#i fell in love with them and their story! 💜 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astrxq · 4 months ago

Note

I watched Damsel with Millie Bobby Brown, and I was thinking it would make a great Jace x reader story, if you're taking requests. Something like him being the prince who has to fake a wedding and then offer her as a sacrifice on the mountain to the dragon, but ends up falling in love and decides to rescue her. Or maybe he is the dragon that is cursed, and would only return to human form if he found his soulmate, in this case the sacrifices (the girls were thrown into the dragon's pit) because otherwise he would burn down the city, just like in the film. - 💜

The Dragon's Bride

jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

words: 17k (oops?)

notes/warnings: non-canon events, description of blood/cuts (blood oath), religious guilt (jacaerys), kissing, angst??, slight ooc jacaerys and rhaenyra, mentions of death, animal death, jace's council SUCKS!!!

The weight of duty had never felt heavier on Prince Jacaerys’ shoulders as he stood before the ancient weirwood tree in the godswood of the Red Keep. The face carved into the trunk seemed to watch him with knowing eyes, judging his every thought and action.

Jacaerys ran a hand through his long-curly hair, and took a deep breath. The task before him was one he had dreaded since childhood, a burden passed down through generations of his family. As the heir to the Iron Throne, it fell to him to carry out this grim duty.

“My prince,” a voice called from behind him. Jacaerys turned to see one of the maesters approaching, his chain clinking softly with each step. The old man's face was etched with concern. “The Small Council awaits your presence. It is time to begin the selection process.”

Jacaerys nodded, his eyes clouded with resignation. “I'll be there shortly.”

As the maester retreated, Jacaerys cast one last glance at the heart tree. “Give me strength,” he whispered, though he wasn't sure if he was addressing the old gods, the new, or simply the universe itself.

The walk to the Small Council chamber felt like a march to his own execution. Each step echoed through the stone corridors, a countdown to a fate he couldn't escape. When he reached the ornate doors, he paused, steeling himself for what was to come. With a deep breath, he pushed them open and entered, two soldiers walking behind him.

The room fell silent as Jacaerys took his seat at the table.

Queen Rhaenyra spoke first, her voice steady. “My son, The dragon of Dragonstone grows restless,”

Jacaerys nodded, his throat tight. Still silent.

Ser Alfred leaned forward, his eyes sharp. “The tradition is clear, Your Grace. Prince Jacaerys must choose a lady from among the noble houses of Westeros. He will wed her in a ceremonial marriage, and then...” He trailed off, the unspoken fate hanging heavy in the air.

“And then I must take her to the dragon,” Jacaerys finished.

Lord Corlys, ever the pragmatist, spread a collection of scrolls on the table. “We have compiled a list of suitable candidates from houses loyal to the crown. Each lady comes from a family of impeccable lineage and has been deemed worthy of this... honor.”

As Jacaerys looked at the names before him, he couldn't help but feel a wave of nausea. Each name came with a charcoal drawing of the girls. These were not just names on parchment; they were living, breathing young women, each with hopes and dreams of their own. And he was to choose one to condemn to a terrible fate.

“May I have some time to consider?” he asked, his eyes meeting his mother's.

Queen Rhaenyra hesitated. She nodded, her expression softening slightly. “Of course.”

As the council members filed out of the room, Jacaerys remained seated, staring at the scrolls before him. The weight of his task pressed down on him, threatening to crush his spirit entirely.

Jacaerys stared at the scrolls spread before him, each one bearing the name and likeness of a young woman whose fate now rested in his hands. The charcoal drawings seemed to come alive under his gaze, eyes filled with hope and innocence that he would soon extinguish. His fingers trembled as he reached for the first scroll.

Jacaerys felt his breath coming faster, his heart pounding in his chest. One by one, Jacaerys examined the scrolls, each lady's face burning itself into his memory.

As the hours wore on, the faces began to blur together, a parade of innocent lives that he was tasked with judging. Who among them deserved this fate? How could he possibly make such a choice?

Jacaerys stood abruptly, pacing the length of the chamber. He ran his hands through his curly hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. The weight of his duty pressed down on him, threatening to suffocate him where he stood.

A knock at the door startled him from his thoughts. “Enter,” he called, his voice hoarse from disuse.

A servant girl entered, carrying a tray with bread, cheese, and wine. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace,” she said, bobbing a curtsy. “The Queen thought you might need sustenance.”

Jacaerys nodded absently, gesturing for her to set the tray on a side table. As she turned to leave, he caught sight of her face – young, perhaps a few years younger than himself.

“Wait,” he said, causing the girl to pause at the door, worried. “What is your name?”

She turned, surprise evident on her face. “Myra, Your Grace.”

“Myra,” he repeated, studying her. “Tell me, Myra, if you had to choose someone to... to face a great danger, how would you decide?”

The servant girl's eyes widened, clearly taken aback by the question. She fidgeted with her apron, considering her words carefully. “I... I suppose I would choose someone brave, Your Grace.”

Jacaerys nodded slowly. “And if all the choices seemed equally brave?”

Myra bit her lip, then said softly, “Then perhaps... the kindest one, Your Grace.”

With those words, she curtsied again and slipped out of the room, leaving Jacaerys alone with his thoughts once more.

He returned to the table, looking at the scrolls with fresh eyes. Brave and kind – could he discern those qualities from these brief descriptions and charcoal portraits?

As he sifted through the scrolls again, one caught his eye. He had overlooked it before, distracted by the more prominent houses. But now, something about it called to him.

Your name was written at the top in elegant script, followed by a brief description of your house and accomplishments. But it was the portrait that held his attention. The artist had captured a certain light in your eyes, a hint of a smile that spoke of warmth and courage.

Jacaerys found himself reading your description more closely. You were not from one of the great houses, but your lineage was respectable. What stood out were the small details – your love of books, your kindness to those less fortunate, the way you had once stood up to a local threat to protect a younger child.

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine you facing the dragon. In his mind's eye, he saw you standing tall, afraid but unbroken. He saw kindness in your gaze, even in the face of such terror.

Opening his eyes, Jacaerys looked at the other scrolls once more. Each lady was worthy in her own right, each life precious. But something about you called to him, a feeling he couldn't quite explain.

With a heavy heart, knowing the fate he was condemning you to, Jacaerys set your scroll aside. He had made his choice.

As dawn broke over King's Landing, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Jacaerys stood once more before the heart tree in the godswood. He pressed his palm against the rough bark, feeling the ancient power thrumming beneath.

“I've chosen,” he whispered to the carved face. “Gods help me, I've chosen.”

Jacaerys had never been one for prayer, nor had he put much stock in the gods, old or new. As a prince of the realm, his education had focused on matters of state, the intricacies of court politics, and the art of war. Faith had always seemed like an afterthought to him, a crutch for the weak. But as the time for this grim tradition approached, he found himself drawn to the godswood more and more frequently, seeking solace in the ancient silence of the heart tree.

The sound of a throat clearing shook him out of his thoughts, the same maester who had long-ago taught him to translate High Valyrian stood with his arms to his sides. “Emagon ao reached iā decision, ñuha dārilaros?” [Have you reached a decision, my prince?]

Jacaerys’ brows furrowed in deep contemplation.

“Eman,” [I have,] Jacaerys finally spoke, his voice carrying the weight of his decision. He glanced once more at the ancient weirwood, as if seeking guidance from the silent face carved into its trunk. “Prepare iā vōljes.” [Prepare a raven.]

The maester nodded solemnly. “To whom shall I send it, Your Grace?”

Without another word, Jacaerys reached for his pocket, pulling out the folded scroll with your name on it. He stared at it for a few seconds before, with an attempt of a steady hand, he handed it over.

The news of Prince Jacaerys' choice spread through the Red Keep like wildfire. Whispers filled the corridors, a mix of curiosity and pity for the unknown girl who had been selected for this “honor.” In the days that followed, preparations began in earnest for your arrival and the ceremonial wedding that would precede the grim journey to Dragonstone.

Jacaerys found himself both dreading and anticipating your arrival. He had made his choice, but the reality of what that meant hadn't fully sunk in yet. As he went about his daily duties, he couldn't shake the image of your portrait from his mind – the light in your eyes, the hint of a smile that had drawn him to you.

Every time he’d walk the halls, silence would follow, awkward stares from the staff and sometimes a hushed whisper that he’d pretend not to hear.

“Can you imagine? Poor thing, chosen to face the dragon,” he overheard once, making him clench his fists in frustration. “She's just a girl, freshly two tens of age.” another voice murmured sympathetically, but it offered him little comfort.

Despite the weight of duty pressing down on him, Jacaerys couldn't bring himself to discard the drawing. Instead, he kept it close, hidden away in a drawer beside his bed. Every night before he slept, he would retrieve it and stare at your likeness by the dim light of a candle. It wasn't a gesture of admiration or affection, but rather a self-imposed penance, a reminder of the destiny he had sealed for you.

In the quiet moments of the night, when the castle slept and he was alone with his thoughts, Jacaerys would silently plead to the gods. He didn't kneel before the heart tree anymore; he didn't utter formal prayers. Instead, his appeals were whispered in the darkness of his chamber, words of regret and sorrow that mingled with the flickering candlelight.

“Istin sagon punished isse ōdres syt se rest hen ñuha tubissa, syt eman ōdrikagon iā innocent.” [I must be punished in pain for the rest of my days, for i have hurt an innocent]

The court continued its whispered discussions about the impending ceremony, but Jacaerys withdrew further into himself. He attended council meetings and performed his princely duties with a stoic demeanor, hiding the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. There were moments when he almost reconsidered, when he almost resolved to defy tradition and spare you this fate. But each time, the weight of his lineage and the expectations of his people bore down upon him, forcing him back into the role he was destined to play.

The night before you were set to arrive, Jacaerys couldn't sleep. He paced his chambers, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. As the first light of dawn began to creep through his windows, he’d realized he hadn’t had a blink of sleep.

He stood at the window of his chambers, watching the sun rise over King's Landing. The city was already stirring, unaware of the personal turmoil of its future king. As he gazed out at the sprawling streets and towering buildings, Jacaerys couldn't help but notice the big blob of citizens, all awaiting at the stair’s entrance of the Keep,

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. “Enter,” he called, turning from the window.

A servant stepped into the room, bowing deeply. “Your Grace,” she said softly, “the Lady has arrived.”

Jacaerys nodded, his heart sinking at the news. The moment he had been dreading was finally here. He turned back to the window, taking one last look at the city before steeling himself for what lay ahead.

“Thank you,” he said to the servant, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I will be down shortly.”

As the heavy door closed behind her, echoing through the halls, Jacaerys took a deep breath, his mind racing. Finally, with a last, steadying breath, Jacaerys left his chambers and made his way down to the courtyard. The walk felt like a dream, each step echoing in the silent corridors of the Red Keep. Servants and guards stepped aside as he passed, their eyes filled with a mixture of respect and pity.

As he approached the grand entrance, he could hear the murmurs of the crowd outside. The people of King's Landing had gathered to witness the arrival of the chosen lady, their curiosity palpable in the air. Jacaerys squared his shoulders, bracing himself for the spectacle that awaited, his mother’s hand on his shoulder as a small-support for him.

As Jacaerys stepped out into the courtyard, the murmur of the crowd hushed to a reverent silence. Nobles and commoners alike pressed forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the prince and his chosen bride.

Jacaerys felt his breath catch in his throat as he laid eyes on you for the first time.

You were even more striking in person than your portrait had suggested. Your eyes, bright and intelligent, scanned the crowd before settling on Jacaerys.

Prince Jacaerys was beautiful, his long curly hair framing his face, his eyes intense as they met yours. You couldn't help but notice the dark circles under those eyes, the weariness that seemed to hang about him like a cloak.

Jacaerys descended the steps slowly, each movement deliberate and controlled. As he approached, you sank into a deep curtsy, your gaze lowering respectfully. “Your Grace,” you said, your voice steady despite the enormity of the moment. “I am honored by our betrothal.”

For a moment, Jacaerys found himself at a loss for words. He turned to look at his mother with a confused look on his face. You didn’t know? The Queen shook her head at him, so lightly that only he could notice.

He reached out, gently taking your hand and helping you to your feet.

“My lady,” he said softly, loud enough for you to hear but not for the eager crowd.

The murmurs of the crowd faded into the background as Jacaerys led you through the courtyard, his mother Queen Rhaenyra by his side and your family next to yours.

“Your Grace,” Jacaerys whispered, eyeing his mother. “I was not told that my betrothed didn’t know of the… arrangement.”

Queen Rhaenyra's gaze softened as she walked beside Jacaerys and you, the procession moving towards the Great Hall where the formalities would take place. Her voice was low, meant only for her son's ears amidst the murmurs of the courtiers and the lingering hush of the crowd.

“My son, there are matters of tradition that sometimes defy explanation,” she began, her tone tinged with empathy. “It is the way of our world, and you know as well as I do the weight of duty that rests upon us.”

Jacaerys glanced at his mother, a mixture of frustration and sorrow flickering in his eyes. “But she should have been informed,” he murmured quietly, his grip tightening subtly on your hand. You didn’t pay it any mind, as you were occupied speaking to your father, who reminded you – once again – of your duty to bring the Prince a babe to be the heir to his throne.

“I understand not telling the common folk, but, her?” He hushedly spat out, almost glaring at his mother, “She is to be fed to a dragon.”

Queen Rhaenyra sighed softly, her gaze turning ahead as they approached the Great Hall's grand entrance. “She will come to understand her role in time, Jacaerys. As will you,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of regret at the sight of her son’s worry.

He stole glances at you, trying to gauge your feelings, silently hoping that somehow, you might find a way to forgive the circumstances that had brought you both here. Once you sat at the Small Council table, ready to speak of the marriage that would take place in merely a few weeks, the room fell silent. You glanced around nervously, acutely aware of the attention shifting towards you and the Prince that sat straight by your side.

“My daughter knows her duty,” Your father started, making one of the maesters clear his throat in discomfort, Jacaerys glared at the old man. “She is healthy, and able to bring a babe to the world.”

You nodded, trying to hide the tremble in your hands.

Jacaerys turned his head to look at you, your furrowed brows as you listened to his mother explain how the ceremony of your wedding was going to play off. He clenched his fists on the table, trying to hide his overwhelmedness by taking a long sip out of his wine.

The meeting was a blur for Jacaerys, his mind not allowing him to pay attention to any of the preparations, all he could think about was the innocent look on your face, unknowing of your fate, and the stern look of his own Council, awaiting for the day to come.

Eventually, after having had enough of listening to your families’ planning, he stood. “Excuse me,” he voiced, offering his hand for you to take as the room fell silent. “Me and my betrothed will leave you to it, we will walk together.”

You glanced around nervously, uncertain of the proper protocol, but your father nodded in approval, prompting you to take Jacaerys' hand. His hand was cold, he rushed the two of you out of the room and out to the gardens, he didn’t speak until you stepped out of the Keep.

“You know,” he began, breaking the silence, “I used to spend a lot of time here as a child. My mother would bring me to the gardens to escape the formality of court. It was my sanctuary.”

You listened intently, intrigued. “It's beautiful,” you replied softly, glancing around at the serene landscape. “I can see why.”

“I apologize for the abruptness back there,” he began, his voice soft but tinged with a hint of urgency. “It's... overwhelming, all of this. I wanted to give us a moment away from all the... planning and discussions.”

You glanced at him, noticing the tension in his jawline, the weight that seemed to press down on his broad shoulders. His gaze was distant, as if wrestling with thoughts beyond the present moment.

“I... I wanted to ask how you are,” he continued, his tone tentative. “This must all be quite... unexpected for you.”

“It is... a lot to take in,” you admitted quietly, choosing your words with care. “But it is an honor to marry the Prince.”

Jacaerys nodded, though his expression remained troubled. He attempted to push down the burning feeling in his stomach, the guilt eating at him.

Silence fell between you for a moment, the distant sound of birdsong and the gentle rustle of leaves providing a backdrop to your conversation. Jacaerys seemed to gather his thoughts before speaking again.

“What do you enjoy doing?” he asked suddenly, his curiosity genuine. “Aside from the obvious duties and expectations... What brings you joy?”

The question caught you off guard, but you appreciated the chance to speak of something beyond the weight of your impending marriage. “I love books,” you confessed with a small smile. “I used to sneak away to a small library in our keep,” you confided, a hint of nostalgia in your voice. “It was quiet, away from the noise of daily life. I could lose myself in the pages for hours.”

He almost sighed when he saw a small smile creeping on your face as you spoke of your memories. “That sounds wonderful,” he said softly, his voice tinged with melancholy. “I... I hope you'll find some comfort in the library here, during your stay.”

You nodded, grateful for his consideration. “I look forward to exploring it. Do you have any favorite books or subjects, Your Grace?”

Jacaerys seemed to relax a bit at the change of topic. “Please, when we're alone like this, call me Jacaerys,” he said with a small smile. “And yes, I've always been fascinated by the histories of Old Valyria. The tales of dragons and ancient magic... they're quite captivating.”

“Jacaerys,” you repeated, testing the name on your lips. “I'd love to hear more about that. We don't have many books on Valyria where I'm from.”

He brightened a bit. “Really? Well, there's this one volume about the Doom that's particularly interesting. It theorizes about what might have caused it.”

As you walked, Jacaerys began to explain some of the theories, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. He aimlessly walked you to the library, you followed his steps as he spoke. You couldn’t help but notice the looks the servants gave you, almost pitiful, as you walked past them.

Some whispered, covering their mouths with their hand so it would stay a secret. Jacaerys didn’t pay it any mind, his hand moving to lock both of your index fingers as he kept spitting out everything he’d learned about the Doom’s theories.

As you entered the grand library, your eyes widened in awe. Shelves upon shelves of books stretched as far as you could see, their spines glinting in the soft light filtering through high windows.

Jacaerys watched your reaction with a small smile. “Impressive, isn't it? I thought you might appreciate it.”

You nodded, still taking in the sight. “It's magnificent. I could spend years here and never read everything.”

Jacaerys led you deeper into the library, his fingers still lightly entwined with yours. “Let me show you some of my favorite sections,” he said, guiding you through the towering stacks.

As you walked, Jacaerys pointed out various tomes and scrolls, explaining their significance. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself relaxing, asking questions and sharing your own thoughts.

“Here,” Jacaerys said, pulling a large, leather-bound volume from a shelf. “This is the book on the Doom of Valyria I mentioned. Would you like to look at it together?”

You nodded eagerly, and Jacaerys led you to a nearby reading nook. As you sat side by side, heads bent over the ancient text, the weight of your circumstances seemed to lift momentarily. For a little while, you were just two people sharing a passion for knowledge and history.

You recognized High Valyrian words you’d learned here and there, but were grateful that Jacaerys patiently explained the meaning of each passage aloud.

“Se sīr īles foretold ondoso se scribes hen Valyria bona se vējes would māzigon bē īlva, heralded ondoso iā rōvēgrie shaking hen tegon se iā sȳndror bona would swallow se vēzos.” [And so it was foretold by the scribes of Valyria that the Doom would come upon us, heralded by a great shaking of the earth and a darkness that would swallow the sun.]

His voice resonated softly in the library's hallowed silence, you’d noticed his tense demeanor from hours earlier had eased into a more relaxed and gentle attitude.

As the families concluded their meeting in the Great Hall, the formalities of the betrothal were settled. You were to remain at the Red Keep under the watchful eye of Queen Rhaenyra and her court, preparing for the ceremonial wedding that would precede the journey to Dragonstone. Jacaerys escorted you back to your temporary chambers, a solemn air hanging between you.

Inside the quiet sanctum of your quarters, away from prying eyes, Jacaerys finally allowed his guard to drop. He paced restlessly, his fingers running through his hair in frustration. “I'm sorry,” he blurted out suddenly, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to miss your home.”

You watched Jacaerys with concern, his sudden outburst catching you off guard. “Your Gr- Jacaerys,” you corrected yourself, remembering his earlier request. “It's alright. I knew when I was chosen that I would have to leave my home behind. It's part of my duty.”

He looked like he wanted to push the conversation, to speak his mind, but he simply shut his mouth and nodded once. “Very well.”

An awkward silence fell between you. There was clearly something unsaid hanging in the air, but neither of you seemed willing or able to address it directly.

Finally, Jacaerys cleared his throat. “I should let you rest. It's been a long day, and I'm sure you'd like some time to settle in.” He moved towards the door, then paused, turning back to you. “If you need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. I want you to feel at home here.”

That night, Jacaerys found himself staring at the canopy above his bed, unable to find solace in sleep once again. The events of the day weighed heavily on his mind, particularly the encounter with you, the chosen lady whose fate he now bore responsibility for. He tossed and turned, unable to shake the image of your face – bright, hopeful, and utterly unaware of the doom that awaited you.

He sat up abruptly, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Gods, forgive me,” he whispered into the stillness of the night. He repeated what he did each night, the only sounds in the room being his own whispers.

As Jacaerys whispered his nightly plea for forgiveness, the weight of his decision pressed down on him more heavily than ever before. Meeting you in person, seeing your bright eyes and hearing your voice, had made the reality of his choice painfully tangible.

It was a cruel twist of fate that someone with such a love for knowledge and life should be destined for… He couldn't even bring himself to think the words.

Unable to find peace, Jacaerys rose from his bed, wrapping a cloak around his shoulders to fend off the chill of the night. He left his chambers quietly, the corridors of the Red Keep almost deserted at this late hour. Only the occasional guard patrolled the hallways, their presence a silent reminder of the ever-watchful eyes of the realm.

He found his feet leading him to the godswood once more, drawn to the ancient heart tree that had witnessed so much over the centuries. The rustling leaves seemed to whisper secrets as he approached, the carved face staring down at him with its perpetual expression of knowing.

“Why have you done this to me?” Jacaerys asked, his voice a broken whisper. “Why have you placed this burden on my shoulders?”

The tree, of course, offered no answer. It stood silent and stoic, a testament to the countless generations who had sought its guidance and solace.

“Old gods,” he whispered, his voice trembling, “I don't know if you can hear me, or if you even care. But I need your guidance. I need to find a way to fulfill my duty without losing my soul in the process.”

The face carved into the tree seemed to watch him with those same knowing eyes, offering no answers, only silent judgment.

Jacaerys sank to his knees before the heart tree, the weight of his duty pressing down on him with unbearable force. The faces of the young women whose fates he had held in his hands swirled in his mind, but it was your face that haunted him the most. The way you had looked at him with trust and curiosity, unaware of the doom he had chosen for you.

The Prince had fallen asleep at the feet of the heart tree, woken up by his Queen’s scolding gaze and her sharp voice as she shook his arm. “Wake up, Jacaerys!” Queen Rhaenyra's voice cut through the early morning stillness of the godswood. Her hand shook his arm gently but insistently until he stirred, groggy and disoriented.

Jacaerys blinked up at his mother, the reality of where he was and what awaited him crashing back with painful clarity. “Mother – Your Grace.” he murmured, rubbing his eyes as he rose to his feet, feeling the ache in his bones from sleeping on the hard ground.

“You should be resting in your chambers, not sleeping out in the godswood like some lost soul!”

He hummed, throat sore from the cold air of the night, as his Queen dragged him inside holding onto his wrist. Jacaerys followed his mother back to the Red Keep in a fog, the events of the previous night and the weight of his decisions still heavy on his mind. Queen Rhaenyra's scolding was just a distant echo to him as they walked through the quiet corridors, servants bowing respectfully as they passed.

They walked by the Grand Hall, he managed to makeout your sitting figure, all alone, with a full plate in front of you as one of the servants poured juice into the cups. At the loud, angry steps that scurried in the hall, you lifted your eyes to meet his for a split moment before he was dragged away to his own chambers to compose himself.

“Your betrothed is sat at the table, waiting, and you’re out asleep in the gardens.”

Jacaerys felt a pang of embarrassment as he remembered the fleeting glance he had exchanged with you through the grand hall. It was bad enough to be caught by his mother and scolded like a child, but to have you witness such a moment of vulnerability added another layer of discomfort.

Once safely within his chambers, the embarrassment deepened. He leaned heavily against the door, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to steady himself. He readied himself, not bothering to call the servants, and approached the Great Hall.

It was silent, all he could hear as he walked in was the sounds of his youngest siblings playing with their food. Approaching you, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. You looked up as he approached, your expression a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Jacaerys cleared his throat, unsure of how to begin.

“My lady,” he began softly, “I apologize for my absence.”

You looked at him, your eyes searching his face for understanding. “It's quite alright,” you replied with a small smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

He noticed a thick book sitting next to your feast, the old worn-out cover with the carved in title he recognized from the section he’d shown you the day before. “The Doom of Valyria,” Jacaerys noted with a slight surprise, gesturing towards the book. “You found it interesting?”

You nodded, a genuine spark of enthusiasm brightening your expression. “I figured we could look at it together. I thought it might help me understand more about... well, everything,” you admitted softly, your gaze flickering briefly to the book before returning to meet his eyes.

Jacaerys nodded, feeling his mother’s eyes move to him in a warning. Don’t get attached.

He didn’t initiate another topic of conversation, casting the room in silence while you had your breakfast. The Queen stood, taking her youngest son into her arms while two other servants followed behind with the other kids, leaving you alone in the Hall.

“We can look at it now, if you wish.” he spoke, hand reaching for the book once he’d finished drinking his cup. You nodded eagerly, grateful for the opportunity to delve into something other than the weighty expectations of your impending marriage. You both moved to a quieter corner of the Great Hall, away from the prying eyes of the courtiers who lingered nearby.

Jacaerys settled onto the floor, patting the space beside him. “Come on, it's more comfortable down here,” he said with a grin.

You laughed softly, gathering your skirts as you joined him. “If anyone walks in, they'll think we've lost our minds.”

“Let them,” Jacaerys chuckled, opening the book across both your laps. “Now, where shall we start?”

Your eyes skimmed the pages, landing on an illustration of a great city. “What's this?”

“Ah, Old Valyria at its height,” Jacaerys explained, his finger tracing the intricate drawing. “See those spires? They say they were forged by dragonfire.”

“It's beautiful,” you murmured, leaning in closer. Your shoulder brushed against his, and you felt a small thrill at the contact.

Jacaerys turned his head, his face now inches from yours. He hummed before he cleared his throat, a smile playing at his lips. “Did you know they had a saying? 'Valar morghulis.'“

“What does that mean?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“All men must die,” Jacaerys translated, his voice low.

You raised an eyebrow. “Cheerful bunch, weren't they?”

He chuckled, fingers playing with the edge of the page before turning it. The text was dense with Valyrian history and conjecture, but Jacaerys patiently translated and explained each passage to you.

After a while, as if unable to contain his turmoil any longer, Jacaerys cleared his throat softly, breaking the companionable silence. “My lady,” he began, his voice tinged with regret, “I must apologize once more for my absence this morrow. It was... inconsiderate of me to leave you waiting.”

You looked up from the book, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and understanding. “Jacaerys, it's alright,” you assured him gently, “And, please, you must call me by my name as well.”

He nodded once, turning his head to the book again, then back at you, “I wasn’t… out, I fell asleep in the gardens.”

You felt a small wave of relief wash over you and tilted your head slightly, studying his expression. “It must have been a rough night,” you said softly, empathizing with the weight he carried. “I understand.”

“I didn't mean for you to witness me like that. It was... unbecoming.”

“It is only human to seek solace,” you replied gently, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Even princes need moments of peace.”

He nodded, a faint smile touching his own lips in return. You hummed in thought at Jacaerys’ silence, a beat passed, “If I am to marry the prince, I shall better my High Valyrian.”

His face tensed, holding back a frown at the thought of you not having enough time to learn the language before… the day. “I can assist you with that, if you'd like,” he finally said.

You felt a surge of relief at his offer. You turned your head to the book, focusing on Jacaerys’ explanation once again. Before he could continue, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall. A servant appeared, bowing low.

“Your Grace, my Lady,” he said, lying through his teeth, “The Small Council requests Prince Jacaerys' presence immediately.”

Jacaerys sighed, the weight of his responsibilities settling back onto his shoulders. He stood, offering you a hand to help you up as well. He gave you a small smile before closing the book and handing it off to you.

“I am sure there is a High Valyrian dictionary somewhere, feel free to roam the library.” he said finally before turning to follow the servant to his awaiting family.

You watched Jacaerys leave, the book heavy in your hands. His sudden departure left you feeling oddly bereft, the warmth of your shared moment fading as quickly as it had come.

With a soft sigh, you made your way back to the library. The vast room felt different now without Jacaerys' presence – larger, more intimidating. You wandered through the towering shelves, searching for the dictionary he had mentioned.

Finally locating the book, you settled into a comfortable chair near a window. Sunlight streamed in, illuminating the pages as you began to study.

Hours passed, the light shifting as the sun traversed the sky. You had made some progress with your studies, but questions continued to gnaw at you. You tapped your foot repeatedly on the ground as you stared at the closed doors of the Small Council in the distance, having seen Jacaerys walk out hours before but having been too slow to catch up to him before he left for his chambers again.

As evening approached, a servant appeared to escort you to dinner. You followed, your mind still churning with unanswered questions. The dining hall was quiet, with only a few courtiers present. Jacaerys was noticeably absent.

“Where is Prince Jacaerys?” you asked the servant as she poured your wine.

“Still in council, my lady,” she replied, her eyes darting away quickly. “They've been at it all day.”

You nodded, picking at your food without much appetite. The absence of Jacaerys only heightened your sense of unease. Something was happening, something beyond the typical preparations for a royal wedding.

You retired to your chambers, the High Valyrian dictionary tucked under your arm. As you prepared for bed, you muttered to yourself the few words you’d memorized.

“Dārilaros Jacaerys,” [Prince Jacaerys] “Iksi naejot sagon dīnagon.” [We are to be wed.] you repeated softly to yourself, the unfamiliar words echoing in the quiet of your chambers. The weight of those words, of your impending marriage to Prince Jacaerys, hung heavily in the air.

You’d figured Jacaerys had begun to ignore you, a week went by and the servant’s lie about the Small Council no longer held up. A week had passed, each day stretching out with an almost unbearable tension.

Every day, you found yourself in the grand library, delving deeper into the pages of history and language, trying to distract yourself from the growing unease. You studied diligently, but your mind often wandered back to Jacaerys, how every time you walked past him in the halls he’d turn his head, how he’d scurry away after having spent the meals in silence with his family and you sitting next to him.

The whispers and pitying glances from servants and courtiers alike only added to your discomfort.

One evening, as you sat in the library poring over your High Valyrian studies, you heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. Looking up, you saw Jacaerys standing at the edge of the shelves, his expression a mixture of guilt and hesitation.

He called your name softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I... I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

You shook your head, gesturing for him to join you. “Not at all, Your Grace. I've been hoping to speak with you.”

Jacaerys moved closer, taking a seat across from you. His eyes fell on the open books spread before you, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “You've been studying diligently, I see.”

“Yes,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

Jacaerys once again fell into silence. His small smile faded, replaced by a look of deep concern and inner turmoil. The warmth that had briefly appeared in his eyes dimmed, shadows of worry creeping back into his expression. You watched as he seemed to retreat into himself, his posture stiffening, his gaze growing distant.

Despite your hopes for a longer conversation, for a moment of genuine connection, Jacaerys soon excused himself. His words were polite but hurried, his tone apologetic yet firm. As he left, you felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air between you. Once more, you found yourself alone with your books, the silence of the library seeming to mock your growing frustration.

The pattern continued throughout the weeks, becoming a painful dance of near misses and avoided glances. During meals, Jacaerys would keep his eyes fixed on his plate, responding to questions with short, noncommittal answers. His shoulders would tense whenever you entered a room, and he would find reasons to leave shortly after.

In the corridors of the Red Keep, your paths would cross, but any hope of conversation was quickly dashed. Jacaerys would offer a hurried nod, his pace quickening as he passed by. You began to feel like a ghost in your own home, unseen and unheard by the very man you were to marry.

As evening approached and the anticipation of the upcoming wedding ceremony weighed heavily on your mind, the silence became unbearable. The thought of entering into a union shrouded in such secrecy and distance filled you with dread. Questions swirled in your mind, each unanswered inquiry adding to your growing resolve.

You decided you couldn't bear the silence any longer. The need for answers, for some semblance of understanding, outweighed your fear of confrontation. With determination setting in your jaw and courage steeling your spine, you made the decision to seek out Jacaerys and demand the truth, whatever it might be.

Just before bedtime, you spotted Jacaerys walking down the hallway towards his chambers. Gathering your courage, you called out to him.

“Issi ao dobōtēdrā nyke?” [Are you ignoring me?] Your pronunciation was still rough, but he wouldn’t tell you that.

Jacaerys froze at the sound of your voice, his hand resting on the handle of his chamber door. He turned slowly, his eyes wide with surprise at your use of High Valyrian. For a moment, he seemed to struggle with how to respond.

“No,” he said softly, his voice barely audible in the quiet hallway.

You stepped closer, your frustration evident in your posture and the set of your jaw. “What is it, then?” Your words were stilted, nerves eating at you. “The wedding is tomorrow, Jacaerys. I've been left in the dark, treated like a ghost in these halls. The servants whisper about me, everyone looks at me like they pity me. And my own betrothed ignores me.”

Your outburst seemed to startle him. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you'd come to recognize as a sign of his distress. “You're right,” he said finally, his shoulders sagging. “I apologize.” Jacaerys hesitated, clearly wrestling with his thoughts. “I... I'm sorry for my behavior. It's not fair to you.”

You stepped closer, your frustration bubbling over. “No, it's not. We're to be married tomorrow, and I barely know you. Everyone in this castle looks at me with pity, and you can't even bear to speak to me. What am I supposed to think?”

Jacaerys winced at your words. “It's complicated,” he said softly, avoiding your gaze.

“Then explain it to me,” you pressed, your voice rising slightly. “I've left my home, my family, everything I've ever known. The least you could do is tell me why you've been avoiding me like I'm afflicted with greyscale.”

“I cannot do that,”

You huffed, he ran a hand through his hair again, clearly agitated. “I can't... I can't tell you everything. Please, try to understand.”

“Understand what?” you pressed, your patience wearing thin. “That my future husband would rather pretend I don't exist? That everyone in this castle looks at me with pity, and I don't know why?”

Jacaerys opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, shaking his head. “I'm sorry,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I truly am. But I can't... I can't do this right now.”

With that, he turned and retreated into his chambers, leaving you standing alone in the hallway, your frustration and confusion only growing.

You stared at his closed door for a long moment, anger and hurt warring within you. Finally, with a huff of exasperation, you turned and stormed off to your own chambers.

In your chambers, you paced restlessly, the events of the evening replaying in your mind. Jacaerys' evasiveness had left you feeling isolated and uncertain, the weight of unanswered questions pressing down on you. You glanced at the High Valyrian dictionary on your bedside table, its pages now familiar but offering no solace.

You’d fallen asleep quickly, the sound of hurried footsteps woke you and only then did you realize it was already dawn. A flurry of activity surrounded you. Servants bustled about, preparing you for the ceremony. You donned the gown chosen for you, feeling more like a doll being dressed than a bride preparing for her wedding day.

Jacaerys refused to meet your eyes once you stood in front of each other, the privacy of the ceremony surprised you, only his family present and a few of the maesters. Words felt like a blur, you looked down at your hands that were wrapped in his, the priestess’ speech didn’t make you pay any more attention than you already were, too focused on hoping for this to end soon.

“May the gods bear witness to this union. As you now pledge your troth to one another, let it be known that your fates are bound by blood and by honor.”

You only snapped out of your haze when you felt Jacaerys’ warm hands leave yours, and reappear in your line of sight with a silver knife. He held one of your hands, placing it on his before drawing blood, thinning the action careful to not hurt you. Then he moved the blade to your lips, a small, simple cut to them before he handed you the tool.

You did the same, mirroring his every move, he shut his eyes when your cold blade reached his mouth, barely reacting to the cut. Then, a kiss, like the priestess called. Jacaerys cupped your cheek, his bloodied hand holding onto yours, and the taste of blood quickly filled your mouth. It was a slow kiss, just one, and he pulled away with a sigh.

His thumb ran over your cheek once more before he took a step back, offering you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding. You dabbed delicately at your lips with the handkerchief, your mind reeling from the sudden intimacy of the kiss. Jacaerys' touch lingered on your cheek, leaving a tingling sensation.

The ceremony concluded with ceremonial words and blessings, but as you stood beside Jacaerys, you couldn't shake the feeling of disconnection between you. His demeanor remained distant, his eyes often flickering away whenever you sought to meet them.

After the formalities, you found yourself in a small antechamber adjacent to the grand hall where the ceremony had taken place. Jacaerys was silent as attendants bustled around, preparing to escort you away from the ceremony.

“Jacaerys,” you began tentatively, searching for some semblance of understanding or connection, “Can we talk?”

His shoulders slumped, eyes carrying a tire and sadness heavier than the one you’d been seeing for the past weeks. He didn’t hear you, at least that’s what you told yourself as he stood and walked away from you once again, leaving you sat with the stained handkerchief in your hands.

You huffed, anger running through you as you hurried after him. You find him at the heart tree, its ancient branches looming over him like silent sentinels. Jacaerys stood before it, his hands clenched at his sides, his gaze fixed on the carved face of the tree. His expression was haunted, burdened with the weight of secrets and responsibilities. He mumbled in High Valyrian words that you had still not learned on your own.

“Jacaerys,” you called out softly, approaching him cautiously. He turned to you, his eyes weary. “I didn't mean to startle you,” you continued, your voice gentle yet tinged with the frustration that had been building within you for weeks.

He sighed heavily, “I thought you might come,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely carrying over the rustling leaves of the godswood.

“Why won't you talk to me?” you asked, your voice breaking slightly with emotion. “We're married now, Jacaerys. Avoiding your wife is far harder than avoiding your betrothed.”

Jacaerys turned to face you fully, the weight of his responsibilities etched deeply into his expression. His gaze softened as he took in your presence, the frustration in your voice not lost on him. “I didn't mean to shut you out,” he began, his voice tinged with regret. “I am sorry.”

You stepped closer, standing beside him beneath the ancient heart tree, its presence casting a tranquil yet solemn atmosphere around you. He didn’t speak, both of you staying silent while he shut his eyes, the weariness still evident on his face.

“Do you come here often?” you broke the silence once it got too quiet, too tense.

He nodded, “I do,”

“I didn’t know you were faithful to the gods.” you stated, hand moving to touch the tree, his eyes followed your movements carefully.

He hesitated, his gaze drifting from your hand on the tree back to your eyes. “I seek guidance here,” he admitted quietly, his voice carrying the weight of vulnerability. “It doesn’t always come to me, but-” he stopped talking, shrugging before he let his hand fall from the tree, yours following suit.

“Mother said it would be easier to avoid you,” he mumbled, his voice seemingly weakening. You found yourself reaching out to him, your hand brushed against his, fingers intertwining gently as you stood beneath the heart tree together.

“What would?”

“The marriage, everything, I don’t know.”

Jacaerys didn’t pull away from your touch, though his expression remained guarded. His hand felt warm in yours, the tension in his shoulders gradually easing. The quiet of the godswood enveloped you both.

“But we’re married now, Jacaerys.” you murmured softly, squeezing his hand gently.

Jacaerys' expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Can we start anew?”

“I would like that,” you said, returning his smile. A comfortable silence fell between you, the tension of the past weeks beginning to ease.

“Perhaps,” Jacaerys suggested hesitantly, “we could continue our High Valyrian lessons together? I've missed our time in the library.”

Your face brightened at the suggestion. “I'd like that very much. I have so many questions about the Doom of Valyria that I've been saving up for you.”

Jacaerys chuckled, a warm sound that you realized you'd missed hearing. “Well then, we'd better get started.”

With a tight hold on your hand, he pulled you gently towards the castle. As you walked back together, a sense of cautious optimism filled the air between you. The silence was no longer tense, but contemplative, as if you were both considering the new beginning that lay ahead.

Entering the grand library, Jacaerys guided you to the familiar corner where you had spent so many hours studying together. He selected a few books from the shelves, their leather bindings worn with age and use. As he set them down on the table, dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through the high windows.

Jacaerys looked up at you, his expression softening as he met your gaze. “I chose a few books that might interest you,” he said, his voice gentle. “But perhaps we could talk about these past weeks. I’ve missed you, you know?”

Jacaerys' words hung in the air, the unexpected admission causing a flutter in your chest. You settled into the familiar chair beside him, the scent of old parchment and the quiet rustle of pages creating a comforting cocoon around you both. Despite the turmoil of the past weeks, this small corner of the library had become a refuge, a place where the outside world and its burdens seemed to fade away.

You looked at Jacaerys, his expression open and earnest, the guarded demeanor he had worn like armor slipping away. “I've missed you too,” you replied softly, the truth of your words resonating in the silence that followed.

He gave a small, grateful nod, his fingers absently tracing the edge of one of the books. “Have you been studying on your own?” he began, his voice tinged with regret.

You shrugged, “Hm, There was no one to teach me,”

“There are plenty of maesters, they taught me and my brothers-”

“Nobody in this castle really speaks to me, other than you, now.”

Jacaerys' eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and sorrow at your words. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again, seemingly at a loss. The silence between you grew heavy, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. “It’s alright,” you interrupted his thoughts, “Have you any favorite spots in the Keep?”

Jacaerys smiled at your attempt to lighten the mood, clearly grateful for your effort. “I do, actually,” he said, a hint of enthusiasm returning to his voice. “There's a balcony overlooking Blackwater Bay. It's quiet and the view is breathtaking, especially at sunset.”

You nodded, intrigued. “I'd love to see it. Perhaps we can go there sometime?”

Jacaerys' smile widened, his eyes brightening. “I'd like that very much. How about after our lesson today?”

“That sounds perfect,” you agreed, a grin plastered on your face.

Jacaerys began explaining the text, his voice steady and patient. As he spoke, you found yourself not just listening to the words, but also watching him – the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about, the way his fingers moved delicately over the pages. You pretended not to pay any mind to the arm he’d draped over your chair half way through the page you were on at the moment, his fingertips moving up and down your arm and playing with your hair every now and then.

Time seemed to fly by, and before you knew it, the afternoon sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the library. Jacaerys glanced out the window, then back at you. “Shall we go, then?” he asked.

You nodded, feeling a flutter of excitement. Jacaerys led you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, his hand in yours, the path becoming more familiar with each step. Finally, you arrived at the balcony he had described.

“It's beautiful,” you murmured, gazing out at the water sparkling under the setting sun.

Jacaerys nodded, his eyes on you. His hand moved to your backside, gently resting there, he drew you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. You leaned into him, feeling a warmth spread through you at his touch.

“We could go on a walk after supper,” Jacaerys whispered, his voice barely audible above the soft sounds of the waves.

For the first time since arriving at the Red Keep, you felt a glimmer of what could be between you and Jacaerys.

With a soft sigh of contentment, you turned to Jacaerys and met his gaze, your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “A walk sounds nice.” you said, your voice filled with newfound determination and a hint of excitement.

The weeks that followed were a gradual thawing of the ice that had formed between you, a slow but steady warming that began to transform your arranged marriage into something more.

True to his word, Jacaerys resumed your High Valyrian lessons in the library. What started as stilted, formal sessions soon evolved into hours of animated discussion and shared laughter between the two of you, melting away the image of duty-headed Prince Jacaerys. You found yourself looking forward to these moments, eagerly anticipating the smallest hint of time you would spend together.

“Skoros iksis aōha glaesagon uttoma raqiros?” [What is your favorite animal?]

You pondered for a moment, searching for the right words. “Ñuha glaesagon uttoma raqiros iksis... zaldrīzes? Hen se tembyr.” [My favorite animal is... dragon? From the books.]

Jacaerys' smile faltered for a brief moment, so quickly you almost missed it. But then he was grinning again, praising you. “That was really good.”

Moving on, he flipped the page, continuing the lesson as you practiced more High Valyrian together. His patience and encouragement helped you gain confidence in both the language and your interactions with him.

Outside the library, your walks with Jacaerys became a routine. He showed you hidden corners of the Red Keep, sharing stories of its history and his own childhood adventures. You, in turn, shared tales of your own homeland, finding common ground in unexpected places.

As the days passed, you began to see a different side of Jacaerys. The brooding, distant prince was replaced by a man with a quick wit and a passion for knowledge that matched your own. You discovered his love for astronomy, often finding him on the castle's highest tower, charting the movements of stars and planets.

One clear night, he invited you to join him. As you climbed the winding stairs, your heart raced with a mixture of exertion and anticipation. When you reached the top, Jacaerys was waiting, a bronze tube in his hands gleaming in the moonlight.

“I thought you might enjoy this,” he said softly, gesturing for you to look through the eyepiece.

“What is it?” you asked as he handed it to you, you inspected it, mirrored his moves and looked through it.

“To look at the stars,” he came behind you, hands covering yours. Jacaerys stood close behind you, his breath warm on your neck as he pointed out constellations and explained their mythologies that he’d read about in books. You found yourself acutely aware of his presence, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the summer night.

These moments of closeness became more frequent as the weeks went by. You would catch Jacaerys watching you with a soft expression when he thought you weren't looking. His hand would linger on yours a moment longer than necessary when passing you a book. The air between you began to crackle with an unspoken tension, a growing attraction neither of you dared to acknowledge openly, even as husband and wife.

Jacaerys kept visiting the heart tree, his begs for a punishment getting bigger and bigger as he got to know you, the weight of the fate he’d put you up to too strong for him to bear.

After a particularly tense council session, you found Jacaerys in the godswood, his head bowed before the heart tree. You approached quietly, not wanting to disturb his contemplation.

“You can join me, you know?” he said without turning, a small smile in his voice. “I always know when you're near.”

You moved to stand beside him, your shoulder brushing against his. Jacaerys was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the carved face of the weirwood. “They ignore me, I think,” he mumbled. “The gods.”

You listened quietly, feeling the weight of his words. The godswood was serene around you, the rustling leaves and the faint whisper of wind creating a backdrop to Jacaerys' contemplation. You didn't interrupt, letting him speak at his own pace.

“I've prayed for guidance, for clarity,” Jacaerys continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I've received nothing. No sign, no answers.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugged at something inside you. You glanced at the heart tree, its solemn face seemingly watching over both of you. “Maybe the gods speak in ways we don't always recognize,” you offered gently. “Or perhaps they're waiting for you to find your own path.”

Jacaerys sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I'm not sure I know what that path is anymore.”

He trailed off, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. You reached out, cupping his face gently in your hands. “Jacaerys,” you murmured.

For a moment, it seemed as though he might tell you everything. His eyes searched for yours, filled with a longing that made your heart ache. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, the moment passed. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t want you to suffer,” he whispered, his breath warm on your skin. You sighed, running your palm over his chest and holding his hand. “Have you been sleeping?”

He nodded, “Yes, a little,” Jacaerys admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand tightened around yours, seeking comfort in your touch. “I find it hard to rest sometimes.”

You nodded sympathetically, your thumb gently tracing circles on the back of his hand. The godswood was peaceful around you, the soft rustle of leaves and the distant song of a bird filling the air.

“Come on.” you mumbled, tightening your hold on his hand to walk him to his chambers, hoping that sleep would make his worry go away.

The atmosphere in the council chamber had been tense for days. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that only comes when a significant decision hangs in the balance.

Jacaerys sat at the head of the table, his expression solemn. Beside him, Queen Rhaenyra watched with a mixture of maternal concern and royal composure.

“Prince Jacaerys,” one of the maesters began, his voice steady but with a note of urgency. “The time has come to finalize our preparations. The court and the realm await your decision regarding the next steps. Dragonstone must be prepared to receive its... visitor.”

Jacaerys clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of their eyes on him. He had known this moment was inevitable, but that did nothing to ease the dread that coiled in his stomach. He looked to his mother, seeking any sign of support or reprieve, but her face remained unreadable. She had taught him well about the burdens of leadership, but this was a trial he had to face alone.

“My lords,” he said finally, his voice betraying none of the turmoil within him. “I understand the importance of tradition and the necessity of the ritual. However, the lady is... not ready.”

Ser Alfred, ever the traditionalist, did not miss a beat. “Your Grace, the ritual must be completed as dictated by our customs. The dragons are restless, and we cannot afford any delay. Dragonstone awaits her arrival.”

Jacaerys's hands tightened around the armrests of his chair. He had expected resistance, but the reality of it was far more daunting than he had imagined. The council's resolve was unyielding, their eyes reflecting the hard truth that duty often demands sacrifices.

“Can’t the dragon be fed… sheep, or pigs?”

“The tradition is sacred, Prince Jacaerys. It is through these rituals that we maintain our bond with the dragon and ensure it’s calm. To suggest an alternative is to risk breaking a chain that has bound our house for centuries.”

Jacaerys felt the pressure mounting, the room closing in around him. He looked to his mother once more, her face a mask of calm. But there was a flicker in her eyes, a silent communication that only he could interpret – a plea to tread carefully.

Queen Rhaenyra finally spoke, her voice smooth and commanding. “The Prince raises a valid point. However, the choice has already been made, the preparations have already begun in Dragonstone.”

Jacaerys’s heart sank at his mother’s words. The finality of the preparations being underway in Dragonstone echoed the inevitability he had been trying to avoid. The room seemed to close in on him, the expectations of his ancestors and the weight of the realm pressing down on his shoulders. He pressed his lips tightly together, grinding his teeth in frustration.

The council resumed their discussions, the tension palpable in the air. Jacaerys listened as the members debated the logistics of the journey to Dragonstone, the protocols to be followed, and the necessary preparations for the lady. Every word felt like a dagger twisting in his gut, each mention of the ritual reinforcing the grim reality he wished to avoid.

He was being ignored by his own Council, his mother and queen quietly sipping her wine as she stole glances at him.

The same maester from before concluded, “We will proceed as planned. The bride will be escorted to Dragonstone, and the ritual will be conducted according to tradition. We cannot afford to falter.”

The meeting adjourned, and the council members rose from their seats, their conversations continuing in hushed tones as they filed out of the chamber. Jacaerys remained seated for a moment, his mind racing with the weight of their decision.

He rose from his seat and made his way to the godswood, seeking solace in the ancient silence of the heart tree once again.

The walk to the godswood was a blur, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. When he finally reached the heart tree, he pressed his palm against the rough bark, feeling the ancient power thrumming beneath his touch. The carved face seemed to gaze back at him, its expression inscrutable.

“Why do you remain silent?” Jacaerys whispered, his voice barely more than a breath carried away by the wind. “Do you not see the weight upon me? The burden of tradition threatens to consume everything I hold dear.”

The heart tree offered no answers, its carved face unmoving, its eyes seeming to gaze through him rather than at him. Jacaerys felt a pang of bitterness and betrayal at the feeling of being helpless, of being ignored by his gods and by his people.

He turned away from the heart tree, pacing restlessly amidst the tranquil setting of the godswood. The gentle rustling of leaves and the soft murmur of the wind offered no comfort. His thoughts raced, his mind replaying the council meeting and the inevitable march towards tradition that seemed to crush any hope of a different outcome.

In that moment of turmoil, his thoughts turned to you – the one person who could ease the burden of his troubled heart. He longed to see you, to escape the suffocating confines of duty and council chambers, to find solace in your presence. You were a beacon of warmth and understanding amidst the cold realities of court politics and ancient rituals.

Without hesitation, Jacaerys made his way back to the Red Keep, his steps quickening with purpose. He sought you out, driven by a need to be with someone who understood him, someone who could offer comfort without words.

Boredom had driven you to the library once again, the Red Keep not having many other activities to keep you occupied while your husband was in the Small Council. The chatter of the Small Council meeting echoed in your mind, their discussions on matters of state and tradition dulling your senses. You recalled Jacaerys' words earlier in your betrothal, his gentle encouragement to explore the library freely, to find respite from the formalities that governed court life.

As you browsed the shelves, your fingers trailing along the spines of ancient tomes, a small, leather-bound volume caught your eye. It was tucked away in a corner, almost hidden behind larger books. Curious, you pulled it out, noting the lack of a title on its worn cover.

Settling into your favorite reading nook by the window, you opened the book carefully. The pages were filled with elegant High Valyrian script, the ink faded but still legible. Your heart quickened with excitement at the challenge of translating this mysterious text.

As you began to read, deciphering the archaic language with the skills you had honed over the past months, the content of the book slowly revealed itself. It appeared to be a chronicle of Targaryen traditions, dating back to the family's origins in Old Valyria.

Your translation was slow at first, but as you progressed, certain phrases began to leap out at you. “Se zaldrīzes demands iā jorrāelagon...” [The dragon demands a sacrifice...]

Your brow furrowed in concentration as you continued, your heart beginning to race as the true nature of the text became clear. “Hen tubis naejot tubis, se dārilaros iksis naejot ōdrikagon iā riña naejot se zaldrīzes...” [From time to time, the heir is to choose a lady for the dragon...]

With trembling hands, you turned the pages, your mind reeling as you pieced together the full horror of what you were reading. The tradition, passed down through generations of Targaryen rulers, of sacrificing a young woman to appease their dragons. The ceremonial marriage, followed by a journey to Dragonstone, where the bride would meet her fate.

As the full implications of what you had discovered washed over you, a cold dread settled in the pit of your stomach. Suddenly, Jacaerys' behavior, the pitying looks from the servants, the whispers that followed you through the halls – it all made terrible sense.

You were not just a bride. You were a sacrifice.

The book slipped from your numb fingers, falling to the floor with a dull thud that echoed in the empty library. Your mind raced, trying to reconcile the Jacaerys you had come to know – kind, intelligent, affectionate – with the man who had chosen you for this grim fate.

As the shock began to give way to a mixture of fear and anger, you heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, you saw Jacaerys entering the library, his face lighting up when he saw you. His expression softened as he took in your familiar presence – a book in your hand, and a furrowed look on your face. But as he drew closer, his expression changed, noticing the pallor of your face.

“What's wrong?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. “Are you feeling ill?” He knelt beside you, reaching out tentatively, as if unsure whether to touch you.

You recoiled slightly at his approach, a surge of conflicting emotions welling up inside you. Tears continued to flow unabated down your cheeks as you struggled to find your voice, to articulate the turmoil that gripped your soul.

He reached for your hand again, this time more insistently, but you pulled away, the sting of betrayal cutting deep. “You... you chose me,” you whispered, your voice laced with accusation. “To be sacrificed.”

He recoiled as if struck, his own eyes filling with tears of remorse and helplessness.

You stood there, your body trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. The sight of Jacaerys, once a source of comfort, now filled you with an overwhelming sense of betrayal. Your eyes, brimming with tears, darted around the room, unable to settle on his face for more than a moment. The urge to flee, to put as much distance between yourself and this man who had deceived you, was almost overpowering.

“How... how could you?” you finally managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt thick in your throat, as if your body was physically resisting the act of speaking to him. Your hands shook as you clutched the book to your chest, a tangible reminder of the horrifying truth you had uncovered.

Anger bubbled up inside you, mixing with the fear and hurt. It manifested in the way your jaw clenched, in the tightness of your shoulders. You wanted to scream, to rage at him for his deception, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, hot tears spilled down your cheeks, a physical manifestation of your inner turmoil.

You took a step back as Jacaerys moved towards you, your body instinctively recoiling from his presence. The man before you now seemed like a stranger, far removed from the gentle, caring husband you thought you had come to know. Your breath came in short, sharp gasps as panic began to set in.

“Stay away from me,” you managed to say, your voice cracking with emotion. The betrayal cut deep, a wound that felt almost physical in its intensity. Your mind raced, replaying every moment, every kind word and gentle touch, now tainted by the knowledge of your true purpose.

Your eyes, wide with fear and glistening with tears, finally met his. In that moment, the full weight of your situation crashed down upon you. You were trapped, bound by tradition and duty to a fate you never asked for, chosen by a man you had begun to trust and even love. The realization left you feeling hollow, your anger giving way to a deep, aching despair.

Jacaerys' face contorted with anguish. He took a hesitant step towards you, his hand outstretched, but you flinched away violently.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Let me explain. I never meant to-”

“To what?” you spat out, finding your voice again. The words came out in a rush, fueled by fear and rage. “To lie to me? To condemn me to death? What exactly didn't you mean to do, Jacaerys?”

“I thought I knew you,” you continued, your voice breaking. “I thought... I thought what we had was real.”

Jacaerys' face crumpled at your words. “It is real,” he insisted, taking another step closer. You backed away, your back hitting the bookshelf behind you. “Everything between us, every moment – it's all been real. I swear it.”

You shook your head violently, unable to reconcile his words with the horrifying truth you'd discovered. “How can you say that?” you demanded, your voice rising hysterically. “How can any of it be real when you've been planning my death this whole time?”

Jacaerys’s expression twisted in agony as he absorbed the impact of your words. He stood rooted to the spot, a few steps away from you, his hand still outstretched as if hoping that a simple gesture could bridge the widening chasm between you.

“I never wanted this,” Jacaerys began, his voice barely above a whisper, choked with emotion.

You shook your head vehemently, tears streaming down your face. “You chose me.” you spat out, your voice cracking.

“No, that's not what I-”

“Then what?” you demanded, your voice rising. “What exactly was your plan? To make me fall for you and then feed me to a dragon?”

Jacaerys's face contorted with pain. “I've been trying to find another way. I've been fighting the council, trying to change things-”

“And failing!” you interjected, your fear and anger boiling over. “All while lying to me every single day!”

“I wasn't lying to you!” Jacaerys protested, his voice rising to match yours. “I was trying to protect you!”

“How can I believe anything you say now?” you cried out, your body shaking with sobs.

Just as Jacaerys opened his mouth to respond, a sharp knock at the library door interrupted your heated exchange. You both froze, turning to see a servant entering hesitantly.

“Begging your pardon, Your Grace,” the servant said, bowing low. “The Small Council requests your immediate presence. They wish to begin preparations for... the journey.”

The servant's eyes flickered between you and Jacaerys, clearly sensing the tension in the room.

You sobbed at the mention of the event, even servants keeping secrecy of your fate.

Jacaerys clenched his jaw, he turned back to you, his eyes pleading. “Please, we need to talk about this. Let me explain-”

But you were already backing away, seizing the opportunity of the interruption to escape. “I wish to be left alone,” you said, your voice trembling. Without another word, you brushed past the confused servant and fled from the library.

Jacaerys stood frozen for a moment, watching as you fled, your sobs echoing through the hallways. His heart ached with the weight of his own guilt and the fear of losing you completely. Ignoring the servant’s continued bowing and murmurings, he sprinted after you, desperate to make you understand.

He reached your chamber door just as you slammed it shut, the sound reverberating down the corridor. He pressed his palms against the heavy wood, his forehead resting against it as he tried to steady his racing heart.

“Please, let me explain!” he called out, his voice thick with desperation. “I know you're hurt and angry, but you need to hear me out!”

Inside, you sank to the floor, your back against the door, tears streaming down your face. Your body shook with silent sobs, the enormity of the betrayal crushing down on you.

“Everything I've done,” Jacaerys continued, his voice muffled through the door, “I've done to protect you. I never wanted to deceive you. I never wanted any of this. But the council, the traditions... they're suffocating us both.”

His words felt like they were trying to reach you, trying to penetrate the thick wall of pain and anger that surrounded your heart. But the fear of your impending fate and the betrayal you felt were too overwhelming.

“Please, you have to believe me,” he begged, his voice breaking. “I love you. That love is real. And I will find a way to save you, I swear it. Just give me a chance to make this right.”

You hugged your knees to your chest, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The pain, the fear, the betrayal – they were all so raw, so immediate. But beneath it all, a small part of you wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that the man you had come to care for was not the monster this situation painted him to be.

“I don’t know how to trust you again,” you whispered, knowing he couldn’t hear you through the thick door.

“I'll do whatever it takes,” Jacaerys vowed, his voice trembling with determination. “Just... don't shut me out. Please.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the air thick with the weight of his words. You stayed where you were, torn between the deep love you had started to feel for him and the horrifying reality you had uncovered. The choice to let him in or to push him away entirely seemed insurmountable in that moment.

With that, he pressed his hand against the door one last time, as if trying to offer some semblance of comfort through the barrier between you, before turning and walking away, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your heartache.

When he entered the room, the council members were already deep in discussion, their hushed voices filling the space with an air of urgency. They looked up as he entered, some with mild surprise, others with impatience.

“Your Grace,” the maester began, “we are ready to pick up from where we left off earlier. We were just finalizing the preparations for the journey to Dragonstone.”

Jacaerys clenched his fists, his frustration barely contained. “This madness must end,” he declared, his voice shaking with a mixture of rage and desperation. “We cannot continue with this barbaric tradition. There has to be another way.”

They looked at him as if he was a loose-tempered child, their expressions a mix of annoyance and dismissal. Jacaerys stood firm, his eyes burning with intensity as he faced the council that seemed so indifferent to his pleas.

“Your Grace,” the man interjected, his tone patronizing, “tradition is not something to be discarded lightly. It is what binds us to our heritage, what ensures the stability of our rule. The dragons demand their due.”

Jacaerys shook his head in disbelief. “Is that all you see her as? A 'due' to be paid?” His voice cracked with emotion, his frustration boiling over.

One of the maesters, an older man with a stern look and a long gray beard, spoke up with a dismissive tone. “Your Grace, emotions have clouded your judgment. The girl is but a vessel for the ritual, a necessary sacrifice for the greater good of our house and the realm. Your sentimental attachment to her blinds you to the realities of our traditions.”

Jacaerys's jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. He could feel his anger rising like a tidal wave, threatening to overwhelm him. “You dare speak of my wife like that again and I shall have your tongue for it.”

The maester who had spoken before, undeterred by Jacaerys's threat, leaned forward with a smirk playing on his lips. “Your Grace, threats will not change the course of history. The traditions of House Targaryen are not to be trifled with, even by a king.”

“The dragon will be fed sheep, or pigs, or cows. I do not care for what it is, just not an innocent, not her.”

The council members glanced at each other again, murmuring amongst themselves in low voices. They seemed to reach an unspoken agreement, their gazes finally settling on Jacaerys with a mixture of pity and resignation.

“Your Grace,” the maester said with a sigh, Jacaerys shook his head, turning on his heel and storming out of the council chamber, leaving the members behind in a stunned silence. All heads turned to look at the empty seat of the Queen, who was absent from the meeting to be with her children.

The preparations proceeded.

Outside the chamber, he paused for a moment, leaning against the cool stone wall to catch his breath. His thoughts turned to you, his heart aching with the fear of losing you to the cruel tradition that dictated your fate. He couldn't bear the thought of what awaited you on Dragonstone, of the horror you must feel now that you knew the truth.

With a deep breath, Jacaerys pushed himself away from the wall and began to walk briskly through the corridors of the Red Keep. His steps were purposeful, driven by a desperate need to find a way to protect you, to defy the council's decree despite their authority. His mind raced with plans and strategies, each one more daring than the last.

As he passed by servants and guards, he saw the pity in their eyes, the whispers that followed him like a shadow. They knew of the impending sacrifice, of the council's decision, and of his futile attempts to defy it. Yet, despite their sympathy, Jacaerys knew he couldn't rely on anyone else to challenge the council openly. The risk was too great, the consequences too dire.

Finally, he reached the familiar door of your chambers. His hand trembled slightly as he lifted it to knock, unsure of how you would receive him after your confrontation in the library. He knew he had hurt you deeply, that his actions had shattered the trust you had begun to build between you.

Before he could knock, however, the door swung open suddenly. The sight of you standing there, eyes red from tears, took his breath away. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air between you.

He whispered your name, almost as if it was a secret, his hands reaching out to attempt to hold yours. You moved away, “I only wish to go to supper, the Queen is waiting.”

Jacaerys swallowed hard, his throat tight with unspoken words and unshed tears. He knew you were still hurting, still grappling with the betrayal he had inadvertently caused. The thought of losing you, of facing the council's cold and calculated decisions alone, sent a wave of despair crashing over him.

“I... I will not keep you.” he murmured finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded slightly, your gaze flickering to the side, unable to meet his eyes. The pain and confusion swirled within you, making it difficult to think clearly or to know what to say next.

Stepping back from the door, you slipped away from him, the distance between you feeling insurmountable. Jacaerys watched you go, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he was losing you, at least for now.

The walk to supper was silent and uncomfortable. Each step felt like a burden, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Servants passed by, casting sympathetic glances your way, their whispered conversations barely registering as you made your way to the dining hall.

“My dear,” she greeted you warmly, though her eyes held a hint of concern. “I trust everything is well?”

You managed a tight-lipped smile, nodding slightly. “Yes, Your Grace,” you replied softly, avoiding her gaze.

Sensing your need for space, she made no further inquiries, allowing the meal to proceed in an uneasy silence.

Throughout supper, you picked at your food, the taste of bitterness lingering on your tongue. The empty seat beside yours, your husbands, felt like a void, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between you. You glanced at it occasionally, half-expecting Jacaerys to appear, to fix it all with a snap of his fingers. But he did not materialize, leaving you to wrestle with your conflicted feelings alone.

Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, with her regal bearing and perceptive gaze, had always been keenly attuned to the emotional currents of those around her. As she observed you across the table during supper, she noticed the tension in your posture, the haunted look in your eyes, and the way you absently picked at your food.

Her own son's absence did not go unnoticed either. The empty seat beside you seemed to cast a shadow over the otherwise elegant atmosphere of the dining hall. Rhaenyra's eyes flickered towards it briefly, a fleeting moment of concern crossing her features before she schooled her expression into one of serene composure.

After a quiet and tense supper, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen rose gracefully from her seat, her gaze lingering briefly on the empty chair beside you before she moved towards the doors of the dining hall. Her steps were measured, her presence commanding even in the subdued atmosphere.

As she exited the hall, servants darted forward to attend to her, but she waved them off with a subtle gesture. Instead, she continued down the corridor that led towards the private chambers reserved for the royal family. Her mind was focused on one thing: finding her son, Jacaerys, and offering him whatever support and counsel she could in his time of need.

Rhaenyra found Jacaerys in his private study, poring over ancient tomes and scrolls that spoke of the history of Dragonstone and the ancient rituals of House Targaryen. He looked up as she entered, his expression a mixture of determination and weariness.

“Mother,” Jacaerys greeted her, his voice subdued yet filled with a quiet resolve. Queen Rhaenyra closed the door behind her, the quiet click echoing softly in the study as she approached her son. Jacaerys stood by his desk, surrounded by the weight of ancient knowledge and the burden of his current dilemma. His eyes, weary and troubled, met hers as she drew near.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, her mind racing with possibilities. “The dragon must be fed, as tradition dictates.”

“No-” he interrupted.

“Jacaerys, listen to me,” she began softly.

He closed his mouth, frustration still evident on his face as he glared at the floor, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Ten sheep, as a symbolic gesture to fulfill the dragon's hunger. It will appease the tradition without sacrificing an innocent life. Like you said.”

Jacaerys remained silent for a moment, his jaw clenched as he mulled over her words. The weight of the decision pressed heavily upon him; he wanted desperately to protect you, yet he also feared the council's resistance to any deviation from the established ritual.

“It's risky,” he finally admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “But if there's even a chance...”

“We must take it,” Rhaenyra affirmed, her voice gentle yet firm. “I feel your heavy heart, my son. You are hurt.”

Rhaenyra's words cut through the turmoil swirling in Jacaerys's mind, her understanding of his pain offering a momentary comfort amidst the uncertainty.

“I can't bear to lose her, Mother,” Jacaerys confessed quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “She trusted me, and I... I betrayed that trust.”

Rhaenyra reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, a gesture of maternal comfort. “Love makes us vulnerable, my son,” she murmured softly. “But it also gives us strength. You must believe in that strength now, for her sake and for yours.”

The day dawned with a heavy pall hanging over Dragonstone, the air thick with anticipation and dread. Servants moved about the castle with quiet efficiency, their expressions somber as they attended to their duties. Among them, preparing for the ritual that loomed ahead, was you.

Your mind felt numb, detached from the reality of what was to come. Every brush of the comb through your hair, every adjustment to your gown felt surreal, like you were watching someone else's life unfold. The knowledge of your impending sacrifice weighed heavily, a constant, gnawing ache in your chest that refused to abate.

Jacaerys, your husband, moved through the chambers with an air of quiet resolve. His eyes, usually warm and reassuring, now held a depth of sadness you couldn't bear to meet. He had sworn to his mother to keep the plan involving the sheep a secret, and despite the rocky state of your relationship, he ached to tell you.

As the time drew near, you found yourself seated beside Jacaerys in the carriage bound for the dragon pit. The journey was quiet, the clatter of hooves against cobblestones the only sound breaking the heavy silence between you. His presence beside you was both a source of solace and a reminder of the fractured trust between you.

You stole glances at him occasionally, noting the tension etched in his features, the way his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap. There were words unsaid, wounds still raw and unhealed, but in this moment, facing the inevitable, you craved for his comfort.

Silently, you reached to place a hand on his thigh, stopping his leg from moving up and down in anxiousness.

He turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for understanding, for forgiveness. The weight of his secret, the burden of the deception he had carried to protect you, threatened to crush him. Yet, in that moment, your touch grounded him, reminding him of the love that still flickered between you despite everything.

You held his gaze, your own eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and longing. Words seemed inadequate in the face of what lay ahead, in the face of the unspoken turmoil between you. But your touch spoke volumes, a silent reassurance that even amidst the chaos, you were still connected.

Jacaerys covered your hand with his own, his touch gentle yet firm. His thumb traced soothing circles on the back of your hand, a gesture of comfort and apology. There were no words to express the depth of his regret, the anguish of seeing you face such a fate.

“I will fix this,” he promised in a whisper. You frowned at him and he felt his heart drop once again, your trust for him was fully gone. “I swear it.” he murmured against your hair, his voice hoarse.

You withdrew your hand from his grasp, the gesture a silent but clear indication of the distance that had grown between you. His heart ached at the loss of your touch, a physical manifestation of the emotional rift that now divided you. You remained silent, the weight of his promise echoing in the space between you.

As the carriage finally reached its destination, the stark cliffs of Dragonstone rose ominously before you. Servants hurried to prepare for the landing, their movements efficient and solemn. The dragons' presence loomed in the background, a constant reminder of the ancient forces that governed their lives.

Jacaerys helped you disembark from the carriage, his touch tentative yet filled with an unspoken plea for forgiveness. You stood side by side, facing the imposing fortress and the council that awaited your arrival.

From the distance, you could see the beast, a dragon stood tall before the castle, many men parading around it holding sticks to prevent it from causing any damage other than his feast, you.

Jacaerys’ gaze moved to his mother, her arms crossed over her chest as she gave him a stern nod, telling him that the sheep were hidden, prepared to replace you just as they’d planned.

The servants moved away, maesters following behind as the hair walked you to the dragon, just like it was written in the books of tradition. Jacaerys was supposed to leave you standing in front of the dragon, leave and hide away in a corner before shouting the known command for you to be burnt. A private tradition for only husband and wife, for heir and sacrifice to see.

Your body shook in fear as you walked behind your husband, your hand grasping onto his red cape. He reached behind his body, his hand holding yours in hopes to calm you.

The dragon loomed ahead, its scaled form bathed in sunlight that glinted off its massive wings and claws. Men with sticks stood guard around it, their wary eyes trained on the beast as well as on you and Jacaerys. They stepped away once the Prince approached.

Jacaerys's steps faltered briefly as he glanced back at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and determination. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, his grip firm yet gentle, a silent promise of his unwavering resolve to protect you at any cost.

As you approached the dragon, the enormity of the moment threatened to overwhelm you. Images from the ancient books of tradition flashed through your mind—husbands and wives standing before dragons, the command to burn uttered in hushed reverence. It was a private ritual, a solemn duty passed down through generations, and now it seemed poised to consume you.

You and Jacaerys were left standing on your hand, your hand clasped tightly in his as you tried to even your breaths.

The dragon's gaze shifted, its attention momentarily drawn away as it sensed movement in the shadows. Jacaerys's breath caught in his throat, his grip on your hand tightening instinctively. For a fleeting moment, hope flared within you, a glimmer of possibility that the plan might succeed, that the ancient beast might accept the substitution.

But as the dragon turned back to you, its eyes narrowing with curiosity, the moment of truth arrived. Jacaerys turned to look at his mother, rushing with one of her maids behind her, and the promised sheep gathered. He couldn’t help the sigh of relief that washed over him, his hand letting go of yours to hold onto your waist and push you close to him as he quickly dragged the two of you away from the beast’s hungry eyes.

Together, you moved swiftly through the courtyard, away from the dragon and towards the safety of the castle's empty interior, the council already having left for their journey back to the Keep. Jacaerys's grip on your waist remained firm, his touch a reassurance of his steadfast protection in the face of danger. His mother kept pace beside you, her expression unreadable but tinged with a glimmer of pride in her son's daring defiance of tradition.

As you reached the threshold of the castle, Jacaerys finally allowed himself a moment to breathe, his gaze sweeping over you with relief and lingering concern. The weight of what had transpired hung heavy in the air, the daring gamble to spare you from the dragon's maw a testament to Jacaerys's unwavering determination and love.

Inside the safety of the castle walls, away from the dragon's menacing presence, Jacaerys pulled you into a tight embrace. His voice, thick with emotion, whispered words of gratitude and apology against your hair. You clung to him, the rush of adrenaline giving way to overwhelming relief and the beginnings of forgiveness.

From afar, you could hear the Queen voice the command, you watched in silence – as Jacaerys clung to you – the dragon spitting fire at the animals, the two women hurrying out of the way while it ate at the sheep.

You felt a sob leave your throat at the sight, turning your body to fit into Jacaerys’ as you incoherently mumbled words of gratitude, his lips brushing against your skin every time he spoke caringly at you, apologizing, thanking the gods.

“You're safe now,” Jacaerys murmured against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I'm so sorry you had to go through this. I never wanted any of this for you.”

“Please... Please forgive me. I know I don't deserve it, but I swear to you, I will spend every moment proving myself to you.”

You buried your face in his chest, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. His words of remorse and desperation washed over you, mingling with the relief of surviving the ordeal.

“I'm so sorry,” Jacaerys continued, his voice choked with emotion as he whispered. “I should have told you everything from the beginning. I never meant to deceive you, to put you through this. Please, I beg you... take whatever time you need. I understand if you can't ever forgive me.”

You felt his words reverberate through your chest, each syllable heavy with remorse and love. His vulnerability touched your heart, reminding you of the man you had fallen in love with despite the secrets that had threatened to tear you apart.

“I need you to know,” Jacaerys whispered, his fingers gently caressing your back. “I love you. More than anything. And I will spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative, exploratory kiss. It began as a whisper, a soft meeting of lips that conveyed all the unspoken words – the apologies, the gratitude, the hope for a future together. The taste of salt from lingering tears mixed with the sweetness of relief, creating a bittersweet sensation that only deepened the connection between you.

Jacaerys responded with an enthusiasm that spoke volumes. His arms encircled you, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss deepened, filled with a yearning that transcended the physical, binding your souls together in a moment of deep intimacy.

His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency, pouring out his heart in the touch of his mouth on yours. In that embrace, amidst the echoes of their shared ordeal, you found solace and strength in each other's arms.

When you finally pulled away, a soft smile graced Jacaerys' lips, his eyes shining with gratitude. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands tenderly caressing your cheeks as if trying to imprint the moment into memory. You nestled into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

“One step at a time,” you mumbled, catching from the corner of your eye, the hint of a smile fighting to appear on his face.

Together, you stood in the quiet sanctuary of the castle, your bodies pressed close as if seeking solace in each other's presence. The weight of what had transpired hung in the air, but so did a glimmer of hope – a hope that with time and effort, your love could mend the fractures that had threatened to break you apart.

Jacaerys seemed unconcerned with the Council's potential reaction to his and his mother's defiance of tradition, wholly absorbed in the moment. His thoughts were consumed by your scent and the significance of your first kiss since your wedding. He silently hoped it marked the beginning of a new normal, regardless of the Council's opinions upon your return to the Red Keep.

taglist: @smurfelle @earth4angels @elliaze @sillylittlepenguin181818 (taglist link is on pinned!)

#jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace velaryon #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #hotd #house of the dragon #harry collett #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon one shot

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vampwritesstuff · 1 month ago

Text

𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩’𝐬 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐬 (1)

a random collection of Ateez fics I have stumbled across and fell in love with. (I am clearly biased towards smau fics)

* marks mature/violent content, please heed warnings posted by the author. MDNI with the fics on this list that are marked like this. You are responsible for the media you consume!

Personal favorites are marked with 💜

Authors will not be tagged multiple times if they have already been tagged once before on this list, this is to ensure that I don’t flood notifications and so I can tag as many different authors as I can!

If any authors would like their works removed from this list or to be untagged, please feel free to tell me!! As well as let me know if any links are not working properly! (I do tend to check them frequently though as this list also helps me keep track of the ongoing fics I am reading)

While you’re here, also feel free to check out my own Ateez smau Forgotten Melodies! (Shameless self promo but oh well, it’s my rec list I can recommend my own fic if I want to)

OT8/Multiple Members

wonderwall * @atzfilm 💜 (ongoing series)

circus * @lani-heart 💜 (ongoing)

inception * @remedyx (ongoing)

hypothesis (woosan) @woneuntonzz (ongoing smau)

ateez mafia au @softsan (ongoing)

this night together * (yungi) @honeyhotteoks 💜 (ongoing)

the essence of youth is summers with you @eightmakesonebraincell 💜 (oneshot)

divine ruination * @seonghwaddict (ongoing)

blinding lights * (seongjoong) @kpoppers-anonymous (ongoing)

when eight becomes nine @bunnliix (ongoing)

for love of the game * (yunwoo) @kitten4sannie (oneshot)

makes him want to give up his sea legs @yeontantrash 💜 (drabble)

that’s what roommates are for * (yunsanmin) @bro-atz (oneshot)

house of cards @moontyun (ongoing)

incomplete @ldysmfrst (ongoing)

our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom @ eightmakesonebraincell 💜 (oneshot)

Kim Hongjoong

a wild ride * @bombuni (oneshot)

while you were sleeping @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

when flowers bloom in the dark @makeitmingi (ongoing)

kindergarten love story @xomakara (oneshot)

your gentle hands @yourlocaljonghoe 💜 (oneshot)

Park Seonghwa

the lamb and the wolf * @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

the way to his heart * @edenesth (completed series)

the stranger in 43b @jae-bummer (oneshot)

i will wait @hwaightme (oneshot)

let me in @ makeitmingi (oneshot)

Jeong Yunho

espresso for two? @xuchiya (oneshot)

music of the heart @noonaishere 💜 (ongoing smau)

empires @peacheeeliz 💜 (completed smau)

hunted: haunting adeline au * @whatudowhennooneseesyou 💜 (oneshot)

let’s start a podcast @mars101 (ongoing smau)

Kang Yeosang

morning glory * @anyamaris (oneshot)

operation: passenger princess @sungbeam 💜 (oneshot)

yeosang & a situationship @yunhoszn (oneshot smau)

oddeleny @songmingisthighs 💜 (completed smau)

Choi San

online/offline @ noonaishere 💜 (ongoing smau)

leave the window open @ sungbeam (oneshot)

hold me @cheeseceli (oneshot)

no hesitation * @daemour (oneshot)

love beyond barriers @catsannie (ongoing smau)

Song Mingi

preying on you tonight * @bvidzsoo (oneshot)

and july @sara-wishes (oneshot)

wave @sorryimananti-romantic (oneshot)

[ 11:45 p.m. ] @mingtinys (timestamp)

hidden flames @imagine-a-life-like-this & @mxnsxngie (ongoing)

save a horse, ride your best friend @ seonghwaddict (oneshot)

Jung Wooyoung

written in the stars @ennysbookstore (ongoing)

247 @yothangie 💜 (ongoing smau)

unexpectedly @dancinglikebutterflywings 💜 (ongoing smau + currently on hiatus/being rewritten)

lover, please stay * @roomsofangel (ongoing)

that and then @halaboyz (oneshot)

plans changed @ dancinglikebutterflywings (oneshot)

bullseye! @lividstar 💜 (oneshot)

let the heart love again @ makeitmingi 💜 (oneshot)

vivrant thing @hwaslayer (ongoing)

i don’t want your sorrys, i want you safe @dvrktvnnel (oneshot + planned part two)

die for me * @jisungchan (oneshot)

Choi Jongho

oh shit, are we in love? * @mingigoo 💜 (oneshot)

thinking about how… @ cheeseceli (drabble)

the pool * @beenbaanbuun (oneshot)

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pinkiemachine · 6 months ago

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I’ve only done some light reading on Selina, but even so, details on her past seem few and far between. Maybe there’s a reason, maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough, whatever. Someone can enlighten me in the comments. What I do know, however, is that she’s eluded to have experienced some form of abuse as a child. Now, this research came on the heels of brushing up on the rest of Batman’s rogues’ gallery and I gotta say, abuse as a backstory comes up a lot. And I’m just sitting here, like, “There are so many unique people in this world with unique traumas and hurts that this feels almost cookie cutter.” Am I wrong? I just wanna be more specific and explore problems more intimately. So… Selina Kyle. What to write for her backstory? I thought a lot about who she is as a character present day—her playful aloofness, her decision to become a cat burglar, breaking rules as if they don’t exist, always on the run, never settling down with anyone long term, stealing nice things for herself—it led me to this backstory: When Selina was a child, she was horribly neglected. Her father was almost never around and her mother was depressed, anxious, under the influence of alcohol quite often, and wished she never had a daughter. Selina found that it was always easier to live as though she were invisible. If she never got caught making a mess or being noisy or causing problems, her mother would never get mad at her, or even a acknowledge her, and neither would her father if he ever showed his face. She never received birthday gifts—or if she did, they were pitiful—and all of her attempts of reaching out via gifts to her mother and father were rejected. She was never loved and grew to believe that the only way she would ever feel cared for is if she just took care of herself and only herself. She was good at being invisible, and so she became good at stealing. She treated herself to nice things whenever she felt like it, and she rarely ever got caught. She never made close friends. She never really fell in love. She built up walls so high that no one could ever break them down… until she met Bruce. Suddenly, here was a guy who could consistently catch her red-handed. Who told her she needed to stop robbing people. Who believed she could be better. Who saw her. And even though she kept double-crossing him, escaping his grasp, and escaping justice, she found that it was a little bit harder to return to crime every time. She had always found him attractive… but the longer they chased each other around Gotham, and the longer he showed that he wasn’t going to ignore her or give up on her, the more that attraction turned into a deep feeling that Selina had never felt before. True love. She was scared of it. She didn’t know what to do with it. It was completely the opposite of everything she had ever known, and she secretly didn’t think she deserved it. After all, she was a criminal. She was a “bad guy.” Someone who stole from others for pleasure and profit. And yet Bruce believed she was a good person deep down. He believed she had the capacity for change. And in time, he would find himself falling in love with her too. By the end of their story, naturally, those walls had come crumbling down and they had each learned how to love again, something they both thought would never happen to them. 💜

#fan art #art #dc #dc comics #batman #Bruce wayne #Selina Kyle #Catwoman #batxcat

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sim0nril3y · 1 year ago

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Ghost x Civilian Masterlist

Note: This is the masterlist for my Ghost x Civilian collection of one shots. They are all part of the same universe, following the story of how he met his civilian and fell into a relationship with them but it won’t be like a fluid series but rather just little stories that are all connected.

This page is 18+ only so mdni. I periodically check my followers and block where necessary. Please ensure that your blog shows an age or an indicator to your age, if it is blank I will block. Key: 💜 Fluff; 🔥 Smut; 💔 Angst Dating Phase - First Meeting 💜 - Second Meeting 💜 - First Date 💜 - Second Date 💜 - Workplace Distractions 💜 - Push and Pull 🔥💔 - Push and Pull - Part 2 💜💔 - Saturday Night Football 💜🔥 - Your Flat 💜🔥 - Classic Games 💜 - Commitment Talk 💜 - Meet the Family 💜💔 - Seaside 💜🔥 - His Shirt 🔥 - Handy Man 🔥 - Clumsy 💜🔥 - Night Out 💜🔥 - Deployment 💔 Married Life Phase - Honeymoon 💜🔥 - New Hobby 💜 - Revenge 🔥 - I got you. 💜 Requests - Forehead Kisses 💜🔥 - Stalker 💜🔥 - Soap's Discovery 💜 - Sketchbook 💜 - Sick 💜 - Jealousy, Jealousy 💜🔥 - Your Jealousy, Jealousy 💜 - Praise Kink 🔥 - Breeding Kink 🔥 - Broken Arm 💜💔 - Sleep Problems 💜 - Fight 💔 - You meet Soap 💜 - Overwhelmingly Good 💜🔥 Drabbles - Airport 💜 - Cooking 💜 - Barbie Movie 💜 - Teasing 💜🔥 - Showing Love 💜 - NYE Kiss 💜

12 Days of Kinkmas 2023 🎄 MORE TBA Taglist Info FEEL FREE TO REQUEST SCENARIOS AND DRABBLES

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x oc #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x oc

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eringobragh420 · 24 days ago

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💜 Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader 💜 Summary: Damian’s girlfriend and Rhea have a deep hatred for one another, leaving Damian in the middle to referee. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Overstimulation, unprotected p in v, cum 18+ 💜 Notes: Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! ❤️ Thank you so much to @miss-kuki-nz for being my muse ❤️ 💜 Taglist: In the comments because I'm old and don't know how they work lol. If you’d like to be added, please click here! 💜 Requested By: @twistedprincess-92. Hope you enjoy!

“I am so tired of this bullshit,” Damian complained, unlocking the front door to his and his girlfriend’s home. He shoved it open, and no matter how angry he was, the man never forgot his manners, so he motioned for the tiny woman beside him to enter ahead of him.

Had she not been absolutely livid at the moment, she’d have swooned, as she was prone to doing, but as the situation stood, there would definitely be no swooning this time. “You and me both, babe,” she hissed as she passed him.

Damian slammed the door and locked it before stomping after her into the living room. He watched as she kicked her heels off and doffed her leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the couch. She crossed her arms, and he knew it was going to be a long night. “You’re acting like you’re the one that should be mad right now,” he said, motioning in her direction.

“Are you saying I’m not?” she asked evenly, brows in her hairline, and it was that perfectly held-together tone that gave Damian an ominous chill down his spine.

“Yeah, I’m saying you’re not. I’m the one that has to referee his girlfriend and his best friend every damn time we go out somewhere.”

“Oh, poor you,” his girlfriend spat. “At least you’re not the one getting called a golddigger!”

“She did not call you a golddigger.”

“Wait, no, you’re right. What she said was you’re just like all the rest. Like the girl you dated before me who spent all your money.”

“She’s just looking out for me.”

“Well, Damian, which is it? Did she not say it or is she protecting a six-foot-five grown ass man who can take care of himself?”

Damian’s hands came to his head but they dropped quickly. “You both literally want the same thing. I don’t understand any of this.”

“Maybe we do want the same thing, but she’s the one being a bitch about it.”

“Oh, great. Next you’re gonna tell me she’s the one that started it.”

“Actually, she did.”

Damian’s eyes went to the ceiling. He couldn’t believe they were having this argument again. It had been almost a year since he’d introduced the love of his life to his best friend, and ever since that day, he hadn’t had a moment’s peace. Maybe the two women were simply too alike and would consequently never get along. So where did that leave him? He refused to choose between them, and he refused to allow them to bully him into choosing between them. Had they reached an impasse? Was this just supposed to be his life now? And when the couple inevitably got married, was Rhea not going to be invited?

“And what if I just say I’m done with it?” he suddenly asked, turning his head to look at his girlfriend.

She stared at him. “What does that mean?”

Damian sighed. “Never mind.”

“You wanna be done with me?”

“I didn’t say—“

“The hell you didn’t. I’m not in Rhea’s cool book, so you’re just gonna toss me aside?”

“You’re not lis—”

“Fuck you, Damian.”

His brows rose and he nodded. “Fuck me?”

“Fuck you.”

She stomped past him, glaring the whole way, and it was clear she didn’t want to be followed, nor did he particularly want to follow her. He knew the door slam was coming, but he still jumped just the same as he removed his jacket, dropping it over the back of the couch before he fell onto the cushions with a heavy sigh. He scrubbed his hands over his face, grabbed the remote, and turned on the television knowing full well he wasn’t interested in watching anything.

He was all threats, and she knew it. He wasn’t going to break up with her, and he wasn’t going to sever ties with Rhea, either. He would live with it, he supposed, like he had been, spending the rest of his life hoping things would change. In the meantime, he’d have to keep them separated. Like children.

“Damian?”

Damian stirred, clearing his throat, and his eyes slowly blinked open. He must have fallen asleep at some point as he was now prone on the couch, one boot on the cushion, the other on the floor. Had he heard his name in a dream? He sat up, yawning, and arched his back to work out the kinks.

“Papí?” his girlfriend called again from upstairs.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, looking over his shoulder toward the staircase.

“Will you please come to bed?”

He smirked. Yeah, he was gonna live with it. He loved her too damn much. “I’m on my way.” He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, discovering a message from Rhea.

I love you, twin. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.

Damian’s smile only grew and his heart swelled, but then realized his girlfriend hadn’t been the first one to apologize. Did that bother him? Did it really matter? He could build on this. Light at the end of the tunnel. He turned the TV off before climbing the stairs and made his way down the corridor toward their bedroom. The door was open and the lights were off save for the nightlight near the bed on her side—she’d never admitted to it, but she had at least a slight fear of the dark. She was in bed, under the blankets, facing him, the azure hue from the nightlight painting her face in blues and shadows. Damian took his clothes off and crawled under the blankets behind her, pulling her naked body to his. That distended heart of his promised to pop, as his girlfriend cuddled back into him, rubbing her ass against his cock, moaning when his arms wrapped around her.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled. “You’re right. I’ve been a jerk. Rhea and I can figure this out.”

Damian’s grin could have lit up the entire room. They are just alike. He kissed her neck softly, attacking her spots as his hand drifted along her body. She squirmed when he cupped her breast, rocking her hips against his. “I know you will,” he growled, omitting the text from Rhea. “Because you’re wonderful.” He pinched an already hard nipple, ripping a groan from deep in her throat. “And you’re perfect.” His stiffening cock thrust against the crack of her ass, and she reached back to clutch his hip over the blankets. “And you’re so fucking sexy.”

She giggled. “You sweet-talker.”

“Mhmmm,” Damian mumbled, nibbling on her earlobe. His warm hand slid from her breast, the pads of his fingers skating along her abdomen, and she lifted her leg so those fingers could slip into her dampening pussy.

“Fuck,” she whined, tightening her thighs around his hand as she rode his digits. “Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” she breathed. “I’m the one that screwed up.”

“That makes me right,” Damian boasted, “which means I get what I want. And this is what I want.” His middle finger slid inside her, her hips bucking to accept and bring him deeper. “I’m gonna make you cum at least three times before I even fuck that pussy.”

And he made good on his word, working her over with his fingers until she was trembling beside him not once, not twice, but three times, and by the third time, his girlfriend was a sobbing, quivering, begging-for-mercy mess. She almost protested when Damian began to slide his stiff manhood inside her, and maybe she did a little, but her objection was weak and unconvincing. His hand on her thigh lifted her leg in the air, she pivoted her hips, and her pussy sucked him deeper within her, Damian groaning.

“God, I can’t,” she all but wept, “I can’t, I can’t.” She repeated the words in time with Damian’s pumps, and he nuzzled her neck with tender kisses.

“Yes, you can,” Damian panted. “You’re doing so good. You can take just a little bit more.” He placed her leg gently on top of its twin, tightening her already impossibly tight cunt, and he squeezed her hip before thrusting into her. “That’s it,” he whispered, watching with wild eyes as his girlfriend fisted the sheets and bit down on the pillowcase, “take it for Papí.”

His girlfriend lurched, strangled sounds escaping her lips as her pussy pulsed around him. And that was enough to send Damian over the edge. He pressed his face to her hair and emptied himself inside her, his hips stuttering, pounding, pausing, thrusting again. After several moments, he tried to pull out, but she grabbed hold of him anyway she could, and that’s where he stayed.

“Don’t even think about moving for at least the next five to seven hours.”

Damian chuckled. “Little sensitive?”

His girlfriend scoffed. “You would be too if you just came three times in a row.”

“Oh, you didn’t cum while we were fucking? Let me fix that.”

Her grip on him tightened. “Don’t even think about it. I swear, I don’t even know what Rhea and I are fighting about. I’m the one that needs protection from you.”

Damian laughed again. “I love you, mi vida.”

“I love you … jerk.” 🎀 Papí - Daddy 🎀 Mi vida - My life

#wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #damian priest x reader #damian priest smut #damian priest kinklist #damian priest fanfic #damian priest imagine #damian priest fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe fandom #wwe smut #damian priest

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eunnieboo · 1 month ago

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IYHM ask replies! (1/3)

🌸 @daniluvz asked:

I am so happy, I got your book and I am excited it's finally next in my to be read pile!!!!!! I know this is way to soon to ask but will you be making another book? (I had to ask, I know you literally just came out with this one not to long ago, but I love your art and it has inspired me to continue my journey in art and graphic novel) sending all the love and well wishes❣️❣️❣️

wahhh thank you so much!!!! oh my gosh, while it's not a sequel, i AM making another book! i feel like i'm the type to keep big projects close to my chest until the moment i can reveal it to the world, but i have to confess i'm very excited about this one... AH i can't wait!

wishing you well too, i'm so excited for your journey omg!!! sending you all the luck and love in the world!!!!! 💖💖💖

🌸 @perseusrising asked:

my girlfriend and i read your book together! it was absolutely spectacular! thank you so much for sharing such a beautiful story

oh it makes me so happy when i hear about people reading it together!! especially couples! what a wonderful experience to share. thank you <3

🌸 @ggwweenn1 asked:

I work at a library and read "If you'll have me" because I saw it in our new book delivery and thought "oh hey I know them from Tumblr" and then immediately was like "ok ok where can I display this prominently so every 16 year old girl can read it!?!?!" xoxo

AHH i only want the best for everyone who works at libraries!! thank you for all your hard work!!! 😤 also OMG YES... i wish that every girl who needs this book may find it... tysm! xoxo!!

🌸 @elihoneybee asked:

my girlfriend got me iyhm for christmas im so happy thank you for this beautiful book

oh thank you so much!! ;_; i'm always so touched when i hear it's been given as a gift. i think books are such good presents! and giving them is such a sweet gesture <3

🌸 @mythicalphoenix14 asked:

I recently read your book and wanted to tell you how incredible the art was and the story.

oh my gosh. that means so much! thank you forever ♥

🌸 @animaestr0 asked:

me and my friends went to the bookstore a couple montsb back and i SAW "IF YOU'LL HAVE ME" on the shelf and i straight up screamed and yoinked it because I was late to the iyhm preorder chain and couldn't find it anywhere for a while BUT!!!! I HAVE IT NOWW WOOOOOOOOO

OMG YAYYYYYYY i'm so happy to hear that!!! YIPPEEEEE 💕💕 honestly i should've reblogged the preorder link more but i'm so slow to act and afraid of being annoying 😩 i wanna try harder next time!!

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I saw your sneak peak scene on twitter and i just fell in love with your artstyle in a heartbeat, the colors, your way of setting the scene and i just wanted to tell ya i ordered if you'll have me! ps: i'm from germany! :)

you are so wonderfully sweet oh my gosh! ;0; thank you so much for your kind words!! may it get to you safely~

🌸 Anonymous asked:

i saw iyhm in a store today! i'm in australia so i was going to buy it online but i was so moved seeing irl :') it's on my bookshelf. congrats on getting published, i'm so excited to read it!

oh my goodness, thank you! SAME every time i see it in a store, my heart skips a beat 💓 i feel very grateful to have physical copies out in the world, especially with the state of digital media preservation today... thank you again!!

🌸 @unfortunatelyem asked:

read the iyhm graphic novel in one sitting and almost cried!!! thank you for the food🙏

wahhh thank you so much for reading and enjoying!!!!

🌸 @dancingcoder28 asked:

Just wanted to tell you that I saw your book in my local library! I am so happy and excited to see it because it’s such a good book, and definitely deserves to be put out there 💜💜💜💜

AHHH yessss we love libraries!! omggg thank you so much for this lovely message, that means the world 💛💛💛💛

🌸 Anonymous asked:

HI HELLO i just wanted to let you know that my friends and i went to the big barnes and nobles in NYC recently and i recognized If You'll Have Me on display and ofc i HAD to have it so I picked it up right away and absolutely adored every page of it and thank you sososo much for giving us such a lovely story <33 it made me smile so much !!!!!!!

OMG THANK YOU AHHH!!!!! oh i wanted so much for it to make someone smile!!! T_T my dreams are coming true... i hope it felt like a warm hug <3 <3

🌸 @cosmonautchan asked:

SAW YOUR BOOK AT MY LOCAL WATERSTONES!!! IT'S SUPER COOL!!!

THANK YOU AHHH HOW WONDERFUL!!! i would love to visit a waterstones someday!!

🌸 Anonymous asked:

Hiii I'm in the middle of reading IYHM (digital version cuz I don't trust my local post office sorry 😔) and it makes me feel so uwu. I'm happy to see wlw works out there (I've read mostly mlm so far). Momo is so relatable it almost hurts, I too overthink absolutely everything. Congratulations on the release!!! Here's to many more! 🎉 🥂

totally understand omg rip 😔🙏 but yayyyy i'm so thrilled! the overthinking is so real for me too. also uwu is EXACTLY the feeling i wanted to capture 😂 the uwus and the doki dokis... i wish i had even more time to show the girls being cute and fluffy with each other! maybe next time hehe. thank you so much!!!

🌸 @hyper0bject asked:

heyyy i just got a copy of IYHM in! excited to read it, been following the mini comics for a bit now and pulled the trigger on it a couple days ago :) even just looking it over it looks super quality, print and heft! thanks!

ahh i'm so happy to hear that! thank you so much!! i'm still so pleased with how the physical copies turned out. i like paperbacks because of how they feel to hold, but i was amazed to find out the hardback has the art printed right onto the cover! i totally wasn't expecting it. ty again! :>

🌸 Anonymous asked:

I just wanted to let you know I remember seeing art of momo and PG when I was in seventh grade (the "you're the cute one" art) and today I saw them on the cover of a book at my library and I almost couldn't believe it!!! I finished it within that same afternoon, and I gotta say I'm so happy you were able to publish these girls. I love them to bits. keep up the amazing work!!!

omg it's been so long since i drew that!! it's amazing that you remembered them and that they came back to you like this!!! thank you so much aw... this is so incredibly sweet... i wish i had more words to say thank you <33

🌸 @lemonbaristas asked:

Happy book birthday!!! 🎉

thank you so much!!! 🥺💕

part 2 is on its way~

#iyhm #replies #lemonbaristas #cosmonautchan #hyper0bject #dancingcoder28 #unfortunatelyem #animaestr0 #mythicalphoenix14 #elihoneybee #ggwweenn1 #perseusrising #daniluvz #anon

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fashionteahouse · 30 days ago

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out of your league - paul x reader

AN: There’s not enough words to thank all of you for the love and support for the first seven parts of this story! 💜 i heart you all xoxo

You didn’t care too much about graduation. Leaving the ceremony with your certificate was something you looked forward to. That’s when you felt like your real life would begin. The previous night was rough. Sam suspected a new threat, hearing a long screech. It even woke you out of your slumber with Paul grabbing your face, covering it with kisses and rushing out. In the morning, Paul was still gone. You were glad to see Kim but you weren’t too sure if the feeling was mutual. She still invited you to her graduation dinner.

It was intimate with peers that you and Kim both hung around with, who were in attendance. You still chose the seat next to her but it seemed like she talked to everyone else but you. You choose to pay it no mind. You already know majority of what she’s going through. You decide to text her.

“Are you okay?”

Her phone buzzes but she chooses to ignite up a conversation with the person next to her. You tried to rack your brain of what could be the possible reason she would not talk to you.

After another hour of lounging in her sitting room talking, one person gets up and says, “Im going to go change.” and two people stand up and walk too.

“Hm..” you say out loud. Kim looks over to you. You don’t even say anything and as you’re walking outside, disappointed and upset at the betrayal, Kim calls out to you.

“It’s not what you think.”

“You’re full of shit, Kim.”

“If I would’ve asked then we would’ve had to wait for Paul’s permission just to stay the night.” she says and you walk towards her.

“Kim. Don’t take your mood or whatever problems you have out on me. You didn’t even want to talk to me.”

“I feel like I barely see you anymore. Why can’t it be like how it used to be when we actually would have fun?”

“I’m trying my best Kim. My life is not set up for fun right now.” You try to tell her but she shakes her head as she looks at you.

“Right. Your life is set up for Paul, Y/N.”

“Whatever, Kim.” you say and turn to walk away.

“Rushing to see a boy who didn’t even show up to his imprint’s graduation.” she states.

You whip around, “You’re just jealous. You know nothing. How would you like it if I made remarks about Jared not wanting you?”

“I give up. Seriously. You’re clearly suffering from tunnel vision….You know what? I’m just going to focus on me.” she says projecting her voice. It sung. She was giving up on the friendship that you thought was strong.

“Good for you.” you tell her and choose to not look back.

You felt a type of way, feeling that what she did was unfair to you. She didn’t give you the option to make an opinion. You were going to sit at the beach since it was the perfect weather, but a small celebration seemed to be going on. You stand there for a bit, but you see a very tall cliff.

You walk your way through the woods, thick with leaves, dirt, and fallen branches. Tress began to disappear your figure from civilization. A faint whoosh makes you look up to see nothing. You look to the sides and turn around but still don’t see anything. You focus back onto route, fully convinced that it was just the wind.

A snap of a branch is heard above you. You snap your eyes to a tree above you that was in front of you. You see a person. Or something that looks very close to a person. You just remembered the pale skin, as it moved closer, you’ll never forget the dazzle in their eyes. You couldn’t help but look with your feet stuck to the earth and also wonder how they climbed so high up without you hearing a peep from them. Taking a good look at you, you noticed the amber coloring of their eyes and they take a deep sniff. They then crouch and lean forward in a fluid motion, reminding you of a lion who is after its prey.

Suddenly, you feel a force, you didn’t process yourself in the air until you fell into a pile of leaves. You raise your hands and large scrapes on your hands and inner arm making an appearance. Dirty blood trickles and it burns as you grimace. You hear snarling and growling and almost have a heart attack watching arms fly off into the air and almost scream seeing a torn off leg.

The fur, let you know that it had to be Sam and the others. You get up from your position and try to stand but your knee burns. You look down to also see another scrape. As the skin folds as you try to walk on it, a burning sensation makes you hiss. You also feel the throb on your hands and arm. A very human naked version of Paul comes into view. You couldn’t help that your eyes looked to his slinging body part in between his legs and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Two large hot hands grip your upper arms, feel all over your body, and lifts your chin. You slowly open your eyes. You suddenly smell the scent of smoke and fire, it smelled like something was cooking. You saw bluish faint flames erupt and you were in shock.

“Y/N.” he says and pulls you to him but you step back, his skin rubbing on the part that burns. He looks with a focused expression, his eyes meeting where you hurt. Without warning, he carries you back bridal style and he walks in long strides back to Emily’s house. He doesn’t let go of you when he takes you into the bathroom. Turning on the water, and shoving the door closed, he attacks your clothes first.

“Wait-“

“I have to clean you up. Plus, I want to get this vampire smell off of me.” he says as he carefully makes you bare before him.

He was gentle to bandage you and he was silent. Taking it all in as you sat watching him bandage your knee with his bedroom light shining. You just kept thinking about how enchanting the cold one looked. Besides the unnatural characteristics that it displayed, they looked like a perfect human being. You were staring off into space. You didn’t notice until you feel a nudge. You look down as Paul was on his knees with your finished bandages.

“Are you alright?” he asks. You nod, not letting him see you sweat and pull a weak smile. He’s not convinced. His eyebrows furrow.

“I’ve been calling you and you just went blank.” he explains and now it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. He gets up and sit next to you on the bed as you stare at the floor.

“What were you doing out there anyway? You never went that way before.” he asks facing you. You just shrug.

“You know.” he says, not buying it. You didn’t want to talk about it. It made everything seem too real. If you said it out loud, it wouldn’t just be a dream.

“I…I just wanted to sit at the cliffs.” you say.

“If I came one second later, you would’ve been…” he mutters, looking stressed out as he looks ahead.

You take your hand and rub his back in big slow circles. “Thankfully that didn’t happen.” you try to reassure him. You tried your best to forget that it happened.

The next day, he made sure to re clean the scrapes and also used ointment to decrease your chances of scars.

Eating lunch, you tuned out the conversation as Sam debriefs Emily on everything. You couldn’t take the looks of empathy from her. You were fine.

You couldn’t sleep. You stared awake at the ceiling and Paul was checking the perimeter with Jared before coming in for the night. You kept looking at window, afraid that a cold one might burst through it at any given second.

You sit on the floor and just decide to doodle to past the slow time, hoping it makes you tired. You didn’t notice your surrounds and didn’t notice until Paul’s voice makes you jump. You turn around to see him towering over you.

“You’re still awake?” he asks and you nod. He eyes the window, which makes you follow his eyes and it’s daylight. You’re confused until you look down at your pad and realize that you captured the visualization of your near death experience. You quickly shut it and Paul is still staring at you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. You shake your head, “I just need to sleep right now.” You climb into bed and this time you don’t face him. He’s worried.

You come out later in the day to see him lounging on a loveseat in Emily’s sitting room, watching a show. The show is soon forgotten when you enter, he keeps his eyes on you as you walk closer to him. He pulls and sits you on his lap. He looks at you for a minute as you see what show he’s exactly watching. You still feel his eyes on you and this makes you chuckle a bit, “What?”

He doesn’t match your playful energy. “You know you can talk to me.”

“Yeah. I know.” you say and nod your head and squeeze his knee, letting him know you understand.

At night, you kept staring at the ceiling. No matter how late, no matter how much you did in a day, you weren’t settled. You only waited for daylight. It kind of reminded you of the times you sneakily watched scary movies as a kid.

The eyes under your bags were more and more noticeable. At breakfast, Sam ordered Paul and Jared to patrol the area as he stays back. They ask why, Sam never missed patrol. Not even for Emily.

“Just do what I say.” he says authoritatively.

It’s just you and Sam left at the table, Emily is running errands for the day.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” he asks patiently.

“Nothing?” you say, trying to sound confused. You soon realize Sam’s alpha nature.

“You haven’t been sleeping. It’s all in your face. You jump at loud noises now. You haven’t really talked about what happened at the cliffs.” he says. You just sit there. Hearing what he’s saying, “You should talk to someone so you don’t have to make yourself forget.”

“I..Don’t have anything to say about what happened.” you tell him, leaning back in your chair and pulling your lip into your mouth.

“You can ask questions. You can open up. I’m not all mean and scary.” he says to lift your spirits.

“I know,” you say as you crack a smile, “I just wish…never mind.” you shake your head.

“No, go on. What were you about to say?” he says, encouraging you on. You sigh and look down.

“Is it bad that.. I don’t think I can get used to this supernatural world.” you say honestly. You felt guilty but also relieved that you no longer have to hold it in anymore. Sam just nods in a non judging manner. You feel more comfortable to let your feelings out.

“I really like Paul a lot but I miss when things were more normal. I miss when this was just in the unknown. I want to be there for him, but I just don’t know what to do. I feel like I lost my grip on control. A grip on my life.” you say and Sam strokes his chin in thought.

“Have you talked to him about this?” he says and your heart thuds a bit. You shake your head.

“I can’t. He will take it the wrong way. I might slip up and say the wrong thing.” you say with your eye contact focusing on the hands in front of you.

“I doubt it. Just tell him how you feel.” he says. Moments of silence pass comfortably and the hustle and bustle of both Jared and Paul is heard. You look down and Paul leans down and kiss your neck. You give him a weak smile.

Sam is talking with Jared but he gives you a look. You muster up a squeeze of confidence and ask Paul to take a walk with you.

You’re automatically clutching his arm, walking side by side with him.

“Are you alright?” he asks as he looks at the sky.

You were going to say yes but you chose other words instead. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

He turns his head to look at you, “What don’t you know?”

You hesitantly answered, “I don’t think…I mean, I don��t know..” you sigh and try again, “I just miss my normal way of life, I guess.” you say.

“Me too.” he mutters.

“I don’t know if I can get used to it.” you say as the footsteps start to halt.

“It’s pretty trippy, I’ll give you that.”

“What happens if I…” you look at the trees trailing off.

“What?” Paul asks as he looks into the distance.

“So, as long as I’m an imprint or apart of the pack, cold ones will come after me?” you ask. His eyes flicker to yours, “As long as you’re human.”

“What happens if you what?” he says, not forgetting what you were about to say. His gaze is intense, intimidating you.

You wring your fingers, “Um.. spend some time away from La Push.” you say in a small voice. He flickers his eyes away, slightly shaking his head. Looking down, he clenched his fists, now stepping on an insect.

“I don’t want you to think I’m trying to leave you.” you tell him but he glared at you.

“Leaving La Push is leaving me. I’m stuck here, Y/N.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. You then choose to fold your arms and pay attention to the bird that’s on your focus.

He chuckles at bitter laugh, “Was that what you were talking with Sam about?”

“He was just checking up on me. I just..Let out how I feel. I can’t help how I feel. I think you should be more patient with that.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “You should take your own advice.”

You throw your arms up slightly, “I almost died.”

“Every time I shift, death is a possibility.” he says deadpanned.

“I can’t sleep. I’m always scared. I can’t take it anymore.” you say and you didn’t mean to crumble your face, but you let it out on your hands. Pulling your hands from your face, he lets you cry it out on his chest.

“If I could leave, believe me, I would.” he says softly as he rubs your back.

After you wipe your face with your hands and with the help of his thumbs, you both turn back to the house.

He rattles the box of chess and you join him on the bed. He sets up his pieces, with you being in charge of the white team this time. He waits for you to go first. There was silence throughout the entire game. You secretly liked the silence. It let you to just be. You didn’t know what your future entailed anymore. This moment though, you felt you had control. Moving the pieces around the board in your favor.

You were very close to winning, but Paul wasn’t letting that happen. He cackles with satisfaction as you toss a pillow at him. Thanking him for the reason of your uplifted mood.

Sam comes in and urgency needs Paul outside. They have to watch out for a predicted shifter. Billy Black’s son. You heard of him, heard of the respect that Billy Black carried and began to understand. He strips, hands you his clothes with a passionate kiss and shifts into the woods.

You sit at the table with Emily as she drinks tea.

“It’s such a shame more young boys have to face this destiny.” she says. You nod and rest your face on your hands.

”What triggers it?”

“Cold ones in the area. It activates the bloodline to protect.” She simply explains and takes a careful sip.

You choose to look out of the window.

As days and weeks pass by as they monitor the young boy, you see some sort of lightness in that time frame. You had your assignment submitted, the editor in chief called and wanted to hook you up with showcasing your art to a well known gallery. The only problem, it was out of town. You needed to think on that.

Paul let you know he gets the keys to his new place next week.

“I’m so happy for you. Do you feel good?” you say with a beaming smile.

He showcases a smile that makes your heart melt instantly and nods, “It can finally just be us.”

Kim reached out and apologized. “You’re like a sister to me. I was so out of line.”

“It’s okay. Shit is crazy right now anyways.” you say and chuckle to yourself. You invite her over.

As the boys are away from patrol, you both help Emily with dinner. Sensing Paul coming in soon, your heart speeds up a bit. Sam comes through the door and kissed Emily senseless. Paul came in and cupped your cheeks and crushed his lips on you.

Kim and Jared just sat the table looking at each other. You move to the side and also sit at the table.

“It’s nice to have you over, Kim.” Sam says as he digs into his food.

“Its nice to be here.” Kim says quietly.

Forks scraping fills in the silence. It was painfully awkward. Jared just steals glances at Kim here and there.

“I have to go out of town for a couple of days.” You announce because the silence was too much.

“What for?” Paul asks.

You explain the opportunity that was presented to you.

“I love that for you.” Kim says smiling.

“I bet you do.” Paul says to her coldly.

“Paul.” Emily says to him with seriousness.

“Whats the problem?” You ask.

“We’ll talk later.” he says and gets up to put his plate away.

“Don’t let him talk you out of it.” Kim says. Your eyes grow big at her when she makes the statement. Paul clatters the plate down in the sink loud.

“You need to mind your fucking business.” he growls out.

“Paul just chill out man.” Jared says trying his best to be a mediator.

“I don’t even know why she’s here!” he says, and looks dead at her, “We all know your own imprint does not want you.”

You face palm as gasps surround the room and Jared just looks down. Kim’s face goes blank.

“Paul, outside.” Sam orders him and follows him out.

“I’m sorry about that Kim.” You go on to say. She shakes her head, “I thought we were going somewhere. You really don’t want me?”

Jared walks to her, “It’s not that I don’t want you, Kim..I feel like you don’t open up with me. I like to have fun and make people laugh. I’m not going to lie but…how should I say this?” He trails off.

“Kim, you don’t show him your real personality.” you say to her. Jared gives you a thank you with his eyes. Kim looks down, “I’m just nervous around you, that’s all.” Jared looks at her as if he understands, “You can be yourself with me, Kim.”

Just then, Sam and Paul comes back in. Paul’s face is softened up but you know that he’s still feeling a bit bitter. Sam jerks his head in Kim’s direction.

Paul didn’t want to. He looks at her so dirty that it made you feel bad for her. “Sorry.” he mutters barely audible without looking at her and storms off into his bedroom and slams the door. Sam sighs tiredly and looks to the ceiling.

“I can take you home.” Jared says and Kim smiles excitedly at that.

“Now, what was that?” You ask Paul as you move into the room, looking at him stare at a spot on the wall.

He shakes his head and scoffs.

“What?” you say and nudge his shoulder.

He scrunched his face, “Nothing. I’m going to bed. Sam is probably going to make us get up before the sun comes up.” he then turns over to go to sleep.

You shake his shoulder slightly, “Paul come on. You’re being overdramatic and you were rude.”

“I was not. I don’t just go off on people for no reason.”

“Okay, so what’s the reason.” you ask, having a feeling it’s some lame excuse. Silence sets in for a minute as you try to stay patient.

“You won’t believe me anyway.” he says quietly.

“Paul just say it.” you say, starting to get agitated.

“If this cause chaos, just know it was you who asked for it.” he says and grabs his phone. You watch him the entire time as he scrolls for some time. Before he hands you the phone, he faces it towards his chest, and he looks at you with seriousness.

“Remember when you told me Kim’s cousin had a party in Neah Bay?”

You nod, not knowing where this is going.

He hands you the phone and you hesitantly take it, eyeing him confused. “Read it.” he says. They’re obviously screenshots.

“I’m bringing my friend. She’s into art too.”

“What does she look like ?”

*picture attachment* “Her name is Y/N.”

“Damn she’s cute. She’s single right?”

“Shes not but if you talk to her good, she will be down with you.”

“Idk about that lol i’m not trying to get into ANY fights over a girl”

“You’re all the way in Neah Bay. The guy she’s with will only just drag her into his lowlife lifestyle. You saw how talented she is”

“Yeah but I don’t know if I should trust that”

“Just at least give her an idea to leave him”

”Thats crazyyy lmaoo” “No trust me. She wants to leave La Push to pursue her art seriously but he’s trapping her there. I just want her to hurry up and save herself before she gets knocked up by him :/ ”

The messages end and you look at his furious eyes.

“Who is this?” you say, “Who is she texting?” Refusing to believe.

“My cousin. He’s from there and was going to that same party. He sent that to me. Okay, look.” He takes the phone out of your grasp, scrolls some more. Then hands it back to you. It’s between Paul and his cousin now.

“Want to see what she looks like?”

“She’s probably ugly”

“Shut up” *picture attachment*

“Are you trying to be funny”

“? ? No”

“Fuck you”

“What? I’m serious. Her friend is just trying to hooking us up. Why are you mad? Do you know her or something ?”

“You’re dumb as hell. That’s MY gf “What’s her friend’s name?”

“Kim.” *screenshot attachment*

You look up and he’s giving you a “I told you so” look.

You look to the wall and you have nothing to say.

“And that’s your “friend” right?” he says to you.

You get up, feeling overwhelmed and grab your valuable items that you brought.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

You go to him, kiss him to let him know you’re not mad at him. You pull back and open his bedroom door, “I need to go home.”

He follows you out, calling for you to come back. You’re ignoring him while walking and he catches up to you and grabs your arm but you shrug it off hard, feeling irritated.

“Just leave me alone. Like, I’m serious. I need to be by myself right now or else I’ll be shitty to you so please…” you say and you continue walking.

Nothing was seemed as what it seemed. Fuming, you make your way back to your house. Paul called but you didn’t answer. You just text him.

“Let me think.”

He texts back like lightening, immediately reading your message.

“You’ll think yourself into a conniption”

You roll your eyes and place your phone some place where you can’t reach with it arm length. You grab your headphones and turn on some music. You just wanted a time in your life where you wasn’t so surprised that it was life altering. You lie there as music pumps through your ears, leaking into your head, thinking about why couldn’t your life be simple?

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starry-eyed-wild-child · 7 months ago

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🌻 tate langdon boyfriend headcanons 🌻

tate langdon x reader

💜 oh lord, buckle up guys, you're in for a wild one

🧡 he definitely fell first and 100% harder and you can't tell me otherwise

💜 we all know how tate is, he's very clingy and he's very very possessive of what's his. and that's how he views you, you're his and nobody else's

🧡 would definitely stay hidden at first, just so he could watch you for a bit. at this point, there's nothing about you that tate doesn't know

💜 when you finally meet, tate swears he could die all over again and he'd die happy

🧡 tate would definitely act more innocent than he actually is. this boy knows how to cry on command and he will use it to his advantage, don't think just because he loves you that he wouldn't

💜 if anything, he does it because he loves you and he can't have you leave him like violet did

🧡 i hope you like nirvana, because tate will not listen to something that you like if he doesn't enjoy it. he's not very good at that

💜 tate always needs to be touching you. all the time. whether it's an arm around you or holding hands, this boy craves physical touch and to be the centre of your attention

🧡will probably try his best to get your friends to stop hanging around you so he can have you all to himself. will deliberately scare them to stop them from coming to the house

💜 would also certainly lie about ever doing such a thing were you to confront him about it

🧡 tate wouldn't ever want you to ever leave the house., if he had his way that is. would hate it if you chose to spend time with other people

💜 like what did they have that he didn't?

🧡 he would 100% be the type that watches you even when you're asleep. or anytime, really.

💜 would definitely want you to commit suicide, so that you can be with him forever. you of course find this idea insane and don't think he actually means it

🧡 he does. he's 100% serious

💜 i can imagine that tate gives really good hugs though. the warm, bear hugs that you never want to leave because they make you feel so secure and safe

🧡 is very big on comforting you after a bad day. he'll listen to your rants, let you cry in your arms, whatever you need him for and he'll do it

💜 let's be honest though, it's probably just another way he gains your trust so that you won't ever think of leaving him

🧡 feels extremely guilty if he ever hurt you in any way, or upset you

💜would probably just disappear for a few days because he can't face the fact that he's hurt you. but obviously he comes back because the boy can't help himself

🧡 tate is your ride or die. he would die for you all over again if you asked him to and alternatively would kill for you if that's what you required

💜 makes silly little handmade gifts for you. tate can't leave the house so he has time to be creative

🧡 it's even better if it's raining outside when he makes them, it sets a nice vibe

💜 loves, loves halloween. the two of you would carve pumpkins together and sit for hours in your room telling ghost stories and drinking apple cider

🧡 if tate had his own way, you'd never meet his mother

💜you do eventually and she probably hates you lmao, but do we really care let's be real here

🧡 tate is the kind of boyfriend that would make a playlist for you as a present

💜 he'd try his hardest to make sure you don't find out about his past. which lasted about 2 months max because you're not stupid

🧡 violet, vivien and moira would try and protect you at all costs. they're like your three guardian angels, whether they decide to show themselves to you or not

💜 i imagine you'd actually get on with violet really well

🧡 this could go one of two ways with tate. he'd love it, both girls he'd loved were getting along, makes his life easier. or, he'd hate it. hate that you choose to spend time with the girl that broke his heart

💜 isn't really big on nicknames tbh, he thinks your name is the most beautiful word he knows, and so he wouldn't dream of calling you anything else

🧡 tate is 100% the little spoon, don't fight me on this

💜 absolutely lives for your affection. he thrives best on it

🧡 would be sweet but low-key toxic, so solid 6/10

#ahs #ahs murder house #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years ago

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Five-Point Star (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Bodyguard/Assassin!Chan x Mercenary!F.Reader Themes: Smut | bit of Fluff | Angst | Strangers to lovers to enemies but lovers? (i don’t even know how to categorise this one) Word Count: ~6k | AO3 Synopsis: With a career like yours, you knew you shouldn’t let yourself fall in love. But honestly, in retrospect, there was no way you wouldn’t have fallen in love with Chris. After meeting him, you couldn’t help but hope that he’d be the last person you fell this deeply for–maybe foolishly so… Warnings: pet names · cold weapons · firearms · questionable morals · graphic depictions of violence · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · open ending.

Author’s Note: as soon as i watched the 5-STAR trailer my creative juices started flowing, and i set camp in my google docs until this piece was born. please don’t hesitate to let me know if i missed any warnings… this one’s a bit sad (or, at least, it made me sad). i apologise in advance. thanks once again to @straylightdream and @cursed-mars-bars for reading this and letting me know it didn’t suck💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 >

Smut Warnings: unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · finger sucking · some praising, of course · oral [F&M Rec] · rimming [F.Rec] · nipple play · creampie · overstimulation · multiple orgasms

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

In your line of work, it was hard to have any kind of interpersonal relationships. Having either platonic or romantic connections posed a risk, not only to you, but also to the others involved.

Even then, you were a firm believer that, as long as no one knew your identity while you were ‘on the clock’, was enough for you to keep at least a handful of people close to you. You had a few close friends, some with a similar profession to yours, some just office or retail workers that had no idea what you did for a living. What you didn’t have, though, was a romantic partner.

It was tough to keep a relationship going when you couldn’t tell them what you did to bring food to the table. You’d always dance around the topic fairly easily, but, eventually, the situation would become unsustainable, and either you or the other person decided to break things off.

You’d been single for a while now–a long, long while–and you honestly had no active desire to find yourself a romantic companion. That was…until you met Chris.

Chris was a friend of a friend of a friend, someone you had seen once or twice at the odd social gathering you attended. He was incredibly handsome, but, most importantly, he was funny, always made you laugh whenever you interacted, and also seemed to have similar interests to yours.

In a twist of fate–and against your better judgement–you ended up going on a date with him. A date that, surprisingly, ended with you and him tangled in his bedsheets. That night, you discovered that, not only were you compatible with Chris when it came to opinions on the current state of the world, on the theories for the next season of your favourite shows, but also in bed.

It was honestly almost crazy how good he made you feel, how there seemed to be sparks flying in the air whenever your bodies touched in any way, and, not to throw roses on your own garden, but you were confident that you made him feel good, too. So much so, the next morning, when you had to leave and he’d kissed the oxygen out of your lungs before dropping the most adorable ‘You’ll call me back, right?’ you knew you had no escape, that there was no way you’d pass up this opportunity.

Five months down the line and you already had a Christopher-shaped hole in your heart. You knew it was stupid, that it was dangerous, but you just couldn’t help it. Not when he was quite possibly the best romantic partner you’d ever had–to be fair, the bar was already quite low, but he still managed to jump ten metres over it.

In any relationship you’d ever had you always avoided the topic of work, not only yours, but the other person’s, too. If you avoided asking about their job, maybe they wouldn’t ask about yours, that was your reasoning. However, you’d discovered that people loved to talk about their jobs, that some people even made them their one and only topic of conversation, which was incredibly inconvenient.

Thankfully, Chris didn’t talk about work at all. Not his, nor yours. You had no idea what he did for a living, all you could infer was that it paid enough for him to live comfortably in his cosy flat. You honestly didn’t care, he could keep that information to himself as long as you could keep yours as well.

What you did for a living was probably not the most morally right career path, but it was your family trade. You’d been trained for it since you were very young, so it was honestly a no brainer for you. Some people called it a gun for hire, some called it being a mercenary, you, personally, didn’t particularly feel like calling it anything at all.

People hired you whenever they needed someone kidnapped, tortured, or killed. And, although you had killed for your job before, you almost always tried to turn those offers down. Clean-up was messy, and even if you hardly had any empathy for your targets, killing them always made you feel a bit uneasy.

Two nights ago you were called in for a job, the kidnapping of the eldest son of the Kim family that ruled the capital city. Seungmin, his name was. Based on the investigation you’d done he was younger than you, a bit rowdy, and an apparent oddball. He, very inconveniently for you, also had a handful of very skilled bodyguards protecting him at all times.

You couldn’t find any records of those bodyguards of his, only that they called themselves the Five-Point Stars, and that they were good at what they did. Regardless, you had a lot of confidence in your own abilities. After all, never once had you lost a fight, nor been unable to finish one of your jobs–although you’d been close to being killed sometimes, you’d admit.

As soon as you woke up, you started to recount the plan you had put together for your mission tonight.

After wiretapping his personal tailor’s phone, you heard him tell someone how he had prepared Seungmin’s suit for the night. You knew Seungmin was going to attend a screening of a new movie that was financed by his father. It’d be dark, crowded, and the perfect setting for you to sneak in, get him unconscious, take him out of there, and hopefully outsmart his bodyguards.

A particularly loud snore next to you snapped you out of your focus, and you turned around to find Chris on his back, with an arm over his eyes and his mouth slightly open. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, and, for a moment, even if just for this morning, you decided you wanted to enjoy being just a regular civilian instead of a trained assassin.

“Baby…” You reached for Chris’ shoulder to lightly shake him awake. “Baby, wake up”.

Chris’ whole body tensed. His hand flew to catch yours that was shaking him awake, and he held it in a tight grip. Throughout your relationship you’d discovered that Chris had incredibly quick reflexes, and a very intense fight or flight response, so his sudden movement didn’t faze you in the slightest. “W–what?”

“You were about to choke, baby. You need to move”, throughout your relationship, you’d also learnt that Chris suffered from a sleeping disorder. You found out about it the first time he woke you up in the middle of the night gasping for air.

Poor thing, he’d been so embarrassed while he told you about it, but you were quick to reassure him that you didn’t mind, if anything, it only made you worry about him.

Because that was how important Chris was to you. Important enough for you to care about his sleeping habits, important enough that he warmed your cold heart.

So now, any time you were awake and you heard him snore particularly loudly, you woke him up before he could choke on his spit.

“Ah… Thank you, sweetheart”, he mumbled, clearly still half asleep.

Chris turned to his side, scooting closer to you and pulling you into his arms. You couldn’t help the small giggle that left your lips as soon as your head was tucked under his chin, just like he seemed to not be able to contain his at all, either.

The feeling of his bare skin against yours was incredibly comforting, his warmth seeped into you, reaching areas deep within your heart that no one else ever had before.

As you laid there in his arms, as you heard his heartbeat under your ear, and as you felt the minute rumbles of his snoring resume, you realised this was probably the happiest you’d ever been with a partner, and you hoped that your relationship with Chris would be the last one you ever had.

Getting into the movie screening was easy. Your specialty was sneaking around undetected, you’d learnt to walk without making a sound–no sound from your feet hitting the ground, nor your breath going in and out of your lungs, nor your clothes moving with the wind…

You’d also heard from Seungmin’s tailor–whose name was apparently Hyunjin–that the Kims had a special, private room in this particular cinema, so that was likely where the eldest son of the family would be.

Finding this room was the hard part. It wasn’t in any of the blueprints of the building, so you spent a good hour surveying the place, until you finally saw a waiter coming out from what seemed to be a simple wall.

Tightening the hood over your head, making sure the lower part of your face was covered properly by your kerchief, you made your way to that wall to inspect it closely. There was a tile on the wall that was shaped differently than the others. It was barely perceptible, just a tad smaller than the ones around it, so you pressed on it, and immediately you were able to push what you now knew was a door camouflaged as part of the wall.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you saw Seungmin, sitting on what looked to be a very comfortable armchair, watching the movie from behind the glass that kept this area hidden from the rest of the auditorium.

Slowly, you approached him, careful to not make a single sound as you unclipped the rope you had attached to your belt. Before you could use it, though, you felt a slight disturbance in the air around you, and every single one of your senses zeroed in on the direction of it.

In a second, you ducked, just barely missing the bat that had been swung your way.

“Chan!” You heard Seungmin scream, but you didn’t dare turn to look at him, not when his bodyguard had all his attention on you.

It was just one man. You could barely make out the features of his face, not only because it was dark, but also because he had a mask covering the lower half of his face, and because he was moving so fast you could hardly take in anything else.

The man, Chan, based on the name Seungmin had screamed, certainly put up a good fight. Any blow you sent his way he blocked without much difficulty, just like you did his. It was a pretty on par encounter, but you were running out of time. The longer you stayed there, the more time you were giving them to get back-up, so you reasoned the wisest choice was to retreat. This mission was getting way too dangerous, and if they captured you it’d all be over.

Chan wasn’t giving up, though, and he was making it incredibly hard for you to make your escape. You managed to kick him in the chest, but aside from a grunt of discomfort he didn’t relent, and, with a swing of his bat, he was able to land a hit on your arm.

It was painful, yes, but you could hardly feel it with the adrenaline pumping through your system. Taking a knife from their designated place on your bodice, you threw it in Chan’s direction. It didn’t stab him, but it did manage to cut one side of his mask, enough to distract him so you could make your escape.

By the time you were out of the cinema the place was full of guards, so you knew your night was over.

It didn’t matter.

You hadn’t lost. You were just experiencing a set-back.

“Missed you so much, gorgeous”, Chris mumbled between kisses, further pressing you against the back of your front door.

“Missed you, too”, was all you mumbled back, unable to keep your lips away from his for too long.

You hadn’t seen Chris for seven whole days. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to, you were honestly desperate to see him, but once you were back at your place after your failed attempt to kidnap Seungmin you realised how hurt your body was.

That guy Chan had certainly done a number on you, and the only thing that kept you from bursting into flames by the rage you felt, was the fact that you were sure you’d done a number on him, too.

Your bruises had now just started to fade, so you figured they were now normal-looking enough that your boyfriend wouldn’t think much about them.

You were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but as soon as Chris was at your doorstep, as soon as his lips were on yours, you both quickly realised you didn’t want to go for dinner anymore. How could you, when the taste of each other was much better than any meal you could possibly have?

“Come here”, Chris pulled himself away from you, taking a hold of your hand and tugging you towards the sofa. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about those nudes you sent me”.

You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face. Of course he couldn’t stop thinking about the pictures you sent him. That was their entire purpose, after all. They were simple, really, but clearly enough to rile him up. It was just you riding one of your favourite dildos, with your ass on full display for him to ogle.

Chris pushed you to the sofa. As soon as you were seated he dropped to his knees, and spread you open for him. Wearing a skirt to your date was certainly the wisest choice you made tonight.

“Maybe I should send you a video next time. I’ll ride it just like I ride you”, you said, just as you lifted your hips enough for him to pull your underwear down your legs.

“Fuck, you spoil me too much”, was the last thing to come out of Chris’ mouth before he dived between your legs. His lips found your clit with expert ease, gently sucking on it.

Your entire body came alight, a moan of his name escaped your mouth, and you brought a hand to his head so you could tug on his curls, just how you knew he liked it. “So fucking good with your mouth, baby, fuck…”

Chris simply hummed in response, sending vibrations through your body, making you whine.

With his hands on the back of your thighs, he pushed your legs further towards your chest, getting better access to your centre. Chris had very quickly learnt his way around your body, and he’d even shown you new ways in which you could feel good, ways you’d never even imagined you’d get to experience.

His tongue changed focus, from your clit to your entrance, diligently licking your folds, and he groaned at the taste of you on his tongue once he pushed it within your walls. He stayed there for a while, occasionally coming back up to lick and suck on your clit only to come back down to slurp you up. Until he finally moved further down so he could lick the tender skin of your ass, all while he stimulated your clit with his fingers, making you shiver.

Desire pooled in the pit of your stomach, and the most pathetic whine left your mouth as soon as he started to lave at your skin. You would’ve never thought how good this could feel, never let a partner come anywhere near your ass, but one night, after drinking one too many beers, the topic of things you would’ve liked to try in bed came up.

You could still remember the look on Chris’ face when he confidently said ‘I’d really like to eat your ass. Like, would love to, honestly’. And maybe it’d been the fact that you were a bit tipsy, or the fact that he was so utterly unashamed when he said it, or maybe even the fact that you trusted Chris like you’d never trusted anyone else before, but you weren’t entirely displeased with the idea… So you gave it a try, and now you couldn’t even fathom getting head if you didn’t feel his tongue on your ass at least once.

Without detaching his mouth from your sensitive skin, he brought two fingers to your mouth, and you wasted no time on wrapping your lips around them, sucking on them, licking them. You couldn’t help but moan around his digits, and Chris simply gave you a satisfied hum in response.

He let you enjoy the feeling of his fingers in your mouth for a while, until they were thoroughly coated in your saliva. As soon as he removed them from between your lips, he brought them to your entrance and pushed them into you, to the last knuckle. “C’mon, baby. Show me your pretty tits. Hm?”

You just nodded in response, unable to form a sentence with the now relentless pace of his fingers continuously hitting the most sensitive areas within your walls. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your blouse and squeezed your breasts over the fabric of your lace bralette before you pulled them out of the cups.

“Shit, look at you… Touch them, baby. Just how you like it”.

So you complied, lightly dragging your fingers over your now stiff nipples, sending tiny shocks of pleasure up and down your spine with the motion. The stimulation you were giving to your chest, Chris’ fingers going in and out of your cunt, and the dirty words coming out of his mouth brought you close to the edge, and you started to feel incredibly desperate for your relief.

“Chris, baby…” You whined as Chris sped up his motions, as you rolled your nipples between your fingers.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Chris’ voice was so soft, a complete contrast to the brutal pace of his fingers.

“Want your–Your mouth”, you could barely hold eye contact anymore, seeing the desire in his eyes brought heat to your cheeks. It was always the same when he found himself between your legs, he always looked at you like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and it made you feel incredibly wanted.

“Hmm… You sure that’s what you want?”

You nodded, a bit frantically, you’d admit. “Want your mouth to…make me come, please, love–”

You knew that the second the word ‘please’ left your mouth you’d get exactly what you asked for, and you barely registered the broken moan that flew past your lips as soon as his lips attached to your clit once again.

Chris’ movements didn’t relent until you were coming. They didn’t even relent while you were coming. He kept sucking on your clit, fucking you open with his fingers, turning you into a whimpering mess as he pushed you past the brink of overstimulation, and making you fall face first into a consecutive high.

When he was done with you, you were still trembling, panting, and he finally left his place on the floor to sit next to you on the sofa and pull you into his chest so he could softly caress your hair, mumbling sweet words of encouragement. ‘Mmm… Such a good girl, aren’t you, love? So good to me. You did well…’

You just hummed, burying your face in the crook of his neck to leisurely press kisses on his skin.

As soon as you regained some of your composure, you kissed him. You kissed him with such want one would’ve thought he hadn’t just made you feel like you’d gone to the moon and back four times. You quickly undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and tugged them and his underwear down just enough to let his length free of its confinements.

In no time, you had straddled him and sunk yourself on his cock, eliciting a shared sigh of relief.

You sneaked a hand under his shirt just as you leaned in to kiss him again. His abdomen tensed and relaxed while you slowly traced every muscle with your fingertips, your soft caresses eliciting content sighs to fall from his lips and get lost in your mouth. Taking a hold of the hem of his shirt, you tried to get it off of his frame, but Chris shook his head, pulling your hands away and mumbling a “no time for that… God, bun, move…”

Chris held your ass tightly in his hands as you bounced on him. His mouth attached to your chest, sucking your nipples into his mouth so he could lick them, nibble on them. Under the unfaltering pace of your hips, it only took a handful of minutes to turn him into a moaning, whining mess.

“Fuck, baby… If you don’t slow down, I’ll blow”, Chris nuzzled his face on your chest, and you brought your hands to the back of his head, further pushing him into your cleavage.

“Good”, was all you told him, admittedly a bit breathless. “Need you to fill me up, Chris, baby… Need it so bad…”

Chris swore under his breath, and his hold on your buttocks tightened. It wasn’t long until you got exactly what you wanted. With a moan of your name, your boyfriend pumped you full of his release, making you whine at the warmth of his cum reaching deep inside you.

You didn’t stop moving, though.

Even if your thighs were burning, you kept bouncing on his cock, until his groans of relief turned into desperate whines, until he was whimpering against your chest and digging his short nails on the supple flesh of your buttcheeks.

“P–please…” You heard him whine, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t felt accomplished by the sound. That was when you took pity on him, finally sitting down fully on his lap and stopping your movements.

Chris groaned, exhaling all that air he’d been holding in while you overstimulated him. He threw his head back to rest it on the backrest of the sofa, looking eighty shades of fucked out of his mind. He was breathing heavily–as were you–and he could barely keep his eyes open, but he still let out an incredulous laugh, giving you one of his blinding smiles, making you smile in return.

Cupping your cheeks, he pulled you down for a kiss before he whispered, “I fucking love you”.

And once he said it, you finally let yourself voice those thoughts that had been roaming your mind for a while now, just before you leaned in for another kiss. “I love you, baby”.

By the time you had both thoroughly enjoyed one another, you were too tired to leave your place. So you ordered takeout, got into your comfiest pyjamas, and decided to have your dinner date in the warmth of your home while watching your favourite show together.

Although, to be fair, you didn’t get very far into the show. With your now full stomachs, Chris pulled you into his arms while you both laid on the sofa, softly caressing your hair as he sang to you, inadvertently lulling you to sleep.

This Chan guy was seriously testing your patience.

Every time you tried to get to the Kim kid he’d always be there, he’d always manage to get you to back off. It was starting to hurt your pride, and, even if you were one to avoid killing, you started to genuinely consider taking his life just so he could stop being a nuance.

You’d had three other failed attempts at your task since that fiasco in the cinema, so tonight would hopefully be the day you succeeded. Seungmin was to attend a piano concert at one of the classic theatres his family owned, meaning he’d once again be in a dark, crowded place. There was no hidden room as far as you could tell from your surveillance earlier this week, so that gave you some semblance of peace.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact that this particular job was taking longer than usual to get it over with, or if it was the fact that you kept being forced to retreat by that one bodyguard of Seungmin’s time and time again, but lately you’d been incredibly frustrated, and it seemed like the only way to get that frustration out of your system was to get it fucked out of you. Luckily, even if your boyfriend didn’t know what was going on, he had been giving you exactly what you needed and more any time you asked for it.

The droplets falling down Chris’ pecs and his toned stomach added a delightful shine to his physique, yet you could hardly focus on any of it. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of his cock on your tongue, heavy and warm, the delicious sounds coming out of his mouth and bouncing off of his shower’s walls as you took him in and out of your throat, and the dark, lustful, but somehow still loving look in his eyes.

“Shit… You always tell me how good I am with my mouth… But what about you, baby, huh?” Chris leaned his head back on the tiles, holding your head in place so he could start slowly thrusting into your mouth, making you moan.

You just couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him to fuck you dumb, you needed to further disconnect your mind from reality outside of these walls. So, with a tight grip on the base of his cock, you pulled your mouth off of Chris and started pumping him in your hand, looking him right in the eyes.

“Fuck me”.

Chris just laughed as soon as the words were out of your mouth. He swiftly helped you to your feet so he could turn you around and push your chest against the cold tile wall. “Someone woke up a bit needy today. Hm?”

“And what if I–Fuck…” You completely forgot where your sentence was going as soon as you felt your boyfriend push himself into you, stretching you open just so perfectly all you could do was rest your forehead against the wall when he started to move.

“Maybe you should move in…” Chris attached his lips to your shoulder, kissing and sucking on your skin as his hand found its way towards your front, right between your legs to diligently rub that sweet bud at the apex of your thighs. The mix of his motions between your legs, of the words he mumbled against your skin, and the obscene sound of your wet skin colliding time and time again was steadily clouding your reason, enough to genuinely consider what he was offering. “If you did, we could do this every day, sweetheart…”

“Maybe I should…” You were certainly delirious, there was no way you could live with another person while trying to keep your trade a secret. But the longer you stayed in that shower, relishing the company and precise motions of your boyfriend, the more you wanted to believe it was possible.

Even after he’d coaxed a mind-numbing orgasm out of you, after he’d stuffed you full of his cum, and after he’d helped you dry your hair with the hairdryer he kept in one of the drawers of his bathroom, when you both were getting dressed in his bedroom, you desperately wanted to believe it was possible to have a normal life. Maybe you should start considering retirement… But would you be able to live a civilian life without the thrill of your job? You weren’t too sure. For Chris, though, you might try…

“Come here, bun”, Chris suddenly held your waist and dropped to his bed, bringing you down with him. All you did was laugh, scrambling to find a comfortable position on top of him so you could kiss him.

He was really giggly today, and the sound warmed you up. You dragged your fingers over his still damp curls as you peppered his face with kisses, chuckling with mirth and an immense amount of love for this man that had managed to make you feel a bit normal again.

“Pretty?” Chris tried to get your attention. You just hummed in response to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t stop pressing kisses on his cheek.

With his hands on your waist, he tried to get you to look at him. “Listen, baby. There’s…there’s something I’d like to tell you…”

You finally pulled yourself away a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. He looked incredibly serious, more than you had ever seen him over the course of your relationship, and it gave you pause.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but before any words came out, the obnoxious ringtone of his phone interrupted him. With a roll of his eyes and an annoyed sigh, he gently pushed you off of him, muttering a ‘Gimme a sec, gotta take this…’

You watched Chris leave the bedroom entirely before you stood up from his bed and continued getting dressed. You could hear your boyfriend’s hushed voice coming from the living room, but you couldn’t make out a single word. Maybe it was for the best, you honestly didn’t like to pry on his private conversations. After all, you’d hate it if he tried to eavesdrop on yours, all things considered.

By the time he was back you had already gotten yourself into a fresh set of clothes. There was a frown on his face, but it quickly disappeared the moment he spotted you by his mirror.

Standing behind you, he placed his hands on your belly, pulling you back towards his chest as he pressed kisses on your neck. You just hummed, watching him through the mirror and melting in his hold.

“Babe”, you mumbled, getting him to open his eyes and look at you through the mirror. He rested his chin on your shoulder, intently listening to you. “What’d you want to tell me?”

Chris took a deep breath, pulling himself away from you to take a hold of your hips once you turned around and looped your arms around his neck. “It’s nothing urgent. Say… What if we go on a little vacation to the coast this weekend?”

“Mmm… A little escapade?” You chuckled, and Chris hummed in response, cupping your cheek with one hand to pull you in for a kiss.

If everything went well tonight, you’d more than appreciate some time to wind down from the entire thing, and spending the entire weekend relaxing, barely even clothed, listening to the waves crashing against the breakwater with Chris sounded like absolute heaven. It’d be like your own little celebration for your win over that insufferable guard dog of Seungmin’s.

“Sounds like a great idea, baby”, you told your boyfriend as soon as his lips detached from yours, smiling brightly at him.

The sound of the piano could be heard perfectly even outside of the theatre. You didn’t know the name of the piece, but it was clear that it was being played by expert hands. Even if you were mostly impassive whenever you fell into your…professional mode, you were still a bit on edge after months of having your plans ruined by Chan, so the melody floating in the air certainly helped soothe you a bit.

The corridors to the main hall were empty, completely quiet save for the sound of the piano bouncing off of the walls. The old construction was a bit difficult to navigate, but you’d gotten well acquainted with the place throughout the past week, so you found your way to the concert hall with ease.

Everything was dark, save for the lights shining on the stage, illuminating the silhouette of the musician sitting on one of the three pianos that’d been set on the podium.

Something felt odd, though.

In an instant, you noticed the emptiness in the hall. The music stopped, replaced by a loud bang and the sound of the bullet hitting the wall, right where your head had been just seconds before your instincts kicked in and you moved away.

It was a trap.

You’d stupidly let them lure you in here, where Seungmin was, very clearly, not even present.

No matter. You might not get your target tonight, but you could still get your peace back.

Chan kept firing at you from the stage, and you continued to expertly dodge his bullets as you swiftly got closer to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear your father’s voice from back when he was training you, telling you that chasing after someone that wasn’t the one you’d been hired to attack was foolish, that it’d put you at risk. You didn’t care, this was personal now.

Taking one of the knives from your bodice, you threw it in Chan’s direction, just barely missing his form when he ducked out of the way. It felt like it lasted for a long time, you throwing knives at him, and him shooting at you, until you made it to the stage and he had no option but to physically fight you.

He was incredibly agile, but so were you. Especially after having fought him so many times. You’d picked up his tells, how he shifted his weight on his heel before he threw a punch, how he moved slightly to the left when he kicked, so it’d gotten easier to counterattack each and every single one of his moves.

Chan was good at what he did… But you were better.

With a kick to his knee and a push on his chest, you managed to send him to the floor and pin him under you. He tried to move, but you swiftly pressed one of your knives to his neck, effectively stopping his movements.

There was a moment of silence, a moment of you staring down at him, and a moment of him staring up at you.

This was the first time you’d actually gotten to see his face this clearly. There was usually barely any illumination whenever you’d fought before, and both of your quick movements made it easy to miss the details on the exposed areas of your faces. His straight hair pushed off of his forehead–save for one single piece that seemed to always be out of place–gave you plenty of room to see the blue contact lenses he wore. You couldn’t help but wonder if those were simply for aesthetic purposes, or if they held any sort of special tech quality to them–he worked for the Kims, after all.

There was something eerily familiar in the way his eyebrows furrowed, in his eyes, even with the obviously fake blue colour. Whether you were going to kill him or not, you suddenly felt an intense need to see his face. All of it. So, with your free hand, you hooked your finger on the side of his mask so you could pull it off.

For a split second, you couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes were playing a trick on you. Despite the straight hair and the blue contacts, the curve of his lips and the shape of his nose were so distinct there was just no way this man could be anyone else.

You tried to never speak while on the clock. After all, your voice might be a very good indicator of your identity. It might’ve been the shock of seeing such a familiar face, but you really couldn’t help the name from coming out of your mouth, as a barely audible whisper. “…Chris?”

Confusion crossed the features of the man under you. His eyes jumped all over your face–or what could be seen of it, at least. His angry frown turned into a look of shock, mixed with some concern, and you saw his Adam’s apple bob in your peripheral vision when he swallowed, almost audibly.

You still had the knife pressed to his neck, but you were honestly unable to move at all. So much so you didn’t even flinch when he slowly started to move himself.

With a trembling hand, he reached for the black kerchief that covered the lower half of your face. You didn’t stop him, you just let him tug it down to your neck and reveal your face to him.

The sound of your name, coming out as a breathless whisper out of his mouth hurt more than any hit you’d received throughout the past handful of months.

“What the…fuck”, the hurt tone in his voice broke your heart, and you could feel the lump form in your throat. “All this time…?”

“I had no idea”, you couldn’t help the tremble in your voice, and you weren’t sure if you hated yourself for being so vulnerable in front of the enemy. But then again, he wasn’t only an enemy, he was also the man you’d fallen madly in love with.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to get to Seungmin?” His voice trembled, yet neither of you dared to move further.

“I was hired to do it”, you replied simply.

“By whom?”

“I won’t tell you… I…can’t”, you could feel them. The treacherous tears that pricked your eyes… Crying in front of the enemy was unheard of, but you supposed these weren’t normal circumstances.

Chris swallowed again, and you could see tears of his own well in his eyes. “So…what now, bun?”

The sound of the pet name coming out of his mouth fully obliterated the remaining pieces of your heart, and you couldn’t stop the tears from falling anymore. So you didn’t. “I–I don’t know…”

“You should kill me”, Chris said, very confidently, without any semblance of doubt in his voice. And even though your grip on the knife tightened, you didn’t move it, you just shook your head in response, trying to contain the sob that threatened to come out of your mouth.

“You should”, he repeated after a few moments of silence. “I’ve done…many horrible things in my life. I’ve killed people, tortured people… I’ve done it proudly, too”, Chris brought a hand to your wrist, holding it gently, but firmly. “I’ve made peace with all that a long, long time ago… But knowing I’ve spent months hurting the woman I love is something I can’t live with…”

“You didn’t know”, your hand started to tremble, too, and Chris’ hold on your wrist tightened to keep it steady.

“Doesn’t matter”, finally, tears started to fall from Chris’ eyes, and his voice broke a bit when he spoke to you. “I wanted you dead. Even if I didn’t know, I was trying to kill you”.

You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly.

Maybe, if you closed them hard enough, you’d realise this was all a dream, a horrible nightmare you could still wake up from.

“Why don’t you kill me instead?” You mumbled after a while, when you finally opened your eyes. “I, too, was trying to kill the man that I love…”

“I can’t stop protecting Seungmin. I won’t stop. I’m the only thing keeping you from reaching your target, pretty. Look at us…” Chris’ thumb softly caressed your wrist, right on the sliver of skin your gloves exposed. “Look at our positions. You know you already won”.

You shook your head again, and Chris pushed on your wrist, further digging the blade into his skin as he mumbled, “Do it…”

He was right, you had the upper hand. Logically, it made sense for you to kill him, but there was no way you would. What a selfish thing for him to ask… Did he think getting to Seungmin was more important than his own life? That you’d be fine just…taking it?

Yanking your wrist out of his grip, you threw your knife to the side, as far away from you as possible. Chris just looked at you, confused, hurt, and you just couldn’t bear to see that look in his eyes. In an instant, you were standing, finally getting off of him.

“Baby…” You mumbled, trying to steady the sound of your voice. You turned your back to him, unable to look at him any longer. “I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll make it to our vacation this weekend”.

With that, you started walking, trying to get as far away from that stage as possible.

The last thing you heard before you left the theatre altogether was the cacophony of sounds produced by what you knew to be the erratic smashing of piano keys, a complete contrast to the soothing melody you’d been listening to when you came in here… That soothing melody that you now knew was being played by Chan, by Chris, by your biggest rival who turned out to also be the love of your life.

As you left, with tears in your eyes, with your heart shattered in your chest, you realised that this was the first time you’d truly lost. There had been no room for you to win since the very beginning.

Part 1 (you're here!) | Part 2 >

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years ago

Text

Zuko x reader - one more time

Hey can I get a Zuko x reader where the it’s Legend of Korra era but what it is is that Korra or Bolin just anyone in the main group ask about his past s/o who was the reader and he talks about them in a sad old man way taking about his deceased lover 😭 thank you - Anon 💜

Korra had been trying to figure everything out, and she realised the only connection she had to Aang, the one that knew him when he was going through the same thing was Zuko.

So she visited him, and spent as much time as she could asking questions, asking for advice and help.

“I’m sorry Korra, but this is not something I’m so good at, (Y/N) was better at giving advice than I ever could have hoped to be.”

“(Y/N)? You’re partner?” Korra asked.

Zuko nodded his head and gestured for her to follow him.

He led her through a lavish garden, nearly cared for, and when they reached the middle he showed her a large statue and Korra stared at it.

You were absolutely stunning, you looked young, beautiful, elegant, yet powerful and a fair ruler.

“Wait.. I think.. I think I spoke to them. In the spirit realm.”

“You did?”

They both sat down in the bench opposite the statue of you.

“Yeah, they were the one that told me to come speak to you, that you would know what to do.” She said.

Zuko smiled and chuckled softly as he stared up at the statue in fondness.

“They always said I knew what to do, even if I didn’t realise it straight away.”

Korra looked at the former fire Lord, and she looked up at the statue of you.

“What were they like?” She asked softly.

Zuko smiled softly, turning his head to the floor before he looked back up at the statue.

“They were… they were strong, stubborn, like Katara, but peaceful and loving like Aang. They saw the beauty in everything around, but they were one of the bravest people I had ever met.”

Korra listened carefully as Zuko told her all about you.

He told her stories from when you two first met, how you had left the nation to fight with Aang, and you would always mock him for not being able to defeat you.

Then how he fell in love with you, on the day of the war ended, while he was fighting with his sister you risked your life for not only Katara, but for him too.

He loved your stubbornness, and your smiled that could light up a room on the darkest night.

“They were more then anything I could’ve ever asked for, they gave me the love and the forgiveness I never have asked for from anyone else…”

Zuko sighed, running his finger alone the lone wedding band on his finger.

“They were the love of my life and more…”

Korra reached out, placing her hand on his arm, making him look at her.

“You’ve done them proud, they told me how proud they were of you, and how much they miss you.” She said.

He smiled softly and looked at her.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He nodded his head and looked at your statue before turning to the young avatar.

“Do you think you can talk to them again?”

“I.. don’t know. Maybe.”

“If you do please give them this. I was going to give it to them on the our anniversary before they passed, I’ve carried it ever since.”

He handed over an old letter, and she took it, slipping it into her pocket.

“Of course, will you tell me more about them?”

Zuko smiled and carried on talking, and Korra just sat there listened to his stories.

She knew he was lonely, she heard from Katara how you were never without one another.

To loose your lover so early and have to go on through life without them? She couldn’t imagine how lonely and how painful it must be.

She heard the way he talked, the sadness in his voice, the tears brimming his eyes as all he could do was stare at the statue.

Korra looked at the statue and she saw something behind it, and all she could do was stare at the spirit.

She didn’t need to compare the looks to know immediately who it was.

She watched as you walked over and sat in front of your statue, resting your elbow on your knee, and you rested your chin on your palm as you smiled at Zuko.

“Ask him to tell you about the time he proposed to me.” You whispered softly.

“Can you tell me about the time your proposed to (Y/N)?”

“You really want to hear about that?”

Katara flicked her eyes to your spirit, and you gently nodded your head.

“I.. (Y/N) wants to hear it.”

“They’re here?”

Zuko knew the avatar could see spirits, talk with them, and he knew since the spirit realm was opened more and more were pouring through.

He never thought that you would come through though.

“They’re here…” she smiled.

Zuko looked around and Korra pointed to where you were sat, and all she could do was smile as he smiled to himself.

“It was supposed to be elegant, I had a large ball planned, everyone was invited, everyone was waiting for me. (Y/N) wore the most beautiful clothes you had ever seen, made out the finest silk you could ever see. I was walking down the stairs, and I tripped, falling the rest of the way and I knocked (Y/N) over along the way.” He laughed.

You laughed as well and nodded your head.

“I was so embarrassed I quickly left and (Y/N) followed me, out to this very garden and we stood in very spot. They kissed me, and told me that it was okay, and I asked them there and then if they would marry me.”

He twisted the wedding band on his finger.

“They teased me and kept putting off the answer, and I went to walk away thinking it was them rejecting me… I tripped again…”

“But they said yes.” Korra smiled.

“They did. But not before laughing at me first.” He chuckled.

Korra watched as his face turned to sadness.

“It was the best marriage I could’ve ever ask for… but they got sick… they tried to fight, to hold on but they wouldn’t do it anymore. They passed away in their sleep, they never got to watch our children grow up, they never saw the kingdoms grow closer.”

Korra couldn’t handle it anymore, she knew she shouldn’t do this, but she felt like she owed it to Zuko, for everything he’d done.

“Close your eyes.” She said softly.

Zuko did as he was told and she placed a hand on his head, whispering something she stepped away.

“I.. I don’t know how long it’ll last, but I hope this helps.”

She handed him the letter he gave her and stepped a few steps back, watching him open his eyes and he stared directly at you.

He smiled and you stood up, walking over to touch his face.

Maybe she was breaking a lot of rules, but Korra knew he was breaking inside without you, he’d been so alone without you for so long she wanted him to have some time with you, even if it was just a few minutes

#avatar the legend of korra #Zuko #Zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #Zuko imagine

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gucciwins · 2 years ago

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Can you please write one where harry and reader, who is apart of the love band, being together and they get married without the media and the fans finding out. So when he is introducing the band he introduces her as mrs. Styles and everyone freaks out?

a/n: hiii friends! it's been a while but I am here to share another story. originally this was supposed to be something short and sweet but here is 9k of a new story I hope you enjoy 💜💜💜

Harry had fallen in love with her from the moment he saw her though he can’t say the same for Y/N. He knew it was foolish to call it love when all he knew was her name. He fell in love with how she got lost on stage playing each song. It was something he wanted to never forget. When Jeff told Harry he was going to meet Y/N, he froze and almost decided to leave, but he knew he had to see her and hear her voice because if he didn’t, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

The reason Harry was here tonight at the Roxy was because he was forming his band. He was in the middle of writing an album, and Jeff thought she would be the perfect addition. Harry didn’t know then how meeting Y/N would change his life. Harry loved telling this story to anyone who asked how they first met. It’s one he’s said during the production of his first album endless times and during interviews.

He walked up to Y/N, smiling, but it dropped when she turned around, and his eyes caught the grin she was giving him. Instead, he dropped her gaze to rest on her collarbones, where a delicate pearl necklace rested. Harry knew he was admiring her necklace, but to everyone else, it looked like he was admiring her chest. Harry only realized when Jeff nudged him. Y/N didn’t say a word, only told Harry it was great to meet him and looked forward to hearing his music.

“There is no music yet,” he told her honestly.

“What is there?” She asks, looking at him curiously.

“Heart and soul,” he confesses.

“Well, Harry. I look forward to joining you in the studio if that’s alright.”

Harry quickly nods his head. “Tomorrow if you’d like.”

Y/N shares a look with Jeff, who only shrugs, “if that’s what you’d like.” She’s called away, and Harry knows he will be counting down the minutes until he sees her tomorrow. She leans close to him, and Harry relishes her sweet cherry smell. “Next time you want to stare at my boobs, maybe don’t make it so obvious.”

Harry pulls away, shocked, at a loss for words, unable to defend himself.

“See you, Harry.” She sends him a smile that makes him feel warm, and he tries his best to commit it to memory.

Jeff claps his shoulders, unable to contain his laughter, “man, you’re down bad.”

“I’m in love,” he breathes out.

“You’re insane. That’s what you are. No way Y/N will ever date you,” Jeff laughs, but Harry is determined.

Harry shakes his head, “I’ll be sure to remember that at our wedding, where you will not be invited.”

Safe to say, Harry had to work hard for her love, but he never regretted it. Not one single moment because it led him to be loved by her.

After that studio session, Harry had no shame in asking Y/N to join his team as a writer and guitarist. She told him she’d think about it, and with the fear that her answer would be no, Harry got on his knees and begged her to say yes. She couldn’t even hold in her laugh. “Jeff thought you’d do something like this, but I assured him you’d be professional.”

Harry laughs awkwardly on his knees, looking up at her. “Is that a yes?”

Y/N shakes her head at Harry’s antics. “Yes, Styles. I’ll join this team.” Harry gets up and hugs her tightly. “With one request,” she voices.

“Anything. Absolutely anything.” Harry promised. He would give her the moon or a million dollars if she wanted.

“Sarah Jones. She has to be brought on as your drummer.” Y/N sighs then, “I don’t know if she’d say yes, but you’d be a fool not to ask.”

And like that, Harry had three members in his band.

Mitch would be hired a week later.

From there, the four of them became the best of friends. While Harry was enraptured around Y/N, trying his best to spend time with her, he missed seeing the sparks fly around Sarah and Mitch. Harry was busy when they arrived from Jamaica, having no time for the band, which broke his heart. He loved seeing them and getting dinner with them but promoting a new album was no joke.

His new friend Mitch was living in his old flat. Mitch quickly got on with Harry’s friends, but soon enough, even they did not see him. It was then he found out how Mitch was always getting dinner with Sarah, and Y/N would join occasionally. Harry knew he was more than welcome, but with the single releasing soon and tour rehearsal starting, he knew he’d seen her more than enough.

They had been rehearsing for a few days when Y/N walked into the studio in tears. Harry quickly rushed over to her, leaving Jeff to speak to himself. He looked her over and found her unharmed, but he still took her in his arms, assuring her she was okay. Harry knew it was bad because she didn’t even push him away.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he kept repeating. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was more for him or her.

Y/N pushed him away after a few minutes. Sarah was beside her, slipping her hand around her waist to support her. “My guitar was stolen,” she mutters. “I-I-I went for coffee in the shop down the street, and when I returned, my window was smashed. They only took the guitar, nothing else,” Y/N cries.

Harry feels his heartbreak for Y/N. During a restless night in Jamaica, she shared how it was her grandfather’s guitar. He gave her lessons from a young age, and her mother hated it because she always had a new cut or callous. It was a big part of her childhood, and when Y/N shared she wanted to pursue music as a career, her grandfather was the first to support her. He gifted her the guitar knowing she would produce magic with it, and he wasn’t wrong. Y/N created beautiful melodies for his first album with that guitar, the Fender J Bass American Deluxe. The one her grandfather, played on his wedding day.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he voices, knowing this heartbreak is not something he can heal. Harry immediately sends a message to all the crew and friends in the area to see if they spot her missing guitar or see someone with her guitar case. Harry tells the band they’ll meet tomorrow instead, and she is quick to disagree, stating she can play, but he promises her it’s okay. “Jeff was telling me about this meeting I have to attend.”

Jeff nods, frowning at Y/N. The band gathers around Y/N, and they’re quick to have her laughing, promising to take her to lunch.

“Y/N, your car? Is it okay?” Harry asks, knowing it can’t be safe to drive with broken glass.

“Huh,” she turns to him, confused. “Oh, uh. I drove it here. The backseat is full of glass, and I didn’t even think of anything I needed to fix.”

Harry waves her off, “I know a guy. He can take it to the mechanic. I’ll make sure to have it dropped off at your flat.”

“Harry, I couldn’t–”

He cuts her off. “Please, it’s the least I can do.” Harry knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, but if he hadn’t scheduled a band practice, then her guitar wouldn’t have been in her car and therefore stolen. Sarah assures him she’ll get Y/N home.

Y/N walks out with the band all crowding around her, and Harry knows she’s in safe hands. It doesn’t hurt that he wishes he was the one comforting her, but it’s true he has business to take care of. She just doesn’t know it’s all for her.

After the hell of the day, she had Y/N went home and cried some more. It was well into the evening when she got a text from Harry that her car would be dropped off soon. She was thankful. He was kind enough to help her. She knows other bosses would be rude and awful, but not in this industry with Harry as her boss. She opens her door to find a young man with a key in one hand and a guitar case in the other.

“That mine?” She points at it, confused.

The young fellow shrugs, “you Y/N?”

She nods silently.

“Then it’s yours.”

Y/N takes it from him, bidding the man goodnight after checking her car was out front. She hurries inside, curious as to why they also sent a guitar. She opens it up and gasps. In the case is a yellow semi-hollow Epiphone Jack Casad. She told Harry this was a dream guitar she was saving up for during their first studio session. Her name is engraved on the top of the guitar in beautiful handwriting. Y/N is careful to pick it up and is mesmerized by how nice it is. To no surprise, it’s a perfect fit in her hands, as if it was made for he

Y/N

I know there is no replacing the guitar you lost, but I was having this one made for you as a thank you for creating this album with me. I couldn’t have done it without you. Hope we can continue to create music together, and if not, because you’re too talented to stick around with someone like me, I hope you take this gift as an appreciation for my love for you.

Love, H

Harry was thinking about her because she knows a guitar takes months to make. Y/N appreciated it more than he knew. Y/N would spend the night playing with the guitar until it felt like hers. When she showed up the next day with the guitar, no one dared to say a word, but between the looks Y/N and Harry shared, they all knew.

That note would be the first sign that Y/N picked up on that maybe, just maybe, Harry liked her as more than a friend.

The album was well received, and Harry was over the moon. The first shows were nerve-wracking, but having Y/N there calmed him. She gave him pep talks assuring him that the fans would love him, and love him they did. They screamed his songs back to him, and it was easy to get lost in the feeling of being on stage. Before he knew it, they were taking off on a sold-out tour across Europe and North America.

He had started writing his second album with the help of the team and Y/N. She brought a beautiful melody, and it’s how the start of “Sunflower” kicked off the first song on the track though it would undergo various changes. He loved being in the studio with Y/N because she brought these ideas and perspectives he had never thought of. She was the heart of the album. Touring and writing with Y/N was a dream come true.

Harry was having the time of his life, but Y/N still paid him no mind. She acted as if there was nothing between them, like there was no spark, which drove him crazy. Harry watched as Mitch and Sarah fell in love, and he wanted that. He craved it with Y/N, with only her. The fact that he couldn’t have her weighed heavy on him, and it got worse when he heard rumors of Y/N going on dates. It broke him because he loved her, and she only saw him as a friend. They spent every free moment together, so the fact that she didn’t share she was seeing someone hurt because, at the end of the day, he wanted to see her happy.

He wasn’t proud of what he did next.

There was woman after woman he brought to the show. Harry didn’t know what Y/N thought, but he slowly began to pull away, needing to get lost in someone else; even if it was for an hour, Y/N could consume his thoughts for the other 23 hours. Harry wanted her to want him, to miss him, so he began bailing on lunch with her, not including her in conversations. He thought she didn’t care because she had no response. She treated him the same with a friendly smile and easy conversation.

Harry didn’t notice the change in her because he was too focused on the new person he was bringing around. If he got his head out of his ass, he would have seen every sad look Y/N shot his way. Or how Sarah urged her to talk to him, but Y/N would walk away. He didn’t see that she was slowly pushing away from not only him but the band. That she thought her days were numbered.

It wasn’t until she fell sick that Jeff told her that her backup would be able to cover for her for however long she needed. That was all the confirmation she needed to know Harry was replacing her. It broke her, but it was his band, after all.

Harry was ready to perform, huddled in the circle with the band, when he looked across from him to find unfamiliar eyes. He looked around but saw every member of his band except for her. His heart rate increased, and Harry knew he had lost her.

Sarah met his gaze and took pity on him, “she’s sick.”

At that moment, Harry wanted to cancel the show and run to her side, ensuring she was alright, but he couldn’t. He was sure it was the worst show of his life, but he didn’t have time for Jeff or anyone to give him shit for it. When he was off the stage, he drove to their hotel and pounded on her hotel room door. Then suddenly stopped when he realized that wouldn’t help her.

The door creaked open, and there was Y/N with a red nose and sleepy eyes.

“Hi, petal,” he greets softly, knowing he has to tread carefully.

She rubbed her eyes as if trying to see if he was actually there. “Harry?”

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Y/N doesn’t respond. She steps back, opening the door wider. She locks it behind him and crawls back into bed. She tells him to stay away because he has a show tomorrow, and he knows she’s right, but he doesn’t care. He sits at the foot of her bed.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I’ve been better.”

Harry hates this lingering tension. “Sorry, you felt you couldn’t tell me.”

She shrugs, “Jeff didn’t want to get you sick.”

“You’ve never gone through, Jeff before,” he reminds her.

“That was before,” Y/N muttered.

Harry sulks, letting his shoulders drop in frustration. “What you goin’ on about?”

“The fact that I’m getting sacked,” she tells him, never one to beat around the bush.

“Sorry,” he can’t believe what she is saying. “I would never.”

She scoffs, clearly not believing him. “Don’t have to lie to me. Very convenient that your friend is my replacement tonight. We clearly know I’m replaceable.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” his voice firm. He had never seen her as replaceable. His heart breaks thinking about doing a tour without her. “You created this band. I wouldn’t be having the time of my life on stage if you weren’t there next to me. You’re my best friend.”

Y/N has turned away from him, and as much as he hates it, he respects her enough to let her be. “Some way to show it,” she murmurs.

Harry hates that her voice is so weak and timid around him. She’s never once taken his shit, but here he is on the verge of losing her. “I-I,” he sighs. “I’ve fucked up badly.”

“I get that you’re dating and such, but when you start acting like a dick and treating others like they’re beneath you, that’s when you know you’ve lost against the industry.” He lets her words sink in. “I feel like I’ve lost you.”

A direct hit to the heart.

“You did nothing wrong,” Harry assures her. Y/N motions for him to explain. “I was going through shit and felt selfish going to you for help. You’ve seen me through a lot, and I didn’t want to add more,” he lies. Harry is full of lies, but he can’t tell her he loves her. Not like this. “It was easier to get lost around others that don’t care about me.”

Y/N turns to look at him. Her tired eyes are locked with his, and he knows she’s trying to read him. That he’s an open book for her, he always has been. She won’t find anything at this moment because he knows he has to bury his love for her deep inside if he wants to keep her.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for icing you out. I’m sorry for not showing you I care. You’re always my number one since the moment you entered my life. I would never dream of kicking you out of your band. I will understand if you want to leave but know you will always have a spot here with me.

“Well fuck you first,” she tells him outright. “I’m not going anywhere. I just needed you to get your head out of your ass. Though if you ditch me for a groupie, I’ll cut off your dick.”

Harry shakes his head, not surprised at all by her words. This is his girl.

“Don’t worry, you’ll always be my favorite girl.”

Those words settle deep in Y/N’s heart. When Harry pulled away from her, Y/N swore she felt a crack in her heart because it was sinking in that she was losing him, but she didn’t understand why it hurt so much to be replaced.

It wasn’t until later that night after she kicked him out of her room to stay away until she felt better she received a basket of her favorite teas and snacks from home. Even a few books she had been eyeing but had not had the time to buy. It’s when Y/N began to realize that she was in love with him. Though she had no idea how he could feel, she did the only thing she could do. She packed those feelings in a box and moved on.

Real World Studio was a dream to work at, and it was even better because he had his friends with him. Harry usually could not keep his eyes off Y/N, but tonight he wished she was anywhere but here. After seeing her on a date last night, he was fuming, and he knew it was dumb to ignore her. It was impossible in the studio. Y/N had her guitar in her lap, and it was this beautiful melody someone could get lost in. Except, he wouldn’t take the time to give it a full listen.

“H, just give it a listen,” she pleads, knowing her song's potential.

Harry exhales, “nothing special, it doesn’t fit.”

Y/N feels her anger rise at his dismissal but decides better than to argue with him. She goes to the corner of the room, dropping her guitar, not wanting the memory of Harry for the moment, and picks up Mitch’s spare. She doesn’t notice when Mitch sits next to her. Too lost in her head, cursing Harry out.

“Y/N,” she looks up at him. “It’s good.” Having heard the song a few times, Mitch now plays it on his guitar, and Y/N can’t help the smile that takes over her face. Mitch’s talent is undeniable.

Harry perks up, calling out Mitch’s name to play that song again. “Come on, Mitch, again.”

Mitch grimaces, “H, it’s—”

“Again,” Harry requests.

Mitch does as he asks but only gets a few notes in when Y/N stomps over to him. She pushes him hard, causing him to stumble. The entire room falls silent. Harry feigns confusion, not knowing what he did wrong.

“You’re an arrogant son of a bitch,” she spits angrily. Y/N walks out of the studio with her head held, and Harry deflates, knowing he went too far.

“Man, what’s up with you? That’s—you have never treated any of us like that,” Sammy tells him, confused.

Harry throws his notebook across the room in frustration, “Y/N has a fucking boyfriend and hasn’t told me. Saw her having dinner last night.”

Mitch scoffs, “so that gives you permission to be a dick.”

Sammy laughs, Harry whips his head to look at him and is about to tell him to shut up when Sammy drops a bomb on him. “I went to dinner with her last night.” Harry feels his anger bubble. “I have this friend that wants to work with her.”

Harry backs down, shoulders slumping, “I’m a dick,” he agrees.

“Think you should go find her,”

“And say what?” He looks at them for answers.

“Sorry, is a good start,” Tyler offers.

Mitch shakes his head, “he can never admit he’s sorry or that he’s the jealous type.”

Harry walks out knowing they aren’t any help but knows he does have to apologize. Y/N doesn’t deserve how he treated her. The good thing Y/N didn’t go far; she’s sitting on the hood of her car staring at the night sky.

“Y/N,” he calls out to not startle her.

“Thought you’d come out sooner,” she sasses.

He exhales, “The boys were chewing me out.”

“Hmm…”

Harry stands before her, and regret is written all over his face. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I was an asshole for my own stupid reasons.”

“Okay,” she mutters.

He takes a step closer, his hands resting on her thighs. “I’m just a jealous son of a bitch and took it out on you. I’m sorry, you’re my favorite person, and that’s no excuse for treating you this way.”

She smirked, hearing him repeat her earlier words she screamed in the heat of her anger. “I put up with a lot of your crap.”

“And I’m grateful,” he promises her.

“Maybe too much,” she teases.

Harry knows she’s right. “Then don’t anymore.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he repeats.

“Leave then,” she waves him off, and something inside him snaps. Her words don’t hold malice, and he’s not leaving without her. They both know that.

He steps between her legs, not giving her any room to escape him. Y/N looks at him with wide eyes, uncertain of his next move. Harry pushes a few strands of her hair back. His eyes fall down to her lips and then move back up. Before he can convince himself otherwise, Harry leans in, pressing his lips against Y/N’s. He feels her tense up, but she melts into him within the next few seconds. He leads the kiss in a steady rhythm allowing himself to get to know what she likes. It feels like coming home, and he wonders how he went so long without tasting her. He knows one will never be enough; he wants more. Harry wants all her kisses.

Y/N pulls away breathless, one look at her face, and Harry knows she’s panicking. It’s settling in quick, but Harry has always been able to calm her, a special trick he’s learned for years of knowing her. His take will be slightly different tonight.

“Y/N I l–” Y/N stops him.

“Please,” she pleads. Begging him not to say it. Harry sighs, taking a step back.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he promises.

Harry walks her back to the hotel for the night with the promise of breakfast together. He hopes breakfast happens, but part of him knows it won’t happen. The following day he was informed she had checked out. All that was left was a note saying she was sorry and that she would call him soon. That same night he was on a flight to Japan.

After all, there’s an album to finish.

Two weeks in Japan weren’t enough to heal his heartbreak, but it was the perfect place to meet friends, try good food, and write new songs. He had written five new ones, and though he knew some might not make it to the album now, maybe they would for the next one.

His birthday had come along, and he spent it alone reading in a cafe. Harry got endless texts from his family wishing him a happy day, but there was one person he hoped would call. Except that she didn’t. Everyone told him to move on, but he wanted to grieve this love because Y/N wasn’t just anybody to him. She was the one. He’s willing to fight for her because he knows what it’s like to live without her and hates it. Harry misses her, but he’s also hurt.

It was early morning when there was a loud knock on his door. He stumbled out of bed in no rush to open his door. After a surprise party last night, he allowed himself to have one too many shots and now is paying the price for it. Y/N always reminded him to have some water and a Tylenol before bed on nights they went drinking.

Harry swung his door open, expecting to see Tom or Tyler but standing in front of him was Y/N. A timid smile was on her face, a large duffel hanging off her shoulder and a gift bag in her hand.

“Hi, Harry,” she broke the silence after a few seconds (minutes, he couldn’t be sure.) “I-I’m sorry to show up announced. Uh–Gems convinced me it would be a good idea.”

He has no idea why he’s here, and he can’t even ask her why she’s here because it seems he has lost the ability to speak. He never imagined her coming to Japan for him.

“I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for stopping you from saying something you probably have held in for a long time.” She pauses, looking around her, nervous someone could overhear her. That’s when Harry realizes they’re standing at his doorway.

Wordlessly he moves aside to let her in. Harry locks the door behind her as she drops her bag and presents by the door. Y/N takes her time slipping off her shoes. He can spot her hands shaking but doesn’t dare comment on it.

“Harry,” she says his name with so much love it gives him a glimmer of hope. “I love you,” she shouts.

Harry was not prepared for her confession. He wasn’t prepared for her. “And I think you love me?” She questions.

Harry doesn’t answer.

Y/N looks around the room nervously. This is not how she pictured the moment on the flight here. Sure, she wasn’t expecting the warmest greeting, but she also didn’t expect silence. Y/N was not sure how to go from here. Before she can begin to think about how bad of an idea this is, Harry takes a step forward; she doesn’t dare move away. He stops until there is no space between them.

There are two things he could tell her: one would make her the happiest person alive, and the other has the possibility of breaking her. Except, there’s a third option she wasn’t thinking about because Harry was never good with his words. He always thought actions speak louder than words, so he leaned in and kissed her. This kiss was soft and full of love, nothing like their first kiss. Harry was gentle with her, like if he was rougher, she’d break or disappear. Y/N lets herself fall into Harry as he explores her mouth, their mouths moving in perfect unison until he breaks away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Even then, he doesn’t move far away; he kisses every inch of her face until Y/N breaks into a fit of laughter due to the brush of his stubble on her skin, something he was letting grow during his time here.

“I love you,” Harry tells her. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, but it doesn’t feel like the first time, not when he’s loved her for years. “I have loved you from the very first day.”

Y/N slaps his shoulder playfully, “shut up, Harry.” She doesn’t believe him. Why would she? Y/N was a stranger, but the first time he saw her, Harry felt like he had arrived home. He was united with someone who had been missing from him all his life.

“Will never shut up,” Harry promises. “Not when I get to tell you I love you every day, every hour, every minute.”

“I’m sorry for the wait,” she holds his face in her hands, taking in his beautiful green eyes staring at her with so much love that she feels she might explode.

“You will always be worth the wait. Always, Y/N.”

December 13th had finally arrived.

“Are you really doing this?” Harry asks nervously on the chair next to her.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I told you I would.”

“Tattoos are forever,” he reminds her.

Mateo, her tattoo artist, places the stencil on her ribs as Harry checks in for the tenth time to see if she really wants to be tattooed. “The cherries on my ass are a good reminder I know what I’m doing.”

Harry sinks back in his chair, defeated. “It’s just this is permanent. These are my lyrics going into your skin forever.”

“Oi, give me some credit, would you? Worked on these songs with you. This one is special. I want it with me forever,” Y/N vows.

Today, his second album Fine Line was released for the world to hear. Every time he released music, he gave a bit of himself away from Lights up to Cherry; these were his stories on love, identity, and heartbreak. Harry knows he didn’t do it alone, but his fans don’t care for the process; they want the stories and meanings of each song. He won’t give them that, not now, not ever. Y/N, his guitar player and now also his girlfriend, was getting a tattoo in honor of the second album they have written together being released.

“I thought you’d get a sunflower tattooed or even a watermelon,” he smirks at the last suggestion.

Y/N scoffs, “you dirty-minded lover.”

“You love it,” he tells her.

She does. She really does. “Doesn’t matter. I love you. I want to know that no matter what, we’ll be alright. I would go through hell and back for you, so what better way than to get those words that mean so much to me.”

Harry knows there’s no chance she’s leaving without the tattoo, so he relents letting Mateo begin. “I love you.” And that’s enough for now. It seems he will have to get a new tattoo for her seeing as she’d have his handwriting etched in her skin forever.

He was going crazy and set to go on stage in twenty minutes, yet no one could find Y/N. Harry had called her again and again, yet no answer. He knew she hadn’t left the venue, but somehow everyone on staff could not find her. It wasn’t until he found Y/N in a small green room sitting with his special guest of the night, Stevie Nicks. They were lost in conversation and didn’t even hear him come in.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, relieved. He shoots a text to Jeff that he found her.

Y/N grins up at him, and simple as that, all his worry evaporates. “Hi, pretty.”

To no surprise, Harry’s face heats up at the compliment. “Poppet went crazy searching for you.”

Stevie stands up, “oh, that’s my fault. I just had to steal her away. It’s been some time since we’ve been able to catch up. Nice to know you took my advice.”

“Actually, Stevie–” Y/N begins, but Harry interrupts her.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We’ve got to get Y/N ready to stage soon.” Harry pushes her towards the door.

Y/N makes a show of rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically. “Bye, Stevie, always an honor.”

Harry promises Stevie to see her soon, all while Y/N mutters how she can’t believe he embarrassed her in front of Stevie Nicks. He knows she’s joking but never makes anything easy for him.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm…”

“I love you,” and like magic, she melts into him, allowing him to take her towards his dressing room as he grabs her in-ears and prepares her to head out on stage.

“Love you, Harry. Proud of you. It’s your big day.” She’s been telling him all week, from listening parties to the Spotify event to last night at 9pm when the album dropped on the West Coast to this very moment.

“Our, our special day,” he reminds her.

Y/N waves him off, “your album. I’m just the guitar player.”

Harry won’t have that. He approaches Y/N, gently lifting her face to look at him. She’s staring at him with those glimmering eyes full of love. “You’re the muse of this album, but you’re also the co-writer. You play a killer solo in She that Mitch is begging for you to let him play. This album is ours, but it is also entirely yours. I am entirely yours.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Ours,” she repeats.

It ends up being a perfect night. A show they’ll go on to share with friends, family, and future generations for years to come.

Gearing up for tour after a successful album had everyone buzzing, except everything came to a halt because of a pandemic affecting the entire world. Everyone was taking the needed precautions to keep the safety of others in mind. Harry and Y/N decided to stay with Mitch and Sarah because it was better to be with others during this challenging time.

As awful as everything was in the world, Harry was grateful for the time to flourish his relationship with Y/N.

It gave them a chance to fall more in love with each other. He learned all her childhood stories, and she learned that he was an early riser and liked his coffee dark. They used this time to write an album full of love, longing, and heartbreak. It was their love story in the strangest of ways. He knew the album might not be well received, but he loved it. Most importantly, Y/N loved it, and that’s all that mattered.

They stayed in California with friends for nearly a year until it was safe to fly home. It was then that they knew they would have to split a way to stay with family. Harry was not ready to let her go, not when he had her for all this time. Instead, he followed along to where she called home. Her baby sister was overjoyed to have Y/N home. Lila got to show Y/N all the knitting supplies she had gotten. Even all the plushies she made Y/N because they reminded Lila of her. (The bunny was his favorite, he got to keep it because he asked nicely.) Harry would never forget meeting Lila for the first time, seven years old, and worshiping the ground Y/N walked on. He understood the feeling very well. Y/N had brought her along for a rehearsal and, by the end of the day, had a meltdown because Harry mentioned them leaving for months. Lila begged Y/N not to go, to quit saying that she’d be able to take care of her if she stayed. Harry saw Y/N’s heartbreak and was tempted to step in, but he knew it wasn’t his place.

“I hate you,” the young girl whispered when Y/N rushed off to get tissues. His heart broke knowing he was the reason she was hurting so much. “Fire her, fire my sister,” she pleaded.

Y/N returned with sympathy in her eyes, and Harry knew nothing he could say would make her feel better. “Poppet, you know those are harsh words. We don’t say them unless we mean them.”

“I do. I mean it,” Lila sniffled.

Y/N shook her head, wiping her younger sister’s tears away. “No, you don’t. You know how I know?” Lila shook her head. “Because you’ve got the biggest heart in the entire world. I know there is no way you can hold any darkness in there.”

Lila wraps her arms around Y/N’s neck, and Harry knows he should leave and give them space, but he’s in awe at how well Y/N is validating her sister’s feelings. There’s no telling her to stop crying, only trying to make her understand.

“I’m leaving, poppet. It’s my dream,” Y/N whispered. “I told you stories about being on stage that it’s my second favorite thing to do.”

“First is painting with me?” Lila questions.

Y/N laughs, “you know it.”

“Okay,” Lila hides her face in Y/N’s neck. “I love you.”

Y/N kissed her sister’s cheek. “I love you too.” They squeeze each other tight, relishing in being together. “Now I think you owe someone an apology.”

Lila sighed but did as Y/N requested. She walked towards Harry with Y/N standing behind her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. You have to promise to care for her. She loves tea in the morning with lemon poppy muffins.” Lila shares making Harry and Y/N laugh. He keeps a mental note to make sure it’s always available for her during tours and meetings.

Harry kneels down to be at Lila’s level, knowing it will make them at an even level. “I promise to look after her. If you ever need her home, all you have to do is call, and I’ll have her on the first flight back to you.”

Lila's eyes widen in surprise, “you can do that?”

“I’m the boss,” he whispers.

Y/N rolls her eyes at him, but mouths thank you.

Harry kept true to his word, there was only one time when Lila called, and that’s all Y/N needed to say for him to assure her that it was okay to go. He went as far as buying her a first-class plane ticket. Lila fell, broke her arm, and needed her sister home. She was gone for five days, the longest days of his life, but when she returned, Y/N gave him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. It’s something he will never forget.

Now at twelve years old, Lila “tolerated” Harry. Y/N told him Lila was joking, but a part of him knew it was true he had taken her favorite person away. Harry knew he’d be heartbroken having Y/N leave him and hated that he made Lila experience that time and time again.

“You break her heart, Harry, and I break you,” she threatened with her fist in the air.

“Woah, there, Rambo. No need to defend my honor,” Y/N giggled. “Just because you’re doing kickboxing classes doesn’t mean you need to go punching anyone.”

“I will if he makes you cry,” Lila tells her while keeping her eyes on Harry.

He found this amazing because Harry was the younger sibling. He knew what it was like wanting to defend his older sister, not that she ever let him. He knew Gemma didn’t need protecting. “If anyone will do any crying, it’s Harry,” Y/N tells her sister. Y/N winks at him before turning her attention back to Lila. “He cries at The Lion King.”

“He does?” Lila says in disbelief.

Harry scoffs playfully, “that was a secret.”

Lila steps forward and taps his hand twice in what he assumes is her way of showing sympathy. “There, there. I understand. Scar is the worst villain. Let’s watch it now.”

She pulls him away as Y/N mouths for him to remember to cry. Harry knew Y/N wanted her favorite people to get along, and if he had to cry during Mufasa’s death to get on a young girl’s good side, then so be it. Harry knows he would do anything for Y/N.

After a few months with Y/N’s family, they traveled to his family. When his mum saw him, she burst into tears and did not let him go for over ten minutes. Y/N got reacquainted with the cats then it was her turn for a long cuddle. His mother was in good hands, but returning home always made him realize how much he has missed.

“Gems has gotten into a puzzle,” Anne shares as she serves them.

Harry laughs, “not surprised.”

“H got really good at poker,” Y/N chimes in.”

“And you miss paint by number,” he teases.

Anne smiled fondly, seeing them tease each other as she took in the love clearly displayed on his face. “I can’t believe you’ve filmed movies.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “oh, Anne, he’s such a drama queen. Oh, that’s not what I ordered. It was a green smoothie, not pink,” Y/N mimics his accent awfully, making Anne burst out laughing.

“Mum, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

Anne shrugs, “she’s always been my favorite.”

Y/N sticks her tongue at him, happy to return to conversing with Anne. Harry knew his mum was right; she had always been his favorite too.

With filming complete and the world a bit safer. It was time to get back on the road. Harry had a completed album that he was not ready to share yet. He wanted to enjoy singing songs from Fine Line before adding more to his setlist. Prepping for this tour, there were many new changes. For one, he hired Pauli Lovegood as his musical director, and the band had never sounded better.

Harry was not surprised to see how well Pauli and Y/N got on. They were two people who instantly clicked when first meeting. Harry had many conversations with Pauli about the band and the chemistry and trust he liked to have on stage. Pauli stated that Y/N was the heart of the band and didn’t even realize it. Harry knew every time he got on stage because she kept him calm and safe each night. Sure, everyone raved about Sarah calling it Sarah’s band, and he didn’t doubt it for a second, but there was a special energy Y/N brought that no one was able to replicate.

“Y/N goes out on stage every night like it might be her last,” Pauli shared after a rehearsal. They just didn’t realize Y/N was behind him listening.

“Is that a bad thing?” Y/N asks.

Pauli shakes their head. “Not at all. It makes your performance special.” He points back to the stage. “Because that was sound check. You played as if the crowd was already here.”

Y/N ducks her head, flustered, not realizing that Pauli was complimenting her.

“Does that mean he won't ever fire me?” Y/N laughs, knowing it’s a dumb question.

Harry swings his hand over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “I’d be an idiot to let you go. You know the only reason you’ll leave this job is if you decide that.”

His words are true. Y/N has had many opportunities and offers to join another band or become a songwriter working with different artists, but it’s not what she wants.

During the tour, Y/N and Harry celebrate two years of dating. It’s a significant milestone for both of them because they had always had a slight fear of commitment, but together forever doesn’t seem long enough. It’s a cold day in November for Los Angeles, but Y/N doesn’t seem to mind since she dragged Harry to Malibu beach with her.

They held hands as they walked down the shore, seagulls flying high and the beach vacant. No one is brave enough to visit the ocean during this cold season. Y/N had told him that water calms her; it reminds her there is so much more to life, and though she might never have the chance to learn about it, the world keeps turning.

“We’re almost going home,” Harry comments.

Home is London, in her small flat, while Harry goes to his large mansion. There are small details they have to work through, seeing as during this entire tour, they have never slept apart, even when Harry manages to push her buttons.

“I’m excited to see Lila,” Y/N tells Harry. She talked to her sister as much as possible, but time zones made it difficult. “She’s grown two more inches, mum said.”

Harry kisses her temple, there is so much they sacrifice for the life they live, but he wouldn’t change it for the world because it led him to Y/N.

“Soon, you’ll see her soon,” he promises. Little does she know that in a few days, time in New York, Y/N will be hugging her sister, and Harry will happily share her because nothing makes him happier than seeing her happy. “I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N nudges his shoulder playfully, “alright, you sap. I love you too. Come on, I'm getting hungry.”

Harry stops walking. She doesn't notice until he has let go of her hand. She looks back at him confused but finds him kneeling on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand. Y/N doesn’t give him a chance to open it when she’s jumping on him, knocking him back into the sand. She’s crying against his chest, whispering yes over and over again.

He laughs, “I haven’t even asked, love.”

She sniffles, “what are you waiting for?”

Harry sits up, but Y/N doesn’t move from her place on his lap, sandy ring box back in his hand. He knows her answer, but his nerves are back, making his hands shake. Y/N notices and grabs his hands, pulling them to her chest. “Y/N, meeting you in 2015, I knew you were special. From our first conversation, I knew I could fall in love with you, and fall I did. It seems I’m still falling even now. You’re the reason the sun rises every morning and why the moon shines bright at night. You’re the reason why I wake up with a smile every day. You make the hard times bearable and the good times memorable. Y/N Y/LN, will you do me the biggest honor and marry me?”

Y/N has endless tears running down her face, but her smile is bright. “Yes, Harry. I will marry you. Forever with you is all I want.”

Harry leans in and kisses his fiancé.

His fiancé.

Y/N is his fiancé.

Anthony and a few friends gather somewhere in the distance, taking photos and videos for them. Y/N lets herself get lost in the feeling of his lips against hers. It’s slow and passionate. They are pouring every ounce of love into each other. This is the start of forever.

“We’re getting married,” she laughs against his lips.

“We are. Today, tomorrow, in a month, a year. Whenever you want, I will marry you,” Harry promises her. He hopes it’s sooner rather than later.

“Let’s go home. I want to celebrate.”

Their family could wait on the news. Tonight was all theirs.

On April 29th, 2022, Harry married the love of his life in a private villa in Italy with their closest friends and family. It was the perfect day, the sun shining bright, and the Amalfi ocean gave them a wonderful breeze.

“Today’s the day,” he whispered as Y/N sat in his lap out on the balcony of their room. Everyone told them it was bad luck to see each other before the wedding, but Y/N didn’t believe in superstitions, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to say goodnight to her after their rehearsal dinner.

Y/N sighs, leaning back into him. “Feels like I’ve been waiting for you all my life.”

Harry laughs, “I think I did all the waiting.” From the start, he always thought she’d never see him as anything more, but he is hours away from making her his wife.

“Mhm…you’re right. Sorry for the wait.”

Harry kisses her exposed shoulder. “I’d wait forever for you, my heart.”

Y/N turns, taking in his expressions. Glimmering eyes and a shining smile, he was about to become her husband. “Let’s go get married, Mr. Styles.”

“After you, Mrs. Styles.”

Mr. and Mrs. Styles, it was music to his ears.

After getting married with Sarah as their officiant, and Lila as their flower girl, they had a beautiful reception. There were speeches from Jeff quoting that Harry knew he would marry Y/N from the minute he set eyes on her to Y/N’s mum, Roslyn entrusting Harry to make her little girl happy for the rest of their life. Even Lila got up to the microphone making Harry promise to share Y/N with her still because she was her’s first. Harry assured the young girl he'd do anything Lila asked of him if it made Y/N happy. It was the most beautiful day, one he would never forget.

They went on a month-long honeymoon and returned blissfully happy, ready to perform to thousands of people each night.

The tour began in Glasgow. A sold-out stadium all for him. Harry was ready to share the stage with his wife and best friends. He was prepared to go out and have the time of his life with his fans, but he could not stop crying. Y/N tried her best to comfort him and was doing well, but she was buzzing, wanting to take it all in. He had done this many years ago with four other boys, his brothers. Harry was okay never doing anything at that level again, but here he was about to play his first stadium of many in Europe.

“Y/N does not want to leave the stage,” Luis rushes in, exhausted, knowing it’s a bit of a walk from the dressing room to the stage.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. She told him she loved the stage and didn’t want to be elsewhere. He didn’t really believe her, but Y/N kept true to her words.

“Let’s go get her.”

It turns out Harry had to carry her out. He threw her over his shoulder as she screamed to let her stay. They knew it wasn’t possible with fans about to be let in and the opener set to perform in a few hours. Harry was happy to share these moments with her.

They were preparing for their third sold-out night in Wembley, and Harry was happy because he and Y/N had many friends and family coming out to support them. Harry knows that through the years, the audience has come to love his band, also known as the “Love Band,” while Mitch and Sarah were crowd favorites, and Pauli’s dance move always had the fans screaming it was Y/N who managed to steal everyone’s hearts. She didn’t have to try hard. Y/N had that charm about her, from smiling at fans who locked eyes with her to signs made for her to pose for a fan's camera and especially when she handed out guitar picks at the end of the night. Y/N loved walking down the side to reach the middle, and Harry got to see how each interaction she had with a fan only made her shine brighter.

Today was different; Y/N and Harry sang together during soundcheck. Lila was there and begged for Y/N to sing, then two sisters with similar pouts stared at him, begging him to say yes. There was no telling them no, and Harry sang Sweet Creature with his wife to a young girl who could not stop smiling. Harry was thankful to have Anthony here capturing everything because he knew he wanted to remember this for years to come.

“I’m pretty sure fans heard us,” Y/N tells him as she plays with her ears.

Harry shrugs, “they’ve never heard you sing before.”

“Heyy,” she frowns. “Be nice to your wife.”

He smirks. He will never get tired of hearing that. “My dear wife, I apologize for hurting your feelings. Will you forgive me?”

She taps her lips twice, “kiss?”

He leans in, happy to comply with her wishes. She hums against his lips. Harry is tempted to take it farther but knows there is no time for that now.

“Love you, Y/N. Thank you for sharing the stage with me,” he whispers, feeling overwhelmed.

Y/N grins, “thanks for paying me the big bucks to be here,” she teases.

Harry groans, giving her a loving tap on her butt. “You’re a menace.”

“Yeah, but you love me,” she sing-songs.

“I do. I always will.”

He doesn’t know where life will take him and Y/N, but he knows it will all be alright as long as they are together.

A year ago, he played at Wembley stadium and was freshly married. Now he has celebrated his first anniversary and was back to play four sold-out nights. Harry’s House is out to the world and has received so much love from fans to the Grammys. He remembers winning album of the year, the most prestigious award of the night, and how tempted, he was to kiss Y/N there because this album is a love letter to each other. The new album gifted him so much, but there will be nothing better to Harry than sharing the stage with Y/N as he sings songs they wrote together.

“Wembley, the last time I was here wasn’t long ago, but things have changed in my life.” A dramatic pause. “For the better,” he assures the audience. “Thank you for having me back. Now let’s dance.”

The night moves on with Harry coming to bother Y/N more than ever, but she doesn’t mind. She gives it right back before sending him off to bother Mitch, who stays stoic, not letting Harry’s antics bother him. “Now, Wembley, you have been the most amazing crowd tonight.” The screams get louder as they listen to him talk. “But I couldn’t have done this alone.”

Harry introduces the band, going through everyone, purposely skipping Y/N. The band looked around, confused, but Y/N did not take her eyes off Harry, who was stepping closer to her. “Now you all know and love her, give it up for Y/N Styles!” Harry kneels down on a knee gesturing to Y/N.

Y/N smirks as the crowd falls silent, taking in the confession Harry dropped on them. The cameras pan over to her, and she gives a wave with her right hand, her left stays resting on her guitar where she’s sure the fans can see the engagement ring and wedding ring resting on her fourth finger, no longer on a chain around her neck but on display for everyone to see. Harry talked to her about the plan earlier in the day and decided to wear it to show it off.

After a moment, the fans seemed to have processed his words and began to scream and cheer. It’s louder and overwhelming, but Y/N takes it in stride as Harry laughs, looking out at the crowd. Harry brings his microphone up to speak, but the screams get even louder. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief, unable to understand if it’s excitement or shock.

“Sorry,” Harry giggles into the microphone. “I know her as Y/N Styles. Give it up for Y/N Y/LN. But please address her as Y/N Styles. The paperwork was endless,” he jokes to the audience of 90,000.

Sarah gives Y/N a crazed look, but Y/N shrugs. It was bound to come out, but she was glad they had the power to choose how and when. No better place than on stage doing what they both love.

“Alright, alright,” Harry begins trying to settle the cheers, but they are not stopping. It’s been going on for minutes, and Y/N’s just taking it all in, loving the support they are receiving. “Thought you came here for me,” he tries.

Y/N laughs into her microphone, making Harry look at her with a fake pout. “Oh, enjoy this, Y/N. You’re fired.”

She rolls her eyes, knowing he’s joking. The entire band knows he wouldn’t dream of doing this every night without her.

“Do you want a song?” Harry asks his crazed fans.

“Together?” Y/N asks into the microphone. The fans have no idea how to react anymore. This show will be going down in history; that’s all Y/N knows.

She steps close to Harry, who welcomes her in a hug, careful with her guitar.

“Which one, love?” Harry inquires, even though he already knows the song she will pick.

Y/N flashes him a pearled smile, “love of my life.”

Harry looks out at the audience and then turns back to Y/N. He takes her ring hand and kisses her wedding band. “Seems only fitting.”

liked by mitchrowland, harrystyles, and 233,804 others

pillowpersonpp she’s a rockstar and a wife

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yourinstagram I LOVE YOU! Thank you for marrying us

pillowpersonpp its the least i could do since you're the reason i met my husband

harryfan1 pause…i did not know this

harryfan2 i would marry her too

mitchrowland the best guitarist!

harryfan3 I love her friendship with y/n

liked by yelyahwilliams, harrystyles and 4,534,266 others

yourinstagram officially the better styles

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annetwist a wonderful addition to the family

gemmastyles you know what…you’re absolutely right.

_basselin oh my friend! Lovely photos 💗

fan1 wedding photos dropping! pray for me

fan2 the most beautiful couple congrats

fan3 rockstar marries rockstar

harryfan I really thought he was never going to marry 😭

liked by anthonypham, harrystyles, and 322,456 others

lloyddddddddddddddddd the (not so) newley weds 🤍

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annetwist I have these framed at home

anthonypham had the absolute joy of capturing our friends wedding with you

yourinstagram forever grateful! h and i love you boys

yourinstagram 🫶

harrystyles thank you for capturing our special day

jefezoff they really spent the entire day in their own bubble

fan1 STOPPPPPP he shot the wedding! Oh i'm so jealous

liked by niallhoran, shaniatwain, and 9,672,655 others

harrystyles every moment on stage is special when i get to share it with you, my heart

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glenne_azoff the prettiest girl!

yourinstgram i love you! thanks for falling in love with me back in 2015, baby

harrystyles thank you for joining my band in 2015

paulithepsm y/n the heart of the band

jefezoff I'll take credit for introducing you to y/n by you naming your first born after me

harrystyles fuck off

liked by fan1, fan2, and 42,333 others

lovebandupdates HARRY AND Y/N SINGING LOML AT WEMBLEY AFTER ANNOUNCING THEIR MARRIAGE

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fan1 all i can do is cry

fan2 it really is the love band *cries*

fan3 how long do we think he’s been married

fan4 I was there tonight 😭😭😭 harry is so in love

fan1 spill babes spill

fan4 okay so they sing right and it's the most perfect duet. y/n has a perfect voice that fits harry's perfectly. the song finishes and harry holds her in an embrace for a long time. they come back out and harry has a new ring on his left hand but he basically spends the last of the show kissing her cheek and dancing with her. harry is so in and y/n looks at him with so much love in her eyes. a perfect match

fan3 why you got to say all that. 🥺😭 I am never recovering from this

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles story #harry styes writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry writing #harry fluff #harry angst #harry story #harry fic rec #harry styles fic rec #harry one shot #harry styles one shot #harry styles love on tour #harrys house #harry styles x y/n #harry smut

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