense gaze bore into yours. The intensity made you shift a little, almost causing you to lose some of your confidence.
“Do you think you're funny? I believe you understand the situation here. You lied and now you're here of all places. As my student. Well, this is an unexpected twist. One of us will have to quit and report this,” he stated, injecting a hint of playfulness into his serious tone.
Wait, quit? No, you really didn't want him to leave. This could turn into such a nice little distraction, and there was no way you were losing it now. The thought of him leaving added a layer of urgency to the situation, making you quickly reassess the potential consequences.
“Come on, professor. It doesn't have to be like this. I won't tell anyone. And who says we have to stay away from each other? I mean, what the dean doesn't know won't hurt him, right?” you suggested, a sly smile playing on your lips as you flirted with the idea of bending the rules.
Eris looked you up and down before throwing his head back and letting out a hearty laugh. Your brows furrowed as you twisted your lips, wondering if he was laughing at you. Was he not taking you seriously? Despite the uncertainty, the desire to keep playing this game with him intensified.
Eris seemed to notice your mood turning sour and promptly clamped his lips shut.
“I promise, sweet thing, I'm not laughing at you. I’m just amazed at your boldness.” he assured you with a more serious tone, attempting to dispel any misunderstanding.
“Promise?”
He stepped forward, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
You both knew that under no circumstances should you be doing this. If anyone caught you, there would be hell to pay. Expulsion and blacklisting from any other Ivy League universities for you, and definitely prison or some sort of pesky law thingy for him.
Yet the mere thought of engaging in something so wrong and secretive made your stomach flip, a mix of thrill and anxiety churning within you.
Looking up through your lashes, you blushed, a deep crimson hue spreading across your cheeks as you once again grabbed his tie and pulled him closer.
“I promise I won't tell anyone, professor. It'll be our little secret,”you whispered, the words laden with a taboo excitement that sent a shiver down your spine.
A wicked gleam flashed in Eris's eyes, and a subtle smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.
“Well then, miss L/N,”he whispered, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Let's see just how well we can keep our little secret.”
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pinkeos · 8 months ago
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A Bit Shy || Jing Yuan x M!Reader (Ft. Their son)
Warning/s: None
Notes: this was a silly idea i started writing a while back and decided to finish before i move on to requests
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Was Yanqing going crazy, or were there several unfamiliar items scattered about the General’s office?
He’s been around the General for quite some time now to know that the coat slung over the backrest of Jing Yuan’s chair didn't belong to the white haired man. Nor did the expensive looking writing brush said man was now using.
Perhaps the General bought them sometime ago and is just using them now?
“Is something the matter?” Jing Yuan inquired, seeing the boy’s amber eyes lingering on the coat.
Yanqing quickly shook his head, “Nothing, General.”
“Have you noticed the new things on the General’s desk?” Yanqing once asked Qingzu, the counselor of the Divine Foresight.
“I did. It is kind of strange, they just suddenly appeared one day.” She replied.
After that, the boy went back to spending his day like he usually did, training, patrolling, the usual Cloud Knight stuff he’d grown accustomed to. But the thought still lingered in his mind.
“Have you heard? They say that a General from a different Xianzhou ship would disappear from time to time, more often than he usually did. How weird.” He heard some of the knights murmur amongst one another.
That was, indeed, weird.
What was even weirder, however, was that he received a gift from the General, that's been the topic of many rumors lately, later that day.
“Is this really for me, General?!” The boy beamed in joy, raising the sheathed sword up like a baby, marveling at the intricate design and patterns of the scabbard.
“Yes.” Jing Yuan nodded, smiling as he sipped his tea, “Make sure to write him a letter, as a thank you.”
Yanqing was too happy that time that he didn't realize something; why would a General he hadn't met in person yet send him a gift? And how did he even find out that he liked swords?
Things were getting even weirder and weirder as the days passed by. The items in Jing Yuan’s desk only became more apparent, the General himself had been much more sleepier during the day as if he was awake late at night, the clues only became more and more obvious.
It didn't help that he saw with his own eyes how the General bought several items that were commonly seen as romantic gifts for one’s lover, or for someone whom they want to court.
But then again, if Jing Yuan really was hiding something— or someone— why wouldn’t he spend even an inkling of effort to properly hide it?
Still, Yanqing had to see it for himself before he could confirm his suspicions. So, he decided that he would investigate.
Late at night, the boy sneaked towards the Seat of Divine Foresight. And as he suspected, the lights were still on with the Cloud Knights that usually guarded the place nowhere to be seen, along with hushed murmurs. The white haired General’s voice was familiar to Yanqing’s ears, but the person he was with wasn't.
“You wound me, darling. You know I can't hold myself back from seeing you.”
Jing Yuan hummed, amused, “Is that so?”
“Aha!” The boy’s booming voice pulled the secret lovers’ attention away from each other, quickly whipping their way towards the open doors where Yanqing now stood.
Now, Yanqing hadn't met you in person, but he'd be damned not to recognize you in the portraits he’d seen in books and online. The lieutenant’s eyes widened at the sight of Jing Yuan with you, the other General, and it turns out you’ve been missing because you were visiting a different ship!
The dots had been connected and Yanqing’s theory had been confirmed.
“Ah, would you look at the time…” You spoke up, swiftly leaving before he could react, you weren't appointed with a high position for nothing.
“W-wait!”
Jing Yuan lightly waved his hand with a soft laugh, “He’s a bit shy.”
The blond boy turned towards him, an eyebrow raised, accusing him, “Wait a minute, were you deliberately leaving hints behind so I’d piece it together and find out, General?!”
“Like I said, he's a bit shy.”
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Ending note: i actually forgot qingzu's name so i had to open the game real quick and went back to the seat of divine foresight to check🧍
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callmemaeverick · 6 months ago
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Gray
Disclaimer: This is pure indulgence okay. It's my interpretation of the Force, my view of the Jedi after ep 8, and my theory of what happened. P/S: pls read tag for TWs
PPS: If you didn’t know yet, Manny did a futuristic Sci-Fi podcast where he voiced a soldier. Theres quite a bit of injury involved.. if you wanna have some auditory aids for his voice and umm.. other stuff. It’s called Marigold Breach, it’s on Apple Podcast, Spotify, Realm and Youtube. (fork, I sound like an ad. Im not being paid I swear) WC: 1.6k
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Never before in the time you were intuned with the Force have you felt so lost. So… unbalanced. When normally, tasks and missions were approached in a calm and collected manner, with a clear and peaceful mind, it had since warped into frantic breathing and a thundering heart, engulfed in compromising emotions.
Every sound grated, every jolt of the ship you were flying felt like a quake and you scrambled to keep the small craft stable. You couldn't afford major turbulence, not with him in such a state.
But you went as fast as you could, desperate to get into lightspeed so that all traces of you and your passenger are gone. As far as you could, though you doubt that you would find a corner of the galaxy that could hide you both. They would find you, you know this to be fact. It would only be a matter of time.
Fear threatened to consume you and for once; you were tempted to let it. After what you have seen, after what you have discovered; the teachings of the Jedi no longer seemed as righteous as you once thought it was. You scoffed, feeling stupid. Not once did you ever question your environment or the teachings of the Masters' as you rose through the ranks, from fledgling to Padawan. You took their word as law. After all, they were the Jedi and you wanted to be just like them.
Now, the thought of the Knights you had so venerated left you angry and confused. Hypocrites; all of them. All they wanted was power. Power over the Republic. Power over the Senate. And they had the audacity to condemn those who wanted to keep power for themselves.
Screw them.
xxxx
The planet you randomly chose was amber in colour, ringed with a manageable asteroid belt.
You were never really good at landing. In your impatience, you would misjudge the thrust and would sometimes send the ship careening too fast. And it was always resulted in a bruised chest; and an even bruised ego after the lecture your Master would unleash upon you.
The thought of your Master sent a lance through your heart; but you pushed it away and fought to calm down as you attempted the landing. You had wanted to be gentle, to make it a smooth landing. You managed; barely. The moment you touched down, you were out of the pilot's seat and into the belly of the ship.
He was exactly where you left him on your cot, stomach down. Had you not been so intuned with him, had you not been able to hear his soft breaths, you could have sworn he was dead. He should have been dead.
The memory of what you witness in secret breached your mind. You remembered the shock you had to bite down, the scream you had to swallow when you witness what happened to him.
How could she do that, to her own Padawan.
Shaking your head of the dark thoughts, you pulled out the emergency kit, grabbing saline and gauze and bacta patches into your arms. On your way to him, you also grabbed an IV drip.
The smell of charred flesh turned your stomach and you swallowed to keep nausea at bay as you kneeled by his side. His tunic was in taters, pieces of the material burned and melted onto his skin. Dirt and mud slicked his back, mixing into the red exposed flesh. You choked down a sob. You whispered his name.
A soft groan reached your ears, then a gasp.
"No, no, don't move." You reached for his shoulder, grasping gently, and you could feel the muscles tightening. "Shh… I'm here. It's just me."
Recognition smoothed his features and your name escaped his lips before his eyes fluttered open. His hand lifted but before it could reach your face; his body spasmed and he cried out.
"Fuck," You moved quickly, gently peeling his ruined tunic from his body. The moment you made contact; he whimpered. His body shook with the agony and your heart broke once more. "I know… I know. I'll be quick, I promise." His back was torn violently, almost shredded, and the worst of the injury was where the wounds connect, overlapped. Burnt muscle was exposed, black and red and oozing blood. Apologies fell from your lips like a prayer, begging for forgiveness for what you are about to do. Then, you flushed a gauze pad with saline and as gently as you could, wiped down the dirt.
You worked as carefully as you could, ignoring his cries and sobs. His body tensed then shook then tensed again every time you touched him. "Almost there. I'm almost done," Your voice cracked, the efforts to hold back tears and nausea proving too much.
As the pile of soiled gauze beside you grew; the blood trickled to a stop and finally, you were able to place the bacta patch on him. "This will help, okay." You told him, but he had long since passed out. You were mostly talking to yourself. "It's going to be over soon."
Once the bacta was on, you sat back and finally let your tears fall. He was unconsciousness, but alive. Thankfully alive. Wiping your face with your sleeves, you stood up and finally initiated ground security protocols.
xxxx
Something was approaching. You looked back and all you see was darkness but you kept running.
Exhaustion weighed down on you. It had been days. Fear slithered in your chest, wrapping around your heart, constricting your lungs. Anger and shame flared inside you, threatening to consume.
A crack of lightning, and a snake lunged at you and your back seared in an unimaginable pain. White hot and blazing. You felt your flesh rip and your vision blacked out. And then, cold. Freezing cold.
You ended and you began.
xxxx
The gasp that tore through your throat hurt like a mudscuffer. You blinked, frozen for a few seconds before feeling came back into your limbs.
The thing about Force dreams was that they don't normally show you the good. Most of the time, it was almost always something dark. But a Jedi is supposed to control their emotions, to release one's self and let go. Selflessness, it was the mark of a true Jedi.
Despite you renouncing the Order, you went through the motions of calming yourself down, or reigning in your emotions.
It’s been a few days… or what felt like a few days. The planet cycle is foreign to you and you’ve essentially lost track of time.
You looked over at the other occupant of the ship and sighed heavily. He was twitching as well, in his sleep, something you were familiar with.
You walked over and gently checked on the bacta. It was one of your last supplies but at least it was working. The wound was healing. Scarred… but healing. There will be mobility issues and you doubt if he would ever get his full range of motion, much less the ability to swing a saber again. Still, you wouldn't put it past him. He is as stubborn as you are.
You remembered growing up with him, the both of you in the Academy.
He was strong. Both of you were, but unlike you, he was the nail that stuck out. Where you obeyed, and did as you were told, he questioned everything. Where you hid your true emotions, he was not afraid to let it show.
And you were glad for it. Had he not done what he had done, questioned and researched, poked and prodded, you wouldn't have seen the true face of the Jedi Order. You wouldn't have known that they were just as power-hungry and backstabbing as the rest of the pirates in the galaxy. They just covered it under the guise of the greater good.
But in the end, he was also the one who paid the price.
They did not know you stole a ship and followed them. They did not know you saw them string him up and strip him of his lightsaber.
You heard his terrified pleas but they fell on deaf ears when it came to his Master. And yours.
He was a child, barely 20 years old. You both were, but they did not see him anymore. The pupil they once treasured. In their eyes, he needed to be eradicated. Just because he wanted to draw power from a source that was forbidden to them.
The buzz of an activated saber drew your attention to the lightwhip of Master Vernestra and your eyes widened in shock. Surely, she wouldn't, you thought.
But you were wrong.
All it took was one strike and his scream would haunt your nights for a long time.
You waited until they left. You had to. And once you were sure they were no longer around, you rushed to his side. It was then you decided you were not coming back.
The sound of your name pulled you from your anger and you turned to see him watching you.
"You're causing a quake," He remarked, and the chattering of loose metal around you ceased. You took a deep breath and reigned it in.
You scooted closer to him and leaned in close. You took stock of him. He was pale but at least he was lucid. His dark brown eyes were clear, which was another good sign.
"So… the favored pupil… finally left the nest, huh? Didn't think… you had it in you."
And he was teasing you.
And it broke you. You drank him in like a person obsessed, trying to make sense of what you were feeling. Anger, fear, confusion, relief. And something else you couldn’t name. But they roiled together inside you making tears pool in your eyes and your lips wobble.
"What… What are we going to do?"
His touch on your face and your eyes closed. He was real. He was alive.
"We'll survive." He told you. "We'll survive."
FIN
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