#irresistible ff

[gunstellations]

comfy little android

[fangdokja]

Forbidden Fruits (FF) : Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

Step into a world where love is a weapon, devotion is madness, and desire knows no boundaries. Forbidden Fruits is a collection of intensely dark and unapologetically explicit stories that plunge you into the arms of your most dangerous obsessions.

Each tale invites you to surrender to the irresistible pull of yanderes from across your favorite anime, manga, manhwa, and games. They’ll devour you whole—body, mind, and soul—with a love that is as passionate as it is possessive. From bloodstained confessions to twisted vows whispered in the dark, this anthology explores every forbidden craving, every unspoken taboo, and every edge of desire.

There’s no escape. They’ll have you, ruin you, and cherish every shattered piece of you. Because in their world, you are theirs—and they will destroy anyone, even you, to keep it that way.

Forbidden Fruits is a feast for the bold, where no sin is too dark, no boundary is sacred, and the sweetest pleasures are found in the shadows.

Trigger Warnings (Dead Dove): Contains extremely dark themes, explicit non-consensual content, and depictions of taboo scenarios. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

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Table of Contents

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ ⭐. Author's Personal Favorites. ♡ 🔞. NSFW / extremely explicit themes (non-con, sexual torture, dangerous edge play, degradation, humiliation, BDSM, etc.)

♡ Schedule. The following stories are released or scheduled for release:

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General Stories

Yandere! Family & Daughter

♡ Characters Included. Yandere! Grandfather, Father, Older Brother, Twin Brother

Novella 1 : Daddy Issues

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Yandere! Fan/s & Playgirl

Novella 1 : Savage Love

🔞Savage Love 1

🔞Savage Love 2

Savage Love 3

Savage Love 4

Savage Love 5

Yandere! Older Brother & Little Sister

Novelette 1 : Sins of the Silent Heart

��You’re his sister, but to him, you’re everything he’ll never let go of.

⭐🔞He says it’s love, but the scars on your skin tell a different story.

Yandere! Serial Killer/s & Little Detective (?)

Novella 1 : Hybristophilia

⭐"The first time I touched death, I vowed it wouldn’t be the last."

🔞Hybristophilia 2

🔞Hybristophilia 3

🔞Hybristophilia 4

🔞Hybristophilia 5

Hybristophilia 6

Yandere! Stepfather & Stepdaughter

Novella 1 : Paternal Privilege

He’s your family, but he doesn’t act like it.

🔞Pleasure in every strike, pain in every kiss.

🔞In the end, love is both their salvation and their damnation.

🔞His love is suffocating, but she’s forgotten how to breathe without it.

🔞Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but he’s the only one who can save her.

She fell, but not by accident. He made sure of it.

Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse AU

Novella 1 : “If I Can’t Have You, No One Can.”

Zombie Apocalypse 1

Zombie Apocalypse 2

Zombie Apocalypse 3

Zombie Apocalypse 4

Zombie Apocalypse 5

Zombie Apocalypse 6

────────────

Specific Stories

Multiverse / Crossovers

Headcanons

Oneshots

WuWa! Scar, HXH! Hisoka!, BL! Shido

———

Mixed Character Stories

Headcanons

Deon Hardt, Villain! Deku

Novella 1 : Dominate Me, Daddy. (Brat Tamer)

🔞Will you scream? Or will you beg? (Bakugo Katsuki, Yoichi Isagi, Ryōmen Sukuna, Rex Lapis, Sunday)

Novelette 1 : Rivals (Enemies to ...?)

Alhaitham, Dr. Ratio, Mortefi, Viktor

———

Note: Before the NSFW Jealousy Headcanons Scenarios and other noncon NSFW, there will be 2 Headcanons Series (General + Jealousy) for every set of characters.

Blue Lock

Headcanons 1 : A Slave To His Will (General)

With him, there’s no ‘no’. Only ‘yes, sir’. (Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi)

Headcanons 2 : (Jealousy)

(Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Isagi Yoichi)

Boku no Hero Academia

Headcanons 1 : Ruined, Owned, Loved. (General)

You’re the light he vowed to keep, even if he has to snuff it out first. (Katsuki, Shouto, Villain! Deku, Dabi)

(Endeavor, All Might, Eraserhead, ...?)

Genshin Impact

Headcanons 2 : Heart's Chains (Jealousy)

The cage he’s built for you is so beautiful, you almost forget it’s there. (Alhaitham, Diluc, Zhongli, Dainsleif)

"You’ll love me," he whispered. "Even if it kills you." (Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya)

His affection is a slow poison—sweet, deadly, and inevitable. (Baizhu, Itto, Kazuha, Lyney)

He’ll pay any price for your love—what’s your worth? (Pantalone, Heizou, Venti, Xiao)

[Meme] "The Genshin Yandere You Picked Could Have a Lot to Say About Your… Interests" (Alhaitham, Diluc, Zhongli, Dainsleif, Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya, Baizhu, Itto, Kazuha, Lyney, Pantalone, Heizou, Venti, Xiao)

Headcanons 3 : Heart's Sins (SNAPPED! Jealous NSFW)

[Prelude] "You didn’t just break my heart; you shattered it. And now I’ll make you pay for it." (Alhaitham, Diluc, Zhongli, Dainsleif, Ayato, Childe, Scaramouche, Kaeya, Baizhu, Itto, Kazuha, Lyney, Pantalone, Heizou, Venti, Xiao)

Haikyuu!!

Headcanons 1 : General

(Atsumu Miya, Oikawa Tooru, Tetsurou Kuroo, Wakatoshi Ushijima)

Honkai Star Rail

Headcanons 1 : The Game of Surrender (General)

He doesn’t need your trust—he just needs your surrender. (Boothill, Blade, Sunday, Aventurine)

They’re not heroes. They’re your tormentors, and you’ll love every second of it. (Mr. Reca, Mydei, Anaxa, Phainon)

(Dr. Ratio, Caelus, Nanook, ...?)

Headcanons 2 : Falling Into Darkness (Jealousy)

He doesn’t love like anyone else—he loves you like you’re the last thing that matters. (Boothill, Blade, Sunday, Aventurine)

🔞Every glance you give someone is a dagger in his heart, and he's ready to make you bleed. (Mr. Reca, Mydei, Anaxa, Phainon)

Jujutsu Kaisen

Headcanons 1 : The Ruin of You (General)

He made the word “forever” sound like a death sentence. (Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Ryōmen Sukuna, Naoya Zen’in)

[Meme] 🔞You like them crazy because deep down, you are too. (Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, Kenjaku, Shiu Kong)

Headcanons 4 : Eclipse Paradiso (Otome Isekai)

In a world where love is a curse, who will you trust to keep you alive? (Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, Kenjaku, Shiu Kong)

Novella 1 : Two Birds Forever Young (Sukuna)

Two Birds Forever Young 1

Two Birds Forever Young 2

Two Birds Forever Young 3

Two Birds Forever Young 4

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang

Headcanons 1 : When Love Kills (General)

⭐️Fleeing is futile. The hunt has only just begun. (Granger, Gusion, Aamon, Xavier)

Headcanons 2 : (Jealousy)

(Granger, Gusion, Aamon, Xavier)

Wuthering Waves

Headcanons 1 : Unholy Possession (General)

⭐️He’ll destroy you—because that’s how much he loves you. (Scar, Geshu Lin, Jiyan, Xiangli Yao)

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on this post. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @belovedoftheanemoarchon , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud , @songbirdgardensworld , @monamuskay

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2 [you are here]. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

[novaursa]

can you please write something with the reader being the queen of a far away kingdom that is kinda similar to the targaryen house but instead of dragons they have elike either magic or something. and reader ends up befriending rhaenyra which has the reader being a very powerful ally and the greens notice this , with alicent still wanting to steal the throne but otto is like “…nahhhh” , so rhaenyra becomes queen with the reader there and just standing all badass and stuff kinda comedic if you can please

The Witch Queen

- Summary: You arrive from faraway land to aid Rhaenyra before her rightful claim is stolen.

- Pairing: female!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Note: This might be slightly darker than you asked for, but the spooky season vibes guided me with this one. I hope you still like it, dear anon. 🙂

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Next part: long live the queen

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The wind carried a sharp, briny scent from the sea as your ship glided through the dark waters toward the docks of King's Landing, its shadow stretching ominously beneath the moonlit sky. The black sails of your fleet billowed against the midnight horizon, a ghostly procession that had gone unnoticed until now. No banners heralded your arrival, no horns sounded from the walls of the Red Keep. The city slept in ignorance of the storm you had brought.

At your side, your court stood with heads held high, their violet eyes gleaming in the moonlight, their pale, silver-gold hair swept back in intricate braids that mirrored your own. House Tyvarella was not accustomed to formalities that belonged to lesser kings or the pious men of Westeros. You were the Queen of a realm far older than this one, a survivor of Valyria’s doom, and there was no need for permission to make yourself known.

As you stepped onto the cobblestones, the whispers from the shadows began to ripple. The common folk had heard the tales—stories of your house, the blood mages of Tyvarella, feared even by those who once tamed dragons. To those of the Faith of the Seven, you were a creature from their darkest myths, a figure woven into the very fabric of their nightmares. And now, you were here, at the heart of their crumbling kingdom.

“The night brings ill omens,” Otto Hightower muttered, his hands wringing in that nervous, meticulous way of his. He stood by a flickering torchlight, watching as your procession marched through the streets toward the Red Keep. His face was pale, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of wariness and disgust. “They come as vultures, Alicent, like specters summoned by death itself. We need to leave, now.”

Alicent Hightower, now Dowager Queen, stood by his side, her delicate fingers gripping the edges of her gown as if holding herself together. Her emerald eyes, though wary, flickered with a strange curiosity as she gazed at your retinue. “They were not expected, not invited… What are they doing here?”

“Nothing good, I assure you,” Otto responded with grim certainty. “King Viserys is dead. They arrive just as his breath fades. They bring with them blood magic and ruin. If we stay—”

A distant sound cut through the air, carried on the wind—the solemn toll of bells echoing across the city. Viserys was gone. The king had breathed his last.

Alicent's breath hitched as the realization washed over her. Her husband, the father of her children, the king, was dead. And here you stood, arriving at this precise moment, as if heralding the change to come.

But her eyes strayed, flickering toward the upper windows of the Red Keep. Through the torch-lit chambers, she caught a glimpse of another figure—Rhaenyra. The Princess had been kept behind, confined within the castle after that last bitter feast Viserys had demanded, the one after Vaemond Velaryon met his end.

Rhaenyra stood by the window now, her gaze drawn irresistibly to you. Alicent noticed it in an instant, the way her rival, her stepdaughter, leaned closer to the glass, watching your every movement with a deep, unspoken longing. Rhaenyra’s eyes were fixed on you, even from this distance, her expression one of unmistakable hunger and fascination.

“Do you see that?” Alicent whispered, her voice tight. “She… she looks at her.”

Otto followed her gaze, his lips tightening. “Rhaenyra’s drawn to power,” he said dismissively, though a hint of concern tugged at his tone. “It’s in her blood. But this... this is different. Tyvarella’s magic is ancient, forbidden. If she aligns herself with them, it will be disastrous.”

Alicent felt a wave of unease roll through her, but before she could respond, the heavy gates of the Red Keep groaned open, and you stepped inside. The room fell into a hush, as if the very stones of the castle were holding their breath. You entered without ceremony, your violet eyes scanning the gathering of lords and courtiers, none of whom dared meet your gaze directly.

And then, you saw her.

Rhaenyra.

She descended the grand staircase, her silken black gown flowing behind her like the wings of a raven. Her silver hair glowed in the candlelight, and her lips were parted ever so slightly, as if tasting the air between you. The tension in the room coiled tight, palpable.

When your eyes met hers, the world seemed to fall away.

You had seen her before, of course. But this… this was different. Here, in this moment of death and turmoil, the connection between you felt like a thread of fire, burning through the distance between you both. Her breath hitched as she came to stand before you, her gaze never leaving yours.

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra whispered, her voice soft yet carrying a weight that pulled at something deep inside of you. “You came.”

“I did,” you replied, your voice steady, though the sight of her stirred something untamed within you. “I came as soon as I sensed it. Viserys is gone, and now… the realm will fall to chaos.”

Her lips tightened into a thin line, pain flashing in her eyes at the mention of her father, but she didn’t look away. “They’ll come for me. For my children.”

“And they’ll have to go through me first.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes darkened at your words, the weight of your promise settling over her like a shield. Her hand, pale and trembling, reached out ever so slightly, as if testing the waters between you. And then, without another word, she placed it in yours.

A murmur spread through the room. Alicent stiffened where she stood, her face pale as the dawn.

Otto watched in silence, his mind already racing, already calculating. He knew what this meant. He knew that your presence here was more than a disruption. It was a declaration.

“We should have left when we had the chance,” he muttered, just loud enough for Alicent to hear. “Now it’s too late.”

Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, her fingers warm despite the cool air. “Will you stay?”

Your lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “For as long as you need me.”

[forthelostones]

𝚙𝚝.𝚜𝚒𝚡 ; 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 ─── ⋆

⟡⋆˙୨ᥫ᭡. 𝚗𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚞 - 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ᥫ᭡.୧⋆˙⟡

synopsis: abby was a woman whose presence was becoming deeply irresistible to you. in your final year of nursing school, you toil with the idea of pursuing her — ruin what you have or enjoy what’s in front of you?

warnings. 18+ (mdni); sub!abby, domsub!abby, sexual themes, jealousy, spitting, strap-on, hate sex/makeup sex, nickname: dummy, and modern au - pre-established relation.

an: hi everyone, i appreciate you all sooo soo much. happy friday... it's getting real this entire ff is on ao3 as well x

(no y/n)

wc: 3.4k

Abby heard your door close, knowing it was time for you to leave for your flight. She froze as if you didn’t know she was in her living room listening to every move you made on the other side of the wall. Your footsteps traveled to be placed silently in front of her door and halted just as you knocked. “Abigail?” 

She concentrated on the purr of your voice vibrating against the wooden door. 

“Abby, I’m leaving, um, you probably are sleeping or — I don’t know, anyways, I left you some stuff so you could feel less alone while I’m gone. Um, it’s stuff I think you'd like. I know it’s not going to solve anything but let’s talk soon. Please.” 

You wait for the knob to turn, for the door to open and reveal the stubborn woman, anything, but it never happens. On the other side, Abby was standing with her hand on the door frame, absorbing your voice into her consciousness, missing you more than ever. She so badly wanted to open it and hold you, and assure you she was just being stupid, but she wasn’t ready for it. 

She waited a few minutes before opening the door to reveal a small tote bag heavy with glass. Abby wrapped her hand around the handle and peered out the door as if she would find you in the hallway, waiting for her. The bag was filled with an assortment of miss-match containers, housing different food items with post-its describing each one. Turkey, Mac and Cheese, Stuffing, Brussels sprouts, and Cranberry Sauce. She traced the delicate intricacies of your handwriting that she had seen many times before, but especially now seemed special. She removed the sticky paper and placed it on her dining table, placing the corresponding container above it.

In the following days Abby received every text message you sent her, she simply didn’t care to read them beyond the notification on her screen. Her anger boiled more and more, irritated at your persistence while simultaneously needing it as reassurance that you still care. 

abby, i’m sorry. let’s talk, call me please. 

hey, getting on the plane now so i can’t talk for the next two hours. 

just landed, i can call soon if that’s what you want.

all ready for bed. 

Attached was a photo she felt tempted to look at but didn’t. Her phone rang multiple times throughout the day with your name on the caller ID. She didn’t feel compelled to decline it, she let it ring until the ringtone stopped. She did exactly what she said she was going to do — study. She knew it was the one thing she could wholeheartedly commit to now. 

In the middle of studying her phone rang over five times and one notification for a voicemail appeared on the screen. She looked at your name on her phone, held a deep breath in her chest, and listened to a voice softened by tears. 

“Abby, hi. Just thinking about you and I know I’m the last person you want to hear from,” You paused. “I want us to talk. I just… I miss you.” 

Abby stopped the message and set her study materials aside, quickly pressing play again. “I miss you. I wish we were together right now. I’m going to make this right, I promise. Please, just give me some time.” 

Abby brought her fist up to her dripping nose and tightened her mouth into a thin line. The feelings that she had for you were inescapable. Her heart collapsed in her ribcage, smashing against the paper bones that felt like they were cracking as she dabbed the tears floating in her eyes. She went to all the unread messages and saw the photo of you lying in your childhood bedroom with an all-white long john set and a modest smile on your face. Your eyes were puffy, or was she imagining it? She wanted you to break apart like she was. Abby observed your grin, that revealed a more narrow sadness that she could place on her own mouth. 

We can talk when you return. 

You shuffle down the familiar hallway, bags in hand, trembling with uncertainty you quickly identified as a fear of losing Abby. Your flight left you disheveled and bubbled with anxiety, making you stop in the bathroom before calling an uber, and polishing yourself up. But no time in the bathroom could remove the dark circles under your eyes or take away the sadness you harbored.  You were fearful that if you waited a moment longer she’d forget about you — so you held your duffle and carry on, hastily knocking at a door that was once always unlocked for you. 

Abby pulled on the handle revealing her pristine appearance. Blonde hair tied into a braid, attached to the middle of her head, cascading down her spine. Her lips were moisturized, plush, pink, and waiting to be kissed. She clasped her hands in one another, arms bulging out of her black tank top clinging to her even skin. As a formality, she gestured for you to sit down as she took your bags effortlessly. After setting them down on the table she joined you on the couch, legs crossed in thick grey sweats. 

“I missed you.” You admit, inching closer to her. 

“I did too. I missed you too.” She said shyly, slightly shrugging. 

You walk your fingers to her knee and rest them there, embarrassed. 

“So, I’m sorry Abby—” 

“No, all of this is my fault. I was tipsy and out of line, I misconstrued your feelings for me. I shouldn’t have pressured you to just get rid of Ellie. Instead, I should have explained to you how much I really like you. And maybe my inexperience just made me want you even more… Like, I can’t do casual, or I mean I never had the opportunity to. I just… I wanted more with you — I want more with you. I don't wanna share you.” She ropes her pinky into yours. 

“My sweet Abby,” You sigh, cupping her jaw. “I should have paid more attention.” 

“I think I could have been more clear on what I wanted out of you, y’know out of us.” 

“I like you Abby and a part of me likes Ellie too. She’s fun and that was my appeal to her, knowing I didn’t have to get roped into something complex or serious. But I like you…so much, you’re all I could think about when I was away. I’m not used to anyone wanting me this way.” 

“I want you. I only want you.” She smiled. 

“You do?” 

“So much, I want you to be my girlfriend, seriously. Do you want that?” 

You freeze at the question, making Abby recede into herself briefly, face dropping into a premature frown.

“I don’t know how good of a girlfriend I could be to you. I don’t want to make you feel how I did that past week.” She leans closer and kisses the backside of your hand. 

“That’s inevitable, we will have times where things go the opposite of what we want, that’s okay but we need to be on the same page. Do you want this?” 

You feel a rock drop to the bottom of your stomach. 

“Abby I don’t know if I can fully say that I want that in this moment. Can I think about it?” 

“Of course you can.” 

She leaned in, using your thighs for leverage, resting her lips against yours. You melt into her sweet, strawberry-glazed lips, relishing her taste. Being away from her made a week feel like a year and you savored this kiss intending to remember it for later. Your hands come up to her neck and pull her in, pushing your tongue past her teeth and into her mouth, eliciting a moan. It was deep and from her core, exposing how much she missed you. She presses her hand on the back of the couch, the other one behind you on the arm, unfolding her legs and laying on top of you. She lifted her far leg so that it was hanging off the edge of the couch, crotch pressed against the top of your thigh, her body weight crushing you sweetly. 

Abby’s hand comes up the side of your ribs making you shutter. Her rough fingertips leave pale imprints on your warm skin. You lift your hips into her core and she moans into your left ear. A sweet blow of air and arousal fills your space causing the parting of your lips to replicate the pleasure. “I missed this.” Her raspy voice rang. 

You reach in the band of her sweats and brush her abdomen towards her clit. No panties. Her thighs were damp with sweat, her lips wet with slick and you wasted no time parting them. Abby wrapped a fistful of your hair into her hand and tugged, leaving your mouth agape from the sudden aggression. 

“Fuck me.” She demanded. 

You feel your pussy clench. Abby's change in demeanor put a bit of fear in you, knowing the woman was strong enough to have her way with you at any moment. 

“Come on. Fuck me.” 

Her hand unravels from your hair to your jaw to open your mouth. Her lips purse to expel a string of spit which you accept happily. Her lips were sloppy, smacking into yours as she stroked her clit against your fingers, hunching for more contact. You lifted her shirt up to reveal a light pink lace bralette, exposing her erect nipples. You bring your lips to the fabric, and she trembles. She removes the lace top and forces the stiff bud between your teeth, making her wince as you lean back, biting and stretching it. Her pussy left tacky, wet splotches in her pants.

“Let me get my strap.” She said, moving away quickly. You watch her firm ass switch from side to side while she marches to her bedroom. You sit up, mouth wet with desire, not hesitating to remove your bottoms.

The black harness houses a clear dildo that curved upwards, just how Abby liked it, reaching for her g-spot. She handed it over to you to strap on and laid back on the couch. Her eyes became hungry as she saw your perfect body displaying the new appendage. You walk towards her dripping with irrefutable sexual appeal before ripping off her bottoms and beginning to finger her pussy. 

“Don’t tease me. I’m already wet.” 

You climb on the couch, slipping the curved cock inside, splaying your body weight on top of her. Her skin blushed as she cupped the back of your ass, reaching to bring you closer. Her cunt filled the room with obscene sounds that made yours shake with anticipation.

“Please.” She repeated. 

“Please what?” You asked, catching her off guard amid moans.

“Make me cum.” 

Abby’s groomed fingernails dragged along the outer rim of your back. She started raising her hips and fucking against you, her grip became deadly, indicating she was close to cumming. Abby loved the sounds of your grunts in her ear, knowing the strap was bruising your clit, making you needy too. Abby’s eyes retreated into her skull but returned quickly to your sightline as you extract the cock from her cunt. The clear plastic became covered with opaque gloss, leaving Abby twitching and kneeling over. 

“Fuck you.” She laughed, short-winded. 

The strong woman laid on her stomach and began arching her back. Her smooth, florescent skin wrapped around each muscle beautifully. You rub her ass, starting from the midpoint of her back to the underside of her bottom. Abby whimpered at your gentleness only to be startled by an impulsive slap, instantly turning her pink. Your finger hovers over her lips, spreading them open like petals of a soft rose, examining how perfect her pussy is while it’s dripping.

“You really missed me huh?” 

“I did. I missed you sooo much.” She whined, completely transforming unsuspectingly submissive. You reach under her and thump her clit with your palm to which she yelps. She stretches like a kitten and curves her back even more. Another slap and she throws her head over the arm of the couch where she begins to reside at. 

Without warning you plunge your index and ring finger inside of her making your name spill out of her mouth. You curve your fingers to hook behind her pelvic bone, petting the sweet sponge inside of her. All you could think about was how she embarrassed you, ignored you until the last minute, and left your mind wondering. This motivated you to fuck her even harder, and you started to believe this is what Abby wanted all along. 

“I can—can’t take it, ple—” She struggled to form a coherent sentence. 

She reached her hand back to stop you from going any deeper. You snatched her thick wrist into your hand and pinned it onto her lower back. You positioned your leg on the cushion and slipped the dildo into her. Abby never felt so overwhelmed with pleasure. The constraints you put on her made her mentally weak, leaving her immobilized. The pain made her numb and left her humming uncontrollably. You weren’t even stroking her pussy but pounding it until the skin impacted by the strap transformed from peach to lilac. Abby’s mouth was wide open, gasping for air as a knot tied itself in her stomach. 

“Let—le— l—me, cum, I—”  

The blabbering woman stiffened as an orgasm came over her body. But that didn’t stop you from milking her cunt into overdrive. She hoisted herself up on the arm, but you refused to let her run away. Your hands came to her hips and brought her to her breaking point, again. Your name filled her cozy apartment like sweet music. You pull out, leaving her gaping and dripping, leaving a delicious view. Exhausted, you fall back on the other end of the couch. Abby rolls over, legs agape, head thrown back, chest rising and falling quickly. Her cunt was bright red and abused, just like she deserved. 

“Satisfied?” You spit. 

She lifts her head, hair disheveled, and smiles at you with a sinister grin. 

“I didn’t know I could cum that many times,” She admits. 

Her eyes darted to the cock still strapped on your hips, covered in her cum. She bent over and placed her head on your thigh, parallel to the dildo. You brush her messy hair out of her face just before she wraps her lips around it and sucks it clean. You didn’t know how attractive it could be to see her in this way, with her eyes locking into yours, moaning at her own actions, making your cunt wetter. 

“Let’s have a shower.” She offered. 

The water ran warm onto your neck and lower body as Abby’s tongue traced circles into your neck. Her wide hands wrapped around your wet waist, desperate for more of you. 

“I missed you even though…” She began to whisper. 

“Even though?” 

“You pissed me off, and made me emotional.” 

She pulls away from your ear and brushes the tip of her nose against your cheek with her tongue following shortly behind, melting into a kiss. 

“I know, you’re my needy, emotional girl.” 

You slick her drenched hair back and thumb her forehead. Her body comes forward to smash you against the cold tile with a thud. She slides her hand over your belly to your throbbing clit. “For a minute, I actually hated you. I wanted to rip you apart.” She groaned. 

“Here’s your opportunity, Abigail.” 

Abby wraps your leg around her waist to get a better angle. She hovers her lips over your mouth, teasing you as you close your eyes to lean in for a kiss. She giggles at how ridiculous you look. Then, she presses her teeth into your skin, followed by soothing kisses down to your breast. She puckers her lips around your areola, with her eyes gazing up at you, filled with fury. Just as she’s about to stick her tongue out, her fingers replace her mouth and tug on the puffy buds. You press your back deeper into the tiles as if you could sink into them. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” You wince while her fingers hold onto your pebbled nipples. 

“After you sent that photo, you touched yourself didn’t you?” She jerks your nipples. 

“Ah—ah, I— I did before I took it.” 

“What did you think of?” She asked. 

“You, I thought of you,” you replied. 

Her tongue slithered out of her mouth to flick your nipple. “Keep going.” 

“You… you were kissing me, all… over…” 

“Hmmm.” Her lips puckered and suctioned. 

“I just. I, Abby,” you moaned.

“If you stop, I stop.” 

“You were kissing me w—with my hands tied… tied up,” 

She moved to your other breast and sucked, causing your hole to clench around nothingness. 

“Abby, I imagined you fucking me until my legs went limp.” 

She smiled and brought herself back to your lips, kissing and biting them with no care. 

“Even at odds, I’m still on your mind.” 

She inserts her fingers into you slowly, stretching you out. You grip onto her shoulders for stability as she begins to pump in and out of you. She spreads her legs to ground herself and thrusts her fingers deeper inside of you, pounding the fat of your pussy, creating a slapping noise in rhythm with the beating shower. 

Abby bared her teeth as she increased her speed. She was grunting like she was in the gym doing a challenging set, mumbling words you were too sexually drunk to decipher. The water fizzled into a heavy steam, crashing into your wrinkled skin and creating a thick haze above your head. The humidity left you faint as Abby worked harder to make you cum with no comfort — all in her timing. Suddenly, she let go of the leg she had been hoisting up and wrapped her hand around your throat. Your moans became light and airy as you gasped for relief. 

“You’re mine. You know that right?” She declared. 

You nodded as you came up on the wave of sexual bliss. Your knees fell together, weakening as the woman continued to cockily spit at you, a side of her you never knew before. 

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. I don’t give a fuck, no one else will ever make you cum like this.” 

And that’s what you did, cum, with a deep primal groan accompanying it. She continued to stroke your pussy, until you caught your breath, just before she fell to her knees in the tub to lick up the mess she created. The curve in the bridge of her nose made a unique friction against your sensitive clit while her tongue slid up and down your folds. You turned the water off, and the both of you ran to the bedroom before the cool air caught up to you.

Abby dried her body and hair with a nearby towel and passed one to you. She flopped onto her mattress, with her head wet onto her jersey pillowcase awaiting your body. 

“Are you still mad at me?” You ask. 

“Nothing a little cuddling could fix. Come ‘ere.” She said. 

You straddled her waist to lay down on her soft, hot body and tucked your mouth into the crook of her neck. Abby placed her hand on the back of your neck and smoothed out your baby hairs there. She adjusted her body underneath you, unintentionally pressing her mound into yours, extracting a slight gasp from your throat. 

“You okay?” She asks. 

“Yes.” You mutter. She lifts upwards again, spreading your legs apart and exposing your clit. You look at her sly grin, she mimics you and spreads her legs open as well. You lay down onto her shoulder, breath hitting her neck, and buck your hips into her, your clit being tickled by the blonde’s low-trimmed pussy. You two perform a dance, following an unspoken choreography, pressing your cunts into each other. 

“I need you.” Abby moans. 

You guide Abby’s knees to her chest and turn so your ass is in her view, straddling her leg, spreading your slits open with your fingers, and placing your cunt onto hers — hot and needy. The wave of your ass brushing against her pussy made her mouth fall open in disbelief. Abby tucks her hands behind her head as she watches you use her pussy like a pillow and hump it freely just as she likes it. 

“Fuck, Abby.” 

Abby blushed at your words, watching your hips move like water, eyes closed and getting lost in the pleasure. 

[kyonkyon69]

DRAMIONE FANFICS

[AO3/FANFICTION.NET/TUMBLR]

[BIG 3]

[1]Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love

[2]His Little Bird Series by TheWanderersWanderingDaughter

[3]MANACLED by Senlinyu

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

>TheWanderersWanderingDaughter AO3 fics

>Senlinyu AO3 fics

>On the Nature of Daylight by ikorous

>& Obey, Till Death Do Us Part by LongtimeLurker1111

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>Dramione fics [GOOGLE DRIVE]

>Dramione fics [GOOGLE DRIVE] Part.2

>The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy Series by speechwriter

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>The Gloriana Set by ThebeMoon

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>Confessions Series by SaintDionysus

>Enemies with Benefits by DrusillaMaxima

>Wait and Hope Series by mightbewriting

>Aurelian by BittyBlueEyes

>We Learned the Sea by floorcoaster

>How to Win Friends and Influence People by olivieblake

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ONESHOTS

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[make1wish]

sequal of Sylus: Crimson Curse

Dragon Sylus x Fem! Reader

TW: noncon, NSFW🔞

Setting: In this setting, I ( a female ) was condamned as witch by the masses and sentenced to death. To survive, I use the forbidden spell to release Sylus, the dragon that has been caged for a thousand years.

The pyre beneath the stake had been lit, smoke beginning to rise. Bound to the post, I listened to the angry crowd shouting "burn the witch." Just as the flames were about to consume me, I uttered the forbidden spell, opening the cave that had been sealed for a thousand years.

A thunderous dragon's roar shook the heavens, and a massive shadow engulfed the square. The crowd screamed and scattered as a red and black figure descended from the sky. It was Sylus, the legendary last dragon. His horns gleamed coldly in the sunlight, the ruby on his chest radiating a dangerous crimson glow.

He effortlessly tore away the ropes binding me and pulled me into his embrace. I could feel his hard scales pressing against my skin with an irresistible force. Before I could gather my thoughts, he spread his wings and soared into the clouds.

Sylus's lair was deep within the mountains. The cave's interior was far more luxurious than imagined, sparkling with gems everywhere. Piles of gold and jewels were heaped in corners, while a soft silk bed lay at the center. He placed me on the bed, looking down at me dominantly.

"You saved me," I said softly, only to see a meaningful smile curve his lips.

"No, little witch," his voice was deep and magnetic, "you saved me, so you must pay the price." His dragon tail slowly rose, its tip gently tracing my cheek, sending shivers through me. I instinctively tried to retreat but found myself enveloped in his aura.

Deep in the cave, days passed quietly yet oppressively. I could feel Sylus's golden eyes constantly following my every move, as if watching a precious collection. I began to notice that this powerful dragon always revealed an unmistakable loneliness when alone.

During one dinner, Sylus unusually initiated conversation. "You know, hundreds and thousands of dragons once inhabited this continent," his voice was deep and distant, "now I'm the only one left." I put down my silver cutlery, gazing at the flickering light in his eyes that held so many untold stories.

In the dead of night, I quietly slipped out of my room. By the faint firelight, I made my way to Sylus's weapon collection chamber. Various swords hung neatly on the walls, gleaming coldly in the dim light. My attention was drawn to an ornately decorated dagger, said to be an ancient elven artifact capable of penetrating dragon scales.

My daytime observations revealed that Sylus would take a brief nap every afternoon. This habit seemed like a fatal weakness, yet it filled my heart with conflict. That afternoon, as I stood before the sleeping dragon holding the dagger, moonlight filtered through the cave ceiling's cracks, casting a dreamlike shimmer on his scales.

Just as I raised the dagger, Sylus suddenly opened his eyes. His golden pupils reflected my startled face. "So you chose betrayal after all." His voice carried an indescribable disappointment. My hand trembled slightly, but I maintained my grip on the dagger. Sylus slowly rose, his massive form looming over me, yet showing no sign of aggression.

"Why don't you just kill me?" I suppressed my fear, meeting his gaze directly. After a long silence, Sylus finally spoke: "Perhaps because I haven't seen such defiant eyes in so long." His tail swept gently across the ground, stirring up dust. "You remind me of many past memories."

My grip on the dagger tightened, knuckles turning white. Sylus turned toward the depths of the cave, leaving behind a meaningful message: "You know, this dagger can indeed harm me, but its greater value lies in its ability to break dragon curses." His words hung in the air as his figure disappeared into the darkness. I stared at the gleaming dagger in my hand, my mind flooding with even more questions.

Sylus's tail tightly coiled around my slender waist, his rough scales rubbing against my delicate skin. His deep voice resonated by my ear: "Trying to escape?", his hot breath washing over my sensitive earlobe. I trembled involuntarily, feeling his dominant control.

Sylus's claws gently traced along my neck, sharp nails leaving faint red marks on my fair skin. He leaned down, his hot breath brushing over my collarbone, his rough tongue lightly licking the delicate skin there. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan, my body becoming increasingly sensitive under his teasing.

The dragon tail slowly tightened, forcing my body closer to his. Sylus's palm caressed my waistline, feeling my body trembling slightly from nervousness. His lips gently nibbled my earlobe, his tongue teasingly tracing the shape of my ear. My breathing became rapid, my hands unconsciously gripping the sheets beneath me.

Sylus's other hand slipped inside my clothes, his rough palm caressing my soft abdomen. His movements were both dominant and gentle, carrying an irresistible possessiveness. My body grew increasingly hot under his caresses, waves of tingling pleasure surging from deep in my lower abdomen.

His kisses gradually moved downward, leaving a trail of moist marks along my neck. His dragon fangs lightly scraped against my skin, bringing both slight pain and indescribable pleasure. My breathing became more rapid, my body unconsciously drawing closer to him, craving more contact.

Sylus's hand wandered up along my waistline, feeling the smoothness of my skin. His tail slowly rubbed against my inner thighs, the sensation of scales making me tremble involuntarily. My fingers tangled in his hair, alternately tightening and relaxing with his movements.

My body trembled under his caress, sensitive peaks being kneaded by his fingers, waves of tingling pleasure making me moan sweetly. His tail coiled around my inner thighs, the tip lightly brushing my most sensitive spot, making my whole body shiver.

"Ah... no... not there... too sensitive..." I twisted my body trying to escape, but his tail only wrapped tighter. His fingers circled my peaks, sometimes gentle, sometimes firm, making me pant continuously.

"Your body is quite honest..." his deep voice sounded by my ear, hot breath hitting my earlobe. His other hand slid down my waist, drawing circles on my lower abdomen.

"No... don't..." my voice carried traces of crying, but my body honestly welcomed his caresses. His fingers finally reached my most private place, already wet and dripping.

"So wet already..." his fingers gently teased my bud, making my whole body tremble. His tail also restlessly roamed my inner thighs, occasionally brushing against my sensitive spots.

"Ah... too... too intense..." my moans grew louder, my body becoming more sensitive. His fingers circled my entrance, sometimes inserting shallowly, sometimes withdrawing, torturing me to ecstasy.

"Please... give me..." I finally begged, tears welling in my eyes. He chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss my lips while simultaneously plunging his fingers deep inside me.

"Ah!" my moans were muffled by his kiss, only able to make unclear whimpers. His fingers thrust inside me, each time accurately hitting my sensitive spot.

( Craving for more? Let’s go to Wattpad! Hope you guys like it :-3)

[yutasbimil]

A Step Ahead

slytherin!jaemin x fem!hufflepuff!reader x gryffindor!beomgyu | txt ft. nct dream ff. ✦ (2/8) [series fic] !!! also posted on my ao3 acc! { here } tags: fluff, smut cw: tutoring, teasing, crushes, confessions, tension, love triangle, hurt-comfort, FLUFF!!! ! not that comfy w/ 2nd POV, but hope 3rd POV is good for y'all ♡ word count: 3.7k

part 1 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

do not repost © yutasbimil (2024)

Yumi hates to admit it, but Beomgyu was right all along. And... It's on her end that she made some extra effort to do her own "homework" to get to know Na Jaemin more. She's intrigued, given his pleasant personality and a much different treatment from the boys she's used to? Who wouldn't like this type of princess treatment?

To be fair, this isn't out of the ordinary as this still sticks to their usual hangouts. And that isn't shameful of an excuse, right?

Hitting two stones with one bird... wait, eh?... what? Her head is spinning. Maybe with information overload.

It’s just so hard to focus on being in an abandoned classroom, alone with a cute guy with such a cute smile, so darn cute— and did she already say that he’s cute?

And to be alone in a room with just the two of you…

Damn, his lips… it’s so darn distracting, how does it taste?

Jaemin might be speaking in spiels of knowledge, finalizing their agendas, but for once Yumi wants to hear him ‘shut up’, how about I do something about it?

‘Distracted’ is painted all over her eyes that Yumi’s mind wandered elsewhere.

Time to test a hypothesis—

Before Yumi knows it, soft lips are plunged against hers, and she, therefore, concludes his lips are soft as pillows as expected.

The small breath hitch from Jaemin’s breath smelled hints of cinnamon, a kick of spice just enough for her…

She had to abort the experiment too soon, as she might’ve, for the lack of a better word, fucked up—

Both of them stared at each other in shock.

“Sorry, it's… uhm…” Yumi had caught herself red-handed, staring at Jaemin. Their hands are on anything but their supposed homework. At least it’s done though… but now, they have another… peculiar situation at hand.

Jaemin just softly laughs, looking at her endearingly.

“Potions really is that stressful for you, huh?” his husky voice swept her awake. He places a quick peck on her lips again with the same smile on his face. “Does this help you though? I have no problems if it does ease you though.”

She looks at him, eyes wide.

Jaemin grins at her cute reaction, how is it that Yumi is the one shocked after her ‘attempt’?

This made her flush red. It is not just their Potions book that is inked crimson.

Her flurry of words flew out of her lips as she began to feel agitated. “I was just distracted but yeah… I can't quite put it into words, b-but don't get me wrong, I wanted to get close to you as you're great as a friend… but I also find you cute.”

“Cute? Me?” Jaemin beams and puts his hands on his cheeks. “Well, if that's how it is, that's easy enough for me.”

Yumi chuckles at this, it’s so easy for Jaemin to make her feel comfortable. He's so playful… She cups both his cheeks and squeezes them.

He had been holding back to shut her up with a kiss. Yumi, on the other hand, let herself get ahead with her cute aggression.

The difference between his cuteness and sexiness. She’s living for it.

She gulped just how gorgeous he looks. Has she always seen him this way? Or is she caught by the way his lips taste?

What exactly happened?

She doesn’t know exactly how it went up to this, she knows the steps of making the Draught of the Living Death better as she went on, somersaulted and stumbled to kiss him.

She blames the hormones, but… he’s so irresistible.

Maybe, is it because she got a glimpse of a new face? Well, she isn’t blind, of course, she can tell that her friends are attractive. Taehyun being one of their heartthrob— but that’s beside the point. Yumi just got so used to Kai and the gang so much that she didn’t know that there were attraction and feelings possible beyond being with the boys.

And Jaemin made his way to present himself as a ball of sunshine and such a sweet eye candy.

At most Jaemin just makes her laugh, and how he blabbers so much with his books… nothing sweeps her off her feet than a brainiac. Add to his athletic side as a Quidditch player… Someone to match her wits and excel at fields she adores?

Man, she was missing out. Good thing she went out of her way to explore more. Who knew the Slytherins could have so much to offer?

But this— this is another side she's yet to unlock. She's intrigued to navigate through his pages. This is the first venture she’ll journey into intimacy and her exploration.

Curse the raging hormones.

She weakens at the sound of his voice. That low chuckle of his… damn.

Yumi didn’t notice that she had been staring at him for too long.

“The moe gap though,” she giggles. “You're such a good kisser.”

“Hmmm? Do you have any basis beforehand though?” He perks up a brow. “What makes a good kisser then, Yumi?”

Did she just say that out loud? Fuck it.

“No, it's just… I have no prior experience… but you make me feel good about myself. That's enough of a basis, right?”

“Hah… cutie, you'll have a hard time then as your standards would be high after experiencing mine.” The confidence in his voice is so endearing, sly to say it shamelessly for the pun. “Others would have a hard time competing. But… news flash though, you took away my first kiss.”

In thoughts that he seems experienced with dating, it’s not impossible that he hasn’t had a girlfriend before, right? Bloody hell?

“Sorry, oh my—"

“Haven’t you caught on that I am not accepting your apologies at all? I’m fine with it since it’s you, Yumi. I was saving my first for you… Also, I leaned in and kissed back, didn't I? So you had my consent to go do it.” He assured and the glimmer in his eyes along the tender stroking of his finger on her hand can make one melt. Especially his next words… “I liked you since that one Quidditch game. Then the heavens just sent me a blessing fulfilling my wish when joint classes happened. I like you, Lee Yumi.”

For a confession to occur just after a kiss? Just how overwhelming of a situation did you get yourself into, Yumi?

“I'm at a loss for words here… sorry.” She frowns but she looks deeply into him, like a lost puppy, she pouts. “All I know is I liked kissing you.”

“No worries, Yumi. Just let your body feel on this one, see where this goes, hmmm?”

“Well, with what you just said with that kiss…” At that response, as if a bell sparking an interest in the Slytherin, he fully focuses on her as she continues. She licks her lips, staring deeply back at him. “How about, you let me experience it more to let me get the feel of it, then we'll see? How much of a good kisser you proclaim yourself to be, Na Jaemin?”

With the widening smile of Jaemin, he’s loving how she’s putting things into play. As he lowers his head, nearer her face, the Slytherin boy can’t help but give in to her wish.

“I’m betting I’ll get E’s on this right after, baby.”

“Baby? Hmmm…” Yumi didn't have any time to think it through, receiving his kisses. One, two… she melts further into the soft lips of his, as if fighting for territory. I want to be his.

The feeling of their lips colliding can be compared to confetti exploding along with a thousand butterflies all over. It’s colorful, it’s vibrant, and the warmth it gives— No wonder people hold onto their chests when they kiss someone. And sharing it with such a handsome lad, his cunningness really lured her well. She does not regret any of this at all. Yumi wants to grab hold of his chest to tap in if he has the same pounding feeling with his.

Yumi holds onto his shoulders, a bit broader and leaner than expected under all that coat and uniform. She feels a bit of a smirk in his kisses, Jaemin grabs hold at the side of her neck, and she shudders at his touch. But she didn’t mind at all how he was enclosing the space between them further.

Jaemin licked her bottom lip which elicited a strained moan out of her lips.

Good Merlin, he did not disappoint at all.

She’s giving in further to his warmth, just letting her body flow along his, as he stated.

The more that they kiss, softer and harder all the same, moans attempt to slip out on how good his lips are moving against hers. Is it the soft lips of his adding to this factor? Jaemin tastes so sweet. It’s just like marshmallows… Damn it.

She momentarily pulls away to give herself some space to breathe. Yumi touches his lips, Squishy, poking his lips lightly.

Jaemin leans in at her finger, pursing his plump lips as if to make it “bounce” with her fingers. No matter how cute and bubbly he looks right now… Opposite are its effects on Yumi, she’s feeling hot and bothered. All the more when he pulls her arm against his, torso to torso close when he kisses her again.

Jaemin touches the side of her face, cupping it as he strokes her blazed cheeks.

He smiles, both their lips already swollen from kissing too much. The Slytherin smiled at his work, and the Hufflepuff girl couldn’t help but giggle looking back at him at how red both his ears are.

Yumi felt some tight rope around her, it wasn’t too soon when she realized it was located in between the crevices of her skirt that she was heated for any friction down there.

“Can I touch you?” Jaemin breathes out, and as if that permission came in at the right moment for Yumi.

She didn’t answer verbally, just nodding whilst getting his hand and putting it on her waist, granting some implications to go lower— or just anywhere for that matter. His touch is all that matters.

But important things first.

“Are you sure it’s safe here?” Her eyes wandered, at the windows and the doors. He follows the Hufflepuff’s line of sight. So she’s cautious of people coming in and out or might pass by?

Jaemin nods, assuring her. “This is abandoned after all,” he flicks his wand, checking his spell if it’s still activated. “And you know the spell I usually do for privacy and less distraction, right? It works for not just focusing solely on studying.”

“You got everything planned out, huh?”

He smugly nods, pocketing his wand. “Anything for focusing, and for focusing on you, Yumi.”

She felt safe at that, stepping closer to him again. His hands roamed all over, reaching for her legs. She shudders and almost weakens at how he’s caressing her leg.

Expected something else like a grab by the hips, or anything like the romance novels she slips into her luggage.

Jaemin brings more unexpected matters for her to discover.

“Ha… wha… ah…” She weakens instantly as Jaemin leans his lips on the side of her face, and he keeps getting closer to her earlobe.

W-what the hell was that, but shit…

He’s biting her ear.

Yumi grabs hold of the table behind her. “Oh…”

She almost inhales every possible air at their proximity as Jaemin starts nibbling her earlobes. It’s a new sensation, but the effect on her, it’s just starting a new awakening in her.

“Jae… why the ears,” she struggled to keep her words coherent and continuous. Jaemin just kept grazing his lips on her earlobes, his breathing gradually getting hotter near her. Her legs buckled as her body leaned back to the table behind them.

“It’s sensitive, hmmm? I’m letting you get the feel of it, or you don’t like it?” Jaemin hovers over her, caging her in between his arms. His hand is over hers, while the other holds onto her neck to keep her still.

She grabs hold of his shoulder as he bites her ear again.

Yumi sucked in a breath. “N-not that, I, It's not that I don’t like it, it’s just ha- weird. Hmmm-haah.. pmh-ahh, this is new, Jaemin…”

The sleeve of Jaemin fell off his one shoulder, it signaled him to finally take it off. It allowed him to move freely and feel less cramped.

He kicks it to the side then leans dangerously close to Yumi.

She crumples the fabric of his polo shirt, it signals him to go on, licking her ear still as she responds with spews of vowels more as he stimulates her further.

“Ha- I didn’t know ears are this sensitive…” She weakens more as he breathes out an airy laugh, sprouting goosebumps on her skin.

“The more you know, Yumi.” He smiles, kissing her cheek then going back to tease and play his lips on her ears.

He uses his other hand to pinch her other ear, adding to the frailing effect it has on her.

She whimpers, suppressing a moan as he nibbles and licks her. Yumi blushed crimson as she slipped up.

“So that’s what sounds those pretty lips could produce?” he rasps.

“Je-Jaem…” Her eyes darkened in arousal at this point.

Jaemin’s eyes perked up. “Don't hold back now.”

He licks her, more breathing and more hungrily, like wolfing down her ear lobes.

Yumi grips onto anything, slowly crumbling as he keeps going at it. He’s lewdly going through her ear, who knew she would be this sensitive?

She’s almost melting along the stone wall behind her. “Ha... hmmm.”

She managed to reach his free hand holding hands and intertwining it. He chuckles as he stares at her heated state. “You’re so cute right now, Yumi-yah.”

“Nana…To-too much, Jaem…” Stuttering, it’s getting more difficult to complete words, growing incoherent as she feels a burning sensation of pleasure.

And this is all just getting sensitive with her ears, and his damn tongue.

Oh, Merlin.

Jaemin’s holding her hands, pinning her down to the wall to keep her in place whenever she squirms. He keeps bringing her jaw still to keep her in place as he continues nibbling her skin.

“Ha... ha... ah, Nana, ha... hmppphhh.”

Too much, it’s overwhelmingly good. Her scratching and holding back to her tight grips on his chest and back— shoulders, all over… she’s almost descending her body, but Jaemin keeps her secured.

Yumi reaches for his arm for support as he keeps her chin up intact in place as he devours her.

Licking her now wet ear, he pulls away with a smirk. “Now on the other side, so it's equal, hmmm? Don't want the other feeling left out.”

“Ahh, you're too good at this…” Yumi had to laugh as she breathed out, she leaned onto him, grabbing hold of his body in an embrace. “Jae.. jaem, please…”

“Hmmm?”

“Kiss me, please.”

He wraps his arms around her, then caresses her arms tenderly. “If you ask that nicely,” with his rasp and low, he leans into her.

They began making out again, it wasn’t too difficult asking her lips to open up with his tongue for entrance as they began their pace in the mix of lips and tongue.

With Yumi gripping more tightly on him, the clothes are beginning to be an obstruction.

Jaemin thinks so too.

Feeling her body language, he begins to move his hand from her waist, going lower to her hips… grazing his touch to her legs. When Yumi keeps squirming and moaning actively as he reaches closer to her inner thighs.

Jaemin looks at her first before going beneath her skirt. He touches her panties, smirking as she shrieks, enclosing her legs, almost trapping his hand in between.

“Aigoo, that got you turned on, huh?”

Yumi blushes, too overwhelmed and stimulated. No use denying how soaking wet it got her.

Jaemin now fully puts his hand underneath her skirt, grazing his fingers on her stained panties. “No need to be shy, Lumi-yah.”

Yumi flushed at her own stickiness. “I’m…”

Positioning his knee in between her legs, Jaemin continues to stimulate her ears, his other hand pinching and twisting her earlobes.

The other is taken care of with his tongue flicking and tracing wet saliva on her ear.

She shudders as he blows at it, the sudden air added to the already shivering sensation of his breath and hungry groans as he eats up her ear.

He then moves to sucking onto it, making her emit another level of vowels.

Yumi can't help but feel weird and bothered by the wet and dirty sounds. Her whimpering and writhing, she keeps resisting the melting sensation. “Oh, Gods… haaa…”

He smirks, amused, whispering as he teases her. “This is what I would do to your sweet, sweet pussy later.”

She swallows in anticipation. “Don’t keep me waiting… ha… then, Na Jaemin.”

Yumi gulped and breathed heavily, the more he continued to ravage her ears with his tongue and teeth biting it.

She mewls, her legs already weak, she gradually grows more and more embarrassed as she practically feels herself dripping wet down there.

Jaemin stops momentarily to move her, asking her to turn to the side.

With her state too muddled over and clouded with lust, she just complies.

“Can I?” Jaemin glances at her clothes, and with a nod, he goes on to the next step.

He starts removing her tie, keeping keen eye contact as he starts unbuttoning her blouse. He loosens up his tie, placing a kiss on her lips whilst finishing up opening the last buttons of her shirt.

With her bare skin exposed, he stared at her with awe. The dimness of the cloudy afternoon didn’t faze the glow of their sweaty skin against the remaining light of the sky.

“You’re so pretty, gorgeous…” Cupping her chest, he lets himself feel the plumpness of her breasts. She gasps at his touch, he then grazes over the rim of her bralette.

Frilled lace, baby blue… fittingly cute for a cutie like Yumi.

“I like you so much, Yumi.”

He smiles to himself, then looks at her again for permission.

She puts her hand on his arm, patting it. “Go on, Jaem.”

Jaemin pulled down her bra, the reveal along with the cold air brushing against her skin made her shudder good.

Jaemin didn’t make her wait long. As a man of his word, his mouth meets her nipples as he goes on to nibble it.

“Ha… ha- ooh…” His other hand traced around her erect nipples, his fingers teasingly twisting them, adding to her arousal.

It wasn’t long before he reached in between her legs again, her heated and wet core asking for any touch since earlier.

“Please do, do me more, Jaemin.” She lifts her skirt with her two hands, eyes dewy with pleads for his touch.

He sets aside her panties so his fingers are free to touch her pussy, dripping wet and ready for him to stimulate. Jaemin inserts a digit, then another, smoothly going in and out of her squeezing core as he’s ramming and pounding his fingers.

“Ahh… ha-so good, oohh, ahh!”

Simultaneous with sucking her tits and fingering her good, he keeps interchanging breasts as he’s tracing his tongue on her erect nipples.

They are so turned on right now, adding how the cold air is hitting their heightened body temperature combined as they're high up the tower.

Jaemin carries her up so she's elevated and seated. Not only to make Yumi comfortable but it’s an easier access to fingerfuck her.

He pulls her panties down, setting them aside by her one leg.

Gaining full access to her sensitive area, she had to inhale and contain herself on how good he was with his tongue. Is this how it feels to be fingerfucked?

Touching herself alone in her dorm bed late at night isn’t enough, and it’s entirely a new world on how he’s letting her reach novel heights.

“Jaemin… ha, ah! Hmphhh…” Yumi had to control how much she was clenching her hands on his scalp. She managed to hold on to his shoulders. And he’s gone in no other direction but through and deep into her heated core.

She’s already a mess, with how his fingers are plunging in and out of her pussy. All this whilst licking and flicking on her clit, and tending to her breasts.

Jaemin goes faster, then curls his finger as if activating a button in the depths of her cunt.

Feeling a twist at the pit of her stomach, she had to gasp, tighter on the grip she was doing as she was holding onto Jaemin.

Oh, Merlin, is thi—

“I’m com— haaa!” Yumi almost yelped at the sensation, like an explosion spreading all over her system as she experienced one of her biggest orgasms yet.

Jaemin lowers himself, licking her, and eats her out while she just finished cumming.

She had to hang her head high, back arching as she’s still sensitive as fuck.

Ragged and labored, Yumi catches up with her breath.

Jaemin ascended, teasingly licking his lips as he leaned close to her, putting both his hands on the tabletop. “Okay, that's enough. Just enough for you to think of me tonight, sweetie.”

Still in a daze, Yumi thoughtlessly asks. “Just tonight?”

Jaemin’s eyes perk. "Hmmm? So enough to last a while?"

Yumi shakes her head. “I want more.”

With such honesty, he admires her more at that pleasant display. “Next time, sweetie.”

There’s more? She breathes out, smiling. “I'd like that.”

Yumi kisses the side of his face, placing her chin atop his head. She twists it with her finger, tracing the lines of his scalp. “I… can we take it slow? I admit I got ahead of myself.”

“Me too… but yeah, I’m just here either way.” He hugs her, sniffing and breathing in her honey scent. Just close and long enough that Yumi’s warmth lingers in him.

He pats her head, stroking her hair with his arm as they recuperate.

It sure activated her hunger for more. They should do lots of homework more often like this.

※ my masterlist | #enjeiwrites ※

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 08

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 8

It was a joyous affair, brimming with colour and laughter. The blushing bride and groom faced each other, ready to begin their jaimala ceremony. Khushi's radiant smile lit up her face, her eyes sparkling with mischief and laughter. She was delighted to witness not only her brother's wedding but also one of her childhood friend's special day. She was somewhat relieved to see Arnav loosen up a bit as well.

Khushi was ecstatic when Mr. Ganguly and his family left early to catch their train, unable to stay for the late-night pheres. They promised to keep in touch once back in Calcutta. She secretly hoped they would break their promise.

As soon as the Pandit asked them to proceed the ceremony, Akash lifted Aman to prevent Anjali from placing the jaimala around his neck, causing ripples of laughter among the crowd. Suddenly, Arnav appeared from behind and lifted Anjali up, surprising both brothers. As a result, Anjali successfully placed the mala around her future husband's neck.

It was such a trivial moment, but Khushi couldn't help but blush as the muscles of his arms bulged beneath the black kurta from the exertion. The corded muscles of his back and shoulders rippled with strength as he moved. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his defined forearms sprinkled with dark hair. He had gotten a haircut a few days ago, and the neatness of it accentuated the ruggedness of the two-day stubble, making him look irresistibly handsome.

Khushi's gaze lingered on him, captivated by the effortless masculinity he exuded. Her thoughts began to drift, drawn into a vivid daydream. She imagined him dressed as a groom, standing tall and proud in a mandap adorned with flowers and lights. She saw herself standing beside him, her hands adorned with henna, dressed in a resplendent bridal outfit. The image was so vivid and beautiful that it made her heart ache. But as quickly as the vision appeared, she shook her head to dispel it. Khushi lowered her head, her cheeks still warm from the blush, and tried to focus on the present, determined not to let her imagination run wild.

A soft knock interrupted Khushi's struggle with an earring, prompting her to turn around from where she was sitting in front of her dressing table. There, on her doorstep, stood Arnav. The warm light above her head, combined with the fading evening glow, created a soft halo around her.

But as she tucked her loose hair behind her left ear, her fingers brushed against the earring she was wearing. Her mind went back to Arnav again and what transpired between them a few hours ago.

Arnav stood transfixed for a moment, taking in the marvellous sight before him. Khushi always possessed an effortless beauty, but today she looked truly ethereal in a maroon-red saree that draped elegantly around her figure. The colour seemed to illuminate her skin, giving it a radiant, almost translucent quality. Her raven-black hair flowed like a silken waterfall down her back, enhancing the allure of her appearance. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still.

"Arnav," her soft voice broke his reverie.

" Um...I'm here for Aman's sherwani. He needs to get ready. It's almost time," He replied in a thick voice.

" Oh! it's on that table."

Nodding his head, Arnav moved towards the designated table but his attention was suddenly diverted by the sound of Khushi's distress.

" Hai !! Devi maiya!!! e kya ho geya???? What will I wear to the wedding now? " she whined.

"what happened? "

"See, my earring broke," she exclaimed, turning her whole body to the left.She displayed the broken pieces with an adorable pout. The corners of Arnav's lips lifted of their own accord.

He kneeled in front of her, "Let me see."

Handing him the earring, Khushi clutched the side of the stool she was sitting on. His proximity sent a shiver down her spine as his familiar scent swirling around her, tinged with a hint of musk and sandalwood. Despite her previous distraction with the earring, she couldn't help but notice how impeccably he had dressed for the occasion. The black kurta he wore draped his frame with subtle elegance. Was it the kurta that made him look so debonair, or was it he who made the ordinary kurta look spectacular? Before she could find an answer, she heard him ask. "Do you have any safety pin?"

Her hands darted out to find one. Once she handed it over, he deftly coiled its wire into a circle and used it to mend her broken earring, restoring it to its former charm. Khushi's entire face lit up, eliciting a sense of accomplishment in her companion as he gazed at her.

Taking the earring from him, Khushi turned back toward the mirror. Her fingers trembled as she attempted to secure it on her left ear. Each time she tried, the delicate jewellery slipped through her grasp, frustrating her efforts. Arnav remained kneeling before her, his gaze fixed on her struggle with a calm intensity. With a sigh of exasperation, Khushi tried again, determined to succeed this time. Sensing her struggle, Arnav reached out and gently grasped her hand. "Let me."

Carefully, he retrieved the earring from her trembling fingers and brushed her hair aside, exposing her left earlobe. He delicately secured the earring in her piercing. The warmth contrasted with the coolness of the jewellery. His fingers lingered, causing goosebumps to rise on the back of her neck. Their noses nearly touched as Khushi turned to meet his gaze. The air around them came alive, vibrating with an almost palpable energy.

Arnav's gaze drifted to the centre of her eyebrows; her bindi had become slightly askew from her previous struggle. Without breaking the moment, his left hand moved gently to adjust it, his touch gentle and focused, almost as if in a trance. After ensuring the bindi was perfectly in place, his fingertips trailed down her cheek in a tender caress. The closeness between them was intoxicating, and most importantly, Khushi's mind was free from any haziness. Even in the dim light, she could see the subtle dilation of his pupils and how the golden streaks in his irises blended seamlessly with the rich caramel brown. And how every tiny muscle in his face appeared to unwind, shaping his features into an expression she hadn't fully familiarized herself with yet.

"Oh, Sanka Devi, jaldi niche aao, aur kitni deer se taiyaar hogi ?"

Buaji's voice shattered the moment in an instant. Arnav swiftly rose, grabbed the sherwani, and hastily left her room. But, a spark of hope lightened her heart. It was the expression on his face, which had remained constant since he had come back to Dehli for the wedding. She always prided herself on being intimately familiar with every subtle nuance of his expressions, akin to knowing the back of her hand. However, this particular expression was unfamiliar to her—although she vaguely recalled seeing something similar when they kissed. But, She couldn't be sure, uncertain due to her hazy memory. Determined, she now felt compelled, more than ever, to utilize her expertise in deciphering Arnav's emotions from his facial expressions.

The laughter of the flocks around her brought Khushi back to the present.

After the jaimala ceremony, everyone moved closer to the mandap, where Arnav found himself standing beside Khushi. As the moment for the gatbandhan arrived, Khushi eagerly stepped forward but felt a firm resistance on her forearm. Turning back, she was surprised to see Suvadra Malik holding her elbow. In that instant, she noticed another familiar hand in her peripheral vision reaching for his Nani's forearm. As soon as Suvadra met Arnav's eyes, she released her grip on Khushi. Arnav encouraged Khushi with a subtle nod, prompting her to go forward.

Arnav turned back to his nani and said through his teeth,"What is your problem now? We talked about this earlier, didn't we?"

Suvadra glared at her grandson. "That girl is a bad omen, Apni baap aur ma dono ko nikal gayi."

''So is your granddaughter ''

''Khabardar jo anjali ki bare main ulta sedha bola toh! I just don't want any harm come to my Anjali bitiwa".

"I don't say anything, but that doesn't mean I can't. We are both here for her sake because we both want her to be happy. Don't create a scene. You'll only hurt your crystal-clear reputation." With a raise of his eyebrows, he drove his point home with his nani and left her fuming.

After that, the wedding went off without a hitch. Arnav was overjoyed for his little sister. Despite their difficult past, she had found love in an honourable man. No one knew Aman better than Arnav, and he was relieved that Anjali had found a husband like him.

As the final notes of the ceremony faded away, Arnav found himself engulfed in a profound sense of melancholy. Each moment, each fleeting glance, reminded him of what he was about to lose. With no reason to stay any longer, he knew he had to leave soon.

After the wedding, an impending doom loomed over Khushi, with each passing hour. To worsen the situation, a telegram arrived on the third day informing them that Mr. Ganguly had taken a liking to Khushi and wished to marry her as soon as possible. On one hand, Arnav was going to leave soon. She would probably never see him again. On the other hand, the marriage proposal became a pressing concern for her, despite Babuji's reassurance that they would not proceed without her consent. Yet, whether today or tomorrow, marriage seemed inevitable. Khushi couldn't afford to procrastinate on the marriage issue any longer, especially considering the impact it could have on Babuji's reputation. She always felt immense gratitude towards Amma and Babuji and couldn't bear the thought of them ever regretting raising her.

Khushi's heart pounded this time with urgency, urging her to summon her courage and confront Arnav once again with the knowledge and awareness, she didn't have before. She knew she owed it to herself to try, despite the fear and uncertainty. She needed answers, at least a closure, perhaps even a reckoning with the truth. It was her final chance to lay bare her heart and demand the honesty she deserved, regardless of the emotional toll it might take. She had nothing left to lose anymore.

That urgency and determination brought her to Arnav's door in the middle of the night, just a day before he was scheduled to leave.

<previous> | <next>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @arshisrabbave @arshiradio @msbhagirathi @deliciouspistachios @titaliya

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (68)

Part 1- Part 59 / Part 60 / Part 61 / Part 62 / Part 63 / Part 64 / Part 65 / Part 66 / Part 67 /

Created: May 28th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

A Hot Mess-Peetabreadgirl (ao3) Summary: Katniss finds herself in a hot mess when Gale comes looking for a second chance. A Thousand Lifetimes-PoppedTheP (ff) Summary: A collection of Katniss/Peeta AU short stories. Both Modern AUs & Panem AUs. First up: Modern AU, as eleven year olds in a group home. Back to the Start-OfPearlsAndShoelaces (ao3) Summary: When a hijacked Peeta returns from the Capitol, Katniss is whisked backwards in time. Given a second chance to change the course of events, will she be able to swallow her pride and seize the opportunity? Friends in Strange Places-oh_so_loverly (ao3) Summary: In which, Katniss and Peeta make new friends (sort of?) in the lobby of Peeta's apartment building. Galefriend-Peetabreadgirl (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Peeta are miserable without each other. What brings them back together is life changing. Honey Trap-Pagedancer87 (ao3) Summary: Honey Trap n. a stratagem in which irresistible bait is used to lure a victim. i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)-oh_so_loverly (ao3) Summary: A pre-canon one-shot of Finnick and Annie's anniversary, known in the Capitol as Valentine's Day. Just in Case-OfPearlsAndShoelaces (ao3) Summary: It's the sex talk we never got to see! Peeta has been sleeping in Katniss's bed during the Victory Tour, so Effie and Haymitch have some select words for our star- crossed lovers. One-shot. Fits in canon. Resolutions-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: In which an important question needs to be asked—but not before Mellark Family approval. Takes place roughly four years after the epilogue of “Two Wrongs” and “Daughters” Ribbon-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Sometimes, the simplest things hold the biggest memories. Post-Mockingjay. From Katniss’ and Buttercup’s POV.

[arsenalgbt]

https://x.com/aloeluo/status/1843628990227198461?s=46&t=vKnZk-PbkJX5j4IMp7Dgdg

More abuse …

You’re welcome ..

I think this should be enough to proof to anyone that Kai is Wilo’s bitch

Someone also wrote “Wilo needs a gf asap” ffs 😭

link

mate................... what the hell willo AJSJDFKJADSFJKAJFJKA oh you like him don't you, baby darling? you like kai LMAO!!!!!!! willo that's so obvious!!!!! latent baby darlingism teasing annoying bothering the hell out of his crush...

what fascinates me is... kai is hella unfazed JASJDFJAJJFDSJKA he just swats willo like he would swat a fucking bug CRYING it means kai is too used to willo annoying him 😭 goddamn what spurred this on willo lol or is kai just that irresistible JASJHDFHJADJHFA

thanks for this anon, I'm still yet moved. I'm just fascinated so far. willo being obvious is so fun and funny!!!!

[chaifootsteps]

I will make a throw away side account and DM you the pictures. Again, I can't risk being found out. I don't have the mental stability.

But I hope it can give clarification. I also have my document on when I came out about my experience but I fear my old user will bring people to my new.

I dunno. It's a lot. And even though I came out, I'm just not sure how it'll all Go down seen again.

Also, I do have a few characters I designed as a means to write them how I would write angel. Another drawing I'll DM you on the throw away account.

I enjoy angel and still do. He's a treasure, but the episodes wrote him and Val's dynamic horrible. Angel is just a sexual harassing jerk , who youd think would treat others better after what he's been through.

Keep any and all comments about himself for himself until others think it's okay to say things thing about him and then he shuts down entirely.

Let's say uhh, "I may call myself dumb, but that's not for you to agree with. " him calling himself sexy, beautiful, irresistible for the sake of making sure he himself never loses that self love till someone takes that and tries to use that against him by saying, "you're sexy, smokin, begging for it. " makes him shut down and close himself off cause his self love isn't an ask for attention.

That's how I'd handle him. He'll, he wouldn't even flirt with husk, he'd avoid that guy like the plague cause he's drinking and angel would be nervous around a continuous drunk.

As for my time with the huskerdust ship. It was nice. I enjoyed the back and forth we had.

But seeing how hunter spoke of FF and LD [which I work at one of them, won't say which] ✨

It really just made me throw our fun away.

I'll write something better with the character I designed for the sake of writing a character if I had to write angel.

I'm a SA survivor. I got luck at my very young age that nothing was taken from my flower wise, but I was still touched and treated as if I shouldn't say anything.

I got lucky. But still affected of what was to come. And what a person who was made to protect me wanted.

And seeing how people will write off those who still hurt, no matter the range, makes me infuriated.

I'm rambling. I have a lot of hate towards Spindle horse and I wasn't even there long.

Btw, I am in full belief I was only hired cause I was black. [I mean I still am but... Ya know--]

-👽 alien anon.

No, not rambling at all, all of this is fascinating. I'm sorry for everything you've been through, then and before then. Definitely extremely glad to hear you're working on a better project.

But yeah, any pictures you feel like sharing, please do!

(Also who's falling on that precious taste of a pilot/Instagram Hazbin long gone and getting slightly emotional about it? Certainly not me.)

[hoakaikapo]

LABYRINTH - Clarisse La Rue x Unclaimed! Daughter of Poseidon OC

a/n: this is a little snippet from my ff that’s on my wattpad. only chapters 1&2 are released so far, 3&4 are planned to come out this week.

warnings: fighting, blood, mentions of alcohol

———————

“You alright there, hotshot?” A familiar voice asked.

Sienna’s eyes roamed the person’s body: brown skin, muscular arms, curly brown hair, dark brown eyes – the image of Clarisse La Rue appeared in front of her. The Ares girl kept a firm grip on Sienna and helped to stand her up slowly. A look of concern appeared on Clarisse’s face.

“Oh, hey, Charlie,” Sienna said loudly, her words slurred and drunk. “How are you doing tonight?”

“I’m doing pretty good here, Nenna.” The Ares girl responded.

“That’s good. I’m doing wonderful.”

“Oh, really? I haven’t noticed.”

Sienna hummed in response and smiled as her hands gripped the hem of her shirt. She could barely feel her head and needed something to keep her steady – or, in this case, Clarisse.

After a few moments, Sienna began finding the strength to gather herself together. She wanted to head back to… whoever she was going to see. Silena? Harper? She couldn’t remember. Sienna stood up before falling back into Clarisse’s arms.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to catch me twice,” she muttered and chuckled to herself. “I see why you’re the daughter of Ares, though. You have a good reaction time and you’re very strong.”

She’s so drunk.

Clarisse laughed, then flashed that brilliant smile of hers. “I think you may have had too much fun tonight, hotshot.”

“Mm, really? Wanna walk me back to my cabin, then?” Sienna’s tone was seductive; her words slurred, the darkened, drunk look in her eyes was almost irresistible, the way her lips parted slightly. The alcohol was definitely doing the talking here.

The boy, Clarisse’s half-brother, had instead come over to them rather than wait for her. Sienna’s visibly drunk figure clutched onto his older sister’s chest. He cleared his throat to break the silence between the two girls.

“What do you want, Ethan?” Clarisse growled. She noticed his eyes flicker to the drunk girl in her arms. It wasn’t a matter of what he wanted, it was who he wanted, and Clarisse wasn’t going to have it. “No, Sienna’s done for tonight. I’m taking her back to her cabin.”

Something snapped in her. Sienna looked up at the tall girl. “What? No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re too drunk.” Clarisse argued.

“I’m completely fine, Clarisse. But thank you for the help,” Sienna pushed herself off of the Ares girl and gestured for Ethan to start walking away with her.

Clarisse grabbed her arm. “Sienna, you asked me to take you back to your cabin. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Let her decide what she wants to do, Clarisse.” Ethan inserted himself into their soon-to-be argument. He stepped slightly between them and removed his sister’s grip off Sienna’s arm. In a few moments, Ethan would learn this was a mistake.

“I suggest you get out of my way, Ethan.” Clarisse warned.

Ethan scoffed. “You’re not her boss. If she wants to go with me, then let her go with me.”

That did it.

Before anything else, fist met face and a fight erupted between the two half-siblings. Sienna watched in shock as they wrestled on the ground; Clarisse mainly the one winning their tussle. She held him by his shirt, punch after punch was thrown while he helplessly tried to strangle her. Everyone was already watching now: the boys cheering the Ares girl on for beating her brother. Across the way, Sienna saw Silena mouthing to her: ‘What happened?’ Sienna pointed to herself. A few of the other Ares kids stepped in to stop the fight.

Once the two managed to get off each other, Sienna – and everyone else – saw the damage on them. Ethan’s nose was bleeding profusely, his right eye was blue and purple, and his lip was busted and red. The stitches in his right hand had burst open. Clarisse’s lip was bleeding and her knuckles were bruised from punching him. Her eyes darted around the crowd, looking for the girl she had just gotten into a fight with her sibling for; she saw her figure slip out from the crowd and head back towards the cabins.

——————

in conclusion: clarisse is gay, doesn’t realize she has a fat crush on her best friend, and will literally fight anyone for sienna — whether she likes it or not.

[youdontjustgiveup]

August: Chapter 20

( ao3 | ff )

Previous Chapters: [link]

Summary: Chuck Bass, a crash course in hallucinative self-therapy.

Pairing: Chuck x Blair

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: None

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

You’ve reached Blair Waldorf’s voicemail. Leave a message, and I’ll see if you’re worth my time. 

Fuck.

Well, he certainly brought it on himself. What did he expect? That she would be glued to the phone, waiting for him to save her? That after countless ignored calls and texts, she would pick up? Welcome him with open arms?

He put the phone back in his pocket and rubbed his hand over his face. Fuck, fuck, fuck.  

When he had returned to the Hamptons, he had found the house empty. No sign of the girls, no sign of Nate. Desperation had driven him to ask his stepsister where they were. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. But when he had finally tracked them down, the sight of Blair running to the bathroom, her eyes glassy and on the verge of tears, had shattered him. He had wanted to reach out, to pull her into his arms, but fear had paralyzed him. Before he could act, Serena had beaten him to it, causing him to turn away and hide. 

“Rough night?” said a black-haired, impeccably dressed guy smoking at the exit of the club. 

“You have no idea.”

The guy offered him a pack of cigarettes. “You look like you could use one of these. Women trouble?”

Chuck accepted and flicked his lighter, the flame casting a brief, warm glow on his troubled face. “Something like that.”

“They’re all the same, man. Impossible to please and not worth the headache. Don’t waste your time trying to figure them out. They’re only good for one thing, and even that’s questionable.”

He took a long drag. “You’re wrong.”

The guy shrugged, clearly not interested in his opinion. “Suit yourself. But take it from me, they’re not worth the pain.”

“She is worth it.” His voice was firm, a quiet intensity burning in his eyes. “She is worth everything.” 

Chuck exhaled slowly, the smoke dissipating into the night air. 

“You’re fucked,” the guy laughed. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I guess I am.”

“Good luck with that. Love only sets you up to get torn apart.”

“Maybe. But some things are worth the risk.”

A week ago

Chuck stirred from a restless sleep, head throbbing in protest as consciousness clawed its way back to him. Another night, more bottles drained. Another pitiful display. Blinking against the harsh moonlight filtering through the curtains, he found himself tangled in sheets, with Blair’s form curled up beside him in peaceful repose. 

His stomach churned, a grim reminder of the night’s excesses. As he sat up far too quickly for his liking, the room began to spin around him, like a merry-go-round of regret. Dehydration set in, his mouth parched. The horrible taste of hangover coated his tongue, undeniable proof of what a fucking idiot he had been. 

If only he hadn’t acted like a total jerk in what was supposed to be a harmless game between friends. If only he hadn’t let jealousy get the best of him. If only he hadn’t won Best Friend of the Year. If only he hadn’t picked up the phone and dialed Georgina’s number. If only he hadn’t tried to numb the pain, maybe he could have faced it head-on and saved the people he loved from the wreckage he was now buried under. 

But what was done was done, and it could not be undone. It was just another screw-up to add to his long list of mistakes, a list that felt endless. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he stop? The wheel of self-condemnation kept on spinning. A total disappointment to everyone around him. 

Pain, pain, and more pain.

Then, Blair shifted in her sleep, a subtle furrow forming on her forehead as if in disagreement. Her hand sought his, and a soft, irresistible pout graced her lips, adding to her already captivating beauty. The room stopped spinning. Her chest rose and fell in time with his heartbeat, each breath pulling him out of the hole he had dug for himself, inch by inch. And in that fleeting time, a warmth unlike any he had ever felt suffused his tired muscles. 

Was he truly capable of becoming the man she deserved? Could he love her the way she needed him to?

If tonight was proof of anything, the answer would be a resounding no.

With trembling fingers, Chuck carefully brushed back a stray curl that had fallen across her face, his touch lingering on her cheek. His thumb traced the curve of her jaw before caressing her lips. In the hush of the night, he wished that time would stand still. As he marveled at the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips, he felt his heart swell with an overwhelming intensity, as if nothing else could fit inside him.

To open himself to love was to invite weakness, a lesson his father had instilled in him since childhood, yet here he was, grappling with emotions so potent they defied his understanding and left him utterly defenseless.

As if burned by an invisible flame, Chuck recoiled, pulling his fingers away and instinctively pressing a hand to his chest. His heart hammered against his rib cage like a desperate, trapped bird, his lungs gasping for air against the oppressive burden of his own limitations.

How could he, so broken and flawed, dare to dream of deserving something so pure and good? The very idea seemed absurd. Totally out of reach. With a mother lost to death and a father’s scorn as his only companion, how could he possibly comprehend giving and receiving love?

Bart knew he couldn’t. Even his best friend understood that.

What happened to all those speeches about wanting her happiness? Do you really think she’ll find it with you? That you’re the better choice? Nate’s words echoed in his head. Do you really think he’s gonna treat you right? He’s Chuck Bass. He can’t love anyone, Blair. He’s going to hurt you.

Are you really counting on Chuck Bass to be your knight in shining armor? Georgina’s taunts lingered like a bitter taste in his mouth. Do you honestly think he loves you? We both know he can’t.

Sad, pathetic, little boy. His father’s harsh judgment cut through him like a knife. I’ve seen nothing in you that suggests you have what it takes. If anything, you’ve been nothing but a disappointment.

It all pressed upon him like a heavy yoke, threatening to crush him. How long would it take Blair to realize that they had been right all along? That he was born on a dead-end road. 

How could he ever hope to bring her happiness if he was destined to fall short? 

Leaving felt like the only way out, a last-ditch attempt to protect her from the inevitable heartbreak that trailed behind him like a shadow. But in truth, he wasn’t just running from her; he was running from himself, from the merciless reality of his own shortcomings that would surely consume them both.

Blair would despise him, but that was a price he was willing to pay. 

Hate, in its bitter familiarity, appeared almost comforting. He had weathered its storms before, grown accustomed to its presence. It was a strange relief in the midst of the chaos. 

As soon as Chuck’s motorcycle roared to life beneath him, regret clawed at his insides like an implacable beast. Was he doing what was best? Every mile he traveled, each curve of the road, only increased the pain in his chest. How could he stay away from her? Was his need to protect her from himself stronger than his desire to hold her close? With each passing moment, the urge to turn back grew stronger. It tore at him. 

But as much as he wanted to retreat into the safety of her arms, Chuck knew he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t do that to her. 

The throbbing pain in his brain had subsided to a tolerable level when he awoke in his suite at the Palace without Blair at his side. With a grunt, Chuck forced himself to sit up, his movements lethargic and heavy, as if he had been run over by a truck. He dragged himself upright and shuffled to the kitchenette. Glass after glass of water went down his throat, the cool liquid a soothing balm against his sandpaper mouth. 

Feeling the fatigue weighing down on him like a leaden blanket, Chuck returned to his bed. He reached for the small bottle of sleeping pills on his nightstand. Swallowing them with a painful grimace, he succumbed once more to the alluring embrace of sleep, anxious to escape the void of his waking hours.

In his dream, Chuck was transported back to a time when he and Nate were sixteen years old. The scene unfolded before him with startling clarity: the hideous beige pants, the yellow shirt, and the blazer that identified them as students of St. Jude’s. But what etched itself most deeply into his subconscious was the pain on his face as he held an ice pack to his already swollen eye. His best friend sat next to him in the headmaster’s office. 

Headmaster Smith’s stern voice broke the tense silence. “I’m afraid I must inform your father of this, Mr. Bass,” he said, his disapproval evident. It was not the first time he had waited in that very chair to be punished, and he knew all too well that it would not be the last. “What you have done warrants disciplinary action. Here, in our esteemed institution, such behavior will not be tolerated. Resorting to violence of any kind against a fellow student is simply unacceptable.”

“Go ahead, call him,” Chuck challenged.

Perhaps his father would have paid more attention that way, but to no one’s surprise, Bart Bass simply did not care, just as Chuck no longer cared about the consequences. His father, or rather his lawyer, would likely settle the matter with monetary compensation, as if wealth could solve all problems. How egregious was the insolence of a son who wasted his father’s precious time on trifles unworthy of a man.

The sting of rejection felt just as raw as it had all those years ago. No amount of money or material success could force fatherly love after all. 

“As for you, Mr. Archibald, I expect better judgment from a young man of your caliber. While I recognize your athletic potential and commendable character, I must caution you about the company you keep.”

As they left the office, Nate reached into his pockets and looked down at the floor. 

“Why did you take the blame for me? It was all my fault,” he said. “I punched him. I should be the one getting punished.”

“And see Anne Archibald freak out about her golden boy getting a suspension? Not a chance,” Chuck replied, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips.

“You shouldn’t have jumped in. Look at your face. Pete got a really good hit.”

“Ah, come on, Nathaniel. It’s just a black eye. Besides, if this was your face, Waldorf would have our heads on a pike for letting some guy mess it up.”

“And nobody wants to be the target of Blair’s fury.”

“Indeed.”

“Thanks. I owe you one, big time.”

“There’s no need for a scoreboard between friends. We’ve always had each other’s backs, and that’s not about to change.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, man.”

“Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out.”

“Neither will you.” 

He didn’t hold many people in high regard, but Nate Archibald was a rare exception.

As their conversation faded, St. Jude’s corridors shifted into the interior of his friend’s yacht. Nate’s face, which had previously been warm with camaraderie and gratitude, now changed into an accusatory scowl. They were still clothed in their school uniforms, creating a bizarre juxtaposition.  

“Did you also have my back when you were lusting after my girl all those years, huh?” Nate said. “What a good friend you were.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Come on, Chuck, don’t play dumb. You’ve always had a thing for her. Always lurking around, waiting for your chance to make a move.”

“That’s not how it went down, and you know it.”

“Do I?”

“Not once did I act on it while she was with you.”

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?”

More than anything else in the world. But he hadn’t. Even though every fiber of his being had screamed for him to do so, he’d held back, sticking to some imaginary bro code. 

“Admit it,” Nate urged.

What did he have to lose now? Nate wasn’t even there. It wasn’t real.

“I did. So what? It’s not my fault you were too blind to see what was right in front of you,” Chuck spat out the words. “Blair was right there, and you couldn’t see how incredible she was. You never appreciated her, not like she deserved, and it cost you everything.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?”

It landed like a slap in the face. “Shut up,” he growled.

“Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me mess up, time after time? Hoping I’d slip up so you could snatch your best friend’s girl?”

Chuck’s fists clenched. “Blair is not your girl.”

“Then whose is she? Yours? Please. As if you could ever hold onto anything without screwing it up.”

“Just shut up,” he muttered, his hands shaking at his sides. His shoulders slumped forward as if bracing for the impact of the painful truth. With a hint of desperation, he pleaded, “Please.”

But Nate continued, relentlessly. “Why put her through your misery? Hasn’t she had enough?”

“I care about her, okay? I really do. More than you’ll ever understand.”

“Don’t make me laugh. You never think beyond your own desires. You betrayed our friendship for your own selfish gain. Was it worth it?”

“It wasn’t like that. You were not together. You didn’t love each other, and I… I…”

“And what? You do?”

The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, desperate to break free.

“You’re nothing but a spineless coward, Chuck. Hollow at your core. Blair deserves way more than you can ever give her.”

He wanted to scream. But he was powerless, trapped in the twisted labyrinth of his own mind.

“Pathetic.” But that voice wasn’t Nate’s. It hadn’t been for a while. It was his father’s. “You’re just a pitiful, broken boy. Weak. Soft as silk, and twice as useless.”

It was a new day when he opened his eyes again. He was drenched in sweat, his stomach churning and his body weak. He threw off the clinging sheets and welcomed the fresh air on his clammy skin.

Chuck was torn between two opposing forces, each vying for his attention like contestants in a tug-of-war match. There was Blair, and there was the overbearing presence of his father. He was paralyzed by the fear of losing his balance, terrified that leaning too far to one side would result in everything crashing down around him. 

How could he bare his soul, let others see the depths of who he really was, and still maintain the strong front his father demanded?

A wave of nausea washed over him. He doubled over slightly, feeling the emptiness clawing at him from the inside. When had he last eaten? It took Chuck a moment to recall—had it been yesterday? No, surely it had been the day before. 

“Must we add ‘wasting away’ to your repertoire of bad habits?” It was as if Blair herself was standing there, hands on hips, giving him an earful. Beautiful as always. “I mean, you’re starting to resemble one of those tragic characters from a Dickens novel, and we both know you prefer Fitzgerald.” 

“Leave me alone, Waldorf.” 

“You know I can’t do that,” she said. “Eat something.”

He was losing his goddamn mind. 

Chuck reached for the hotel phone and dialed room service without even checking the time. Despite his lack of appetite, he ordered a full American breakfast. They’d be fools to deny the owner’s son a damn thing.

But the eggs seemed to have soured overnight, the bacon was burnt to a crisp, and the coffee tasted more like dishwater than anything resembling a morning pick-me-up. The food proved unpalatable, his stomach rejecting every bite. He pushed the contents of his plate around, scoffed at his own pitiful condition, and finally pushed the tray away, collapsing on the sofa in defeat. 

Seeking a mundane distraction, he picked up the New York Post, which had been sitting untouched on the side table for a month. There, he was greeted by the imposing image of his father, the pinnacle of success.

“Bass Empire Expansion: Iconic Business Titan, Renowned for Reshaping the Manhattan Skyline, Set to Revamp Brooklyn Shelter into Trendy Living Quarters.”

Fantastic.

The headline mocked him. Was this the legacy he was destined to inherit? One built on ruthless ambition, where power reigned supreme, regardless of the collateral damage left in its wake? A world devoid of affection and human connection. Where the pursuit of more, more, more eclipsed all else. The successful, the powerful, the great Bart Bass. Alone. Unreachable. Unloving. But a titan nonetheless. Indestructible. Where did the line end? What good were wealth and power if your soul felt hollow to the core?

With bitterness staining his tongue, Chuck tossed the newspaper, unable to face the reflection of his future looking back at him. Turning to whiskey for solace, he drowned his sorrows and dulled the pain in a futile attempt to forget it was even there.

The next day, a terrible pain gripped his chest. He felt sure he was having a heart attack, but instead of calling for help, he curled up into a ball and buried his face in his pillow. Perhaps that was for the best.

Days blurred into one another, haunted by vivid dreams of his childhood, Nate, and Blair. 

In some, Blair’s soft lips captured his in sweet, intoxicating kisses that left him wanting for more. They inhabited a world of their own, where time stood still and the Upper East Side was theirs to conquer. They laughed. They lived. They thrived. Other times, angry screams pierced the air. Blair hurled every conceivable insult at him until her voice ran dry. What a complete fool he’d been to let his insecurities win. But it was the dreams in which she simply looked at him with nothing but disappointment and hurt, the word ‘coward’ a damning indictment of his actions, that tormented him the most. 

He knew, even in his subconscious, that she was right, that he deserved every ounce of her hatred and reproach. What he didn’t know was whether he could handle it. He had once believed himself capable, but as time passed, he wasn’t sure anymore. Hadn’t that been the point? For her to despise him now, to save herself more pain in the future?

The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. He was causing her pain anyway. Worse yet, he was taking away her right to choose. 

He was so stupid. 

A sharp, loud knock on the door woke Chuck from his slumber. Ignoring the annoying interruption, he rolled over, hoping to return to the peaceful state of the unfinished dream he had left behind.

In his mind, he could still feel Blair, the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath his head as they lay together in their favorite spot on the beach, his form perpendicular to hers. While she immersed herself in the pages of a fashion magazine, he was lost in his own book.

“I could stay like this forever,” he murmured, almost to himself. 

He turned his head slightly to look at her, a rare smile playing on his lips. 

Blair sighed, closing her magazine. “As tempting as that sounds, Bass, I think the world might miss us too much. And let’s face it, we’d miss the city lights, too. The Upper East Side is too ingrained in our souls to leave behind.” 

“True. But it’s nice to dream, isn’t it?”

“Dreaming is one thing, but living our lives on our own terms is another. We’re not very good at it.”

“Maybe we haven’t been, but that doesn’t mean we can’t change.” 

“We thrive in chaos. It’s what makes us, us.”

“We are so much more than that.”

Blair looked at him, her eyes softening. “Do you really believe that?”

“I do.”

It was so calm, so peaceful, and he just wanted to go back. 

But the knocking persisted, demanding attention. His fingers curled into the soft fabric of the pillow as he resisted the urge to lash out. Whoever dared disturb him at this moment would have no job to come back to tomorrow.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck rose from the bed, made his way to the door, and swung it open, fully prepared to unleash his wrath upon the unsuspecting intruder. 

“What do you want?” he growled.

To his surprise, he was met not only with a hapless hotel staff member but also with a phone extended towards him. His brow furrowed in confusion as he accepted the device.

“Mister Bass asks for you,” the receptionist said, his professional demeanor unwavering. 

Chuck’s grip on the phone tightened as he retreated into the confines of his suite, shutting the door behind him. He raised the device to his ear, his father’s voice crackling through the line with an edge of impatience. “What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?” 

“Good to hear your voice too, Dad.” 

“What did you do?”

“Oh, you know me,” he replied, “just walking the fine line, as usual.”

“I don’t have time for your games.”

“I’m as innocent as they come. Feel free to sue whoever led you to think otherwise.” 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Chuck shot back defensively. “I didn’t do anything.” 

“Explain to me why Lily is losing sleep over you because Serena is blowing up her phone day and night. Or better yet, why aren’t you picking up your damn phone? What’s the point of me footing the bill if you’re just going to ignore your responsibilities and waste it on parties, women, and booze?”

“I…”

Where was his phone? Had he left it in his room in the Hamptons? Had it fallen out of his pocket on the way here? He rummaged through the bed, the sofa, his pockets, every surface. His movements became more urgent as he lifted and rearranged the decor of the hotel suite in his search. 

“Are you drunk?” his father’s voice resonated through the other end of the line when he received no response.

“I am not,” Chuck replied tersely.

“High?”

“No.”

“It’s about time you started acting like a man, Chuck. Your persistent immaturity is both disappointing and harmful to your future. When will you start taking things seriously?”

“I’ve told you, I didn’t do anything,” Chuck insisted. “If Serena is acting like a crackhead, that’s not my problem.”

“It is if you make it my problem. Your actions have consequences, and I’m too busy to play hide-and-seek with you. Get it through your head that my time is far too valuable to waste on adolescent theatrics. So, learn to clean up your own mess, and don’t run away like a coward. You’re a Bass.”

Chuck gritted his teeth, the sting of his father’s words cutting deep. 

“I’ll take care of it.”

“And don’t think I haven’t found out about that little spectacle you put on last week on your friend’s yacht,” Bart continued, his tone cold and unforgiving. “It cost me a great deal to get rid of those pitiful photos of ‘Bart Bass’ son and heir passed out at scandalous party’ that were almost printed in every tabloid.”

“It was a mistake.”

“When is it not with you?” 

“I’m—”

“What? You’re what?” Bart interrupted. “Don’t apologize like a pathetic, weak little girl. Own it.” 

The line fell silent for a moment, before his father scoffed. “I can’t believe you’re my son.”

And then, he hung up. 

Where the fuck was his phone?

He paced the room a second time. His black Belstaff riding jacket lay discarded on the floor, and as he bent down to retrieve it, his fingers brushed the smooth surface of his breast pocket. There it was, nestled snugly inside.

He pulled it out, only to find it completely dead. 

Of course. 

As soon as Chuck plugged his phone into the charger, it lit up with a ton of missed calls and text messages.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered under his breath, the harsh expletive slipping past his lips as the screen continued to glow. “What more do you want from me?”

Face it. Let people in. Don’t slink away because you’re too scared to feel, said a voice in his head.

But his fingers trembled and his stomach plummeted as he scrolled through Blair’s messages, each one a blow to his already bruised heart. They were all from the day he had left, starting with desperate pleas and worry, escalating to righteous anger. Eventually, her texts stopped altogether, leaving behind a cold silence that matched the emptiness inside him. 

This wasn’t right. It simply wasn’t. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

But what was it supposed to be like?

His own fears had led him to this steep precipice with no clear way out. How was he going to fix it? The uncertainty of what lay ahead, the threat of rejection and disappointment if he dared to open up to others, drove him straight to a strong drink. 

Until now, he had hid like a cornered animal, letting time eat away at him, with only his thoughts as companions. Hoping in vain that numbness would replace feeling. Yet, it hadn’t. The pain persisted, refusing to subside. Not only had his feelings not gone away, they had consumed him even more, and his phone was just reality smacking him in the face. Forcing him to face it. To really look at the consequences of his actions. 

For if Bart had been right about anything, it was this, and he could no longer keep pretending it wasn’t. He couldn’t run away, or unravel at the seams every time life went sideways. Every time he felt vulnerable. 

What was the point of shutting everyone out? What kind of life was that?

He didn’t have to look very far for the answer. Bart Bass was the perfect example.

Pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey, Chuck tried to calm his nerves. He had to stop hiding behind his own weaknesses, stop letting fear call the shots. With newfound determination, he turned back to his phone.

Serena’s messages, on the other hand, were predictably dramatic, filled with frantic demands and threats. 

> Chuck, u need 2 come back RN

> Tell me where u r. If u don’t answer me ASAP, I’ll call Bart & Lily

> I’m gonna kill u

> Nate’s a mess. Blair 2 

As he scrolled through the missed calls, Chuck’s chest tightened. His stepsister’s name dominated the screen, and he couldn’t help but wonder why she was such a pain in the ass. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture doing little to ease the discomfort. 

Her over-the-top theatrics were exhausting, but deep down, he knew they came from genuine concern. That knowledge did nothing to alleviate the unease that settled in his stomach. 

Why was it so hard for him to accept that people actually cared about him? Was it really such a rare thought?

The phone beeped again, this time with a new message. Unsurprisingly, it was Serena’s.

> I know u love her. Stop being a coward.

Chuck stared at the screen, her words hitting harder than he expected. His stepsister’s bluntness was jarring, but necessary. For so long, he had allowed indifference to prevail, pushing everyone away to avoid the risk of hurting and getting hurt. 

But the truth presented itself with tremendous clarity—he was not indifferent. He never had been. He felt like the rest of them. Thoughts of her consumed him incessantly, almost absurdly. Like a moth to a flame. 

As for why he was putting himself, and them, through this, he could only place the blame on his own stupidity. 

Perhaps the solution, the only answer, was as simple as returning to her side. To learn from his mistakes instead of trying to blame them on cosmic fate or some nonexistent predestined path, instead of trying to sweep them under the rug. To try to rebuild what he had lost.

Could he find the strength? He didn’t know, but he had to. 

He had to give her agency. He had to let her choose. 

For in the end, Chuck realized, the only thing that truly mattered was her. Not his father, not money, not power, but her. He could no longer deny the pull of his heart, nor did he want to.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He typed, then deleted it. He typed again, then deleted that too. He tried a third time, but quickly erased it. Nothing was good enough. It all seemed inadequate, a pale shadow of what he really wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for.  

Instead, he typed out a quick reply to Serena.

Serena’s response came fast.

> No, she’s not, u fool. Come back already

The next day, as he continued to send messages to his stepsister, Chuck began to get back on his feet. He stopped drinking, started showering, and started eating properly. 

Present day

“I’m sure you could have any girl you want.”

He took another drag, the nicotine doing little to calm his nerves. “She’s not just any girl,” he said, almost to himself. “She’s Blair Waldorf.”

The guy looked at him, clearly not understanding the meaning of those words. But Chuck didn’t care. 

Crushing the cigarette under his heel, Chuck made a silent promise to himself. He swore he would protect her happiness with everything that he had. If that made him weak, so be it. If that meant risking it all, so be it. Blair was worth every bit of effort, every sacrifice. 

He turned to the guy one last time. “Thanks for the smoke.” 

And with that, he walked away.

After hours of aimless riding, Chuck parked his flashy red motorcycle in the Hamptons driveway, the engine’s rumble settling into silence. He didn’t dare put it in the garage, wanting to keep the noise to a minimum and avoid any unnecessary attention. The fewer people who knew of his return, the better. 

He had to talk to Blair first. 

With each step, his heart pounded faster. Memories of their moments together flooded his mind—her laughter, her sharp wit, the way her eyes sparkled when she was happy. As he stood on the doorstep, motorcycle helmet cradled in the crook of his arm, the front door loomed large before him. His feet might as well have been set in cement, heavy and immovable. Petrified, with only the sound of his own heart echoing in his ears, Chuck was unsure of his next move. Now that he was so close, facing her felt like the stupidest idea in the world. What could he even say? “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for being an idiot. I’m sorry for being afraid.” Those words might be a start, but were they enough? Would she even be willing to listen? He fumbled with the keys in his pocket. 

The courage to take that crucial first step remained frustratingly out of reach. Unable to face her just yet, he turned away from the imposing entrance and headed down the familiar path to her favorite spot on the beach.

The soft sand greeted him as he kicked off his shoes, the grains cool beneath his feet. The rhythmic lapping of the waves provided a soothing backdrop. 

As he approached the shoreline, he realized he wasn’t alone. Blair was there, her silhouette bathed in the moonlight, a vision that made his heart leap into his throat and his palms sweat. He wiped them on his pants, taking a deep, steadying breath as he tried to compose himself.

This was it. It was now or never. 

He could have stayed in that room, slowly withering away, becoming Bart Bass. And he would have hated himself for it. But he hadn’t. He was here, standing just a few steps away from her, the girl who had captured his heart in ways he could never fully articulate.

Leaving the darkness that had always protected him, he sat down beside her.

[novaursa]

My Blood And Bone

- Summary: There were many times when Maegor tried to win your favor, before they locked you away. And he never forgot their insolence.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen

- Note: These events happen before Fire and Blood.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne

- A/N: This was requested by @oxymakestheworldgoround , so here is more Maegor. 🙂

Aegonfort was a cage gilded in gold, its walls bearing witness to the secrets and treachery that brewed within. It was here, beneath the shadows of the Iron Throne, that your uncle's gaze followed you, the weight of his presence suffocating and inescapable. He had always been there, lingering in the periphery, his stormy eyes dark with something unspoken, something forbidden.

You were Y/N Targaryen, second daughter of King Aenys I and Queen Alyssa Velaryon, a jewel in the crown that your father held with trembling hands. But jewels were meant to be coveted, and Maegor Targaryen was not a man content to admire from afar. He was fire and fury, a beast unchained, and you were the treasure he sought to claim, no matter the cost.

It began with a gift, a blade forged in the fires of Dragonstone, its steel as dark as his intentions. “For you, niece,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, the sword’s hilt pressing against your palm. “To keep you safe.”

Your father had frowned at the sight, his unease palpable. “She is a princess, not a warrior, brother,” he had said, his tone edged with the discomfort of a man who knew his words were futile. But Maegor’s smile was sharp, a predator’s smile.

“A princess should know how to defend herself, should she not?” His gaze flickered to you then, the intensity of it making your breath hitch. “It would be a shame for her to be unprepared should danger arise.”

The court whispered, of course. They always did. Maegor’s infatuation was no secret, nor was the growing tension between him and your father. But it was Visenya, the Dowager Queen, who saw what others chose to ignore. She watched with the keen eyes of a dragon, her silence a tacit approval of her son’s desire, for she, too, believed in the old ways, in the purity of Valyrian blood.

When Maegor took you riding on Balerion, the Black Dread, it was not a request but a command. “Come, niece,” he had said, his hand outstretched, the great dragon’s scales glistening like obsidian beneath the sun. “Let me show you the sky.”

You hesitated, your father’s warning echoing in your ears, but the defiance in Maegor’s gaze was irresistible. You took his hand, and the world fell away beneath you, the wind whipping your hair as the dragon soared higher and higher. His arms encircled you, strong and unyielding, and for a moment, you felt as though you were truly flying, free from the chains that bound you.

But Maegor was not content with mere flights of fancy. He sought to claim you in ways that words could not express, his touches lingering, his gaze possessive. When he found you alone in the godswood, your fingers trailing through the cool waters of the pond, his presence was a shadow that loomed over you, heavy and demanding.

“You should not be out here alone, niece,” he said, his voice a growl that sent shivers down your spine. “The court is full of vipers.”

You looked up at him, your defiance flickering like a flame. “And what are you, Uncle, if not the greatest viper of all?”

His laughter was dark, a sound that resonated in your bones. “Perhaps,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hand brushing against your cheek. “But I am a viper who would kill for you, who would burn the world to keep you safe.”

Your heart pounded, your breath catching as his fingers trailed down your neck, a whisper of a touch that spoke of desires long suppressed. “You are wed, Uncle. The gods forbid such thoughts.”

“The gods,” he spat, his eyes blazing with fury, “have never cared for me, nor I for them. They saddled me with a barren bride, denied me the one thing I desire most. Why should I bow to them now?”

His words were blasphemy, and yet there was a truth in them, a fire that kindled something dangerous within you. But before you could speak, before you could give voice to the storm raging inside you, your father’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Maegor!”

King Aenys stood at the edge of the grove, his face pale with anger, his hands trembling. “I will not allow this,” he said, his voice shaking with the force of his will. “You will not defile my daughter, my blood, with your twisted desires.”

Maegor’s eyes narrowed, the cold fury in them a stark contrast to the heat of his words. “You think you can keep her from me, brother? You think your weak words and weaker will can stand against what is meant to be?”

“She is not meant for you!” Aenys’s voice cracked, the desperation in it ringing clear. “She is a child, my child. You will leave her be, or I will see you banished, see you—”

“See me what, Aenys?” Maegor stepped forward, his presence towering, his hand resting on the hilt of Dark Sister. “See me banished again, as you did before? Send me away and hope that will be enough to keep her from me?”

The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with the unspoken threat that hung between them. Your heart raced, your eyes darting between your father and your uncle, caught in the tempest of their rage.

“You will leave her be,” Aenys said at last, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Or I will see you destroyed, brother or not.”

For a long moment, Maegor said nothing, his gaze locked on you, the intensity of it searing into your soul. Then, slowly, he inclined his head, a mocking smile twisting his lips.

“As you command, my king.” The words dripped with venom, but he turned away, the promise of something dark and dangerous lingering in the air as he left.

Your father sagged, his hand reaching out to grasp yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. “I’m so sorry.”

You could only nod, the ache in your chest a hollow, aching thing. For in that moment, you knew that Maegor Targaryen was not a man who could be denied forever. He was fire, and fire would always find a way to consume what it desired most.

Aegonfort buzzed with the vibrant energy of your name day celebrations, a festival of color and laughter. Musicians played lively tunes, their melodies weaving through the air, while courtiers and lords offered their congratulations and admiration. It was a day meant for joy, for the lavish display of courtly grandeur, but beneath the surface, tension simmered, a crack in the facade.

King Aenys, your father, had spared no expense in organizing the grand hunt in your honor. Noblemen mounted their steeds, hounds barked eagerly, and the banners of House Targaryen fluttered in the breeze as the hunt began in earnest. You stood beside your mother, Queen Alyssa, her smile warm but her eyes watchful, ever the vigilant protector.

Yet it was not the festive cheer that held your attention; it was the shadow that loomed on the edges of the gathering, the one presence that seemed to darken the day’s radiance. Maegor, your uncle, clad in black armor that gleamed ominously under the sun, was a brooding storm amidst the celebration. His gaze lingered on you, piercing and unrelenting, and it took all your composure to return his stare with a steady, if uncertain, gaze.

He had barely participated in the hunt itself, choosing instead to ride apart from the others, his attention fixed on something far more personal. You could feel it, that coiled tension within him, the intent that hummed like a drawn bowstring. And then he was gone, vanished into the woods, leaving a wake of unease behind him.

Hours passed, and the hunt returned, triumphant. Stags and boars were brought forth, the prizes of the chase, their bodies laid at the king’s feet as an offering to your honor. Applause rang out, voices cheering, but the absence of Maegor’s dark figure loomed over the festivities like a shadow.

Then, like a harbinger of doom, he appeared.

He rode into the courtyard, alone, his horse’s flanks lathered in sweat. Draped over the saddle, still warm and bleeding, was the heart of a great stag, its size and weight staggering. The sight drew gasps from the crowd, the murmurs of celebration turning to hushed whispers of shock and awe.

“For you, niece,” he said, his voice carrying over the stunned silence. He dismounted, lifting the bloody trophy with a strength that seemed almost inhuman. “A gift, to honor your name day.”

The heart, dark and glistening, dripped blood onto the pristine stones of the courtyard as he carried it to you. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes locked on the macabre offering. It was a brutal, savage gift, one that spoke of conquest and possession, of a man willing to tear the heart from the chest of a beast to lay it at your feet.

Queen Alyssa was the first to react, her face paling as she stepped forward, her voice tight with barely concealed horror. “Maegor, what is this madness?”

He ignored her, his gaze fixed on you, a challenge in his eyes. “A stag’s heart, the very symbol of life and power. To hold it in your hands is to understand what it means to conquer, to take what you desire and make it your own.”

Your hands shook as you reached out, hesitating before you touched the still-warm flesh, the blood staining your fingers. You understood the meaning, the dark symbolism of his gift. He was offering you more than a bloody trophy; he was offering his loyalty, his devotion, his savage, unyielding heart.

But your father, King Aenys, would not have it.

“Enough!” His voice cracked like a whip, the command echoing off the stone walls. He stepped forward, his face twisted with fury and disgust. “This is an insult, Maegor! A desecration of my daughter’s name day! How dare you bring such… such barbarity into my court?”

Maegor’s lips curled into a mocking smile, his gaze never wavering from yours. “An insult, brother? This is a gift, a token of my esteem. Or have you forgotten what it means to be Targaryen, to embrace the fire and blood of our heritage?”

“Do not twist our words to justify your depravity!” Alyssa’s voice trembled with rage, her hand gripping your arm as if to shield you from the grotesque spectacle. “This is not the way of things, not in our family, not in our court.”

“And what is our way, then?” Maegor’s voice was a low snarl, the barely restrained fury in it sending a shiver down your spine. “To bow and scrape before the whims of men who do not understand us? To deny the bond that is ours by right of blood, of fire?”

Aenys stepped between you and Maegor, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the gesture more symbolic than threatening. “You will cease this, Maegor. You will leave her be. She is not yours to claim, not now, not ever.”

The air crackled with dread, the crowd holding its breath as the brothers faced each other, the king and the warrior, blood against blood. For a moment, you feared that Maegor might strike, that his rage would explode into violence right there in the courtyard, but then he laughed, a sound devoid of humor, harsh and cold.

“You are a fool, Aenys,” he said, his voice thick with disdain. “You think you can keep her from me, lock her away, and all will be well? She is not a prize to be hidden, not a thing to be kept on a shelf. She is Targaryen, as am I, and we are meant for more than this.”

“Enough!” Aenys roared once more, his face flushed with anger. “You will leave this place, Maegor. Leave now, or I will have you thrown out. I will not tolerate your madness, not on this day, not ever again.”

For a long, tense moment, Maegor stood still, his gaze flickering to you one last time, his eyes dark with something raw and terrible. Then, with a slow, mocking bow, he turned and mounted his horse, the bloody heart still clutched in his hand.

“As you command, brother,” he said, his voice a dangerous purr. “But remember this: I do not forget. I do not forgive.”

And with that, he spurred his horse and rode out of the courtyard, the sound of hooves striking against stone fading into the distance. You watched him go, your heart heavy with a mixture of fear and something you dared not name, the blood on your hands drying as the echoes of the argument lingered in the stillness.

It was the last time you saw him before everything changed, before you were spirited away to Dragonstone, a prisoner in all but name, and Maegor was exiled to the cold, distant lands of Essos. The heart of the stag, the symbol of his twisted devotion, haunted your dreams for years to come, a reminder of what had been offered, and what had been lost.

[nuriiz134]

Irresistible

so um its my first time posting and all. so um i am gonna write ffs (for enhypen only hyung line please) and all like smut and fluffs u can put in ur requests in my dms and and asks. and um thats all and umm i will be writng dual povs um liek if anyone wants to be in my taglist u can just dm me or like just out in asks or reblog whicheevr u want. btw i am like a beginner writer... so there might be errors and stuff smtime may not make sense but please be kind thankk uu

ya'll just wanted to take a moment to appreciate for liking my blog. to everyone. thanksss

summary- jake is your roomate, y/n and jake has a lot of sexual tension between them. after weeks of not trying touch or kiss each other the thin line of resistance breaks and um yeah.

pairing- y/n x jake

warnings- fluff,kissing,groping,ass smacking,making out,cursing (i think thats all let me know if there is more)

genre-romance,fluff

y/n pov and Jake's pov

Y/N pov Our friends left soon later in the day leaving me and Jake alone in the silence of our apartment. These few weeks Jake has been looking irresistible. Our sexual tension just seems to be increasing more day by day its like everytime we are in the room together there is there feeling in the air going around asking for something. I am hella sure Jake is aware of that too. Jake Pov:

"Care for some food?, I am starving." I asked her. She nodded. "I am gonna make us some waffles and fruit okay?" "Ya" I could feel her presence beside as she placed herself to sit on the counter beside me. I could feel her prying eyes on me. oh what I would to see those hazel brown orbs roll back when i fuck her senseless. the effect she has on me. things i would do for and to her. these few weeks have been too hard. the sexual tension. we can't stay in the same room without looking at each other. its been too irresistible. today she looked as enticing as ever in those shorts and that tank top. oh! i want to kiss her all over. i want to kiss her? maybe i will go for it today. one time it won't hurt will it?

I reached out to grab the spatula kept beside her. As I reached over to grab the spatula. I felt the slightest brush of her hands over sending jolts down my spine. fuck my conscience i can't And the next thing I knew I had pulled her by the waist and our lips were inches apart. "You know I can't handle the tension anymore, everytime something happens, you push me away ." "Then don't pull away I ain't pushing you today" she said in the most tantalizing voice ever. And the last string of my conscience tore. I crashed my lips onto hers. I could feel her body arch into mine. As if it was meant to be. Y/n's lips moved in a rhythm with mine hungrily as mine moved with hers. My hands traveled on her body to explore her beauty. I met my eyes with her as if asking for consent. "Can I?" She nodded. She doesn't know what she does to me. She is like a drug to me I had had her.I wanted more of her. I almost moaned at the feeling as her hands slid up my chest and then traveled to the back of my neck as I felt her hands on my neck I groaned softly. I started trailing kisses down her jaw to her neck. As my hands roamed around her body. I softly smacked her ass earning a moan from her. My lips went back to her lips and they fitted together like a piece of puzzle. My tongue asked permission to her mouth for her entrance and she immediately let it enter. My tongue fighting for dominance along with hers as our tongue danced together for the next few minutes. It was like a dream come true. To have her, the most stunning woman in my arms. Her body against mine our chests fitting together perfectly, like an interlocking puzzle piece, and I knew that I had found the perfect partner. Our breathing was heavy as our bodies were pressed against one another. I felt my heart beating fast with passion. I could feel her heartbeat against mine as our lips separated to give each other air. *We looked into each other's eyes and I brushed a few loose strands of her hair behind her ear. Our breathing slowed down and our bodies separated slightly, but my hands still clung to her body. I then leaned my head on her shoulder and I rested on her. My heart was beating loudly and my breaths were still a bit heavy. I felt her hand brush against mine as I wrapped my other arm around her, pulling her closer to me. She snuggled her head onto my chest.* Then suddenly I could feel my phone ring in my pocket breaking us out of our trance. I immediately snapped back to my senses. As I realized what I had done I immediately let go of her. I ran back to my room.

Y/n's pov After he literally ran back to the room and left me on the kitchen counter as a breathing mess. I was flustered after kissing how could he just leave me like that? I don't think it was a mistake. AND HOW COULD HE FUCKING LEAVE ME LIKE THAT?! HE GODFUCKING KISSED ME AND WE MADE OUT AND HE JUST LEFT ME LIKE THAT ON COUNTER AFTER KISSING ME?! HOW COULD THAT JERK. I went back to my room and lied down on my bed. I touched my lips with my hands still tasting his feeling on my lips reminiscing the feeling. I wanted to kiss his soft lips again. The way he ran out I actually thought I did something wrong maybe he is just flustered.

[dramioneasks]

Hi, do you have some ff recommendations which are exclusive on Fanfiction.net and not crossposted on AO3?

my tbr-list is filled with AO3 stories but I'm sure there are some gems on FF.net too :)

Thanks!

On the one hand, I'm like: I came back at the perfect time to answer this question, because FFN got me into fanfiction. It's my first love. But on the other hand, I'm almost exclusively an AO3 reader now (FFN got too spammy).

Your best bet is to honestly just google something you're interested in and see if it's cross-posted. There was a big push a few years ago for authors to move or at least cross-post their fanfiction. And then there's a lot of fans who have moved older stuff over when it looks like the author is no longer active. So googling is the only way to tell.

But I'm happy to share my personal Dramione FFN favorites list, and I'm 100% sure some of our followers will post theirs in the comments.

-Shirlyn

The Request by redhead414 - M, 39 chapters - Astoria was never a fan of Hermione Granger, but pretty soon, she would be gone, and Draco was going to need all the help he could get. Rated M for future chapters.

The Fine Line Between Love and Hate by Short-circuit-Soulmate - M, 30 chapters - The Silver Marauders are the most popular group in school, consisting of Ron, Harry, Blaise and Draco. Hermione is the most unpopular girl in school. Blaise wants to discover the motivation behind Draco's constant bullying of Hermione. AU. Violence. COMPLETE!

Vibrations by Craft Rose - M, 6 chapters - After three years of a mundane, sexless existence and far too much wine, our favourite brunette happens upon the magic equivalent of a sex line. There, an intriguing, deliciously devilish caller manages to pique her interest. It's all fun and anonymous

Wrong Life by camnz - M, 25 chapters - Hermione wakes up in the wrong bed, with the wrong face, and with a husband that hates her.

Crimson with a Silver Lining by Lady Cailan - M, 78 chapters - It is six years since the fall of the Ministry to Voldemort. Those other than purebloods are deemed less than human. When Ginny's daughter ends up in grave danger, Hermione sells herself to the Death Eaters to save her life. Draco/Hermione. Not fluffy.

Burbage High by Charlotte Bird - M, 27 chapters (abandoned) - 14 Years post war, Hermione has become Head of the progressive, yet failing Burbage High. Handling right wing politics is easy, but working out why Malfoy is insisting his son start there in September is not. 10 years spent in Azkaban and 2 years isolated in the muggle world may have changed Draco, but surely not that much? Is something more sinister going on?

Forget Me by Emara88 - M, 26 chapters - The war ended over two years ago, but Hermione still feels the echoes of strange memories from that time, as though something is missing or has been taken from her. When she sees Draco Malfoy at a Ministry ball and collapses, falling into a coma, the truth about their past together is revealed.

Once More with Feeling by Kyonomiko - M, 20 chapters - Sometimes taking a second look can give you a new perspective on someone. Hermione has difficulty analyzing people once she has made up her mind, especially in regards to herself. Circumstances what they are, she might not have a choice but to try again. Dramione EWE. Granger Enchanted Awards 2018 Winner

Who Needs Friends by camnz - M, 47 chapters - Friends prove difficult as Hermione and Blaise start dating, especially his friends. Malfoy is particularly offended by Hermione's presence on the scene.

Simply Irresistible by bookworm1993 - M, 30 chapters - Draco gave a cocky grin. "I am going to give you a makeover." "I'm sorry what?" "You heard me Granger, I'm going to give you a makeover that will make every man want you,and make Weasley die of regret. You will be simply irresistible."

Pride, Image, and Reputation by Fanofbooks.Harry Potter - M, 28 chapters - They hate each other. Plain and simple. But he's Draco Malfoy, and no girl escapes his charm. Even if it is stupidly smart Granger. But what happens when progress is actually made...from both ends, and a certain little bet between friends gets in the way?

Of Kings and Queens by galfoy - M, 26 chapters - Hermione has a bad habit. Draco has a big problem. The universe has one heck of a plan.

Little, Fragile Toys by Bex-chan - M, oneshot - "That incident, their first kiss, always reminded her of a car crash; people often described how they could recall every moment before and every moment after, but the impact itself was lost or hazy, like when you find a new bruise and can't remember where it came from. And Hermione could genuinely remember every detail that followed the impact. Every detail." Dramione. One-shot.

It's All Uncharted by redhead414 - M, 38 chapters - "Are you ready?" she asked. Draco brushed the back of his hand against her forehead before tracing it down her cheek. "I was ready the moment you came back into my life, Granger. Are you ready?" "With you," she whispered, "I'm ready for anything."

It's Just Me by jehszs - M, 32 chapters - After a night of mistaken identity Hermione finds herself unable to stay away from the mystery man from the darkness. How can she stop herself from falling for him when he's doing everything in his power to make her his again? M. HG/DM. Warning: some non-consensual sexual themes

Heir Brained by diagonally - M, 42 chapters (abandoned) - The war witnessed Draco managing his way into the Order's fold & the trio's cramped boundaries. Years later, they are quasi-friends. Does Hermione want more? Want to bet your copy of 'Hogwarts, a History? Flashbacks/action/post HBP

Utterly Despicable by camnz - M, 24 chapters - The death of both Voldemort and Harry Potter let the pureblood elite build the world they wanted. One that leaves Hermione in a vulnerable state, which Draco Malfoy is prepared to take full advantage of.

The Bracelet by AkashaTheKitty - M, 103 chapters - Hermione has everything she could possibly want... Except a life. People are getting sick of her superior attitude, especially Draco Malfoy, who schemes to get her down, once and for all. And then there's the thing with The Bracelet... 7th year AR. COMPLETE SINCE 2009 XD

Forbidden by Darkest Dawn - M, 17 chapters - He hated her...but he would have her. After all: Forbidden fruit always tasted much sweeter. -Being revised-

Sweet Caroline by gingercat0319 - M, 43 chapters - He was rich, single and disgustingly handsome. Learn how a four-year-old will turn his world up-side down. Sequel now posted - My Darling Caroline.

The Passion Of Hate by XorderlyXchaosXnXconfusionX - M, 17 chapters - It's a known fact to the entire population of Hogwarts that Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy hate each other with a passion. But what happens when that passion turns the hate to lust? Winner for He Had It Coming Dramione awards

Valentine Encounter by Kyra4 - T, 24 chapters - READ ME! Draco and Hermione are Head Boy & Girl, but do NOT share a common room and see as little of each other as possible til a fateful encounter on Valentine's night leads to a gradual, reluctant romance. Starts 7th year goes postHogwarts. NOW COMPLETE

Never is a Promise by LoPotter - M, 45 chapters - HrD fic, they're head girl and boy and having an interesting year. June 19! I finally updated! It's been a year, sorry. But here's Chapter 45. Oh nelly :