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gunnerfc · 3 days

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Ours | Jenni Hermoso x Reader x Alexia Putellas (18+) [Tuesday]

Summary: Your girlfriends don’t like how comfortable guys are when it comes to flirting with you but you use it to your advantage to make them jealous

Warnings: bottom reader, top jenni and alexia, strap use (r receiving), strap sucking/throat fucking (& gagging), oral (jenni receiving), jealousy, r being called “good girl,” “bebita,” “whore”, r calling jenni “mommy” and alexia “daddy”, alexia spits in reader’s mouth lol, hair pulling, some drinking, spanking

WC: 2.6k

AN: I didn’t specify which teammates in this fic so this could either be while out with the Spain team or it could be when Jenni played for Barça!

Night After Night masterlist

You giggled as you leaned against the bar, your breathing labored from the dancing. You were out with the team celebrating a big win and you haven’t left the dance floor since you stepped foot in the club. The loud music blared around the packed club, bodies pressed tightly against each other as they danced. It was nice to let go for an evening before jumping back into football.

You signaled for the bartender, quickly ordering your drink before turning to rest your back against the bar. Your eyes landed on the small group of your teammates still sitting down, your focus landing on your girlfriends immediately. You, Jenni, and Alexia have been together for a few years now after the three of you hooked up during a break. You loved being with both of them and couldn’t see yourself with anyone else.

You were pulled from your thoughts when your drink was placed next to you and you quickly turned to thank the bartender. You hummed when you took a sip, the alcohol burning slightly as it went down your throat. You didn’t drink often but you figured why not after the win. You sat your drink down after finishing it just as the space next to you became occupied.

“You come here often,” a male voice shouted over the loud music catching you by surprise. He wasn’t unattractive but given that he wasn’t either of your girlfriends, he wasn’t your type.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the generic line and offered a polite smile, “Yeah,” you yelled back, trying to keep the conversation quick. But you quickly realized it wasn’t going to be when he slid closer to you, as he leaned his side against the bar.

“Damn, I can’t believe I never saw you before. I definitely would have remembered you,” he smirked in a way he thought was attractive but actually wasn’t. You took a deep sigh but before you could respond, the stranger was speaking again.

“You here with anyone? Wanna dance,” he tried to flirt, but his inability to see you were visibly uninterested made you groan to yourself.

“Actually, I am,” you politely smiled once more, your eyes drifting back to where your girlfriends were sitting. Your eyes widened slightly when you found them both glaring at your current interaction. They never were ones to hide their jealousy.

An idea popped into your head when you remembered how they both turned down sex to focus on the big game, leaving you high and dry to pleasure yourself. You smirked as you turned back to the man at the bar, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“But, I don’t think they’ll mind if we have one dance,” you tried to flirt back but it didn’t sound flirtatious at all, not that the stranger could tell the difference. He shared your smirk before offering you a hand, pulling you to the dance floor just as the music changed to something more sensual.

Jenni and Alexia sat with their jaws clenched and arms crossed as your back became flushed with the man’s front, swaying to the beat of the music. They knew you were doing it on purpose as they watched you throw glances their way every so often.

“Y/n looks like she’s having fun,” they heard from the table, though they were too focused on you to care who said it. Alexia’s fists clenched under the table when the man leaned his mouth to your neck, seemingly leaving kisses on your skin.

Alexia was the first to break as she stood up, cursing as she did so. Jenni was quick to follow the midfielder, her angry levels rising with each step they took toward you. Alexia reached her hand out to pull you away from the man you were dancing with, surprising both of you in the process.

“Woah, what’s your problem,” the man, whose name you still didn’t know, growled. Neither Alexia nor Jenni responded, instead sending him a harsh glare as they pulled you to the exit.

He didn’t bother chasing after you, deciding he could find someone else to dance with. You tried your best to hide your smile as your girlfriends pushed you toward the car. Jenni was silent as she opened the back door, her focus on anything but you as Alexia put you in the backseat. Normally, two of you would sit in the back while the third drove, but tonight they left you in the backseat by yourself.

You squeezed your legs together to offer some relief to the growing need between your thighs. The car ride was deadly silent, the car filled with tension that you knew would result in them having their way with you. You swallowed lightly when you arrived back at your shared apartment and your girlfriends pulled you from the car.

The silence was starting to get to you as neither of them spoke the entire elevator ride up. Your breathing picked up when the doors opened to your floor and the three of you made your way down the long hallway. Jenni took her time unlocking the front door, purposely drawing things out to have you squirming.

Jenni pushed the door open before you were pushed inside, Alexia’s hand hitting your ass to move you. You bit back a moan at the feeling of her large hands on your body but quickly entered the apartment, your desire growing rapidly. You shoved your shoes off to make things easier but groaned softly when both Alexia and Jenni took their time removing their shoes and jackets.

“Bedroom, now,” was the first thing Alexia said since you left the club, her jaw locked as she nodded her head in the direction of the bedroom. “And your clothes off by the time we get there,” Jenni finished, her voice more commanding than Alexia’s.

You quickly nodded your head and took off to the bedroom, stripping your clothes the second you were through the door. You threw them to the floor aimlessly and sat on the edge of the bed as you waited for the two of them to join you. You could feel how wet you were as your thighs flexed impatiently. Alexia joined you first, hands carrying bottles of water for you later.

Her eyes shamelessly raked over your body as she sat the bottles down on the dresser in front of the bed. You looked up at her with arousal clouding your vision as you waited for her to touch you. The midfielder raised a hand to move your hair behind your ear before moving to grip your jaw. Your chest moved a bit faster than normal at her touch, your legs tensing ever harder as you grew even wetter.

“You’ve been bad tonight, bebita,” her low voice sent shivers down your spine as she let go of your jaw with a harsh shove.

Jenni joined you just as Alexia took a step back, her eyes doing the same as Alexia’s. They were back to giving you the silent treatment as they shed their clothes, throwing them to join yours on the floor. Your eyes flicked back and forth between them as you checked them out, licking your lips as you took in their muscles. You watched as they made a beeline to the nightstand to pull out two of the bigger straps they had. Your body jerked subconsciously at the thought of them fucking you with them.

“Hands and knees, whore,” Jenni ordered, “your head facing the end of the bed,” she pointed with a raised eyebrow.

You listened to her words as you rushed into the position they wanted you in. Your hands rested right on the edge of the bed as you waited for them to do anything to make you cum. You tried your best to watch them harness the toy around them from the angle you were in but it was no use. Your breath hitched when you were face to face with the large strap on attached to Alexia’s hips.

You felt the bed dip behind you as Jenni joined you, her hands running along your back before stopping on your hips. “You’re already so wet and we haven't even touched you. It’s not from him is it, bebita,” Jenni mocked from behind you when she ran the tip of the strap on through your folds.

You moaned at the feeling before shaking your head. “Answer her properly,” Alexia fumed as she grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

You gulped softly before a small “No Mommy” fell from your lips. Jenni smirked at the lowness of your voice, knowing you were already regretting dancing with the stranger. Without warning, the forward pushed the toy attached to her hips into you until her body was flush with yours. You gasped loudly at the feeling, your hips pushing back against her as best as they could.

Jenni’s tight grip on your hips kept you from moving how you wanted and she stayed buried deep in you without moving for a moment. You whined softly when she refused to move but your whining was cut short when Alexia’s strap was pushed into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you breathed out from your nose that was practically touching Alexia’s abdomen.

Neither of them moved to give you a moment to adjust to the sizes, they might been upset with you but they wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You moved your head back slightly to suck on the toy in your mouth to show you were good, a small gagging noise escaping you.

They both took that as a sign to start moving. Jenni pulled out of you slightly before roughly pushing back in, her hips hitting your body with a small slap. Her grip on your hips tightened as her speed picked up, the strap on that was buried within you hitting deep.

Alexia pulled out of your throat slightly before thrusting it back in, causing you to gag around the toy. Your eyes watered slightly at the feeling but you took it in stride as you held on tightly to the cover beneath your hands. The midfielder's tight hold on your hair kept you where she wanted as she thrust her hips forward.

Being fucked from both ends like this had your head spinning as they both roughly thrust into you. Jenni's strap on roughly hit that familiar spot inside you, earning what sounded like a moan, though with Alexia's strap in your mouth, it sounded muffled. The sounds of your gagging mixed with the lewd sounds of Jenni fucking you echoed around the room making both of them fuck you harder.

You could feel yourself closer to letting go as Jenni railed into you from behind and she knew it based on the way you were pushing against her. “Do you wanna cum, bebita,” Alexia sarcastically chuckled above you as her hips snapped forward. You did your best to nod, another muffled moan fell from your mouth.

Alexia’s strap was roughly pulled from your mouth, earning a small cough as she tilted your head up. You had tears threatening to spill from your eyes and saliva coating your lips when your eyes met hers, earning a big smirk from the midfielder. “I said, do you wanna cum,” she mocked with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-yes, daddy! Wanna cum so bad, please,” you cried as Jenni’s hips snapped against yours. A loud moan fell freely from your mouth this time as your head hung and your arms wobbled.

“You’re such whore,” Alexia laughed sarcastically as she lifted your head with the grip she had on your hair. She ran her thumb along your bottom lip before pushing the digit into your mouth for you to suck. Before you could really comply, she pulled her thumb from your mouth but forced your mouth open.

She leaned down some before spitting in your mouth, “swallow,” she ordered and you quickly listened. She smirked to herself at how well you listened before her lips were on yours, easily winning dominance over you. You did your best to maintain the kiss but with Jenni roughly fucking you, it was hard to not moan.

“Be a good girl and cum,” Jenni demanded from behind you as her hips stuttered slightly as she watched you make out with Alexia. It didn’t take long before you pulled out of the kiss and a loud whiny moan fell from your lips as you came on her strap. Jenni’s hips didn’t stop as she fucked you through your orgasm, pulling you closer to a second before pulling out.

You whined at the loss of contact from both of them and you were pulled to sit up on your knees. Jenni turned your head to lock lips with you, her tongue entering your mouth to explore as her hands ran up the front of your body. You moaned into the kiss when her hands groped your breasts, pulling at your hardened nipples before she broke the kiss.

Jenni quickly unharnessed the toy around her waist that was now covered in your cum and threw it to the floor. She made herself comfortable against the pillows at the head of the bed as her legs spread. “Be a good little whore and make mommy cum,” she said with a shaky breath, fucking you brought her close to an orgasm.

You listened as you turned to lay between her thighs, your hands hooking around them as you licked slowly up her dripping folds. The forward’s head fell back as she tangled her hands in your hair, her hips rolling against your face as you kept your mouth on her. You felt Alexia’s large hands grab your hips, pulling your lower half up to rest on your knees as she ran a finger through your still soaked cunt.

You moaned into Jenni, sending vibrations coursing through her body and earning a low groan from her. You moaned again when you felt Alexia thrust her strap into you until she bottomed out. She didn’t waste any time before her hips were snapping against yours, once again hitting that familiar spot. You sucked harshly on Jenni’s sensitive clit as Alexia’s hand slapped your ass, the sound of her hand hitting your skin filling the room.

You kept your movements steady as Alexia fucked you and occasionally spanking you, the room feeling hotter than ever. Jenni’s hips rolled up and faltered as she was close to letting go, your mouth and chin soaked with her cum. You toppled over the edge when Alexia landed a particularly rough spank to your ass and you moaned loudly into Jenni’s core, bringing her over the edge with you.

Alexia pulled her strap from you before she took it off and threw it to join Jenni’s on the floor. Jenni let go of your hair as she stared up at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath. You were once again pulled up to rest on your weak knees as Alexia’s lips were on yours once again. The midfielder moaned at the taste of Jenni on your lips before she pulled back to reach for one of the bottles of water behind her.

“Drink up, bebita. We aren't done with you, yet,” she smirked as she handed you the bottle.

You took a few sips before handing it back to her and let your girlfriends guide you into whatever position they wanted you in. You might have regretted dancing with the guy at the club at first but as your girlfriends made you cum multiple times that night, you were glad you did it. Even if it meant you were sore and could hardly walk the next morning.

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #espwnt x reader #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 day

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♥︎ The Way I Am ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing ♥︎ fiance!seonghwa x gn!makeup artist!reader

♥︎ Genre ♥︎ fluff/angst

♥︎ Summary ♥︎ Your fiance's been successfully keeping his love of makeup hidden from you. That is until you come home early from a trip and find him using your things. Your reaction is (of course ♥︎) the exact opposite of what he feared.

♥︎ Word Count ♥︎ 1.6kish

♥︎ Warnings ♥︎ Hwa does express his worries about being vulnerable with his identity so if that's sensitive to you that's super important to note. Other than that, nothing. Just fluff and reassurance ♥︎

♥︎ A/N ♥︎ I hope that if you're reading this and you feel nervous about expressing your gender identity out of fear that people won't accept you, you know that you're totally worthy of love and acceptance no matter what. Love you ♥︎

"'Cause I love you more than I could ever promise and you take me the way I am" - Ingrid Michaelson (The Way I Am)

Seonghwa hopes that you don’t notice. A few drops of foundation here. A swipe or two of eyeliner there. Maybe some lipstick or blush if he’s feeling adventurous. He wishes he had the courage to ask you to do this for him. You’re the most talented makeup artist he’s ever met. Watching you work is like art. How wonderful it’d be to bare the most vulnerable part of himself to you. To be your lover and your canvas. But every time he tries to open up the fear creeps in and the words won’t come out.

So this is the way it is—the way it’ll always have to be. Your wedding’s less than a month away and the thought that he might lose you makes his soul ache. He can’t risk losing you. He won’t risk losing you.

Tonight he’s raided your makeup supplies for everything necessary to create the soft, romantic look of his dreams. With the warm air of a summer night blowing through the bedroom window and Spotify’s best Taylor Swift mix blasting in his over-ear headphones, the vibe couldn't be more perfect.

He’s been like this for at least an hour, seated at your vanity trying to get his foundation to match. You have every shade imaginable but none are what he wants. And mixing them? Well—

“Fuck” Seonghwa huffs, staring at his reflection, frustration and two pale layers of foundation painted all over his face. He scans the meticulously organized desk for the makeup wipes and gets to work cleaning it off. It takes everything in him not to throw something but he manages to suppress his violent urges long enough to pick up a brush again.

Thank god he has all night to do this. You won’t be home from your trip until tomorrow afternoon. By then he’ll have put everything back in its place and you’ll never know a thing. At least that’s the way things were meant to go but the unexpected glimmer of your reflection lingering by the bedroom door destroys that in an instant.

You thought it’d be sweet to surprise Seonghwa by coming home early. The event you were hired for had been canceled and you always missed each other so much. You figured it only made sense to come back home. You even stopped at his favorite takeout spot on the way from the airport to pick up dinner.

No one’s ever come close to treating you with as much love and care as Seonghwa has. Everything he does makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Just glancing down at the sparkly ring on your finger is enough to make your face light up. Any chance you have to make him feel the same way isn’t one you’re willing to pass up.

But, for the first time since you met, his face doesn’t light up at the sight of you. It darkens as if the world has ended and you can’t help but feel like you’re the one who ended it.

“Hwa—” you sigh softly, approaching the vanity where he sits nearly catatonic. Tears collect in the corner of his deep brown eyes, his fingers beginning to shake around the makeup brush. “It’s okay” you promise, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. Seonghwa pulls away from you, tearing the headphones off of his head. His dark hair hangs in his face giving him a safe place to hide from the disappointment he knows is waiting for him if he dares meet your gaze.

Only there isn’t any...

This isn’t what you expected to come home to but it’s far from a surprise for you. One of the things you always loved about Seonghwa was how comfortable he seemed to be in his own skin. While other guys saw every little thing as a threat to their masculinity, he treated femininity as something beautiful. You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve wanted to do his makeup. Those eyes. Those lips. That killer bone structure. He’s perfect for that kind of thing. You wish now more than ever that you’d said something.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t—I’m just—I’m so sorry” he mumbles, choking back tears. You outstretch your arms to wrap him in a hug but he slips away again, rushing to the closet to grab his gym bag. “Hwa, what are you doing? Can you stop for a second? Please?” you beg, following him around the room as he blindly tosses things into the bag.

You’ve never felt more invisible. Your words fall on deaf ears and each time you reach out to touch him he recoils. Seonghwa grabs his phone from the dresser, snatching free of the grip you have on the sleeve of his shirt. This is his worst nightmare. In the blink of an eye he lost everything, he’s convinced of that. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do. All he can think to do is run.

“You can’t do this!” you shout, trailing him down the hallway, “You have to talk to me!”

Seonghwa breathes in, beyond pissed off at the few tears that manage to escape. “I have to leave. I have to—to protect you.”

Hearing the pain in his voice, you nearly trip on your luggage to throw yourself in front of the door. “Is it to protect me? Or to protect yourself?”

That stops him in his tracks, his foot already halfway into a pair of sneakers. Who’s he running away for really? It’s a question that only makes the pounding in his head worse. He knows that you love him. You tell him every morning, even when you’re apart, how special he is to you. You’re begging him to stay but he can’t. He can’t. Why can’t he?

“Move please” he asks, his hand tight around the doorknob.

You fold your arms across your chest, back pressed to the door, “No.”

“Move…please” his voice is deeper this time, the request sounding more like a demand.

Slipping your hands beneath the curtain of jade hair, you rest them on cheeks that burn hot enough to heat your palms. Your fingers are stained with tears and what makeup remains on his cheeks. “I love you so much” you whisper, refusing to let him get away this time, “I need you to look at me.”

You hold your breath in the silence that follows, exhaling only when his mascara smeared eyes meet yours. “I. Love. You. So. Much” you say but slower this time, putting emphasis on every word. Your heart breaks for him, for how terrified you can tell he’s been of this happening.

You raise one of your hands to show him the makeup covering it. “I don’t care about this, Hwa. I care about you.” The faint smile on your face speaks of comfort, a truly safe place for him to be if he wants it. His hand falls away from the doorknob as he lets the gym bag hit the floor with a thud.

“I would’ve told you before but I…” he pauses to summon the courage to go on, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore.” You let out a sigh of relief at the sensation of his arms easing around your waist. He holds you so tightly that you’d swear you were the one trying to run away.

“Oh, my love. I wish you could meet yourself so you’d know how amazing you are” you sniffle, only now noticing the trickling of your own tears. “I want to be with you—all of you—whatever that looks like.”

Seonghwa uses his hands to wipe away your tears, leaving them tinted in the light makeup you threw on before your flight. “And see, we’re twins now” you giggle, desperate to lighten the mood. Seonghwa stares at you longingly, the light gradually reigniting behind his eyes. “I love you too” he smiles, his lips brushing yours, “So much.”

He kisses you in the most innocent way and it’s like your first kiss all over again. Packed with nerves and excitement that melt away the longer you linger here. It’ll take some time to fade—the fear of being vulnerable—but it will fade and you’ll be there for it all.

“Will you help me fix it?” he asks, nervously fidgeting with the waist of your paints, “You don’t have to but I have a picture on my phone and—” You cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything more, “Of course I’ll help you. Shower first though?” Seonghwa suddenly becomes hyper aware of the slight mess on his hands—in his hair—on both of your clothes. “I’d really like that.”

Kissing him on the forehead, you push his hair back to get a good look at him, “We’re doing dreamy summer vibes? Something soft?”

“How’d you know that?”

“I don’t know” you shrug, “Maybe I’m just that good. You were also going super hard on the Taylor Swift so I kinda assumed. Just blasting. I didn’t know it was that real for you.”

“Shut up” he laughs, squeezing you so tight you can’t breathe.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry!” you giggle, trying to get away. But he won’t let you. Instead he lays his head on your shoulder, willing to tolerate being a total mess for a bit longer if it means holding you. The way that things have been...it doesn’t have to be like that now.

And it never will be again.

#ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x gn reader #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa angst

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erwinsvow · 3 days

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imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol

you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.

"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."

you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.

hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.

the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.

you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.

you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.

footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.

you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.

"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.

heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.

when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.

"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.

you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.

#i actually dont like writing much angst so sorry if this sucks #this ask has been here for so long and i knew i could do something with it i just couldnt place it yet #<3 i love u jj #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 13 hours

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The Alchemy

AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.

Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift

CW: Smut

Word Count: 6,871

Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.

It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.

Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.

Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.

Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows.

Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."

I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye.

"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script."

Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."

As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.

"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."

Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."

I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."

She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."

Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.

"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.

As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.

Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me.

I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength.

I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore.

Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.

Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head.

For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer.

That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.

As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.

"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."

I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.

But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."

Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.

The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.

Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.

"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."

I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response.

"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt.

Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement.

"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"

His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state.

"Cat got your tongue?" He teased.

I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt.

Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.

"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality.

"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class.

My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.

I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.

I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:

"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H

I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.

I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.

I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.

After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.

I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.

Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.

I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.

His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.

I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.

The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.

I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.

Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.

As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.

By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.

Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.

I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous.

"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy.

Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked.

I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me.

"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously.

Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.

I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly.

Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.

Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me.

I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field.

As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.

At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return.

In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.

As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.

"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.

"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.

"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.

Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game.

I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights.

"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly.

I tilted my head. "Why's that?"

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."

Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions.

"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly.

Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...

But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise.

Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out."

He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.

As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.

A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.

As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.

Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."

I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."

Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."

He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.

"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."

I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."

Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."

We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.

I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.

Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.

The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.

Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore.

"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.

Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.

"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.

My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.

Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.

Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.

Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”

As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.

Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.

"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."

He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.

I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.

"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.

Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .

"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me.

My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.

"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts.

I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.

My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."

"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.

My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.

"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."

I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.

My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.

And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.

He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.

But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened.

As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."

I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate.

"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."

He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.

"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.

As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.

We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.

"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.

I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.

"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.

I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.

"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.

I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."

He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.

My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.

"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.

A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.

Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.

Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago.

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.

As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.

The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.

Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.

His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.

The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.

I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.

Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.

One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.

I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.

Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.

He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.

Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.

"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.

"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."

Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.

“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.

“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”

The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.

I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.

The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.

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fanficapologist · 3 days

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Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Seventy-Six

In the late afternoon, just outside of Harrenhall, a small lavender field bloomed in all its glory. The air was infused with the delicate fragrance of lavender, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled through the rows of purple blooms. Bees buzzed lazily from flower to flower, collecting nectar as the sun cast a warm golden hue over the scene. The lavender plants stood tall and proud, their slender stems adorned with clusters of vibrant purple flowers that swayed gracefully in the breeze. Each bloom seemed to dance in the sunlight, their petals glistening with dewdrops from the morning's light rain.

As Maera walked with Ser Arryk through the flowers, the late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the scene, illuminating the rows of purple blooms. With a basket in hand, they strolled leisurely along the fragrant pathways, surrounded by the soothing scent of lavender. Just an hour before, Maera had visited Maester Cain to check on her pregnancy, relieved to hear that all was progressing as it should. The Maester had assured her that the babe was growing steadily and that there were no signs of complications.

He had recommended using lavender oil for its soothing properties and to promote relaxation, which had led Maera to decide on a walk to the lavender field. Wandering among the flowers, Maera plucked a few stems of lavender, carefully placing them in her basket whilst chatting animatedly to her protector about the morning’s meeting.

"You should have seen her face," she chuckled to the knight, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Not a single soul in the room supported her idea of sending me back to the capital."

Ser Arryk's smile mirrored Maera's joy as he listened to her recount the events. "Would it be too bold of me to suggest that the Prince has finally grown a pair?" he quipped sarcastically, his tone teasing.

Maera gasped in mock astonishment, playing along with the banter. "Why, yes, Ser, I do believe it would be," she replied with exaggerated surprise, a playful glint in her eyes.

"Then I shall refrain from saying it," Ser Arryk declared with a laugh, the sound echoing through the tranquil surroundings as the two shared a moment of lighthearted camaraderie.

As Maera bent down to pick another stem of lavender, she was interrupted by Ser Arryk's voice, his tone suddenly serious. "Princess," he uttered, his gaze fixed on something across the field.

Puzzled, Maera straightened up, her hand instinctively resting on her growing bump as she followed her protector's gaze. Across the field, she spotted Alys amidst the blossoms, her figure hunched over as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Good, Maera thought. For all the pain and suffering the witch had caused, finally it was being reflected back to her. And yet… the Princess was unsure if it was due to her own pregnant state, or concern for the child within Alys’s womb, but something compelled her to go over to her.

With Ser Arryk close by her side, she called out to the weeping witch, her firm voice cutting through the somber air. "Do not cry so, Alys," she urged, her steps careful as she navigated through the fragrant lavender blooms. "It is not good for the child."

When Maera finally reached Alys's side, she observed the tears upon the witch's reddened face, her gaze drifting down to the prominent swell of Alys's pregnancy bump beneath her faded green dress. Despite her emotional state, Alys offered a quiet acknowledgment of Maera's presence with a subdued "Princess."

Sensing the tension in the air, Maera broke the awkward silence, her tone both empathetic and assertive. "You're upset because of the meeting this morning," she observed, her words carrying a subtle hint of triumph. "The Lords and my husband would never have supported your idea. My place is by my husband's side, and that will never change."

Although it may have been somewhat cruel to confront Alys so directly, Maera knew it was necessary to assert her position. However, when Alys remained silent in response, Maera sighed softly, her expression softening with a hint of compassion. "How are you faring? The child, I mean," she inquired, gesturing delicately towards Alys's swollen stomach, her concern genuine despite their strained relationship.

The witch wiped her eyes on her sleeve before offering a subdued reply, her voice tinged with weariness. "The Maester says a few more weeks, then he will be here."

Maera couldn't help but roll her eyes at Alys's insistence on referring to her unborn child as a "he," knowing full well that such knowledge couldn't possibly be accurate. The delusion stemming from Alys's supposed prophecies frustrated Maera to no end. The witch then attempted to stand but struggled due to her advanced pregnancy. Maera glanced at Ser Arryk, his hazel eyes staring back at her as they exchanged a knowing look. Despite her reservations, Maera nodded, and the knight stepped forward, offering his arm to help the heavily pregnant witch to her feet.

As Alys rose to her feet, she gestured towards the field of lavender surrounding them, her voice carrying a tone of authority. "The lavender will help you ward off any infections and prepare you for the pain of labor," she advised Maera, her hand instinctively moving to her own swollen belly. "At this stage, the plant is also known to induce labor. At least it did for my other children."

Maera and Alys began to walk side by side among the fragrant flowers, Ser Arryk steadfastly at Maera's side. Despite the unusual camaraderie between the women for the moment, there lingered an unspoken tension between the princess and her protector, both sharing suspicions about the witch's intentions, even in her current state of distress.

As they walked through the lavender field, Maera couldn’t help but inhale deeply, the scent of lavender reminding her of the birthing rituals her stepmothers performed using the flowers. Memories of Rain House flooded her mind—the stormy weather, the laughter of her younger siblings echoing through the halls. Despite the turmoil of war, Maera longed for the comfort of her family’s home. She made a silent vow to visit them once the conflict had ended, curious to see how her younger siblings would react to her dragon companion.

Lost in her thoughts, Maera momentarily forgot about Alys's presence beside her until she re-focused on their conversation. It occurred to her that Alys had been a wet-nurse, but she hadn't made the connection that the woman was also a mother herself. Alys didn't strike Maera as a maternal figure, so she found herself curious about her companion's experience with motherhood.

In an effort to ease the awkward atmosphere, Maera initiated conversation. "How many children do you have?" she inquired, her voice softening with genuine curiosity.

A note of sadness crept into Alys's reply as she spoke of her past. "I had four," she confessed, her gaze momentarily clouded with sorrow. "But none of them lived. Each were stillborn."

The weight of Alys's words hung heavily in the air, stifling further conversation. It was Alys who eventually broke the silence, her voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "You are most fortunate, Princess," she remarked sadly.

Maera's response was swift, her frustration evident in her retort. "Fortunate?" she scoffed, her head shaking in disbelief. "I am here walking with my husband's whore, who is also carrying his child. How is that fortunate?" Her words dripped with bitterness as she grappled with the complex emotions swirling within her.

"You are high-born," Alys declared, her demeanor unwavering despite Maera's evident disdain. "Your child will receive the best care and live a healthy life." Maera remained silent as the witch pressed on, her tone taking on a softer, more contemplative quality. "Your status gives you power, Princess," she insisted, her gaze steady as she met Maera's eyes.

With a resigned sigh, Maera admitted, "It is a gilded cage," her hand drifting instinctively to her pregnancy bump as the child within stirred.

As they walked, Alys came to a sudden halt, causing Maera to pause and regard her with curiosity. "Low-born women have little options, particularly bastards," Alys explained, her words tinged with a hint of bitterness. "You do not have to sell your body or talents to gain some semblance of power. It is born within you."

This was true- low-born women had few prospects in life, often at the mercy of their circumstances. And though Alys spoke of lack of power, her words struck a chord with Maera, but in a different way than perhaps intended.

Despite her highborn status, Maera had felt utterly powerless in the face of Alys’s manipulation and promise of prophecy. The witch’s influence, bolstered by her supposed visions, had cast a shadow over Maera’s life, leaving her feeling vulnerable and disregarded by her own husband. It was a bitter realization that even those with privilege could be at the mercy of those who wielded power in subtler ways.

While she could understand the challenges Alys had faced, she refused to let the witch’s victimhood diminish her judgment of Alys’s character. The resentment and mistrust Maera harbored for Alys ran deep, and no amount of sympathy for her past could erase the harm she had caused.

"I have never felt more powerless in my life than being here," Maera sneered, her frustration palpable.

Alys chuckled softly, her laughter tinged with a hint of irony. "You wish to talk of powerlessness?" she retorted, her gaze unwavering. "I came to be because a Lord of House Strong raped my mother." Maera blinked in surprise at Alys's revelation, her resolve faltering slightly in the face of the witch's vulnerability. Yet Alys pressed on, her voice filled with quiet determination. "My children came to be because the Lords of House Strong forced themselves upon me too.”

The Princess froze, that familiar sense of dread gnawing at her insides. It was a sensation she knew all too well—the icy grip of fear that tightened her chest and sent shivers down her spine. Memories of her own encounter with Aegon came flooding back, vivid and unwelcome—the crushing weight of Aegon's strength as he pinned her down, the sound of her own desperate pleas falling on deaf ears, and the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that had consumed her.

Glancing at Ser Arryk, Maera was reminded of the pivotal role he had played in her life. It was his intervention that had saved her from a fate she dared not imagine. The witch’s declaration hit home and Maera began to struggle to maintain her composure, her fingers nervously tracing the edge of her cloak as she listened to Alys’s anguished confession.

"But that was not the worst of it," Alys continued, her voice thick with emotion. "After losing each of my babies, I was forced to feed the nobles' children," Alys revealed, her tone heavy with anguish. "You cannot imagine the pain. How your body cries out for its child while you provide their milk to a stranger in your arms!"

The story Alys painted was too difficult to even think about. The love Maera already felt for her unborn child surged within her, and the thought of losing that child whilst having to care for another was crushing. Despite her loathing of the witch , Maera couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the woman before her.

The intensity of her own pregnancy had perhaps softened her resolve, allowing her to recognise that they both had something in common- they loved their children. Tears threatened to spill from Maera's eyes as she struggled to maintain her composure, her lips pressed tightly together in a silent show of strength.

Rubbing her stomach tenderly, the witch continued, her voice trembling with raw emotion. "The Gods promised me a child one day, a child of great importance. And here he is, almost ready to be born." Her gaze locked with Maera's, burning with a fierce intensity. "But the Gods' path is being desecrated, and I fear I will lose another child."

"Enough," the Princess interjected firmly, her voice cutting through the emotional turmoil.

Maera was no monster. The struggles and hardships Alys had endured were undeniable, and it was clear that she had fought tooth and nail to ascend to her current position of power. Maera couldn’t help but sympathize with the pain and desperation that must have driven Alys’s actions. The child in her belly was innocent as well, and had not asked for any of this. The babe was probably like a beacon of hope to the witch, her chance to a mother once again.

However, Maera also recognized the inherent danger in Alys’s lack of attachment to what was happening around her. With nothing left to lose, Alys posed a significant threat, capable of unpredictable and potentially destructive behavior. And as dreadful as everything Alys had been through must have been, it did not excuse what she had done and the choices she made.

And though moved by Alys’s story, Maera remained steadfast in her determination to assert her own position of authority, not only for herself but also for the sake of her trueborn child. She couldn’t afford to appear weak or vulnerable, especially in the face of someone as unpredictable as a witch.

"Your child is a bastard, nothing will change that. My husband will not legitimize them, nor give them the dragon egg we found." Alys swallowed a sob, her features contorted in a mixture of grief and resignation. Maera let out a heavy sigh, her own heart weighed down by the weight of the conversation. "But your child will be provided for, and never go hungry or sick," she promised, her voice softening with empathy as she placed a comforting hand on Alys's arm. "I swear this to you." The witch did not reply, instead sniffling and nodding in response, acknowledging the Princess’s vow to her.

As Alys and Maera reached the end of the lavender field, the tension between them lingered in the air, but there was a newfound complexity to their dynamic. Alys offered a small curtsy before they parted ways, leaving behind a sense of unresolved tension mingled with a hint of mutual understanding. Walking with her basket of lavender and Ser Arryk by her side, Maera found herself reflecting on her conversation with Alys. Despite the lingering tension, Maera couldn't deny that she now had a deeper insight into what drove the witch's actions, and to comprehend the motivations of one’s enemy was a valuable insight.

On that quiet night at Harrenhall, the castle seemed to hold its breath, enveloped in a serene stillness that draped over the ancient stone walls like a comforting blanket. The moon hung high in the sky, its soft silver light filtering through the windows to cast gentle patterns on the polished floors. Within the chambers, the air was hushed, disturbed only by the faint crackle of the dwindling hearth and the occasional rustle of fabric as the night breeze whispered through the curtains. Shadows danced silently across the walls, painting fleeting images that seemed to sway with the rhythm of the night.

Nestled against her husband’s chest, Maera’s breathing was slow and steady, her features softened in the gentle glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. Aemond’s arm draped around her, offering both warmth and security, as if he were a steadfast shield against the uncertainties of the world. Beneath the surface, the child in Maera’s belly seemed to rest as well, its movements gentle and subdued, lulled by the soothing rhythm of its mother's heartbeat. In that moment, all was calm and still, as if the world itself had paused to catch its breath.

As the peaceful silence of the night enveloped the chamber, it was abruptly shattered by a sudden commotion echoing from the corridor outside. The tranquil atmosphere was shattered by the clamor of men shouting, the sharp sound of blades being unsheathed, and the resounding banging against the heavy wooden door.

Aemond's senses sharpened in an instant, his instincts roused by the unexpected disturbance. With a jolt, he sat bolt upright in bed, his movements swift and decisive. The sudden motion startled Maera awake, her eyes snapping open in alarm as she grasped the gravity of the situation. In the dim light of the chamber, Aemond's hand darted beneath the bed, fingers closing around the hilt of his sword with practiced ease. With a determined grip, he withdrew the weapon, the glint of steel reflecting the urgency etched on his features.

Wide-eyed and alert, Maera shifted closer to Aemond, her heart pounding in her chest as they both fixed their gaze on the door, anticipation mounting with each passing second. The sound of running footsteps drawing nearer only served to heighten the tension, their presence an ominous harbinger of the danger lurking just beyond the threshold.

With a thunderous crash, the door burst open, sending Maera's heart into a frantic rhythm as she braced herself for whatever threat awaited on the other side. Relief washed over her as she recognized Ser Arryk's familiar figure entering the chamber, his presence momentarily easing the tension coiled within her.

“My apologies my Prince, Princess. But we have a situation.”

Her breath caught in her throat as Maera listened intently to Ser Arryk's words, the gravity of the situation dawning upon her with each passing moment. The panic etched on the knight's face and the urgency in his voice shattered the fleeting sense of relief, signaling that something was gravely amiss.

Without hesitation, Aemond sprang into action, his movements swift and purposeful as he hastily donned his tunic, pants, and boots. With sword in hand, he wasted no time in leaving the room, his departure leaving Maera with a sense of helplessness as she watched him vanish into the darkness beyond.

Restless and unsettled, Maera found herself unable to find solace in sleep after the harrowing interruption to their peaceful night. With a heavy sigh, she slipped out of bed, the soft fabric of her nightgown enveloping her as she moved with a sense of urgency. Pulling on her black robe for warmth, she made her way to the hearth, drawn to the comforting glow of the dwindling flames.

With a furrowed brow, Maera tended to the fire, adding more wood to stoke the flames and bring renewed warmth to the room. As the crackling fire grew brighter, Maera settled into a chair before the hearth, her thoughts consumed by the tumultuous events unfolding outside their door. Anxiety gnawed at her insides as she contemplated the cause of the commotion that had shattered the tranquility of their night. The uncertainty weighed heavily on her mind, fueling a sense of unease that refused to be quelled by the flickering flames before her.

Maera’s gaze drifted to the iron pot nestled next to the flames, cradling the large black and green dragon egg above the hot coals. The sight of the egg, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, stirred a mix of hope and trepidation within her heart. She pondered the uncertain fate of the egg as half of them never hatch, she reminded herself, a sobering reality that tempered her optimism.

Alys’s vision of Aemond’s future son as a dragon rider lingered in her mind, casting a shadow of doubt over the true meaning behind the prophecy. Why would Alys’s child, this supposed son, be the great rider of a dragon? The ambiguity of the vision only added to the uncertainty surrounding their situation. A sense of dread crept over Maera as she contemplated the tangled web of fate and prophecy that seemed to entwine their lives. With Alys’s impending childbirth looming on the horizon, she knew the complexities of their situation would only intensify in the days to come.

“Ooof!”

A sudden sharp kick from the child in her stomach jolted her out of her reverie. She gasped, hand instinctively flying to her belly, before a smile spread across her face as she remembered the source of the sensation. The child’s movements were becoming more pronounced, and Maera couldn’t help but marvel at the tiny feet that seemed to press against her skin from within.

Beneath the fabric of her nightgown, the outline of the child’s movements was visible, a gentle swell indicating each kick. Maera tenderly stroked the spot where the child made its presence known.

“It’s ok. We’re ok,” she whispered, unsure if she was trying to calm the unborn babe, herself, or both. Her gaze shifted to the door, her heart heavy with worry and anticipation. With each passing moment, the uncertainty of the situation outside weighed heavily on her mind.

After some time, the Prince returned, his face etched with rage, causing Maera’s heart to clench with concern. Reacting instinctively, she rose from her chair and moved to his side, reaching out to grasp his arms as he held hers. Their connection was palpable, a silent reassurance amidst the tumultuous emotions swirling around them.

“What has happened?” she inquired softly, her voice laced with apprehension.

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with restrained anger. “When you patrolled today, did you see anything out of the ordinary along the border?” he questioned, his tone clipped with urgency.

Maera furrowed her brow in concentration, mentally retracing her steps from earlier. She remembered the tranquility of the Riverlands beneath them as they flew, Ēbrion seemingly at ease without any signs of imminent danger or threats. She remembered the lush green trees, towering mountains and the cloudy sky. On the ground, she remembered tiny dots, which she assumed were people, going about their day. Families travelling, or merchants transporting goods, just as usual.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aemond nodded curtly before pulling away from Maera's touch, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the hearth. "More of my cunt sister's rats," he muttered under his breath, his words heavy with disdain.

Sensing her husband's agitation, Maera's nerves heightened, her hand instinctively drifting to her pregnant belly. "Aemond, what is going on?" she pressed, her voice trembling with worry.

The Prince turned to face her, his features hardened with resolve. "Men have broken into Harrenhall, planning to assassinate us," he revealed, his tone low and ominous.

Her heart stopped. Fear gripped Maera’s heart like icy tendrils as the gravity of the situation sank in. Men had dared to threaten her husband's life, her own life and by extension, their child's. In that moment, fear and protective instinct surged within Maera. Her own safety took a backseat as her maternal instincts roared to life.

She felt an overwhelming sense of dread for her child's well-being, a fierce determination to shield their unborn babe from harm at any cost. The gravity of the situation sank in, and she swallowed hard, struggling to find her voice amidst the chaos of her thoughts.

"It seems my uncle prefers dishonorable schemes rather than an honest death on the battlefield," Aemond growled bitterly, his fists clenched at his sides as he looked into the flames of the hearth.

With a fierce gleam in her emerald eyes, Maera confronted her husband, her voice laced with tenacity. "Where are they now?" she demanded, her tone sharp and commanding.

Aemond's expression darkened, bitterness coloring his words as he responded, "The guards are escorting them down to the dungeons," he explained, his gaze fixated on the dancing flames before him. "They will be dealt with on the morrow.”

Her resolve unwavering, Maera shook her head adamantly, her determination shining through. "No," she declared firmly, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. Aemond snapped his head up to look at her, confusion etched across his sharp face.

Summoning her strength, Maera closed the distance between them, her gaze never wavering. "Order everyone to wake. We will deal with them now. Together," she commanded, her voice unwavering.

Aemond's gaze softened as he looked at his wife, a silent understanding passing between them. He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear before his hand came to rest on her pregnant belly. With a nod of agreement, he turned and strode purposefully out of the room. As her husband departed, Maera rang for her maid, her mind already racing with plans and preparations for what lay ahead.

At the hour of the bat, the once-quiet halls of Harrenhall were abruptly filled with the clamor of hurried footsteps and anxious voices. Every inhabitant, roused from their slumber, was summoned to the main hall by urgent decree, the echo of worried chatter reverberating off the cold, stone walls.

In the flickering light cast by the hearth, a large table was hastily brought forth and positioned at the center of the hall. Seated around it were the members of the war council, their faces drawn with tension and anticipation. At the head of the table sat Maera and Aemond, both clad in resplendent attire of black leather, their expressions stern and unwavering.

The attention of the room was fixed upon the three figures bound in chains, positioned in the middle of the hall under the watchful gaze of armed guards. These men, their faces masked by shadows, were the would-be assassins who had dared to threaten the lives of the Prince and Princess. Despite their predicament, they maintained an air of defiance, their eyes meeting those of Maera and Aemond with a mixture of fear and resentment.

Rising from his seat at the end of the table, the man who had supported Maera in a number of council meetings, Lord Unwin Peake, addressed the assembled crowd with authority. "My Lords and Ladies, people of Harrenhall," he began, his voice carrying across the hall. "There has been a threat to the lives of our Prince and Princess."

With measured steps, Lord Unwin moved to stand beside the first man, kneeling and isolated from the others. He pointed accusatorily. "This man broke into the castle a few hours ago, with the intent of assassination," he declared, his words echoing in the hushed hall.

Then, gesturing towards the two men shackled together, Lord Unwin continued, his voice unwavering. "And these two were waiting for his return on the other side of the Gods Eye, prepared to assist the would-be killer in his escape."

The room erupted into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs as Maera's gaze swept over the trio of assailants, her expression a mix of anger and disbelief. As the clamor subsided, the Lord of House Butterwell rose from his seat, his voice laced with skepticism. "How do we know this was their intention?" he challenged, his words met with murmurs of agreement from some of the onlookers.

It was then that Ser Arryk, the stalwart knight, stepped forward, holding up a small scroll for all to see. The crowd fell silent as they awaited his revelation, tension hanging thick in the air. Ser Arryk presented the parchment to Aemond, who accepted it with a tight grip, his expression darkening with each passing moment. "A written order, in Prince Daemon’s own handwriting. I know it well," Ser Arryk declared loudly, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere of the room.

Aemond's gaze remained fixed on the scroll as he silently read its contents, his breath quickening with each passing word. Maera, sensing his distress, leaned in closer, her voice laced with concern. "What does it say?" she asked, her eyes searching his face for answers. When he didn't respond, she pressed further, her tone growing more urgent. "Aemond?"

Ignoring her, Aemond pushed the scroll away, his jaw clenched with barely contained rage. Without a word to her, he moved to address the assassins, but before he could speak, Maera rose from her seat with a determined expression. The scrape of her chair against the floor echoed through the hall as she reached for the scroll, her hands shaking slightly with emotion.

Unfurling the scroll, Maera read its contents aloud, her voice steady despite the horror of the words she spoke. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son," she began, the weight of each syllable hanging heavy in the air. “Carve…” She stopped, the words catching in her throat at the sheer brutality of what she was revealing. She paused briefly, looking around the room. If there were any traitors amongst them that could support the people who wrote the order, Maera hoped the Gods would deliver justice.

Gathering her composure, she cleared her throat before forging ahead, her voice ringing out with authority. "Carve the babe from his whore wife’s belly so that he may feel a fraction of the anguish our rightful Queen felt when Prince Lucerys was taken from her- Daemon Targaryen, King consort."

The hall erupted in a cacophony of outrage and disbelief, the shock and horror evident on the faces of those gathered. Guards rushed to contain the chaos, grappling with onlookers who attempted to reach the assassins, their shouts and cries filling the air with tension and unrest. Seated amidst the chaos, Maera watched with a mixture of satisfaction and apprehension, knowing that the revelation of the scroll had unleashed a storm that would have far-reaching consequences.

Aemond then stood from his chair, tall and imposing, and the room fell silent. “I shall feed them to Vhagar and Ēbrion myself,” he proclaimed, his voice resonating with determination. As the crowd erupted in cheering, Aemond strode confidently around the table, his words ringing out. "Let these traitors experience firsthand the power of dragons."

Maera sat motionless, her gaze fixed ahead as a numbing sensation washed over her, a stark contrast to the heightened emotions that had gripped her moments before. Amidst the gruesome details outlined in the scroll and the chilling realization of the peril she had narrowly escaped, she found herself overwhelmed.

She watched as the guards attempted to pull the three men away, their faces twisted in fear. In the midst of her turmoil, Maera’s attention was drawn to one of the two men who would aid in the escape of the assassin, his desperate gaze locking with hers. He appeared no older than herself, with short auburn hair and pleading blue eyes. It struck her deeply that this man, a stranger to her, had conspired to end her life.

As the guards began to drag him away by his chains, the young man called to her. "I plead mercy, Princess," he cried out, desperation evident in his voice.

Aemond's expression darkened as he approached the man, seizing him by the hair and forcing him to meet his gaze. "Mercy? And what makes you think you deserve that, hmm?" he growled, his voice dripping with contempt.

Despite Aemond's intimidating presence, the young man managed to divert his gaze to Maera once more. "I am wed to your sister Wynnifrid," he confessed, his voice trembling with fear.

The Prince glanced at Maera, who was now alert and staring right back at the red-haired man. Wynni. Gods, Wynni. A thousand memories of her little sister stirred in her head, memories of a sister she had not seen nor heard from in what felt like an eternity. Reacting on impulse, Maera raised her arm to halt the guards from dragging the men away.

The room fell into an eerie silence as Maera left her seat, a determined yet composed figure amidst the tension. With measured steps, she navigated around the lengthy table, her demeanor exuding an air of regal poise. Despite the turmoil roiling within her, Maera maintained an emotionless facade, her hand resting protectively on her swollen belly as she advanced.

As Maera approached the assailants, her presence commanded attention. The onlookers watched in muted anticipation, their eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. Without a word, Maera halted before the man who had called out to her, her gaze piercing yet inscrutable.

The one-eyed Prince forcefully threw the man on the floor before Maera, the sound of the chains binding him clinking as they hit the stone floor. Aemond’s expression was resolute, his features etched with disdain for those who had threatened his family. Standing by his wife's side, Aemond stood as a formidable presence, a silent sentinel guarding Maera against any further harm.

"You are Lord Tarly," Maera stated evenly, her voice betraying no emotion.

The young man, now identified as Alan Tarly, nodded, his eyes pleading for clemency. "Please, I beg you. Release me, I will tell you everything I know," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation.

Maera stood over the man, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. Doubt gnawed at her, questioning the authenticity of his claims. Was this a desperate attempt to elicit sympathy? A ruse to manipulate her emotions? Yet, beneath the layers of suspicion, a flicker of longing emerged—the longing for her sister.

Ser Adrian Tarbeck's voice cut through the tension in the hall, his accusation directed at Lord Alan Tarly. "Your House has just turned cloak, have you not? Why should we believe a word you say?" he challenged, his tone laced with skepticism.

Lord Alan Tarly's voice quivered as ignored the comment and looked up at Maera, his revelation catching her off guard. "Wynni is with child," he muttered, his words sending a shock through her.

The revelation struck Maera like a blow to the chest. Wynni, pregnant? The realization pierced her heart, stirring a tumult of anguish and regret. She hadn’t heard from her sister in ages, hadn’t known if Wynni’s marriage was one of happiness or sorrow. And now, to learn that Wynni was to become a mother, it was a revelation too overwhelming to comprehend.

The Princess took a deep breath to steady herself as she saw the man kneeling before her shaking his head. "I should never have agreed to be part of this plot. Never. I thought I was doing right by my House," he confessed, tears welling in his blue eyes.

Aemond scoffed with disdain, his voice laced with mockery as he addressed the assembled crowd. "Doing right by your House," he muttered, shaking his head in disgust. "Behold, my Lords, what Rhaenyra will do to take power."

Maera fixed her gaze on Lord Alan, her expression steely as she urged him to speak. "Start talking," she demanded, her patience wearing thin. Leaning closer to him, she delivered a warning in a low voice. "I am a lot less desperate than you are in this moment."

Lord Alan hesitated, casting nervous glances around the room before finally speaking up for all to hear. "The Queen has enlisted the help of Targaryen bastards, promising knighthood and wealth when the war is over," he revealed, prompting exchanged glances between Maera and Aemond. "She will use them to fly the riderless dragons and win the throne.”

As news of Rhaenyra’s plan sank in, Aemond's expression darkened, his frown etched deep upon his face. With a heavy heart, he stepped away from Maera, his mind undoubtedly consumed by the implications of this newfound knowledge.

Maera's gaze followed her husband, sensing the weight of his thoughts. The numbers didn't lie—while the Greens boasted five dragons, including the formidable Vhagar and Ēbrion, the Blacks had six, albeit mostly juveniles. Yet, even in their youth, these dragons possessed formidable power.

The realization hit Maera like a thunderbolt. She knew all too well the strength of the dragons. There were many known wild dragons on Dragonstone, but also many unknown in the dragonmount, just like Ēbrion. If Rhaenyra had acquired additional riders and dragons, it would tip the scales of the war irreversibly in her favour.

“You cannot win this war,” Lord Alan stated with desperation. But it fell on deaf ears as Maera clenched her jaw, her eyes flashing with resolve. She turned to Aemond, seeking strength and solidarity in their shared determination.

With a steely gaze, Maera spoke softly but firmly to her husband, her words resonating with unwavering conviction. “Morghon ondoso zaldrīzes tolī adere.” Death by dragon is too quick.

Aemond’s expression hardened at his wife’s words, a silent agreement passing between them. He moved to once again stand beside her, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos unfolding around them.

Turning his attention to the other two assailants, Aemond issued a harsh decree, his voice cutting through the air with authority. “Those two are to be hung, drawn, and quartered. Let their bodies serve as a warning to all who dare defy House Targaryen and its rightful King.”

The condemned men protested vehemently as they were dragged away, their cries echoing through the hall in vain. Aemond glanced at Maera, searching her face in order to get a glimpse at what she was thinking they should do with her supposed brother-in-law.

The Princess bent down again, her gaze softening momentarily as she addressed Lord Alan, her concern for her sister evident in her voice. "Is my sister well?"

Lord Alan nodded eagerly, relief flooding his features. "Very much so, Princess. She is looking forward to becoming a mother," he assured her.

A small smile tugged at Maera's lips as she acknowledged the reassurance. "Thank you, good-brother," she said, her gratitude evident in her tone. With a solemn nod towards her husband, Maera stepped back, her hand instinctively resting on her swollen stomach, a silent reminder of the life growing within her.

Her green eyes remained fixed on Aemond as he unsheathed his dagger, a glint of steel in the dim light of the hall. In one swift motion, he cut the man's throat, crimson blood spurting forth in a gruesome display. The sound of the body hitting the stone floor echoed through the hall, a grim punctuation to the grim act.

Notes: this was a big chapter so I’ve split it. Alys’s death is coming, don’t fucking worry 🤣 gotta get that lore in though. So chapter seventy-eight we will see the last of the witch. You guys can wait till then it’ll be worth it 😉 also I will not be taking questions about the assassination attempt and if this had anything to do with Alys, I would like to watch you all debate each other in the comments 😏

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#maera wylde #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #chapters #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house targaryen #house wylde #hotd helaena #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fanfiction

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mechaknight-98 · 2 hours

Text

Beastmaster's Bond II (NSFW) FT Chaehyun

Author's Note: I just really like Chaehyun. Make sure to wish my happy marshmallow a happy birthday.

I winced as I watched Chaehyun leave. “You are in charge until I get back,” Chaeyun responded I faked a smile knowing this week was going to be Hell. She had awakened something inside of me and I was not keen on being caged again. When we lock eyes she smiles gently.

“Hey it will be okay big guy I'll be right back, and we can figure out everything then.” I nod and Chaeybyun leans into my ear.

“Then we can fuck all day and all night,” she says with sadistic smile.

“As enticing as that sounds. I kinda just want to cuddle when you get back,” I respond conflicted. She was a joy to be around when the hormones in my brain weren't telling me to fuck her endlessly. Which I could already feel building up. we raced to get her ready so there was no time to “meet either of our needs” We could see it in the other's eyes. We kissed to scratch that itch but ultimately it left us unsatisfied, but we held strong as I saw her off. I drove back home then back to the zoo to drown myself in work. The first week was easy enough without Marshmallow. Running the zoo was difficult at first and took up most of my time, but I adjusted quickly. By the second week, the possessive and restless anger began to set in. The time difference made chatting together harder for the two of us, but any time she mentioned another guy besides her father I'd feel this violent urge to say “You know who you belong to right,” and it wasn't from a toxic place but this weird place of matter of fact. Needless to say, I missed her, and it was taking a toll on me.

By the fourth week, it hit me and I was out of it. Marshmallow had gone radio silent because the area she was in had no cell service, but on a positive note, I had everything ready for her to move her Magnamalo in, along with having “restructured” the zoo to be firing on all cylinders. I balanced schedules and helped Xiaotang (Chaehyun’s assistant) learn about the zoo because I was going to be helping Chaehyun with hatching Elder dragons moving forward. I also got my passport. Which made me feel worse as now Marshmallow was just a flight and a few grand away. I considered booking it just to see her, to hold her, but I had responsibilities.

On the 45th day of Marshmallow being gone(and the 45th consecutive day of work), I take the day off. I took the time to do a different passion of mine Photography. I drove over the the Aquarium of the Pacific and took pictures within the area. Due to it being a random weekday aquarium was quiet. So I got to have time to think. The possessiveness still raged within me but it was a dull pain by this point and not the throbbing ache as before. While I spent the morning contemplating and putting myself at ease I was interrupted by a call. I took out my phone and answered it

“Ahoy,” I answer

“Hey, Daddy it's your favorite marshmallow can you pick me up,”

“That depends are you asking as a friend or as an employee,”

“I'm asking my Daddy to take care of me,” Marshmallow teased in a tone that sent a shiver through my spine.

“I'll be there in a bit,”

I arrived at Marshmallow’s apartment 35 minutes later where she was lounging on her couch only her bra and panties. As I walked closer to her I smiled at her cute expression. When I was close enough to touch I sat her up got on the couch with her and just draped my arms around her. Chaehyun smiled as she nestled herself in my arms.

“I missed you, Daddy,” she said content. I chuckled and replied

“As funny as this has been can I ask why you insist on calling me daddy?”

“Well at first it was to get under your skin but now it's kinda stuck like how you call me Marshmallow,”

“That was never to get under your skin. you're soft and pale like marshmallows. So my brain made the connecting the fire time we… connected, but you're also sweet like one so it made sense to me,”

“Wait so it's not an insult to my weight,” Chaehyun asked

“Heavens no I love Marshmallows they're great and you're great like one,” I answer. Chaehyun looks at me and smiles before kissing me. I could feel myself losing to lust but I wanted to enjoy our time together a bit more so I broke the kiss and ran my hands through her hair as we lay together.

After another half hour of this, Chaehyun began to grind her ass on my crotch. She did this at an agonizingly slow pace before I lost control and the lust I'd been holding back took over I unclasped her bra and pushed her panties down. Chaehyun mewls as I begin to squeeze and paw her pliant and soft body. I squeeze her thigh and Chaehyun moans aggressively.

“Fuck stop teasing me,” she growls as she gets on top and pins me down. Her eyes are hazy with lust.

“I tried so hard to stay focused but I needed you. I needed this cock in me,” she growled. I gave her a shit-eating grin as she began to stroke me, “So here is how it's going to go. You are going to fuck me until I'm satisfied then we're going go over to the logistics moving into together because I need you and this cock to put me to bed every night,” I smirked at her and replied

“What if I say no?” her vision goes red as she takes me. I groan at the softness of her pussy as it envelopes my dick. She starts grinding figure eight into my crotch.

“You couldn't deny me even if you wanted to. I see it in your eyes. You want me as much as I want you,” she says powerfully. Her voice and atmosphere resonate with a deep part of my soul. Something primal. I look deep into her eyes and I see that primal possessiveness mirrored In her. I flip our positions as I wrap her right thigh around my waist. I massage her tummy with my left hand and her right thigh with my right hand as I forcefully thrust into her.

“God how could I ever say something mean about your body it's just so soft and velvety smooth.” I moan. Chaehyun mewls as I continue thrusting. Chaehyun’s moans are music to my ears as we continue fucking. I alternate my arms and I grip her other thigh and breast.

“Oh God, you're so deep,” Chaehyun moans as I lift her hips slightly to get a better angle. Her pussy tightens around me as I continue thrusting. We lock eyes and I see hers clouded with an intense lust that terrorizes her. She can't stop herself from nearing her peak. “God breed meme fill my fertile pussy with your seed. Let's have kids together,” she screams. My body takes over thrusting into her harder and harder as I chase my peak. Hers hits her on the way there. “Oh my god. I'm cumming she moans as a wave of her juice crashes into me.” Her pussy tightens as I fuck her through her high, and she moans the filthiest encouragement to breed her.

“God fill me with your cum. Make my pussy spill it. Please give me your cum I need it. I need to feel full and make my belly swell. Make me a mommy. Making us official fills me up so much that I can't help but get pregnant. Make my tits swell and my stomach bulge with life, please. Make me a mommy make me pregnant,” Chaehyun moaned, and hearing her say all those things gave me the push I needed to climax. Five weeks of a needed release hit me all at once. I groaned as I flooded her insides white as I gave into her incessant breeding demands, but I couldn't stop thrusting. I needed to breed her more. I felt my body kick into a second gear and I flipped her over and began taking her from the back. Her pussy tightened delightfully as I yanked her prone body up.

“Oh yes,” she groaned as we

“Don't ever leave me again,” I growl at her.

“I won't ever again. I need this cock. I want this cock to fuck Me every day,” Marshmallow replied.

I nod as I grab her wide hips to thrust in her deeper. The possessive feeling reaches a new high, “I'll make sure of it. I'll breed you every day and night. You will begin and end your days full of my cum. Even when you're pregnant I'll fuck you. You're mine marshmallow and no one else.” Chaehyun moans excitedly at that before succumbing to another orgasm. When her body goes limp I realize I may have overdone it a tad. I pick her up and carry her to her bedroom. Well, mission accomplished I guess I think to myself as I wait for her to recover. She sleeps soundly on her bed as I lay next to her. She snores lightly so I adjust her so she can sleep on her side. Feeling her body naked body all over as I try to get her comfortable causes me to stiffen again, and I almost give in right there but I remember the time and place. She's probably tired from all the stuff she did. While she sleeps I field some emails for her about the zoo and play with my switch for a bit (I always keep it and my camera with me.) I let her sleep for a few more hours until I grew hungry. I put some pants on and walked into her kitchen to see if there was anything I could cook. Funny enough she had all the stuff from French toast and omelets. So despite it being almost 7:45 pm, I began work on “breakfast” When I was finishing up I heard the shuffling of her little feet. She yawned as she walked in now draped in the same panties and bra from earlier. Marshmallow looks at me and squints.

“You taller,” she says annoyed

“There's no way,” I reply. Marshmallow groans and goes back into her room before coming out with a tape measure. She walks over to me and uses a step stool to be closer to my head.

“Yep when we first met you were five-ten now you're six-one and three-quarters.,” Marshmallow teased. I looked at her confused. “I know every inch of your body dear and when we started today I had trouble hitting the spots I could normally get to now I know why,” she said with a smile. She looked behind me to see the food prepared. She swipes a piece of French toast and bites into it. She hums in elation at the taste,

“Ah mashta,” she mumbles as she chews. When she finishes she laughs, “Is there anything you can't do?” Marshmallow teased, I replied, “Talk to women normally,” Marshmallow replied with laughter as I fixed her a plate. After that, I fix myself a plate and we eat standing next to each other. I feel content and happy here with her. I never want this feeling to stop.

“Hey Chaeyhun,” I start

Chaehyun looks at me surprised,” using my real name you must be serious,” she says with a serious gaze. I nod and lock eyes with her.

“All that stuff about being together did you mean that,” I ask shakily.

Chaehyun smirks, “is that nervousness I hear? How unlike you.” Chaehyun teases in a dulcet tone that drives me wild. Feeling a little feral and done with teasing I lightly smack her ass and reply,

“Yeah now can you be serious before I fuck you stupid,” Chaehyun smiles as she takes a break from eating to stare at me

“What If I want you to fuck Me stupid, what if I want you to fuck Me stupid for the next week straight,” she asks I try to stay focused I try to fight my urges to pounce on her again and I hang on barely. Her body and voice are just so enticing that I always struggle to resist fucking her every second I am around her.

“Please Chaehyun I want to know where we stand. I…” Before I could finish laying out my worries Chaehyun kissed me with such a deep and passionate fervor that reduced all my worries into sad whimpers.

“You are mine Dinovaldo Bear, and no one else’s,” Chaehyun says with a lustful and possessive fire. She kisses me again with a ravenous hunger that she transfers over to Me. I join her in ravenous lust.

“And you are mine Kim Chaehyun,” I say before kissing her again. I rip her bra off and grope her breast before moving her panties to the side and plunging into her again. Chaehyun smiles seductively as I thrust in and out of her.

“That's it fill me again make sure my hungry pussy is always full of your cum for the next week,” Chaehyun moaned causing me to cum in her again. Chaehyun smiles.

“Oh someone liked that,” she smirks reveling in the power she held over me.

“Can you go again,” I nod then she does the sexiest and grossest thing I have ever witnessed. She put my last two pieces of French toast on her tits and said “Come Finish your dinner.” part of my brain was repulsed but damn was it hot. I got down to her right tit first and lapped up the soggy bread and sucked on her syrupy nipple. Chaehyun moaned as I feasted on her body. I have never experimented with food play (or many kinks for that manner but Chaehyun brought out this ferocity in me that thrilled and frightened me. The passion and desire were there but what if in my zeal I hurt her was something that plagued my mind. As multiple people had mentioned multiple times at this point; I was stronger and taller than I had been before. this meant that I had to readjust to my new strength which would make things awkward. as if sensing my hesitation while I devour her other tit and remaining French toast she said, "Come on Tiger be rough with me I can take it. I'm not delicate. I'm as tough as you are." Rex did it for me. I grabbed her waist and laid her flat on the ground as I thrust into her. we rut in syncopating rhythms clawing and marking each other as our own as we chase another mutual high. Chaehyun (with the help of some groping here and there) reached her release first and came violently. I was so caught up in her body that I hadn't realized she was also milking another orgasm out of me as well. As we basked in the afterglow I smiled at her. She smiled back. "You liked that Rex thing huh?"

"you bet Tiger," I say in the spur of the moment as her hair falls over her face making it look like tiger stripes. I was unprepared for her pussy to tighten at that.

"Ooh someone likes that," I tease. Chaehyun growls and flips me over as she begins to ride me. her pussy demanding I get hard once again. Unable to resist any of her demands my body complies and I let her ride another orgasm. She lifts her head in ecstasy as she says, "Call me that again. I'm your tiger. You're white tiger," she says losing herself further to pleasure,

"Does my tiger-like her new nickname," I ask as she rides me. Chaehyun tightens again and moans as she comes again. I push her off of me and she growls at me. Her eyes are full of hungry lust. as she rubs her body seductively. she crawls to me and corners me in her kitchen,

"More," rolls seductively off her lips. Something in our body chemistry feels like it's changed because her scent is this intoxicating and arousing mix of cinnamon and her natural musk and I am hard again.

"What the fuck are you doing to me," I growl as I pick her up to fuck her again? her walls as usual provide no resistance as I slide into her. she moans in ecstasy. her velvety walls accept me with no effort as I thrust in and out. His body is perfect for me. the perfect softness the perfect taste the perfect smell. the perfect woman. I gaze deep into her eyes before kissing her again. her mouth relents to my force as I explore the caver myself before she moans and cums again.

"Rex give it to me. I need it. Make me your mate forever breed me. breed me again and again,” she says and I moan as I paint her insides white again. I watch as she rides out my orgasm trying to steal as much of my cum as possible. When we relax Chaehyun gets up and has me follow her to the bathroom. She showed me all of her contraceptives. She promptly throws them out.

That signal move changed something in me. A part of me I never knew was there awoken. I walked up to Chaehyun. I run my hands over her every curve and get lost in her eyes. I see many emotions reflecting in her eyes but the one that to me the most is vulnerability. She knows this is a risk but is willing to choose to submit to me as hers. My response is simple,

“You are Mine, and I am yours,” Chaehyun nodded desperately before she replied

“Yes, yes, yes. Please don't leave me.”

“Not a chance, but do be aware once we go down this road please know I'm a greedy and selfish lover there will be no sharing,” I reply. In my attempt to be seductive, it came out sounding abusive so I quickly tried to remedy that.

“WAIT that came out wrong. What I meant to say is that if we are doing this it's all in there's no open relationship no side pieces. We are together,” I reply. Chaehyun smiles and then says,

“I wouldn't have it any other way.”

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #kep1er smut #kep1er chaehyun #chaehyun smut #kim chaehyun

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marvelfanfics1 · 1 day

Note

How do you think cg!Rafe would react to little!reader who has had a really bad day and is very deep in littlespace?

I'm not really happy with how this turned out but I tried 😭

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You both had been invited to some family gathering by Rafe's dad. It was a fancy restaurant and many relatives were there which already made you nervous because you had the urge to be little since you woke up but decided to push that away for the sake of Rafe not canceling, knowing he would do that in a heartbeat but you wanted to impress his family since you still felt out of place any time at one of the Cameron's gatherings and decided not to tell him.

Everything had gone smoothly until you went to use the restroom. Sitting in your stall you could hear two of his cousins talking bad about you. You tried holding back your tears but the second you heard the door shut again your feelings poured over.

You didn't know how long you had been sitting there sobbing, that fuzzy feeling you get when you're at the verge of slipping having you shake your head.

"No, no, no...not now- be big. Imma big girl-" You mumbled to yourself, getting up and checking if anyone is there before you went to look at yourself in the mirror, scolding yourself. "Stop being a baby."

If Rafe could hear you right now. Lord have mercy. He would scold you even more for disrespecting your little self.

When you were sure your crying stopped you wiped away the remaining tears and took a deep breath. Leaving the restroom you suddenly bumped into someones chest, looking up you sighed when it was da- Rafe.

"You were gone for a while, you okay?" He asked and even though you nod he knew you were lying, your puffy and red eyes giving you away. He just let it go for now as the evening is almost over and you both just wanted to get over with it.

Later in the car you were silent, just looking out the window and playing with the end of your soft pink dress. Rafe glanced your way and sighed.

"Look, I- I know something happened earlier and don't say 'it's nothing' because when you cried about it's- it's not nothing, a'ight? So, tell me."

You just shook your head, not in the mood to talk anymore today. The only thing you wanted now was to wrap yourself in a blanket and sleep.

He wanted to press the subject further, placing his hand on your thigh to give you some assurance but you only shrugged his hand off and Rafe then slowly figured that you may have slipped the second you got in the car and that you're probably just tired and overstimulated from everything.

"Okay, I understand. Let's- we'll talk about it later." He said and you didn't give him any sign of acknowledgement, looking out the window again.

Back at home you completely shut down, quickly making your way to the bedroom, grabbing your lamb stuffie and curled up under the covers. All the big emotions you felt having frustrated tears flowing down your cheeks again.

Rafe came in a few minutes later and smirked, not obvious to the situation and sat down by your side, pulling the bedsheets off your head and is instantly worried by your tears, his eyes widen.

"Hey, Hey, hey. C'mere." He pulled you into his arms, ignoring your fussing and weak attempts at trying to push him away. "No- none of that. Shh, you're okay."

You only whined, giving up and slumping against him, gripping onto his shirt and letting the tears flow. Rafe started rocking you while whispering affirmations, practically suffocating you in his hold but that's exactly what you needed right now.

After your little meltdown you pulled your face from his neck, looking up at him with big eyes, just blinking at him slowly. He was a bit irritated because he didn't know that look at all.

You only mumbled a small 'daddy' before placing your head back on his shoulder and slipping your thumb between your lips.

It then clicked in Rafe's head.

"Someone's feeling really small, hm?" He rubbed your arm, feeling you nod against him. "That's okay. That's why daddy's here, to take care of you."

He just kept holding and rocking you. When you were sound asleep he reached over to grab your paci from your nightstand and took your thumb out of your mouth, quickly replacing it with the paci when you started to stir.

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Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra

#little!reader #daddy!rafe thoughts #daddy!rafe drabble

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pr-incey · 14 hours

Text

For a while—after being exposed to the antiship movement, because goodness knows I didn't care about this when I was younger—I wondered *why* fiction and reality were so different in my head. Why I could happily see things depicted in fiction that would make me sick to my stomach or upset me to tears just from thinking of it happening in real life. I couldn't come up with a reason for this for a while, which caused me distressed and made me worried that I might secretly be a terrible person after all.

But I've done some thinking and I've figured it out. Or, rather, I've returned to the mindset that came so easy to me in the past and probably did to a lot of people before the well was poisoned.

When I see a fictional character, I don't see a person. I don't see a person like *me*, anyway. I see a person within that piece of fiction's universe; a plane of existence that is wholly different from my own. Lines and colour, words on a page, virtual drawings being played sequentially at a speed that simulates movement. Sure, the written passage, 'He had eyes, ears and a mouth' is a representation of what *I* am, and what other people around me are, but it is fundamentally a plane of existence that is *alien* to me.

An alien is something that is decidedly not human. I feel empathy for other humans because I can relate to them. I have no desire to hurt them because I either know what it is like to be hurt in that way, or I can imagine what it would be like. I know the harm it would do to them, which illicits a reaction of disgust and apprehension in me. 'That's terrible,' I think, which simply kills any desire to cause any harm to a real person or do any disgusting actions.

This is why predators are such terrible people. They are fully aware of the harm their actions will cause and then go ahead with them anyway.

But with a fictional character, it's different in these ways:

1. First of all, we have to remember that they AREN'T human and so whatever I feel towards them cannot accurately mirror whatever I feel towards real flesh and blood individuals. They're projections of humanity from OTHER people in whatever medium they choose, but fictional characters are—and I cannot stress this enough—NOT HUMAN. If I pull off the head of a Barbie doll, does that mean I have the desire to behead someone in real life? Does it mean that I MUST have the urge to behead someone in real life, because a barbie doll is a 'representation' of a person? Your answer, I'm hoping, is no. Because Barbie is not human.

2. And because fictional characters are not human, I don't have empathy for them. Not REAL empathy, anyway, the type that stops the desire to cause harm. When I 'violate' a fictional character, it illicits at most only superficial disgust because I know that character will not live with the lasting consequences of my actions. They're a projection, a facsimile.

So that might bring you to another question, 'Even if they're not real, why would you WANT to do that to them, anyway?'

That I can't answer. The human brain is weird. Sometimes, people have dark urges. If a kid tosses their Barbie onto the ground and seems to take pleasure in it falling, can that accurately say they want to push a real person onto the ground? If someone seems to enjoy a violent video game like GTA where they can run people over and shoot them to their heart's content, is that a surefire way to know that they want to do those things to real people? I wouldn't say it is. Would you?

The final thing to remember is that it's not completely black and white. A serial killer might have been 'inspired' by a violent horror story, whereas the actual author of that story is a nice, well-adjusted individual. People with the desire to hurt actual humans might make do with projections, but it does not change the fact that they actually want to HARM people. The fiction didn't make them want to do that. They already did, and probably would have even if they didn't discover said fiction. And horrible people CAN make their own 'projections'.

Generally though I believe it is obvious when someone is just playing with dolls, and when someone is exhibiting an actual desire to hurt somebody.

#proship safe #proshippers please interact #proship #profic #just thinking

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digitalpup444 · 15 hours

Text

omg HIIIII this is my first ever PUBLISHED work…i’ve always made like some sort of fan fic but just kept it to myself like a greedy little thing hehe but! i decided to share the nasty thoughts in my brain with everyone!!

mdni!

warnings; (rafe being an asshole, teasing, hard fucking, daddy kink, bimbo reader)

with the way the skies were looking, you knew your plan of going to the beach with rafe was out of the picture now. you huffed, pouting as you looked up at the sky out of the window in rafe’s room. “this isn’t fair!’ You whined, jutting your bottom lip out as you turned around to stomp out of his bedroom. in the office, rafe was working out some ‘business things’, as he put it, but you had no regard to that as you barged in.

“c’mon, man. I’m workin’ on something here.” he exclaimed, stressfully running a hand over his buzzed hair. you stomped your foot lightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s raining.” You grunted disapprovingly, eyebrows furrowed. rafe simply went over to the window to look outside, holding the curtains out of the way as he parted the blinds with his fingers. with an eyeroll, he turned back to you. “it’s not raining. The clouds are jus’ settin’ in. go play somewhere, kid,” he grumbled. “ain’t tellin you twice.”

“but i miss you. you promised me you would take me to the beach.” you whined some more, moping towards rafe and putting your head to his chest. “n’ now its gonna be all rainy an’ gross and we wont even get to have fun!” your eyes got watery and your lower lip trembled as you lifted your head up to look at your tall boyfriend.

“hey, enough of that,’ He lightly scolded, grabbing your jaw to get you to pay attention to his words. “you can pout and whine all you want, but i cant control the weather like you think i can, kid. you gonna behave for me while i work on this?’’ he asked, although regardless if you said yes, he knew you would be back on the topic of going to the beach.

with an attitude, you pulled away from his grip with an upset look. “hmph. fine. Whatever, i didn’t wan’ go to the beach anyways!” and with that, you sulked out of the office only causing Rafe to roll his eyes at your dramatic exit.

as you entered rafe’s bedroom yet again, you threw yourself down on his bed and screeched into his pillows and threw them off his bed, not too happy about how today was going for you. what you didnt know was that rafe was following you quietly, arms crossed at the doorway as he leaned against it while he watched your outburst.

you your head up, eyes falling onto him with a soft gasp. “I..-’ you started, only to be cut off from his stern voice. “enough of that, kid. you dont know what you’re gettin’ yourself into.” he tsked, stalking towards you and laying a firm yet gentle hand on your cheek. “thought you were gonna behave for me like a good girl? i must be a goddamn fool for believing you when you said that.” your eyes were big and doe like as you looked up at your boyfriend, pouting at him. “ i jus’ miss you, daddy...i need you.”

and with that, you had rafe wrapped around your little finger with just those words. he rubbed his thumb over the skin on your cheek as he bit his lip, fighting between the urge to go back to the office or to take care of his precious girl. “you need me that badly, hm?” he grinned, his hand snaking to the nape of your neck where he gripped your hair and pulled your head back to kiss you open mouthed.

you mewled into the kiss, pawing your hands at the belt of his pants as you struggled to unbuckled it. “aw, sweet girl can’t even use her brain to figure out how to unbuckle my belt.” he tsked, pushing you face down on the bed with your ass hanging off. “c’mon, you know the drill.” he smacked your ass before pulling down the slutty pink skirt you were wearing.

“ohh, no panties? god, you were just begging for me to have my way with you,” he chuckled. “just a slutty little brat, always throwing tantrums to get her way,” rafe teased as he unbuckled his belt and slid his pants and boxers down. “always cryin’ for something, nothing i give is good enough for you.” he lined himself up with your dripping hole before pushing on without warning, leaving you gasping and gripping at the sheets.

“that’s it..i know you can take it, kid.” he grunted into your ear as he leaned over you, smacking the side of your hip. “p-please…!” you whined, begging for him to move. it was excruciating the way he stayed there for a few minutes before pounding into you, leaving you a babbling and whining mess.

“just needed your daddy’s cock in you to shut you up, yeah? answer me.” rafe commanded through clenched teeth as he held onto your hips to hit every inch inside of you.

“y-yes! only act out cuz i want you!” you cried out, pushing your ass into him, wanting to feel him go deeper. the tip of his cock was kissing your cervix causing you to mewl and grip at nothing. “shut your goddamn whore mouth,” he growled, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the moans. “f-fuck..” the man cursed as he felt himself coming closer with each thrust.

your thighs trembled from the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut every time he hit that special spot he knew all too well. you had drool all over your chin once Rafe removed his hand from your mouth. “you gonna cum? yeah, i know you are. fuckin’ little whore was already at the edge as soon as i pulled my pants down.” he scoffed, letting out another groan. “inside, wan’ you inside!” you whimpered out, hand sliding down between your body and the mattress to play with your clit.

“please, m’ so close..please don’t stop, daddy!” you cried out, eyes watering with tears. with a swift movement, rafe pulled out of you to cum on your back and leave you wanting more. “did you really think for a fucking second i would let you cum after the little stunt you pulled? hm?” he tugged your head back with your hair, slapping your cheek lightly. “brats dont get to cum.” he stated as he fixed his pants, buckling them and going off to the office to leave you pouting.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fic #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron #jj maybank x reader #john b x reader #bimbo!reader #pope heyward #pope heyward x reader #outer banks #outerbanks fic

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xx-lemon-drop-xx · 23 hours

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𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓜𝓮 𝓝𝓸𝓽 ↬𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖎𝖛𝖊

“Love in light may not last forever, but love in shadows lasts a lifetime."

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ[quote stolen from @rachellerosziel] ࿐ྂ

→1988 words

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

"He said I might be part fae."

The sandwich tasted excellent despite the fact it didn't seem Lilia could actually cook food aside from putting together sandwiches. The food tray he'd brought in had all sorts of foods on it. A sandwich cut in halves, a small bowl of fruit, some crackers and cheese, and a cookie. He'd also brought in a glass of Orange Juice.

"Is that so? I suppose I may have to stop calling you child of man, then." Malleus said, interest piqued. "Hmm.." His low hum bubbled through his chest and rose into the air almost like a purr of sorts.

"I bet you'll come up with a new nickname eventually. Besides, we don't know for sure if I am part fae yet. I don't mind being called Child of man either way, though." A smile dusted (Y/n)'s features, and he returned it. "Sometimes, you remind me of a cat."

"Oh? How so?" Malleus asked with interest. She thought for a moment, before shrugging. "I don't know. You just give off that vibe. Prideful but not overbearingly so, usually alone.." She trailed off at the look on his face.

"Being alone isn't something you choose, is it?"

She asked, voice small and somber. Malleus lifted his gaze to meet hers, a fragment of something unknown and mysterious flashing across his face. (Y/n) wanted to figure out what that emotion was. She felt the urge to pull out every thought, every emotion, every ache and worry and pain filling his head and dissect it. She wanted to know everything about him at that moment. What did he like, what made him tick?

"Some things, you don't get to choose." He answered, casting his gaze to the side. "Sometimes, it is just something you have to bear and deal with. You can't choose to just make people like you. You can change yourself, but you'll get tired of the persona you put up quickly. Even worse if you become this persona. To lose yourself amidst the need for self love and the want of acceptance from others- that's where the dangers lie."

(Y/n) popped a cracker with cheese into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Have you ever wanted to change yourself, Malleus? Not like change yourself, but to be a different person entirely. Would you ever give up the life you had for something different?"

"No." Malleus' answer was immediate, and powerful. Flowing with confidence. "The people I know and the memories I harbor aren't worth ever giving up. The select few people I have are more than enough for me. And what about you?"

(Y/n) thought for a moment, a pang in her chest of anxiety. "I'm scared I'm going to have to choose one day. Or maybe I'll never even get the chance to choose. What if I can never go back? Aunt Jen.. And my pets. My old life. What if Crowley isn't able to find me a way back? Or what if the mystery about my dad unravels and I do ultimately choose to go back home?"

Malleus watched on with pursed lips. Perhaps he'd never given it a thought before, how potentially terrified (Y/n) was. Waking up one day in a whole new world, finding out her father was originally from this world, and finding out you may never be able to return home. That must have been horrifying.

"I believe you will have your answer at the end of this journey." Malleus said, settling a hand onto her shoulder and giving a small squeeze as an act of reassurance. Or could it possibly have been one of affection as well?

"Take it slow. No one can have the answers to everything in just one day," He stood up, grabbing the empty food tray and cup. "Live in the moment but don't forget to also have fun while living in the moment. I wouldn't want this journey to all be a nightmare for you. Let me show you to the spare room, you look tired, (Y/n)."

"I am tired." She admitted, giving a small smile. The walk was a quiet but comfortable one. Malleus had snapped his fingers at one point, proofing away the tray and cup of half gone orange juice to the sink to be washed later.

The room was simple but nice. A large bed, a dresser over in the corner, and a desk in another corner. Some candles lit up the room with a green glow, she had a feeling they were powered by Malleus' magic but (Y/n) didn't say a thing as she sat down on the cushiony bed.

"I will see you tomorrow?" Malleus said from the doorway. (Y/n) smiled over at him. "I'll see you bright and early, Mal." She concluded. The Dragon Fae nodded and closed the door after wishing her peaceful dreams.

It was a Hustle.

Bags and bags were being packed and moved around, according to Lilia they were going to take them all in one trip through the portal to Briar Valley. Realizing it was probably a good thing to pack some of her belongings for the trip, (Y/n) looked back at Malleus.

"I'm going to Ramshackle to pack some belongings. Do you want to tag along?"

With a nod, they were off.

The walk was mostly a quiet one, though once in a while Malleus did point out the architectural facts about certain things. It was mainly about gargoyles, though. It wasn't that hard to figure out how much he'd taken a liking towards gargoyles, though she didn't mind listening either.

"That gargoyle is fairly new, only around sixty years old at most," He pointed out, "Though the gargoyles in and around Night Raven Collage are typically older." "How old?" (Y/n) asked, looking up at him in interest. Malleus smiled down at her, his range showing slightly.

"Well I'm glad you asked. Typically the gargoyles around the school can be close to Five Hundred years old at most. Lilia remembers hearing about them first being put in. Some gargoyles had feared down to the point they were a danger to falling over and breaking off the tops of buildings, that's why some gargoyles look newer, they'd replaced the old ones."

The gate creaked open as Malleus opened it for her, and they both walked through, heels clicking against the cemented steps towards Ramshackle. "Are there some things people mistake for gargoyles a lot?" Malleus nodded at this question. "Many have issues depicting grotesques and gargoyles apart, though in all honesty the differences are there." "Like what?" (Y/n) urged him to keep talking, which Malleus didn't seem to mind all too much. In fact, he seemed open to talk about his hobby.

"Gargoyles are used to protect the building from water damage. They are waterspouts that project from a roof to carry rainwater away from the building. While Grotesques serve no architectural purpose but to be a decorative carving."

"That's very interesting. To be honest at first glance I don't think I would've known the difference. So that's why gargoyles are always typically found on a roof then?" The door gave way with a loud creak of neglect as (Y/n) opened it. She'd made the old abandoned dorm look a bit more liveable, though it was still badly damaged. Cups, bowls, pans and pots were set around to catch the water dripping from the ceiling and a tarp was placed over a large hole in the roof as a temporary fix. Though it was likely to become an issue at one point once filled with water.

"Precisely.. My, this dorm certainly is.." Malleus trailed off, (Y/n) picking it up for him. "Broken down, unlivable?" "In a way, yes. I would've expected Crowley to have at least helped you out some." She shrugged, walking up the stairs to her room and greeting the ghosts on the way past.

"Well, he didn't but I don't think there's much to be done in this dorm to fix it. It's been around too long for simple repairs." She opened her dresser and grabbed her book bag off the ground, emptying it before starting to shove in clothes. Malleus settled down on her bed, and they talked back and forth as she packed a few belongings. Clothes, some perfume and other accessories. When she came out of the bathroom carrying two boxes, he was intrigued.

"What may those be?" "Oh, just some pads and Tampons. I'm supposed to be getting my period sometime towards the middle or end of this week. Crowley was nice enough to pick me up some." She wasn't shy about it, she was a lady after all, it was normal for her.

"I see. I have not seen feminine products in quite a while. They've certainly evolved." She laughed at his words, stuffing them in her book bag and zipping it shut. "Yeah, they certainly have. I can't say they're much different from the ones in my world."

"It's kind of surprising, you don't seem all too bothered by the fact we're talking about my period." Malleus looked up in confusion at her statement, "Is it usual for people to be disgusted by a natural thing? Your body is simply shedding the skin of your uterus. That's normal."

"Uh.. I guess you can say so. Men usually make a big deal of it. They think it's disgusting. Or whenever we're upset they whine that it's our periods."

"Those aren't men then. Those are little boys pretending to be men." Malleus stated. (Y/n) resisted the urge to chuckle, "I guess there's a lot of boys in my world, then." He nodded in agreement, "I suppose so."

"It's not what I thought it'd look like."

"What did you think it'd look like?" Malleus joined her at the window of the large castle, peering outside of it with her. The town was pretty dark itself, that was something (Y/n) did expect. "Well.. I kind of expected it to be covered in thorns or something."

He hummed, the commotion of his servants behind him long forgotten about. Malleus' eye was focused on her, his newest companion as of now. How intriguing it was to have someone from a different world treat him with more kindness and love than anyone in the school ever could have accomplished. It wasn't something he'd expected even in the slightest.

"You seem tense." Malleus commented, a hand settling down on her shoulder. He'd half expected her to pull away- in horror or in disgust he didn't know which one, it was welcomed when (Y/n) didn't. "I'm just.. Thinking." She replied.

"Do feed my curiosity."

Oh, it's really nothing. Some things just look.." She trained off, gaze sweeping over Briar Valley from the window, it was fogging over from her breath, and Malleus heard the squeaking sound as she rubbed it off. "Similar?" Malleus finished for her.

"Yeah." (Y/n) answered, "A little bit. Not too much but.. Enough."

"Would you like to take a walk with me later? Perhaps your memory will be jogged if you are able to view the town. The brain always remembers certain types of scenery. Even if you don't think it does."

"Do you think it's possible I'm from here?"

"Perhaps. Only time will tell." He offered her an arm, "Come, it will only be a brief walk. We'll be back before lunch. Lilia," Lilia looked up at the mention of his name, the teacup warm against his pale lips. "Would you mind tagging along?"

"Khehe, why not? A little stroll couldn't hurt anyone." He set his teacup down on a small plate, (Y/n) had seen them before in movies, she didn't know what they were called and frankly, she didn't care.

Lilia stood to his feet, stretching and cracking his back. "Let us be on our way."

#twisted wonderland #x reader #fem!reader #malleus draconia #twist malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland lilia #twist lilia #lilia vanrouge #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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voxofthevoid · 3 days

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We're at Shibuya Swap Wednesday #9, and I still can't predict an end. Part 3 was largely unplotted when I started writing it, and I think I can see the end—and it's miraculously shorter than I anticipated—but let's see how the path there looks.

I didn't write a lot this week, so the fic is at 85k and halfway through Chapter 16. There's a fuckton of conversations in this part because I'm still reaping what I sowed in Part 1. Several bits were like pulling teeth, but I'm happy with the final shape. The following section is a goyuu reunion of sorts:

Yuuji opens the door and steps into the dark.

His eyes don’t need an adjustment period; he’s always had good night vision. The tall figure standing stock-still, silhouetted by the sparse moonlight outside an open window, still makes him startle. A second later, two pools of radiant blue cut through the dark—Gojou’s open eyes, fixed right on Yuuji.

“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji breathes.

“Hello, Yuuji,” comes the soft reply.

The door gently clicks shut behind Yuuji, almost making him jump. His heart is in his throat, and it stays right there as the seconds stretch on, held in place by reasons better and worse than a door closing on its own. On the opposite end, Gojou is still and unmoving. His features are blank, the shadows on his face made strange by the glow of his own eyes. Yuuji’s known for a while that Gojou’s eyes have their own fire, but he’s never seen them like this.

He’s never seen Gojou like this.

“Sensei,” Yuuji says, speaking in hushed tones on instinct, “I’m gonna turn the light on.”

“Go on,” is all Gojou says.

Yuuji gropes around the walls beside the door, and it’d be easier if he just looked, but he finds that he can’t take his eyes off Gojou. A part of him is afraid, not that Gojou will do anything but that he’ll melt into the shadows if Yuuji takes his eyes off him, vanishing like he was never here.

He finds the switchboard and promptly blinds himself.

“Shit,” he swears, slapping his hands over his eyes. He rubs the tears away, peering out from between his fingers and getting smarting eyes for his trouble. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Gojou says, sounding amused; the familiarity of it makes something in Yuuji unclench.

He blinks and squints until the light don’t feel like it’s stabbing his eyes anymore, and then Gojou’s there in full color, eyes bared and hair down and smiling at Yuuji, as solid as a dream can ever get.

“Gojou-sensei,” Yuuji says helplessly, “you’re back.”

“I am. Miss me?”

“I—yes, I was—”

“Worried?”

“…Yeah.”

Gojou’s smile widens. It’s not really a nice expression, too sharp around the edges, but Gojou means these smiles. They’re real, even if they’re poised to cut.

“I’m not the kind of man,” Gojou murmurs, “you should worry about, Yuuji.”

“Yeah, well…” Yuuji shrugs. “Can’t help it, I guess. And it’s different this time.”

“Oh?”

“You were walking into a trap, weren’t you?”

“Oh?” Gojou repeats with an unholy amount of relish. “You really have been thinking about me.”

Yuuji fights down the urge to throw up his arms. “I just told you that!”

“So you did,” Gojou admits. “No need to worry about your dear teacher—I won’t be outmaneuvered twice by the same person. Once was enough. My pride won’t survive a repeat, and we’d hate that, wouldn’t we?”

“Uh, sure,” Yuuji says, not sure how to say Gojou’s pride isn’t what he’s worried about.

Gojou chuckles like he can tell anyway. “Your mother’s a wily bastard, by the way. I hope you haven’t inherited any of that. I quite like how straightforward you are. You’re not hiding some Machiavellian cunning under all that cute pink fluff, are you?”

“What?” Yuuji asks, his brain stuck on cute pink fluff.

“No.” Gojou tilts his head, humming. “No, you’re a different breed.”

“Okay?” Yuuji wrenches his attention back to the point. “How’d it go? Did you find them, did you—”

“I found the body,” Gojou answers. “Booby-trapped to hell, with the most innovative mix of barriers and seals I’ve ever seen. Maybe I should start teaching you those. See if you’ve got a knack for it. Genetics isn’t everything, but for sorcerers, it means something more often than not.”

Any other time, Yuuji would have leaped at the chance to learn more and get stronger, but right now, all he can focus on is—

“The body?” he asks.

Gojou blinks once; his eyes are glowing even in the bright light. “The brain was absent. The residuals led me on a wild goose chase for a while, but they didn’t lead to anything. I knew it wouldn’t. I was tracking that body’s cursed energy, you see. And I found it. It’s all I found. We should have killed them at Shibuya. But every version of you will be a sentimental fool, won’t you, Yuuji?”

Yuuji takes half a step back before forcing himself to stop. Gojou’s stare is a piercing thing, like twin lasers—hotter than the sun, with none of its warmth. Yuuji feels like it’ll sear off his flesh, chunk of cooked meat falling to the ground at his feet.

He can’t feel Gojou’s cursed energy at all.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuji says very gently, “about your friend.”

Gojou stills, somehow without moving a single muscle. Something seems to suck the air out of the room.

Yuuji smothers the urge to yank the door open and throw himself out of this room. It’s not real anyway. Yuuji doesn’t actually want to run away from Gojou. He’s not scared. It’s just that, sometimes, Gojou gets like this, all silent and still, and every animal instinct Yuuji has starts screaming. It happened with Sukuna too, the one time they met face to face, but Yuuji was too angry then to feel anything else, and it was only later, when the way his spine writhed as Gojou bore down on that volcanic curse felt oddly familiar, that Yuuji even realized that a part of him had responded the same way to that blood-and-bone domain and its vicious master.

With Gojou, there’s no anger to swallow everything else, and Yuuji’s left to grapple uncomfortably with the disconnect between his instincts and his feelings. It makes him feel guilty too. Gojou’s on a whole other level as a sorcerer, as a living being, but he’s still just a person. And he’s Yuuji’s teacher. Yuuji likes him; he worries about him. There’s something profane about any part of Yuuji reacting to Gojou the way it did to Sukuna, and Yuuji has a hundred reasons to want to get stronger, but one of them, close to the top of the list, is that he wants to bear the brunt of Gojou’s power without even a sliver of his soul squirming.

He takes a step closer to Gojou, not once looking away from the violent supernova of his eyes.

Something shifts in Gojou’s expression. It doesn’t soften, but it’s less blank, less alien.

“I’d ask who’s been telling tales,” Gojou murmurs, “but it doesn’t matter, hm? You should save your pity for the ones who matter, Yuuji. My old friend lost that right years ago.”

Yuuji…has no idea what to do make of that.

But he knows one thing. “It’s not pity, sensei. I just wish none of it happened to you.”

“And what would you know of what happened to me?”

Yuuji shrugs, trying and failing to shake off the discomfort layering his skin. “Not much. Just that your friend became a curse user and, uh, died. And then Kenjaku took his body.”

“That’s not all you know,” Gojou says with damning certainty. “Tell me how he died, Yuuji.”

Yuuji looks down at his feet for a moment, breathing in deep. Getting air into him still feel like a fight, and his heartbeat is echoed all over his body, from the skull to the soles of his feet. There’s something unnatural happening.

But he trusts Gojou.

Yuuji looks him in the eyes and says, “You killed him.”

“I did. Are you sorry about that too?”

“Yes, sensei.”

“What if I told you I didn’t even hesitate? He was my best friend, you know. The only one I ever had.”

Yuuji’s eyes smart again, his chest squeezing tight. “That must have felt terrible.”

Gojou blinks.

The air lightens.

There’s a long, heavy sigh, followed by Gojou slumping back against the open window, his entire torso supported by empty space. His eyes haven’t wavered from Yuuji or lessened any in intensity, but there’s a pout on his mouth that doesn’t suit the situation at all.

“Are you for real?” he complains.

“Uh, yes?”

“I don’t believe it. Come here, I need to pinch you.”

“What? I’m not doing that!”

“I’ll come there then.”

“No—eck.”

Yuuji didn’t even see Gojou move, but there are fingers pinching his cheek and a toothy grin filling his vision, and his instinctive struggling does down as he processes the new proximity, the rest of the world fading to make room for the warmth and size of Gojou’s body. He’s so close to Yuuji, their chests almost touching, and more and more of his features burn themselves into Yuuji’s vision. His jaw is a sharp curve, the kind you could cut yourself on, and the rest of his face isn’t any better, painfully pretty. Yuuji can’t help noticing that his lips are cracked, without a hint of their usual glossy sheen. It only becomes more obvious when Gojou’s impish grin eases up, settling into a quiet, crooked smile.

Yuuji stares at them for a very long moment, his mouth drying out to match Gojou’s lips.

He looks up. Radioactive eyes gleam a hot blue, threatening to swallow him whole.

#goyuu #jjk snippets #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #wip wednesday #my fic #fic: how the story changes #divider credit: saradika-graphics

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