#the dawns here are quiet

[guslar]

OH WOMEN! // the dawns here are quiet, 1972. directed by stanislav rostotsky

[straight-to-the-pain]

I watched ‘the dawn here are quiet’ and cried like a **** 😭😭😭😭

It’s so sad right?? But it’s also really good. I’ve seen both the original and the remake now and the original has some truly bizarre like backstory cinematography but I honestly really like both and I think they’re both very similar and the remake is genuinely quite faithful to the original. Though I haven’t read the story it’s based on so I can’t comment on that. But can recommend as a film, especially if you want to see women in uniform get to be human but also very cool and fight Nazis

[niteshade925]

I believe this was the theme song of the movie The Dawns Here Are Quiet (1972)? (actually idk, this band is apparently younger than the movie by almost 2 decades, so maybe this song is a tribute of some sort) A great song, I like it. I haven't seen the movie though but I heard it's pretty good (it was nominated for best foreign language film in the same year). I'm not exactly a war film person though

[i-have-made-a-flat-thing]

This show made me cry like nobody's business - I just sat on the sofa with my earphones and tablet, openly weeping. I've cried at films and television since, but I hadn't really before this and I think it changed me into a person who cries sometimes at TV. Not often, but sometimes

А Зори Здесь Тихие - The Dawns Here Are Quiet (2015)

They were just five girls. And they didn’t let you pass.

[queenofbaws]

Hello, dearest queenie! I hope this fine spring is treating you well! Could I trouble you for a fresh helping of Chris whump?

The lodge was already in sight - it was right there! - and all he had to do was...

A flash of movement, almost too fast for his eye to catch, and then it was leaping for him, the horrible thing, the unspeakable thing, the creature that had swooped on them from the roof of the shed; it was in the air, its fingers splayed and reaching, every inch of it made of muscle and steel and sinew and hate, and so he didn't even think, he just reacted.

The stranger's gun was awkward in his hands, but all that time at the range with Josh and his Dad must've actually paid off, because when he pulled the trigger, the bullet went where he'd meant for it to go. The stack of gas canisters by the old barbecue exploded, sending the creature screaming back into the shadows of the tree line...and sending him flat on his ass, his ears ringing and his face burning, the snow that caught his fall doing very little to alleviate the heat. The burning turned to stinging, the stinging to pain, the pain to crisping, and it occurred to him (distantly, softened only by the surreal nature of it all) that the smell choking the breath from him was some of his own hair being singed; his own skin being roasted.

But no sooner had the realization hit him than there were hands on him, yanking him back to his shaking legs with a strength he hadn't expected; "At least have enough dignity to die in the fucking house, wouldya?" the stranger snapped, dragging him as if he were nothing, and that was all Chris remembered before the pain overtook him completely and the world faded to a red-brown smear.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[malachitezmeyka]

No wait I'm actually not done talking about how The Dawns Here Are Quiet (1972) fucking broke me and I need to rant about it a bit more

Just.. the concept in general? One senior sergeant and 5 young girls barely out of school, the oldest of them only 20, having to hold off 16 German paratroopers? Knowing how low the odds of success are and yet understanding that they have to do it anyway? Being overcome with fear and hopelessness but keeping at it because you have a duty to your homeland? How fucking terrifying that would be?

And then, the girls dying off one by one. Liza, sent to warn the rest of the troop of the germans, dying in a swamp as she wasn't careful in where she was stepping, all because she was rushing to get there as fast as possible to hopefully save the lives of the other girls. But her death being in vain, because Sonya was stabbed and Galya was shot before her demise was even discovered. Only two girls and Vaskov the sergeant left, not even having the chance to mourn the fallen because the germans are still there. The sergeant ordering the girls to retreat because he wants at least them to survive. Them disobeying, remaining in those woods until the end. Some of the germans were dead too, but at what cost?

The absolute fucking tragedy of what happens next, Rita being wounded by grenade shrapnel causing Zhenya to go off with nothing but a rifle, singing at the top of her lungs as she runs through the woods to get the germans to follow her away from her friend. But of course she could never survive doing that for long and is killed. Vaskov finding her and telling Rita, who understands that with the rest dead and her wounded only Vaskov can face the Germans but he refuses to leave her, so she asks him to look after her little boy and kills herself

Vaskov burying the girls and finding the germans, shooting some, screaming at the remaining that they were facing only five young girls and still weren't able to pass by them, and now he will kill all of them himself and that he doesn't care if he will be judged for it because he will avenge the girls he was supposed to protect

The epilogue, thirty years after the war ended, showing Vaskov and Rita's son, who he adopted just as asked, placing a memorial plaque in those same mountainous woods of Karelia and being discovered by a group of campers the same age as those girls were, all their joy and laughter immediately fading as they stand in respect and mourning too for the girls they weren't even alive at the same time with but who were part of the reason they can now spend their youth camping and having fun instead of fighting on the front lines

And that's only the plot, if I started talking about the symbolism and cinematography too I would be here typing all day. But I will mention the genius decision to make the entire movie in black and white except for the 'modern day' scenes of the campers and Vaskov hallucinating the girls after their deaths as he mourns, as he threatens the germans, and as Rita's son places the memorial. Genius, I tell you

Just... The Dawns Here Are Quiet (1972). That's it that's the post.

[tryyda]

the indomitable human spirit this aliens that. read "the dawns are quiet here". or watch it. that's the indomitable human spirit.

[dawnslight-aegis]

💙 for Kaede/Aymeric, 🧡 for Marzstinien, 💗 for Daava/Zaya

i'll get to the other babes in a bit but here's drunk smooching kaedemeric since it got a little out of hand length-wise. set during the party after ala mhigo's liberation, which kaede did NOT skip, because that's stupid and I make my own rules when canon disappoints me.

💙 drunken kiss / tipsy

Aymeric made his way through the crowds of soldiers that had crammed themselves into Ala Mhigo’s palace, the air filled with the sounds of triumph and merry-making, as the Eorzean Alliance celebrated their first true victory since Ishgard’s return to the fold. Tomorrow there would be a great deal of work to keep the land that they had clawed back from the Garleans, but tonight? Tonight was for celebration. A homecoming for some, and proof of their unity to many others.

A patchwork sea of Maelstrom red, Adder yellow, Flame blue, and Temple Knight steel spread out before him, the smaller clusters of Doman and Xaela colors standing out sharply, and the Ala Mhigan resistance at the center, unmissable in their boisterous waving of purple griffin standards, long kept in storage. ‘Twas towards this beating heart of the excitement that he wended his way, directed by an amused-but-understanding Scion sorceress who had taken pity on his poorly-concealed disappointment at not finding his Warrior of Light among their number.

Bodies swirled and pressed around him, but for once since stepping into the heat of the Gyr Abanian desert, he was glad of his armor. Between the sharp edges of his pauldrons and the brilliant blue of his surcoat, he stood out enough that it saved him from the worst of the jostling, as it often had at galas and soirees at home.

As he finally broke through the crowd, he found himself on the edge of an imprompto dance floor in front of the Ala Mhigan throne, voices raised around him in song. At first, he thought he had finally found what he sought, but the glimpse of golden scales he’d caught from the corner of his eye resolved itself into an older woman with black braided hair, rather than gold, partnered with a large highlander man: Kaede’s mother and stepfather, but the hero of the hour herself was nowhere to be seen.

An impact against his right side nearly drove him off balance, and instinctively he reached down to steady the red-clad figure that had barreled into him, while taking a quick step back to establish a polite distance between them. A bright crimson hat, sharply tapered and plumed with a snowy white griffin feather, tilted up as the person – woman? – followed him, one gloved hand reaching up to snag the collar of his armor and tug him down.

Only the close confines and the etiquette drummed into his brain from childhood – that no matter how improper her behavior, ‘twas not permissible to shove a lady away from one’s person and flee into the crowds, even if he really, really wanted to – that kept him from creating even more distance between them before he caught sight of the bright blue eyes in the shadow of the hat. Startled, he blinked as Kaede beamed up at him with a triumphant, “found you!” before rising up on her toes and crushing a messy but enthusiastic kiss against his lips.

Very briefly, his mother’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, cautioning him towards discretion and propriety, but he ignored it in favor of the novelty of having a very warm, eager woman in his arms, somewhere other than the privacy of his own home.

A woman who, if the scent of honey and the lack of restraint in her demeanor was any indication, was luminously, incandescently drunk.

Aymeric wrapped an arm around her midsection, bare fingertips resting on the lacing at the back of her doublet, his other hand brushing against the scales of her cheek as he uncurled himself enough to look her in the eye, despite her obvious disappointment at his strategic withdrawal. Bemused, he stared down at the uncharacteristically ruffled object of his affections, clad head-to-toe in a color he had never once seen her wear. If Kaede was normally cool, crystalline ice that refracted the light that shone from within, this version of her was all untamed heat and flame, her reserve melted away by joy and spirits.

He had seen her tipsy before, wine delightfully blunting the edge of her inhibitions, but never like this. It made him wonder if there were yet other facets of her that he had yet to appreciate in full, and he longed desperately for the chance to find out.

A fond smile curved his lips as he stared down at her. “So you have. Were you searching long?”

She shook her head, her hat listing perilously atop her golden curls. “Not long. Yer easy t’ find. Very blue.”

Aymeric blinked in surprise at the stronger touch of Limsan brogue that she normally kept to the very edges of her speech, then laughed as she patted his coat with a mock-serious face that swiftly dissolved into giggles.

He caught her gloved hand in his and brushed a kiss across the back of it. “As you are very red tonight, my lady.”

She held the corner of her coat with her free hand as she dipped a perfect curtsy, some remnant of her normal poise holding valiantly against the alcohol in her veins. “The attire of a Crimson Duelist, m’lord. Ala Mhigo’s own mage knights. Seemed fitting, even if the color isn’t particularly t’ my liking.”

“Well, you look lovely, regardless,” he murmured with a smile, and the answering warmth in her gaze held a promise that warmed his blood as well as any honey wine would have – but for the second time in less than a quarter bell, a small, feminine form collided with his side.

He glanced over, and had he been drinking, might have been convinced he was seeing double – but the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, scarlet-clad woman to his side he quickly identified as Lyse Hext, erstwhile Scion and one of the leaders of the Ala Mhigan resistance. She stepped back and patted his arm with a “sorry ‘bout that, Lord Commander,” and then looped both of her arms around Kaede’s free one, tugging back towards the dance floor as the minstrels led into a new, more energetic tune.

“C’mon, you owe me one, and I know you know how this one goes, I asked your parents already. Ishgard can have you some other night, tonight is for Ala Mhigo!”

A few nearby nearby soldiers drunkenly took up the cheer, and suddenly the air was filled with calls of “for Ala Mhigo!” that covered Kaede’s response as she nodded in acquiescence.

With one of her hands held between Lyse’s, she freed her other from his grip and tugged him by the back of his neck into another kiss, not lingering as she had, but hard and sharp and fast, leaving him feeling a bit breathless by the time she released him. Mischief sparkling in her eyes, she reached up and caught her hat as it finally fell free from her head, planting it squarely atop his, instead. “Be back soon, darlin’. Hold on t’ this for me, would ye?”

With the scintillant sound of her laughter yet ringing in his ears, he watched her dance, his heart fair aching with the rare delight of seeing her so incredibly, unabashedly happy.

‘Twas not every day he could aid in the liberation of part of her family’s homeland, but when he returned home, he’d at least have to see that his cellar was stocked with a few bottles of O’Ghomorran mead.

[manoasha]

Echoes of a Heartbreak: A Poetic Journey In the quiet solitude of my room, where shadows dance and memories whisper, I sit and reflect on the past, my heart a mosaic of shattered dreams and lingering pain. Heartbreak, they say, is a bitter pill to swallow, yet it is in this very bitterness that we find the seeds of our own strength and renewal. “Sometimes, good things fall apart so better…

[dreammfyre]

the heir's favorite ⋆ jacaerys velaryon

SUMMARY. You are the first daughter of the marriage between your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen and your father Daemon Targaryen. Always the most rebellious and difficult of all, temperamental, impulsive. However, weak before the temptation to possess your older brother, the crown prince Jacaerys Velaryon, a knight par excellence, the opposite of you. But no one in Dragonstone imagined that you shared much more than dragon's blood.

WARNINGS. +18 Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!oc. Targaryen incest (brother and sister). Jacaerys aggressive and dominant. Smut. Based on the second season of House Of the Dragon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. This was a suggestion left anonymously in the messages, so I invite you to leave yours. Thanks for reading.

The empty room was so quiet that you could feel your thoughts could be heard all over the place. The full moon illuminated the dark sky, standing out against the stars that night where everyone was resting in their chambers, but you were unable to lie in your bed, much less fall asleep without having nightmares. The Stone Table was where everyone met daily to discuss strategies for the war that was being unleashed in Westeros, but now that empty place was strange, so much silence and loneliness. The extinguished embers did not illuminate the tabletop, you touched the stone expecting to burn, however, it was totally cold.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice entered the place. You turned immediately finding Prince Jacaerys, your older brother and heir to your mother's throne. "Sister... it's very late."

"I know, you should be resting." You replied walking towards him.

"It's a bit complex lately." He took the luxury of joking, in response you smiled without much encouragement. "May I know what you're doing here?"

"Not much. Seems to me you're not the only one who doesn't get any rest." You lifted your shoulders casually. "Any news on your rounds?"

Jacaerys shook his head in disappointment, pacing around the table resting his hands on the handle of his sword without taking his eyes off you, analyzing your presence carefully, as if silently judging you. You rested your hands on the stone of the table relaxing your body on your arms, but your head couldn't stop scheming hundreds of thoughts and bloody imaginary scenarios regarding the war.

"Cole's army is getting bigger and bigger and we don't have a damn clue about anything." You said with a tense jaw. "And about my father..." you sighed deeply without looking your brother in the face "no word from him for days."

"That's not your fault." Jace tried to make you feel better with repeated kind words, but your guilt was growing and the anguish of the approaching war wouldn't leave you alone. "Daemon is not the priority."

"That idiot should be here, on the island, with his queen and his children." You whispered angrily. Then you looked up resolute in your decision. "I'll go see him tomorrow."

That didn't sit well with your brother.

"Don't talk nonsense, Visenya." The heir scoffed. "You can't go to Harrenhal alone, it's too dangerous and we don't know if the way is clear."

"You think I'll arrive by land alongside Daemon's imaginary army?" you sneered in the same condescending manner, a brazen gesture that made Jacaerys' blood boil. "I will ride Vermithor's back at dawn and arrive before the sun peaks. I will return the same day with news before the queen."

"That's a lousy idea!" Your brother exclaimed angrily. Grabbing your arm with brute force, forcing you to look him. "How can you even think of traveling alone to lands we don't know if they are enemies or allies?"

"We need to move fast before they come for us, Jacaerys." You squirmed under his grip feeling his fingers bury into your pale skin. "Do you intend to wait for my father to return?" you managed to break free from his grip with difficulty, Jacaerys ran a hand through his wavy hair desperate not to talk sense into you. "Because you may take a seat, I will not be accompanying you."

"Visenya, please understand the magnitude of your stupidity." He begged, chasing you from side to side. Your brother knew how impulsive you were, and how hard it was for you to get an idea out of your head, no matter if it was good or bad and in this case it was a rather dangerous one. "What happens if you cross paths with Vhagar in the skies?" The prince raised his voice to you demanding and imperative trying to intimidate you, anyone passing nearby could overhear your discussion. You turned your back to him, you didn't want to look him in the face out of embarrassment because deep down you knew his words were true. "You have no business there!"

"I have no business here either!" you exclaimed with the same intensity. You were temperamental by nature and now you were blowing off steam. "I'm tired of staying cooped up on the island, waiting for others to figure things out! I'm a dragon rider, and I'm constrained by these walls."

Your brother understood that feeling better than anyone, he grabbed you by both cheeks, covering your face with his firm hands.

"I know how you feel, Visenya. Believe me, but walking out at the first impulse is not the solution, don't you understand?" You put your hands over his, looking at him intently. You wanted to nod to answer him the question he asked you, but you were mesmerized in his nearness and his breath hitting your face. "Stay here, with us." He watched you carefully without letting go, losing himself in the sense of his pleas to look at you closely, you were so beautiful in any light no matter how dim, a Targaryen through and through with bright, intense violet eyes of long white hair like your parents. Jacaerys couldn't help but stare at you, the half-open lips tempting him to taste you, trying not to lose what little composure he had left. "With me."

You possessed the ethereal beauty of your mother and the complex character of your father, Daemon Targaryen. Under your little ethics and impulsiveness you did not think if it was a coherent idea and you threw yourself to kiss the thick lips of your brother who reciprocated instantly, none of them reasoned, they only moved to the rhythm of the kiss where their moist lips brushed anxiously. Your brother's hand on your waist took you by surprise, more so when he pressed you against his body bumping you against his chest and cornering you against the table.

"Go to sleep." Jace scolded you making an attempt to stop kissing you, but you kept reaching for him. "This isn't a good place."

With a smile you ignored knowing the only way to stop the situation was for you to go to your quarters and you didn't feel like leaving. You grabbed her hair tangling your fingers in her chestnut curls, Jacaerys strength intimidated you, but it wasn't enough to stop you.

"Don't go to Harrenhal." He pleaded leaving kisses on your neck, tracing a wet path over your skin taking advantage of inhaling your scent. "Do it and I promise I will warm your bed every night."

You felt a shiver run down your back at his offering, Jacaerys kept leaving kisses until he reached your collarbones uncovered by the neckline of your dress. His warm lips made your heart beat faster, you grabbed him by the face stopping him.

"Would you do that for me?" you asked with dangerous innocence, watching his glossy swollen lips.

"Do you really doubt it?" he answered against your ear, then brushed his nose against yours slowly, you left a short kiss on his lips almost by instinct, so tender and unexpected that you heard a laugh come out of the prince.

"I'll think about it." You whispered touching his chest, playing with the textures of the fabrics, his agitated breathing gave him away, having you close was a personal challenge for the prince. It was a lie, you weren't going to think about it, you just wanted to give him what he needed to hear to stay with you.

Jacaerys' big hands began to take hold of your body squeezing you tightly making you gasp, then you lifted your chin giving him access to your neck, the kisses there unsettled you in a special way and only your brother knew it, taking advantage of your weakness, listening closely to his breathing and feeling the warmth of his breath was much better. Everything about him you liked, and you were missing him lately. The pressure and uncertainty of the war had taken your head elsewhere, you had abandoned each other for valid reasons, but at that second you just wanted to give yourself to him one more time.

You stood on your tiptoes to gain a little more height reaching for his ear, your brother tensed at the delicate touch of your hot tongue against his lobe, you licked delicately knowing that it turned him on, he confessed it to you one night and you never forgot it. A deep moan of satisfaction came from his throat, then carefully, you lowered one of your hands straight down to his pants, positioning yourself over his hard member that was pressing against the fabric.

"This is not the best place." Begged the prince resting his forehead on your shoulder. "We are in a sacred place, you know?"

You cared little for his insistence or decency when you only wanted to shout his name, though you knew Jacaerys was asking you to stop for the sake of not failing in duty, not because the desire wasn't there. No one understood the reason why Rhaenyra did not cancel the stupid engagement between Lady Baela and the right Jacaerys, no one could deny that they could become blameless kings for the history of Westeros, but there would never be the tension and burning desire throbbing as when the fire was unleashed between you. That first time with a taste of sin, you begging him not to stop, that it was going to become a one-time secret that his parents would never find out, a secret they couldn't help but repeat between your sheets and his, in the hallways and in the library.

Desperate, your brother lifted the skirt of your dress with your help by grabbing your leg and pulling it up to his waist. The mere contact made you moan from the pleasure, you clamped your mouth shut to keep from making noise, you were too sensitive and needy and Jacaerys liked to have you under his control. You were always sarcastic, upset and nasty, just like your dragon, but Jacaerys Velaryon knew how to control you.

"What are you going to do if someone finds out about us?" You asked with bated breath. Deep down it was important to keep the secret guarded to keep it. Jacaerys' fingers stroking between your legs making you jump, clinging to the heir's neck and leaning against the table. "What are they going to say when they find out the crown prince fucking his sister."

His fingers slowly moved up and down, playing with your slimy wetness between his fingers. The mischievous grin on the chestnut's face only reflected the satisfaction of having managed to have you like this, so submissive to him.

"Does it scare you?" he whispered against your moaning lips. With his other hand he gripped the back of your neck tightly, so you wouldn't move. "They're going to find out you're my spoiled sister." Two of his long fingers began to search for the perfect place to insert themselves into you. You stirred under his grip settling in for him, your desperate breathing needing him to finish his work, but he seemed very calm provoking you with his words. "Do you know what they'll call you?" he bit your lip, pulling it towards him. "The heir's whore." His fingers slipped inside you so easily, sliding into your wet insides gushing moans from your chest as you felt him move in and out of you. Jacaerys took your leg his free hand clutching his fingers to your thigh preventing you from closing before him.

At the first loud moan you covered your mouth immediately knowing you were attracting attention, the sensation between your legs was stronger. You squeezed your brother's shoulder getting used to the movement of his fingers inside you.

"Don't yell." He ordered uncompromisingly. He had to kiss you to shut you up, which served you a few short minutes. You were losing your mind, your legs wanted to close but Jace put his foot down to stop that from happening.

"Jacaerys." His name on your lips excited him more than anything else, for it was the tone of desperation that mirrored your desire. To know that he controlled you and you were under his dominion with how arrogant you were, that no knight owned you, that everyone desired you for being Rhaenyra's spoiled daughter, but you were his, no matter an arranged marriage or duty was enough. "Mmh." You ran your hand over your face, desperate to keep silent fighting against your body that was beginning to tremble as his fingers went faster.

But for an ego like Prince Jacaerys Velaryon's it wasn't enough. Listening to you enjoy yourself on the Stone Table where every day they met to discuss war strategies was the most satisfying image to his eyes and he was not going to be able to forget it. The way you moved, dragon-like, the sweetest and most desperate noises came from you, none of the whores he had been with compared to the delicacy of a pureblood Targaryen. A unique and unrepeatable privilege.

When your breathing became erratic and the murmurs incomprehensible swearing you were going to reach that peak, Jacaerys came to a screeching halt chastising you. You opened your eyes in disappointment and fury, your heart leaping out of your chest and your legs damp and trembling.

"Be a good sister," he stroked your cheek with the gentleness you deserve to be treated with. You were trying to listen to him but you were so upset you just wanted to insult him for doing that to you. "Turn around."

Your hair stood up at his tone of voice demanding and conciliatory at the same time. As obedient as ever, just for him, you turned your back to him as the prince busied himself with pulling down his pants that were pressing against the erection he was trying to contain. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, you could still feel his long fingers inside you and the wait, however minimal, was becoming eternal and torturous. You looked sideways at the entrances of the place without finding anyone, but the truth is that you didn't care if at that moment the queen arrived and found them like that, the euphoria and adrenaline was taking over your body and your reason, the overflowing desire had taken your actions. You felt Jace's hands sneaking up your skirt, careful where to touch, looking for just the right position to enter. He stood behind you, your dress pulled up over your back, the mere touch made you moan. You were so wet it was slipping from your entrance.

"Don't say anything." He told you and you nodded, you were capable of begging if necessary, though deep down you knew he enjoyed it making you obey. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

You closed your eyes as you felt Jacaerys slowly push behind you. You took a breath and tried to relax, you both moaned slowly, the prince tensed his jaw and clenched his teeth to keep from making noise, he stayed still for a few seconds searching for your hips digging his fingers into your skin trapping you in that position, moving you back and forth to better thrust. The rubbing of his member on your walls felt warm and wet, an invasion of your body, you were so used to his size that the sensation became familiar, literally. Some of the pieces of stone you unintentionally threw away, that was going to be a problem for later, because now the noise of their bodies colliding was beginning to consume you. The control he had over you didn't bother you, he gripped you tightly taking over everything. Her hips moved with yours instinctively in a delicious back and forth.

"Like this." You gasped with closed eyes and a satisfied expression. You reached for his hand under your dress and clung to him as tightly as Jace clung to you.

His length pumped in and out of you at a rapid pace, but this time, Jacaerys made sure each thrust was deep by ramming his pelvis into your buttocks.

"What a pleasure to meet again, don't you think?" his question was punctuated by your same panting without stopping moving. You weren't able to answer, your high-pitched moans were getting louder and louder, putting both of you at risk. On the other hand, he was breathing heavily. You had to cover your mouth with your hand, biting your palm to stifle your own moans of pleasure at having him inside you.

You started to stir but you were trapped in his hands, he knew you well enough to know what to do, you turned to look at him finding the heir ramming you with force and speed, his hair fell in curls that moved to the rhythm of his rhythm, when their gazes met for a second he stared at you, your face sweating, your eyes bright with a frown of supplication and red cheeks were enough to have no mercy. Your entrance was tightening at the same time you couldn't breathe, that feeling of a wave invading your insides begging for more desperate to reach orgasm. Jacaerys took your with one hand your waist and with the other your hip, encasing his fingers preventing you from escaping, you were in this together and you had to finish it.

You moved your arm and disarranged the pieces on the board. Now you could hear your brother moaning, cursing you for being his undoing and the greatest of his sins, making you his own feeling the power to mark you and deflower you breaking any tradition that governs the Targaryen nobility. It felt so good that you could confess your love to him just so he wouldn't stop. Luckily for both of you, he didn't stop, the rapid movements and the pressure forming in your lower stomach was getting out of control, the noise intensifying from the collision of your bodies and your knees seemed to lose any kind of strength to hold you up, luckily the table was there to support your body, plus your brother who wasn't going to let you fall. Until you couldn't manage to resist anymore, your orgasm came first like a shiver throughout your body, you closed your eyes tightly and watching you exclaim his name in screams of pleasure ended the infinite torture of the heir that took a few seconds to wait.

"Shit." Your voice hopefully came out of your dry mouth. You had your chest against the weight crushing your breasts, one of your hands intertwined with your brother's who was rebounding behind you.

You both took a second to take a breath and assimilate what you had just done, you had promised not to fall into carnal sin again and that's why the last time was several months ago. You leaned on the table with both hands coming back into yourself with your chest heaving, your brother's hands were still in the same place but he was no longer squeezing you with the same possessive intensity. Your hair was falling on both sides, tousled from the movement and your legs were begging you for a rest.

Jacaerys caught his breath, but his heart had not calmed down at all. His body was still experiencing those chills and that unique tension, he took a step backwards out of your body to get dressed. You immediately felt the fluid trickle down the inside of your thighs, dripping slowly down your hot skin.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked pulling up his pants, his movements a little uncontrolled as the adrenaline was still pumping. You nodded fixing your wrinkled dress. It wasn't the first time it had happened, you both knew what it was, that meant you would have to have tea the next morning.

"Looks like I'll be staying."

Your older brother smiled, fixed his hair pulling it back and moving closer to kiss you again, this time slower and softer, trapping your lips with his so slowly that you relaxed. You took his face kissing him again, his scent, his warmth, his bearing that forced you to lift your chin to reach your mouth, the softness of his lips, it was the most comforting sensation you knew.

"Go rest." He whispered without opening his eyes. Tidying your hair behind your ear.

"Okay." You replied in the same tone, so obedient and submissive before him, kissing for the last time his mouth following your movement. "Good night"

Leaving him was complicated, but you were satisfied with the encounter. As you walked you felt the burning between your legs, a reminder that was to last a couple of days that he had made you his once more, that was the greatest secret they kept hidden, they had forgotten for a moment the war between families, the political problems, duty and order.

Jacaerys Velaryon watched you go, silently picking up the sword he had dropped to the ground. That simple symbol that he was capable of abandoning his duty as prince for you, he staked his honor and his word for taking you. He stayed a while longer tidying up the mess they had created, arranging the pieces of stone in the place that corresponded according to the figure, picking up from the floor some that fell without realizing it. It was he who always assumed the role of responsibility for cleaning up the mess and pretending nothing had happened. How was he going to show up tomorrow at this very spot knowing he had relations with Visenya, the spoiled and arrogant princess, right there?

He only hoped Daemon Targaryen would never discover that his daughter was the heir's favorite if he wished to one day ascend the throne.

[khioneee]

tap out. pt ii.

a few years later, another tap-out ceremony arrives, but this time, the air feels different—heavier, somber. simon’s been gone for over a year, his deployment unexpectedly extended due to an incident overseas. you’d been told he couldn’t come home for a while, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

today, you stand among families who aren’t just here to tap out their loved ones but to say goodbye to those who didn’t make it home. tears stream down faces as loved ones gather around caskets, grieving the soldiers they’d lost. the sight fills you with a mix of dread and relief, knowing simon is still out there, waiting.

simon stands in formation, rigid as always, but he has a sense for you. before you even appear in his line of sight, he knows you’re near. but imagine his surprise when he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision, a small bundle wrapped securely in your arms.

his heart hammers in his chest, quickening as he realizes what this means. his breath catches, his eyes fixed on you as you approach. you look up at him, your eyes sparkling, a knowing smile on your face as you watch the subtle changes in his expression—the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the way his breathing picks up as it dawns on him.

both of you had been trying for a baby before he left, and now, standing before him, you hold that precious life in your arms. it had been a struggle going through pregnancy without him, feeling his absence during every kick and every sleepless night. but seeing him now, looking more than ready to meet your child, all the pain fades away, replaced by a joy so profound it fills every inch of you.

‘daddy’s home,’ you whisper softly, tilting the blanket so simon can see her tiny face, fast asleep, a perfect mirror of him in miniature. she’s got his nose, his quiet strength already etched into her tiny features.

with tears in your eyes, you reach up, your hand finding his cheek, tapping him out in the gentlest of touches.

the moment your hand connects, simon moves, breaking formation as he pulls both of you into his arms, holding you close as if he’ll never let go. his voice is thick with emotion, barely a whisper as he murmurs, ‘my loves.’

you knew your husband had a reputation in the military—a man as cold and unyielding as steel, a fortress no one could break. but as he held you and your newborn in his arms, that carefully built facade cracked, revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you ever saw. the tough soldier was gone, replaced by a man whose heart lay entirely with his family.

‘do you want to hold her?’ you ask softly, watching his eyes light up with a blend of surprise and joy.

‘her?’ he whispers, voice catching on the single word, as if it’s almost too much for him to believe.

you nod, smiling through a haze of happy tears. ‘her.’

with slow, reverent movements, you pass your daughter to him, watching as she looks impossibly tiny cradled in his strong arms. simon looks down at her with a mixture of wonder and fierce protectiveness, as though he’s already memorizing every detail of her face.

as if sensing her father’s gaze, the baby yawns, a soft little sound that makes simon’s eyes shine with awe. you catch the faintest smile pulling at his lips, a rare, tender expression that he reserves only for moments like this.

he leans down, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. ‘never gonna let anything happen to you,’ he murmurs, voice thick with love and quiet promise.

while simon was lost in his quiet moment with your daughter, a loud shout cut through the air, breaking the peaceful silence.

‘is that our baby i see?!’

simon’s head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting to something harder. he turned to see soap grinning widely, practically bouncing with excitement. with a sigh, simon reached over and smacked the back of soap’s head, though his movements were careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

‘there’s people grieving, you idiot,’ simon muttered, but soap only snickered, completely unfazed.

‘and what do you mean, ‘our’? she’s y/n’s and mine. you’re not part of this relationship, mate,’ simon added, his tone dripping with mock irritation.

but soap, undeterred, just ignored him and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in a display of exaggerated excitement. ‘oh, come on! let me hold our child!’

simon groaned, looking down at you with a glance that seemed to ask, ‘do i really have to put up with this?’ but he couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as soap’s enthusiasm filled the air around you.

reluctantly, and with another sigh, simon finally leaned over, carefully passing your daughter to soap, though not without a low, ‘if you don’t keep her calm, you’re not holding her again.’

soap just grinned, taking her into his arms as if he’d won the lottery, cradling her gently and cooing softly.

soon after, the rest of task force 141 gathered around, drawn by the excitement, each member eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

you and simon stood to the side, watching with cautious eyes as they took turns holding her, each one adopting a careful gentleness you wouldn’t have expected from hardened soldiers.

price held her with a proud grin, murmuring something about ‘training her to be the next captain,’ while gaz made her giggle softly with his gentle cooing. even the usually reserved roach softened as he held her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

you glanced up at simon, watching his face as he stood beside you, arms crossed in a show of casual indifference.

but you knew him too well. beneath the mask of stoicism, there was something warmer, a subtle softness in his gaze as he watched his team, his family, sharing this moment with him. this gruff, unbreakable soldier, who had once thought he’d lost everything, had found a new family among them, one that shared in his joys and sorrows alike.

reaching over, you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. he didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a quick squeeze in return, a quiet acknowledgment. but you could see it in his eyes, that gratitude for a family he never expected to find—a family that had now become part of yours.

[ienjoywritingfilth]

the wedding night

hi: i wrote this in an afternoon on the bus and barely edited this. it only exists because seeing that photo of General Acacius made me feel hornee things®. I don't know shit about roman gladiator times, this is just a debauched excuse to be railed by the man.

trope: forced marriage

pedro character: Marcus Acacius x female reader (you)

warnings: innocence kink, age gap (not specified, but he an old peepaw just how we like him) , names like whore because i am one, forced marriage, Au as fuck because i have no idea what happens in the movie, virgin bullshit, eating out, pp in vv, dubconish, i think that's everything.

RATED 18+

"Take to the bed," the muscular man tells you in a raspy voice as you enter the bedroom, wishing you had your fur. "I leave early for battle at dawn." 

He makes no move to leave and so you glance from the waiting bed back over to the imposing figure standing by the fire. His tousled, greying curls are touched by the flickering reflection of the flames behind him. 

This is all new to you and almost surreal. You've been taken from your modest home and brought here to a lavish home in Rome. You glance over at your new husband timidly. 

"Are you to remain here all night?"

"We are wed," he replies with a wry grin. "Of course we shall spend the night together." 

You've been shipped here under your father's greedy love for coin. And now you stand here in the bed chambers of the man who became your husband only hours ago. 

General Marcus Acacius; a man double your age with the kind of quiet strength that made you anxious when you first laid eyes on him today, only moments before he slipped the ring onto your finger and you were announced as his. 

He drank only a bit of wine at the wedding, a stark contrast to the family of yours that acted like the animals in Marcus' stables with every glass poured. Of course they would celebrate; they'd made a small fortune on your marriage, having sold you off like cattle.

And you now stand across the room from him, your husband, General Acacius, Marcus. A man who served under the infamous Maximus. He cuts a fearsome figure both on and off the battlefield with his broad, muscled frame and serious countenance.  

You wear the traditional wedding night garment, a thin dress that is practically see-through. You pull your arms over your chest, hiding your nipples that poke through the thin fabric.

When you'd come to the room you'd been surprised to see Marcus there waiting for you, stoking the fire. You'd been told by the servants that your new husband would be preparing for battle all night. It had brought you some comfort.

But Marcus is here in nothing but his tunic cinched at the waist. His armour is in a pile by the door, his sword there as well. Without it he's still terrifying. 

Marcus notes the arms you hold over your chest for modesty and he feels arousal begin to drip lazily into his veins. 

"Undress," he says plainly, his dark eyes trailing over your body. 

You make no move to follow his orders. If anything you seem angry with him. His fingers twitch next to his thigh as he waits for your compliance. It doesn't come. 

The dark grey tunic he wears hangs just above his knees so when he walks over to you you're able to see his muscled legs rippling with power. You quiver as he finally stands in front of you. One thick forearm goes to rest against the wall above your head, his neck craning so he can look you in the face.  

"I said undress."

"You will not order me about as if I were your slave," you seethe, your head craning away from him. "I am your wife."  

"I am twice widowed," Marcus murmurs as his wide finger traces the curve of your delicate collarbone. "I have come to realize I have little need for a wife."

"Then why bring me here away from my family and my homeland? Why marry me at all if you have no need of me?"

"I have no need for a wife," Marcus repeats roughly, his exhalation landing over your face like a wine-soaked cloud. "But a man always has need for a ready cunt."

You rear back and your hand flies through the air so quickly he's clearly not expecting it. The slap you deliver to his bronzed cheek is so hard that he flinches back at the sensation, but his head remains facing you. 

"I am no whore," you hiss. You've never been spoken to like this. "Nor a hole for you to fill at your leisure." 

You're horrified when you see him lengthen under his tunic, thick and fearsome looking to your inexperienced eye. He smiles at you when you gaze back up at his face, a feral, ugly grin that has you backing against the stone wall as he advances, his pelvis nudging yours. 

"You will be fucked well," Marcus whispers. "So well you will happily call yourself my whore." 

You push at his broad chest, free of his usual armour and yet hard to the touch like iron. He doesn't budge, he just presses his pelvis into yours, pinning you to the wall. You feel him there between your legs, warm and waiting and large. 

His hand comes to grip your jaw, forcing your unwilling mouth to his. He kisses you fiercely, like he owns you. It disgusts you. He pries your lips open with his own and as he licks into your mouth his tongue tastes of sweet wine. 

You wince, trying to wrench from his grip. He only smiles, hands coming to meet at the collar of your nightdress.  You shriek as he begins tearing the delicate fabric down the middle and exposing your breasts to the chilled air. 

"I desire to see what is now mine," he murmurs, a hand coming to palm your breast. 

You bat his hand away, slipping sideways from him into the centre of the room near the bed. He doesn't look upset; he looks amused, as if he were playing a game. 

You hold the torn fabric of your dress at your chest, covering yourself as you back away from his advancing figure.  

"I am not your anything," you grimace. "Leave at once." 

Though your voice is strong you back away, a shuffled step for each strong stride of his until you feel the bed hit the back of your calves. 

"This is our wedding night," Marcus says silkily. "And we must consummate."

Before you can deny him he jabs his strong fingers on either side of your clavicle, causing you to fall backwards onto the bed. You gasp when he follows after you, lifting the hem of your dress. 

His head is thrust under, making you kick out your legs in fear. What is he doing under there? Fear has you convinced he may bite you. 

You go to pull away further when you feel him starting to part your thighs. You squeal anxiously, twisting. 

"Get off!"

"Calm yourself, wife," he orders gruffly from beneath your nightgown. He's stronger than you, his hands wide and it's only seconds before he's got your legs hinged over his shoulders. 

You continue to cry out, desperate for escape. You're terrified of this brute of a man. 

His mouth finds your cunt swollen and wet and when he lays his wide tongue flat and licks a stripe up the seam you suddenly go quiet. You can feel him smile against the lips of your pussy. 

"So soft," he murmurs, kissing your sex reverentially before his tongue darts out to sample you again. It's been so long since he had a cunt this soft and sweet against his tongue. 

Your hips jump and Marcus can't help but smirk. Under your nightgown all he can see and smell is your sex, open widely thanks to his hands, glistening with his saliva and your own arousal. He feasts on you, groaning as he gets swept away by the sensations your whimpers create in him. 

 You're on your back, looking up at the beautifully painted ceiling. A celestial pattern that mimics the night outside your window. Your chest heaves, nipples pert and straining as his mouth works against your cunt, making you tingle everywhere.

He's on his knees beside the bed, you're thighs hinged on his broad shoulders, the cream of your skin against his ears. He doesn't care that tomorrow his knees will ache because devouring you as you thrash for him on the bed has him feeling like a young man again. 

He sucks the lips of your pussy into his mouth with relish, his hips grinding into the edge of the bed when you cry out. You hear him chuckle before he continues and the sound reminds you that you don't want him touching you like this and bringing out these feelings you've only heard whispers about. Not a man who has decided you're nothing more than a thing to fill. 

"Ssstop," you slur above him, unable to focus as your vision blurs.  

"No."

You keen breathily, your hands scrabbling to grip the bed. His broad hands cup your ass, forcing your sex harshly against his mouth. You hear vulgar slurping noises coming from underneath your nightgown and your eyes roll back. 

You've never had a man before. Your mother warned you about husbands and their selfish desires in the bedroom. But this doesn't feel like what she warned you about. This feels good. 

You feel a pressure beginning between your legs and you panic, trying to force Marcus' head from between your thighs but he just grips stronger, tilting his head from side to side as he drinks you down, his tongue wide and stuffing your cunt. 

When be begins to suck brutally at your clit, bliss overtakes you, causing your back to arch and a shuddering scream to leave your throat. 

Your hips undulate as he continues to fuck you with his tongue, stopping only when you begin to whine that it is too much. He licks you gently after that, cleaning the evidence of your orgasm with relish. 

With a creak he stands beside the bed and removes his tunic. In a daze you lay on your elbows, gazing up at his broad, muscular body knowing that if he wanted to he could snap you like a twig. His cock rests heavily between his legs, just as thick and long as you thought. Despite the pleasure he brought you there's still that glint in his dark eyes, a mockery that you can't stand.

"Get away from me."

Your cunt pulses, drooling with your previous release. You try to curl into a ball, facing away from him. 

You think he may leave you be but you feel his hand grip your waist. You thrash as he rips the rest of the nightdress off your body before forcing you onto your hands and knees. 

"It is now my turn to take, wife. Ready yourself." 

He pushes you down onto your belly, curving your ass up to the sky. Then he crawls over you, his hands pinning yours to the bed under his.  You feel him there at your entrance and you feel terrified tears stream over your cheeks. 

"No need for fearful tears," he assures you as his mouth meets your neck. "You will be crying for more of my cock soon enough."

You cry out as he pushes the head of his length between your dripping folds. He's much too big, the intrusion too great. 

"I will make this quick," he grunts. "For your benefit."

Marcus can hardly believe how good the velvet clench of your cunt feels sliding along his cock as he pushes through your virginal barrier. Not since his first wife has he come close to anything this divine.

His teeth come to grip at your shoulder, biting there, marking you as he feeds his cock into your pussy from behind. 

Your cries are muted, your pain ignored, because all Marcus can feel is bliss. Bliss as he marks you forever as his. Bliss as his thick cock stretches your walls, bliss as your pussy stings straining to take him all. 

And by the time he's buried with his hips against your ass, your shoulder is bruised with the indents of his teeth. 

"No more," you beg as he begins to move within you. "Let it be done." 

"We have only started," he muses, kissing your damp cheek. "The best is yet to come."

His frame is so broad it covers you entirely, like you're wearing him as a robe draped over your curved body. He rocks into you as his massive hands press yours into the bed.  

You feel him pull slightly out before buying himself within your womb. You cry out, head falling forward as the slick feel of his cock buries itself deeper and deeper with every subsequent thrust. With every pump he moves the both of you forward before pulling you back. 

And just when the pain is too great, you feel it morph into pleasure. The feel of him thrusting in and out going from sharp to a pleasurable throb. 

Marcus senses the change in you when your back starts to arch and your hips start to lean back to meet his. You're enjoying it now, just as he knew you would. 

"You like this."

He grins to himself when you don't answer and instead let your head hang between your shoulders. 

He continues to tease you, never letting up, waiting until your noises become breathless and needy and then he recedes, chuckling when you whimper his name. 

What feels like eternity later the two of you are slick with sweat, your limbs shaking as Marcus watches you from above. His hands are on your hips now, pulling you against him. 

He spreads your cheeks wide, groaning when he watches his thick cock filling your tight pussy to the brim. 

You're begging for him to give you the same pleasure as before, nearly sobbing with how cock-drunk you are. He feels so good buried between your thighs. 

Marcus only smirks down at you, a hand pressed on your lower back, urging your ass up higher for him. He thinks about all the things he's going to do with you before leaving for battle. 

The thought is exciting him, sending him erratically pumping as he tilts you back, hand coming to strum your clit as your spine kisses his front. He holds you on his thighs, spread wide and bouncing.  

"What are you?" He pants, his lips squished against your cheek, his fingers curling, making you see stars. 

"You're. . . You're wife," you manage to croak out, your hands gripping his forearm slung over your chest. 

He fucks harder into you, his cock hitting the spot your own fingers can never manage. It's causing more stars behind your eyes, your body limp in his grip like a doll. 

"What are you?" Marcus demands again, only now he punctuates his question with a firm slap to your cunt.  

You ache where he slapped, but a pleasurable one that sends you closer and closer to falling off the edge of bliss once more. Only this feels so much bigger, so much more intense than when his mouth was on you. 

"Say it." 

You writhe on his cock, held by one arm around your middle, the other fucking you with his thick fingers over your clit and his thicker cock splitting you with every upward thrust. 

"Please, Marcus."

Marcus is so sweaty, his muscles gleaming in the low firelight. He moans lowly, the sound making your toes curl. Then his warm breath is hot on the side of your face. 

"Say it and I will give you all that you desire." 

You're so close, that pleasure ebbing and coming back stronger with every swipe and thrust. You try to sound it out, but the shame overtakes you again.

"I am you. . . I am your. . ."

Marcus is groaning into your ear again, his thighs twitching as your arousal soaks down his length. But he doesn't stop filling you over and over, his eyes closing as he revels in the pleasure of your milking cunt. 

"Say it." 

And now he presses the heel of his palm against your sex, holding you by the throat under your chin as your head snaps back onto his shoulder. Exposed like an animal Marcus stakes his claim, latching his mouth onto your neck and sucking. 

"I am . . . I am. . ." 

His thrusting continues and now he forces you back onto your hands and knees, draping his body over yours, fingers and cock never stopping, only drilling you from a new angle. He watches your sweet ass ripple for him as he pounds into your cunt, marvelling at how puffy and shiny and perfect she is. 

"Say it," he booms and you can feel his thrusting growing staggered, his body fucking into you with all that he has.

And you can't hold the words back any longer, not when it feels like your very ecstasy hinges on them being said out loud. It tears from you, ripped from your very vocal chords as he sinks into you, your voice shrill and cracked as you scream it.

"I am your whore!" 

The answering groan of Marcus in your ear makes you cry out loudly, coating his stroking fingers with hot arousal as you cum. 

“My whore,” he hisses as you buck against him.

You shake the entire time, confused at how everything in you burst like a ripe berry on the vine and yet you remain outwardly unchanged. Surely you very soul must have left you at that pinnacle of pleasure. You've never felt anything like it. 

And yet here you remain, in his arms in his bed, human and alive. You both pant heavily, the room smelling of sex and sweat and the oils in your hair. 

Marcus tugs you against him and you roll towards his body, pliant and willing. His mouth finds yours but it's soft and delicate. Your hands run through his soft, greying curls. 

"Are you satisfied?" 

You ask it quietly, almost afraid to know his true thoughts. He's experienced in so many ways, twice your age, strong and capable. And yet the kiss he gives you is gentle. It curves as he smiles against your waiting mouth. 

"I am, wife." 

[hairmetal666]

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - chapter 1

(Rafe Cameron x Reader, series, 3.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

The drive down to Miami was idyllic. Windows rolled down, you and Carter sang along to the playlist you’d made for the trip and ate your favorite childhood snacks. Blue skies above you as Carter’s new Jeep flew down the coast, you actually started to feel excited for the week ahead.

Then, you pulled up to the Airbnb, and it all faded.

The second you saw all of Carter’s high school friends in the driveway, unpacking their cars and exchanging hugs, it all came rushing back. The way you felt like you never really fit in, how they’d tease you for being quiet, how the boys’ eyes would skip right over you in search of your sister.

Carter turned down the radio when she noticed the way you were biting your lip with trepidation.

“It’s gonna be fun,” she tried to assure you. “Promise.”

You put on your best fake smile, determined to make this a good week for her. After everything she’s done for you, if all she wanted in return was a fun week at the beach, you’d give her that. You pushed your anxiety down as best as you could and hopped out of the Jeep.

“Oh shit!” Topper called, standing at the open trunk of his Range Rover. “Is that who I think it is?”

He rushed over, sweeping Carter up and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Put me down, Top!” She yelped, not entirely convincing that she wanted him to.

He set her down and smiled wide at her, just as smitten as ever. She gave him a playful pat on the head, like a dog, and went to get the bags from her car. Topper’s eyes shifted over to you and his jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

“No way, Little Carter is that you?” He teased, using your least favorite nickname.

“What’s up, Topper?” You tried to sound unannoyed.

Before he could answer, still slightly gawking at you, another voice emerged from the front door of the house.

“Yo who is it, Top?” Kelce yelled down from the top of the front steps.

“Come see for yourself, jackass!” Topper shouted back.

Kelce hopped down from the top step and approached you in the driveway, throwing his arm around Topper’s shoulder.

“No fucking way,” he said, when it finally dawned on him who you were. He looked you up and down and added, “what do they put in the water at that fancy school of yours?”

“Smoothe, man,” Topper smirked at him.

Your cheeks burned, you rolled your eyes at them to try and seem unaffected. They had never talked to you like this before. The majority of your interactions with Topper and Kelce in high school consisted of them teasing you about Rafe and asking where your sister was. They never even came close to flirting with you, and now you couldn’t decide whether you liked it or not.

“Can you two stop drooling over my baby sister and come help me with these fucking bags?” Carter called to them from the back of her Jeep.

“Yes ma’am,” Kelce winked at you before going to help your sister carry in the hundreds of dollars worth of beer she’d made you stop to pick up on the way here.

“You assholes better pay us back,” she told them, passing Topper a couple of 12 packs.

“Okay, give me your sister’s number and I’ll Venmo her right now,” he responded with a smirk.

You actually laughed at that one, which caused his chest to puff out with pride. Boys had always been somewhat of a mystery to you, but these two were painfully easy. Their playfulness helped you relax a little, wondering if this week might not be so bad after all.

Once you were inside, you and Carter each chose your own rooms, all your recently opened trust funds allowing you to rent the biggest house in the neighborhood. After unpacking, you walked down to the beach with Topper, Kelce, a couple of Carter’s girlfriends, and a guy you’d never met.

Topper and Kelce introduced him as their friend from college, a frat brother. His name was Tom, he was on the taller side, brunette, super cute. The way his toned arms flexed in his sleeveless shirt was the first thing you saw, but his bright, dimpled smile is what really caught your attention.

When you told him your name, offering him your hand to shake, he held it for a few seconds longer than any of the other girls and Carter gave you a knowing look. You’d never wished so badly that you knew how to turn off your blush.

Once you got down to the water, you helped Carter set up the umbrella and volleyball net you’d brought. You played intramural volleyball for your college and had actually gotten really good at it, you were excited to play with Carter, who’d always wanted you to get into sports with her.

When everything was set-up, you started to take off the bathing suit cover you had on over your bikini, but quickly realized there was a problem.

“Shit, Car, did we even bring sunscreen?” You asked your sister.

“Fuuuuck,” Carter said with a careless giggle. “Guess we’ll just burn.”

“Um no, I’m not listening to you whine about your sunburn all week,” you scolded her. “Top, did you bring sunscreen?”

“I hate to say no to you, beautiful, but…no,” Topper answered.

“Great, so we have eight hundred Natty Lights but no sunscreen,” you huffed.

“Sounds like a perfect vacation to me,” Kelce joked, already cracking his first beer.

“I brought some sunscreen,” Tom offered helpfully.

“Ah, my hero!” you smiled at him playfully.

You could feel all eyes on you when you said it. None of them had ever seen you flirt so comfortably before, or really even heard you speak. This was the person you were at school, but they had never met her before. You cleared your throat, feeling uncomfortable.

“Could I borrow some?” You asked Tom, who appeared oblivious to the shift in atmosphere.

“Yeah, it’s up at the house, I’ll go grab it!” You watched him run up the beach, his toned back muscles flexing, Carter bumped her hip into yours.

“Five minutes and he’s already whipped for you,” she teased. “Told you this trip was a good idea.”

By the time Rafe finally pulled up to the house in his truck, all the rooms had been claimed except for the shitty basement, with its low ceiling and lone twin sized bed. After dropping his bags, scowling at the mildew smell in the small space, he filled one of the coolers he brought with some imported beers and white claws and headed toward the beach.

“Yo, Top!” He called from the back porch, beckoning Topper up from the beach to help him carry the heavy cooler.

“Jesus, what you got in here?”  Topper grunted, struggling to lift his side of the cooler.

“Nicer shit than anything you brought,” Rafe said. “I’m not drinking cheap gas station beers all week.”

“Fine by me man,” Topper added a second hand to the cooler to help him lift it.

As they carried the cooler down the beach, Rafe mocking Topper for his inability to lift his share of the weight, Rafe scanned the private section of the beach to take a manual headcount of his housemates for the week.

He saw everyone he expected, the same people that would gather at the island club every time there was a break from school, the party always finding its way back to Tannyhill. The same girls that hung around him and his friends in high school, Carter, who he had never gotten along with, Kelce, who he had seen just last week, and…someone he didn’t recognize.

The mystery girl was facing away from him, but he could still tell she was gorgeous. Her bathing suit wrap hugging her body, her shiny, bouncy hair flowing in the ocean breeze. She bent down to set up her beach chair and he nearly dropped the cooler. 

“Woah, man,” Topper laughed. “Now who’s got butterfingers?”

“Who is that?” Rafe asked sternly, ignoring Topper’s harassment. 

“Dude, are you serious?” Topper eyed him.

Before Rafe could ask what Topper meant, you turned around, looking up towards the house in his direction, shielding the sun from your eyes and smiling a big, beautiful smile.

This time, Rafe really did drop the cooler. It was you. He hadn’t seen you in four years, and nobody told him you were coming on this trip. Nobody told him you looked like that now, either.

Everything that happened between you was so long ago, but he assumed you still hated him. But now, you were looking right at him and smiling. His lips started to turn upward for a moment and he almost lifted his hand to wave at you, when someone bumped into his shoulder.

“Shit, my bad man,” Tom said, his eyes not even looking at Rafe, glued to you. He ran off and approached you, and Rafe realized with a punch to his gut, it was this random guy you were smiling at and not him.

Rafe and Topper dragged the cooler a bit farther down the beach, dropping it behind all the umbrellas. Rafe immediately grabbed one of his expensive IPAs and twisted it open, throwing back a sip bitterly as he watched Tom hand you something, you smiled and touched his arm gratefully.

Carter approached the boys and the cooler, following Rafe’s eyes to you. She twisted her lips, trying to hide her smile, everything about this day going exactly as she had planned.

“Hey, Rafe,” She smirked. “You good?”

Rafe looked at her, eyes narrow as he tried to catch her meaning. When he realized she had caught him staring, he cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Fine,” he mumbled.

Rafe reached in the cooler and grabbed a white claw, offering it to Carter. Things had always been chilly between them, though they’d still been cordial with each other. Aside from that big argument senior year which they never talked about. Now, it hung in the salty air so prevalently, your presence after all this time stirring up old tensions.

Carter accepted the drink with a thank you, cracking it open and looking back to you. Both Carter and Rafe’s eyes went wide when you took off your cover-up, revealing a barely-there bikini and the new body none of your high school friends had seen yet. 

Everyone on the private beach was staring at you, but Rafe was staring at you, his knuckles going white around his beer as he eyed you up and down. His heart pounded so loudly in his chest he was afraid Carter and Topper would be able to hear it. Then, when you handed Tom the sunscreen and asked him to rub it on your back, an unfamiliar feeling bubbled in Rafe’s stomach and crawled up to his chest. He glared at Topper.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” He barked.

Carter and Topper’s heads both snapped towards him, neither surprised to hear the usual edge in his voice, though while Topper looked at Rafe with concern, Carter’s face only portrayed pure amusement.

“Who, Tom?” Topper asked, watching as Rafe’s eyeline returned to you, starting to catch on to the source of Rafe’s irritability. “He’s a brother from Alpha Tau.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a high school reunion trip,” Rafe snapped at him.

“Wow, someone’s pressed,” Carter beamed at him, delighted in his discomfort.

“I’m fine, just didn’t know we could invite people, that’s all,” he insisted.

“Sure, Rafey, that’s all,” she goaded him.

Rafe and Carter gave each other a knowing look, Topper’s eyes flashing between them, utterly out of the loop.

“What did I miss?” He prodded.

“Nothing,” Carter assured him. “Let’s play chicken, you’re on my team, Topper.”

“Oh hell yes,” he dashed after her like an excited puppy.

Rafe ignored the interaction, eyes glued to you in the distance as you settled into your beach chair and pulled out a book, Tom leaving your side and heading toward the water to join the game that had started. Rafe smiled, of course you were reading while everyone else was partying. Maybe you hadn’t changed that much after all. 

The spine of the brand new book cracked as you opened it, you sighed happily, loving the sound. You rarely ever got to read just for fun, always so busy with schoolwork, and you were so excited to dig into the fluffy romance you’d bought off tiktok and turn your brain off.

But then, just as your eyes grazed over the first sentence, you heard a voice from behind you that made your sun-kissed skin go cold.

“Whatcha readin’?” Rafe asked, his tall frame casting a shadow over your sunbathing spot.

You had pretended not to see him when he arrived a few minutes ago, throwing your attention at Tom instead, who took it happily, no idea that he was just a distraction from the flips your stomach was doing at Rafe’s arrival. You actually thought for a minute you might be able to avoid him this whole trip, but of course, he was pouncing as soon as you were alone. He always preferred talking to you when no one was around, sharing hours of meaningful late night conversations together, yet ignoring you at parties and in the halls at school as if you barely knew each other.

You closed the book slowly and placed it in your lap, any clever words you had to say to him flew suddenly from your brain. Regret swept over you, it was foolish to think you could pretend to be unaffected by his presence. He’d said two words to you and you were already nervous, overthinking every movement you made.

When you didn’t answer him, Rafe took it upon himself to plop down in the beach chair next to you, leaning over to read the title of your book.

“Is it any good?” You still didn’t look at him, but you could hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Wouldn’t know,” you looked down at your lap. “Just started it.”

“Well let me know what you think, might need to borrow it,” he kept his eyes on you, running over your body, making his own face go warm.

“Since when do you read?” You finally lifted your eyes to him.

Rafe’s jaw went slightly slack, all the swagger he’d brought on this trip with him suddenly disappearing. You were even prettier up close, your features more defined and striking than he remembered.

“People can change,” he finally mustered up, less bravado in his voice.

You gave yourself exactly three seconds to look at him, eyes sweeping quickly over his nose, lips, chin, anything but his eyes. His eyes were like a prison you’d once been held in, and you swore you’d never go back.

After your three seconds were up, you shifted your gaze to the ocean, hating that you wished you had three more to take him in. He was just as, if not more, gorgeous as you remembered. His features somehow sharp and soft at the same time. His lips pink and soft, skin a golden bronze even though the summer had just started. His hair was a little shorter now, but still long enough to stick up in the back in that messy way you liked.

The familiar red hue crept up your neck slowly, making its way to your cheekbones. You needed him to get up and leave you alone before you broke into an all out blush. You picked up your book and pretended to start reading again.

“You should go play with everyone else, looks like Kelce could use someone on his team,” you threw out, hoping he’d take the hint.

“What if I’d rather stay here and talk to you?” He asked, voice dropping just a hint.

You thought you could handle this, but you couldn’t. Was he seriously flirting with you right now? If you knew Rafe, the second you tried to flirt back, he’d grow uninterested and blow you off. With him, it was always like he convinced you to jump off a cliff with him, but then at the last second, he’d step back, watching apathetically as you fell all alone.

“I need to go unpack,” you said, standing from your chair and grabbing your book and beach bag, knowing full well your stuff was already neatly sorted in your room.

He looked up at you as you collected your stuff, and you hated the way you were sucking in your stomach. You spent four years working hard to love your body the way it was, and now, in front of him, all that self-consciousness came flooding back. 

You hurried away, catching Carter’s eye as you beelined for the house.

“Where are you going?” She said, slightly out of breath by the time she caught up to you.

“I can’t do this,” you explained, still walking fast.

“Wait,” she grabbed your arm, causing you to halt, hot sand burning your feet. “What happened?”

“He’s here,” you didn’t have to explain any further for her to understand.

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “But we knew he would be. We’re gonna ignore him, remember?”

“I don’t think I can, Car,” you sighed. “I think I should just go.” 

“No, please please please don’t go,” she begged. “I need you here. And you were having fun before, right? Tom’s cute! Just hang out with us and tell Rafe to go fuck himself.”

“That sounds more like something you’d say than me,” you smiled at her.

“Okay, fine,” she agreed. “I’ll tell him to fuck himself and to leave you alone.”

“No, don’t, I don’t want to cause any drama,” you requested.

“Well I think storming out twenty minutes after we got here would be pretty dramatic,” she argued.

Your lips in a tight line, you gave her an annoyed look, but she did kind of have a point. Everyone would ask why you left, and how would Carter explain it to them? Plus, you didn’t want to give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing he affected you this much.

“We’re about to play volleyball,” Carter said. “Come show them what a beast you are now! And then after you kick everyone’s ass, if you’re still miserable, you can leave and I’ll tell everyone you got sick.”

You squinted back at the group on the beach, considering her offer. Topper and Kelce were wrestling in the sand, somehow both losing. You smiled affectionately at their antics, you were really enjoying hanging out with them before Rafe got here.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed. “One game.”

It took half of one volley for you to get comfortable, head fully in the game. You were tempted to put your cover-up back on before playing, well aware of Rafe’s eyes on you through the net, but you decided not to, determined to love yourself the same way you had grown to when you thought you’d never see him again.

Tom was on Rafe’s team, also eyeing you through the net, but with a much more innocent, friendly expression.

“You’re pretty good!” He said when you’d spiked a ball into the sand right next to him.

“Thank you,” you smiled sweetly. “I play at school.”

“Hey man, stop flirting with our opponent and focus,” Rafe snapped at him from the serving line.

Tom just raised his eyebrows at you in amusement and mouthed “I’m in trouble.” You giggled and Rafe seethed, slamming the ball so hard on his next serve that his hand was red. 

After a few more volleys, you had rotated until you and Rafe were face to face across the net again. As you waited for one of your sister’s friends, Sabrina, to make her third attempt at serving, Rafe eyed you up and down.

“You look good,” he said quietly, so only you could hear.

It lit a fire in you, but not the one he was hoping for. You locked-in, bent low in a competitive stance, ready for the setter to tee you up. When Sabrina finally made her serve, you went all out, diving in the sand and running all over the court to keep the ball in play. Rafe’s athletic instincts took over, and he met every one of your attempts to score with a firm block. Eventually, your lungs burning with your heavy breathing, Rafe spiked the ball and you slipped in the sand, letting it get past you and land next to your feet with a thud.

You looked up at Rafe, who was high fiving his teammates and looking down at you with a smirk. He ducked under the net and reached out a hand to help you up.

“Sorry, kid,” he grinned as he lifted you to your feet. “I’m just that good.”

Kid. It all came back as you stared at him. The hours spent in your car, waiting for him dutifully. All the late night texts that meant everything to you and nothing to him. The cheek kisses and side hugs that fueled your fantasies. His hands around Cassie’s waist as he kissed her in broad daylight, though he’d only talk to you behind closed doors. 

Your cheeks turned red as they so often did, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment, it was from anger. He wouldn’t make you feel small anymore, you wouldn’t let him.

You turned to your team to fire them up, “let’s go, fucking lock in guys! You got me Top?”

Topper nodded with excitement, loving your new energy, as he got ready for his turn to serve.

“Fuck yeah, I got you, captain,” he saluted you.

Topper served. Rafe tried to dominate again but you were two seconds ahead of him on every play. Now it was you that had him diving around in the sand like an idiot. The smug smile wiped from his face, his jaw now clenched in frustration as he grunted with effort every time he hit the ball.

You were on fire, un-fucking-stoppable. After a few more volleys, your team was winning, one point from game.

You wiped the back of your hand across your forehead and down your neck, flicking off the sweat that had pooled. You felt two sets of eyes on you, Tom’s and Rafe’s, but you didn’t care, laser focused on your next play. When you lifted off the ground, body stretching to reach for the ball, you threw every frustration into the hit, hand colliding with the ball as hard as it could. Rafe dove, but he couldn’t get it, he crashed down hard, sand flying in his face as he whiffed, and you won the game.

Your side of the net broke into cheers, high fiving and whooping obnoxiously. Tom approached the net to offer his sportsmanlike congratulations, but you didn’t notice him, already making your way towards Rafe, who still sat defeated on the ground, eyes burning from the sand.

He smiled as you approached, reaching out his hand, thinking you were gonna help him up. But you just stepped around him, bending down, lowering your voice so only he could hear as you said,

“Sorry, kid, but I’m better.”

You left him sitting there, hand reaching for nobody like an idiot, dumbstruck and down bad as you sauntered up the beach.

(chapter 2)

a/n: I know I literally just posted the prologue but I didn't want to wait to get into the actual story. I'd love to hear what you think and where you want to see the story go! xoxo

[astrxq]

Hey! I love The Dragon's Bride so much, I must have read it like 5 times already. You have beautiful writing and the fact that it's 17k is even better.

If your requests are still open, I wanted to throw an idea your way. Seeing how isolated the Blacks are getting, with the Greens conquering everything around them by land, Rhaenyra is desperate to forge another alliance that will bring her more ground stability. The perfect lord that can bring this to her only wants one thing in return: for his grandson to be the future king. So she is forced to break Jace's engagement to Baela so he can marry the lord's only daughter instead. That angst because Jace has feelings for Baela before the fluff of him discovering his feelings for his new wife like fjehdhw

It's totally okay if you don't vibe with the idea and don't want to write it btw!!

Conspiracy of Hearts

jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

words: 23k

notes: thank you sooooo much anon <33, i love long fics (as you can probably tell) and i'm so so glad you enjoyed it. non-canon events, jace x baela at times, a made up lord. a bit of angst?? - fluffy. unnecessarily long fic, i apologize. i am NOT proud of this one 😭

The air in the great hall of Dragonstone was thick with tension, the stone walls seeming to close in as Queen Rhaenyra paced before the ancient Painted Table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the hearth fire and the soft rustle of her skirts as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her fingers traced the carved coastline of Westeros, lingering over the territories that had fallen to the Greens’ hands. 

"Your Grace," a voice called from beyond the heavy oak doors. "Prince Jacaerys has arrived."

Rhaenyra straightened, composing herself with visible effort. "Send him in," she commanded, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her eyes.

The doors swung open, and Jacaerys Velaryon strode in. At nine-and-ten, he was already a man grown, with the bearing of one much older. His hands rested on his sword as he approached his mother with calm.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "You summoned me?"

Rhaenyra's gaze softened as it fell upon her eldest son. "Jace," she began, then faltered. For a moment, the mask of queenship slipped, revealing the anguish beneath. "I'm afraid I have dire news."

Jace's posture stiffened, bracing himself for whatever blow was to come.

"The Greens have taken Tumbleton," Rhaenyra continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Our hold on the Reach is slipping. If we do not act soon, all will be lost."

Jace nodded gravely. "What would you have me do, Mother? I can fly to Tumbleton on Vermax, rally our forces–"

"No," Rhaenyra cut him off sharply. "I need you here, Jace. What I ask of you... it is not a battle to be fought with dragon fire, but with words and... promises."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his posture once again as he nodded once at his mother, silently promising to fulfill his duty.

"Lord Redfort has offered his support," Rhaenyra said at last. "His armies, his gold, his influence in the Vale. With his backing, we could turn the tide of this war."

Jace's eyes lit up with hope. "That's wonderful news, Mother. Why do you look so troubled?"

Rhaenyra's laugh was bitter and hollow. "Because nothing comes without a price, my son. And Lord Redfort's price is... steep."

Understanding dawned on Jace's face, followed swiftly by a flash of fear that he quickly masked. "What does he want?"

"He wants assurance that his family's loyalty will be rewarded," Rhaenyra said, each word seeming to pain her. "He demands that his grandson be promised the throne."

The implication hung heavy in the air. He felt a tightness in his chest, knowing what this meant for Jace, for Baela, for the future that had been carefully planned since their childhood.

"But... Baela..." Jace's voice was barely audible, a mixture of confusion and growing dread.

"I know," Rhaenyra said, and for a moment her composure cracked entirely. She moved to her son, taking his hands in hers. "My boy, my sweet boy. If there were any other way..."

Jace pulled away, his face a storm of emotions. "There must be another way. We can offer Lord Redfort something else, anything else."

"Don't you think I've tried?" Rhaenyra's voice rose in frustration. "I've offered titles, lands, positions at court. Nothing will sway him. It's this, or we lose everything we've fought for."

Jace turned away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the anguish etched there. "And what of Baela?" he asked at last, "What am I to tell her?"

Rhaenyra's shoulders sagged. "It is duty that will drive us to victory, my son."

"So I am to marry Lord Redfort's granddaughter," Jace said flatly. It wasn't a question.

"His daughter," Rhaenyra corrected gently. "She is but a year younger than you."

Jace's laugh was hollow. "As if that matters. I don't know her. I don't love her."

"Love?" Rhaenyra's voice hardened. "Love is a luxury we cannot afford in times of war, Jacaerys. You are a prince of the realm. Your duty is to your family, to your people. Sometimes that duty requires sacrifice."

Jace's jaw clenched. For a moment, Rhaenyra feared he would refuse outright. But then, slowly, the fight seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"When?" he asked simply.

"Lord Redfort and his daughter will arrive within a fortnight," Rhaenyra said, relief evident in her voice. "The betrothal will be announced immediately, and the wedding will take place as soon as it can be arranged after the war."

Jace nodded mutely, his eyes unfocused, staring at something only he could see. Without another word, he turned and strode from the room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind Jace as he stormed out of the great hall. His mind reeled, the weight of his mother's words pressing down upon him like a physical force. 

Without thinking, his feet carried him to the one place he knew he would find solace – or perhaps, he realized with a pang of guilt, the one place he shouldn't go.

Baela was in the dragon pit, tending to Moondancer. The young dragon chirped softly as she ran her hand over the scales, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. She looked up as Jace approached, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she took in his troubled demeanor.

"Jace?" she called, setting down her hand. "What is wrong?"

For a moment, Jacaerys couldn't speak. He simply stood there, drinking in the sight of her – the way the torchlight glinted off her silver-gold hair, the gentle curve of her lips, the strength and grace in her movements. Everything he was about to lose.

"It's over," he finally managed, his voice hoarse. "Our betrothal. It's... it's been broken."

Baela's eyes widened, but to Jace's surprise, there was no shock in them. Only a deep, resigned sadness. "I see," she said softly. "The alliance with Lord Redfort?"

Jace nodded, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Of course you've heard. Nothing stays secret for long in this damned castle."

“Her Grace mentioned she was working with sending ravens for alliances, I only figured.” she said softly, patting her dragon’s head one last time before taking two steps towards him.

"Jace," Baela said, her voice gentle but firm. "You know as well as I do that this war demands sacrifices from all of us."

Her calm acceptance only fueled his frustration. He began to pace, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Sacrifices? Is that what we're calling it now? Throwing away the betrothal made in honor of my brother’s heirship, everything we've planned for years, all for the sake of some lord's support?"

"It's not just some lord," Baela reminded him. "It's the key to holding the Vale. Without it–"

"I know it!" Jace snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I know what is at stake, Baela. But it is unfair."

Baela stepped closer, her eyes full of understanding and a pain that mirrored his own. "Our duty is to our family, to the realm. Personal happiness... it is a luxury we can't afford right now."

Jacaerys felt the fight drain out of him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. 

Baela reached out, taking his hand in hers. Her touch was warm, familiar, and Jace had to resist the urge to pull her close and never let go. Jacaerys looked at her, marveling at her strength, her composure in the face of this devastating news. 

"How can you be so calm about this?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

A sad smile played at the corners of Baela's lips. "Because one of us has to be," she said. "And because I've always known that our duty might ask this of us one day. It doesn't make it easier, but... I've had time to prepare myself for the possibility."

Jace felt a wave of shame wash over him. Here he was, raging against the unfairness of it all, while Baela faced their shared loss with grace and dignity. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I should be stronger. Like you."

Baela shook her head, squeezing his hand. "You are strong, Jace. But it's alright to be angry, to be hurt. Just... don't let it consume you. The realm needs you. Your mother needs you."

Jace felt a swell of admiration for her, mixed with a deep, aching sorrow for what they were losing. "I don't know if I can do this without you," he admitted.

Baela's expression softened. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. "You can," she assured him. "You must. And I'll be here, Jace. Not as your wife, but as your cousin, your friend, your ally. That will never change."

For a long moment, they stood there, the weight of their shared past and the uncertain future hanging between them. Then, slowly, Jace nodded. "I must ready for my betrothed’s arrival, then.”

The new use of the word felt bitter against his tongue, eyes refusing to meet Baela’s as he uttered the words. 

Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. He knew Baela was right. It was time to face his duty, no matter how much it hurt. With one last look at the woman he had thought would be his future, he turned and walked out of the dragon pit.

The days leading up to Lord Redfort's arrival passed in a blur of mounting tension and barely contained dread for Jacaerys. Each morning, he woke with a heavy heart, the weight of his impending duty pressing down on him like a tangible force. His chambers, usually a sanctuary, felt more like a prison, the stone walls closing in as he counted down the days to the fateful meeting.

He threw himself into his work, training with his sword until his muscles ached and his mind was numb. The clashing of steel, the grunts of exertion, and the rhythm of his footwork became his solace until his hands bled in show of his efforts. But no matter how fiercely he fought, the looming reality of his betrothal was inescapable. His sparring partners, sensing his turmoil, gave him space, their concerned glances only serving to deepen his isolation.

Meals were equally oppressive. The great hall buzzed with whispered conversations and furtive looks. Jacaerys ate in silence, his appetite waning with each passing day. His brothers tried to cheer him with tales of their latest exploits, but their words fell flat, unable to penetrate the fog of his thoughts. Even the usually boisterous presence of his dragon, Vermax, did little to lift his spirits. The bond they shared felt strained, as if the beast sensed his master's inner turmoil.

The evenings were the hardest. As the castle settled into a quiet lull, Jacaerys found himself wandering the halls, seeking solace in familiar places. He often ended up in the dragon pit, watching the majestic creatures in their pens. Baela was always there, her presence a bittersweet comfort. They spoke little, their shared silence a testament to the unspoken pain that lingered between them. Yet he felt as if their bond had not changed one bit.

Often, Baela approached him. Her face was always serene, but her eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own. “This... brooding will only make things harder." she’d tell him. And everytime Jacaerys would nod and mumble about understanding what his duty is. 

Her words, though comforting, did little to ease the ache in his heart. He’d squeeze her hand in silent gratitude, then turn away, retreating to the solitude of his chambers. Sleep was elusive, his dreams haunted by visions of a future that now seemed out of reach.

————

The fortnight passed agonizingly slowly, each day blending into the next. The castle was a hive of activity, preparations for Lord Redfort's arrival consuming everyone's attention. Jacaerys found himself caught in a whirlwind of fittings, rehearsals, and diplomatic meetings. His mother, ever the strategist, drilled into him the importance of this alliance, reminding him of the stakes with every passing moment.

Finally, the day arrived. The great hall was adorned with banners and finery, the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers and polished armor. Jacaerys stood by his mother's side, his expression a mask of stoic resolve. He fidgeted with his fingers, his chest heaving every time he would steal a glance at Baela, who would simply give him a small smile and a supporting nod. 

As the hours passed, anticipation hung in the air like a heavy fog. Jacaerys stood in the great hall, the weight of his impending duty pressing down upon him. His armor gleamed under the torchlight, a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The arrival of Lord Redfort and his retinue was imminent, each passing moment marked by the echoing footsteps in the corridor beyond.

Rhaenyra, resplendent in her queenly attire, stood beside her son with an air of regal composure that belied the storm of emotions beneath. Her eyes occasionally flicked towards Jacaerys, a silent reassurance amidst the grand preparations, but he didn’t meet her gaze. The hall buzzed with whispered conversations and the rustle of silk as courtiers and advisors moved about, ensuring everything was perfect for the crucial meeting.

At last, the doors swung open with a resounding thud, and Lord Redfort entered with measured steps as the maesters announced his name and title. His presence commanded attention – a high lord of the Vale, his face weathered by years of governance and warfare. You walked beside him, your features bore a striking resemblance to your father. Your eyes, however, betrayed a hint of nervousness and curiosity as you glanced around the hall before settling on his.

Jacaerys's heart skipped a beat as his eyes met yours for the first time. You were beautiful, with cascading hair and a determined set to your jaw that spoke of your noble upbringing. He knew your name but little else. And yet, he knew you were not Baela. 

Lord Redfort approached Queen Rhaenyra with a deep bow, which she acknowledged with a nod. 

Your gaze finally settled on the figures at the far end of the hall – Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, regal and formidable, and beside her, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Your breath caught in your throat as you studied your betrothed. He was everything the stories had claimed – tall and handsome, with the striking features of his bloodline. But there was something else, a tension in his stance, a heaviness in his eyes that spoke of inner turmoil.

As your father bowed to the Queen, you sank into a deep curtsy, willing your voice to remain steady as you spoke. "Your Grace, Prince Jacaerys," you said, "It is an honor to be welcomed to Dragonstone."

Queen Rhaenyra's voice was warm but tinged with an underlying steel as she replied, "We are most pleased to welcome you and your father, Lady Y/n. Your presence here marks a new chapter in the alliance between our houses."

You rose from your curtsy, your eyes meeting Jacaerys's once more. His mother turned to look at him, urging him to speak. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, quickly masked by the cool formality of his response. 

"The honor is ours, we hope you find Dragonstone to your liking."

You couldn't help but notice the way Jacaerys's gaze occasionally drifted to a silver-haired young woman standing off to the side. The look they shared spoke volumes – a mixture of pain, resignation, and something deeper that made your heart sink. This, you realized, must be Lady Baela, the woman who had held your betrothed's heart until duty tore them apart.

The weight of the situation settled more heavily upon you. The challenge before you seemed insurmountable – to win the trust, perhaps even the affection, of a man whose heart clearly belonged to another.

You gazed up to your father, his serious expression settled on the Queen, arms stiffly linked and resting on his chest. “I assume my wishes were clear, Your Grace. I do not wish to impose but…”

“They were, Lord Redfort. And I assure you, your proposal is being given the utmost consideration.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment, his expression almost unreadable as he blinked at you, trying to gauge your own thoughts on the matter. You inhaled deeply as his eyes moved to Baela’s once again, you followed his train of sight.

Baela’s chest tightened once your eyes met, yours apologetic and Jacaerys’ hurt.

As the negotiations drew to a close, Queen Rhaenyra announced the betrothal formally. "Let it be known," she proclaimed, her voice carrying authority and finality, "that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Lady Y/n Redfort are betrothed in the sight of gods and men."

The words hung in the air, sealing the fate of all involved. Jacaerys glanced at you, his eyes conflicted yet resigned. You offered him a small, sympathetic smile, understanding the weight he carried upon his shoulders. He simply offered a tight-lipped smile before he followed after his mother.

Baela’s eyes traced his path down the hall, a sigh escaping her lips as she approached you. “I will walk you to your chambers, let you settle in properly.”

As you walked with Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her presence was a calming influence amidst the turmoil swirling within you. The castle walls seemed to echo with the weight of the recent betrothal announcement, yet Baela's gentle demeanor offered a brief respite from the tension.

"I hope your journey here was not too arduous, Lady Y/n," Baela said softly, her voice carrying a genuine concern.

You nodded, grateful for her kindness. "It was quite pleasant… I still have to get acquainted with the change of weather, though.”

She moved to link her arm with yours, the gesture surprised you, awaiting resentment and coldness from her after the broken betrothal between her and the prince. 

"Dragonstone can be quite humid to newcomers", Baela continued as she led you through the winding corridors of Dragonstone. Her touch was reassuring, her smile sincere.

"You'll find the climate more forgiving as you settle in," she assured you, her voice gentle. "It takes some time to get used to the island's rhythms, but there's a beauty to it once you do."

Her words offered a small measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty. You glanced at her, noting the resilience in her demeanor despite the obvious sadness in her eyes. "Thank you, Lady Baela," you said sincerely. "I appreciate your kindness."

Baela smiled softly. "Please, call me Baela.”

As you walked alongside Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her arm linked with yours, you couldn't help but marvel at her composure. Here was a woman who had just lost her betrothal to the man you were now set to marry, yet she showed you nothing but kindness and understanding.

"Baela," you said softly, testing the name on your lips. It felt strange to address her so familiarly, given the circumstances, but her gentle demeanor made it feel right somehow.

She glanced at you, her silver-gold hair catching the torchlight as she smiled warmly. "Yes?"

"I hope... I hope we can be allies," you said earnestly, “Despite the circumstances.”

Baela's expression softened, a mix of understanding and gentle sadness in her eyes. She squeezed your arm lightly, her touch reassuring.

"Of course we can," she said, her voice warm. "In fact, I hope we can be more than just allies. Friends, even. We're in this together, after all, as family."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you at her words. The tension that had been building in your chest since your arrival began to ease slightly.

"I'm glad," you admitted. "I was worried... well, given the situation..."

Baela shook her head, a rueful smile playing at her lips. "The circumstances are what they are. We can't change them, but we can choose how we respond to them. And I choose to see you as a friend, not a rival."

She stopped in front of two big wooden doors, thick and heavy at the sight. “Here we are,” she said, reaching for the handles before getting interrupted by one of the handmaids.

“Allow me, Lady Baela.” the girl mumbled, pushing open the doors before you. 

As the heavy wooden doors swung open, you were greeted by a spacious chamber bathed in warm candlelight. The room was adorned with rich tapestries depicting dragons in flight, their colors muted yet regal. A large four-poster bed dominated one wall, its dark wood intricately carved with scales and flames.

"These will be your chambers," Baela said, gesturing for you to enter. "I hope you'll find them comfortable."

You stepped inside, your eyes wide as you took in your new surroundings. A writing desk stood near a window overlooking the sea, and a cozy sitting area with plush chairs was arranged before a hearth. Everything spoke of luxury and careful craftsmanship.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, turning to Baela with genuine appreciation. 

Baela smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "The servants have already unpacked your belongings," she said, gesturing to a trunk at the foot of the bed. "But if you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

You nodded, your fingers trailing over the smooth surface of a nearby table. "Thank you, Baela."

She stepped closer, her expression serious. "I know this can't be easy for you," she said softly. "Coming to a new place, betrothed to a man you don't know, in the middle of a war. But if you ever need someone to converse with, simply ask for my presence and I shall come to you."

With a final nod, she departed, leaving you alone in your new chambers. As the door closed behind her, you let out a long, shaky breath, the events of the day finally catching up with you.

As you settled into your new chambers, the weight of the day's events began to sink in. The journey from the Vale, the formal introductions, the palpable tension in the great hall – it all swirled in your mind like a tempest. You sank onto the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns carved into the wooden frame.

Your thoughts drifted to Prince Jacaerys. His handsome features were etched in your memory, but it was the sadness in his eyes that truly captured your attention. You had known, of course, about his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. It was common knowledge throughout the Seven Kingdoms. But seeing the pain etched on both their faces made the reality of the situation hit home.

A soft knock at the door startled you from your reverie. "Come in," you called, smoothing your skirts as you stood.

A young handmaid entered, carrying a tray laden with food and a steaming pot of tea. "Begging your pardon, m'lady," she said with a curtsy. "Queen Rhaenyra thought you might prefer to dine in your chambers this evening, to rest from your journey."

You nodded, grateful for the consideration. "Thank you," you said softly. "Please convey my gratitude to Her Grace."

As the handmaid set up the meal on a small table near the window, you found yourself drawn to the view outside. Dragonstone was unlike anything you had ever seen. The castle seemed to grow out of the very rock of the island, its towers reaching towards the sky like the necks of the dragons it was named for. In the fading light of day, you could see the churning sea beyond, its waves crashing against the rocky shore.

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" the handmaid asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned, offering her a small smile. "No, thank you. That will be all."

As the door closed behind her, you were once again left alone with your thoughts. You picked at the food, your appetite diminished by the swirling emotions within you. The tea, at least, was a comfort, its warmth spreading through you as you sipped.

Your mind wandered to the task ahead of you. How were you supposed to forge a connection with a man whose heart clearly belonged to another? The political implications of this marriage weighed heavily on your shoulders. Your father's expectations, the need for this alliance to succeed – it all seemed impossibly daunting.

You’d heard all about the making of a babe, about lust and love, you’d read all about it. But the thought of bearing the babe of a man in love with another made your stomach turn, making your throat tighten. 

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays filtering through the windows of your chamber. You rose early, determined to start this new chapter of your life with purpose. As you dressed, choosing a gown in the deep red and white of your house, you steeled yourself for the day ahead.

A knock at your door announced the arrival of a servant, there to get you into your skirts and come to escort you to breakfast. As you made your way through the winding halls of Dragonstone, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. 

The great hall was already bustling with activity when you arrived. Queen Rhaenyra sat at the high table, deep in conversation with her advisors. Your eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Prince Jacaerys, seated at a smaller table with his siblings.

Taking a deep breath, you approached. "Good morning, Your Grace," you said, dipping into a curtsy. "I hope I'm not intruding."

Jacaerys looked up, surprise flickering across his features before he schooled his expression into one of polite neutrality. "My lady," he said, rising to his feet. "Please, join us."

As you took the seat he offered, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from his younger brothers. Joffrey, the middle child, offered you a friendly smile, while the younger kids regarded you with wide-eyed wonder.

"Did you sleep well?" Jacaerys asked, his tone formal but not unkind.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I did, thank you. The chambers are lovely."

An awkward silence fell over the table, broken only by the clatter of cutlery and the low hum of conversation from the surrounding tables. You busied yourself with your breakfast, stealing glances at Jacaerys when you thought he wasn't looking.

He seemed distracted, his gaze often drifting to the far side of the hall where Lady Baela’s seat was empty, next to her siste’s Rhaena. Each time, a flicker of pain would cross his face before he caught himself and returned his attention to his meal.

"Is it true you can ride a horse as well as any knight?" little Joffrey suddenly piped up, his eyes bright with curiosity as he stared up at you, his small hand reaching for your skirts before Jace pulled it away.

You blinked, surprised by the question. "I... yes, I suppose I can," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "My father insisted I learn from a young age."

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly. "Can you teach me? Jace is always too busy."

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, but you saw an opportunity to bridge the awkward gap between you.

"I'd be happy to," you said, your smile widening. "If it's alright with your brother, of course."

For the first time that morning, Jacaerys met your gaze directly. Something akin to gratitude flickered in his eyes. "That would be... kind of you," he said softly.

Silence filled the air once again, awkward glances shared between you and Jacaerys as he quietly picked at his plate. 

As the uncomfortable silence stretched, the door to the great hall creaked open, drawing everyone's attention. Lady Baela entered, her graceful presence immediately commanding the room. 

Jacaerys's eyes lit up momentarily as he watched her approach, but the flicker of hope was quickly replaced by the familiar sadness. Baela's eyes scanned the room, locking onto his for a heartbeat before shifting to you. A small, serene smile graced her lips as she made her way to your table.

"Good morrow," she greeted, her voice as warm as the morning sun streaming through the windows. 

Baela took a seat beside you, her presence a soothing balm to the tension in the air. She nodded to Jacaerys, lingering their locked gaze in silence, before turning her attention to you.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, her tone genuinely concerned.

"I did, thank you," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "The chambers are lovely."

Baela's smile widened. "I'm glad to hear that. Have you had time to explore the place?"

You straightened your back, glancing at your betrothed and then back to her. You shook your head. "No, I haven't had the chance yet," you admitted, trying to keep your voice light.

Baela's eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm. "Then it's settled. I'll give you a tour after breakfast. There are some wonderful places I think you'll enjoy."

Jacaerys felt a surge of confusion as he watched Baela's calm and cheerful demeanor. Her willingness to extend kindness and camaraderie to you, the woman set to marry the man she once loved, was baffling. He had expected resentment, anger, or at least some form of cold distance. Instead, Baela seemed genuinely at ease, her smile unwavering.

His thoughts churned as he tried to make sense of her behavior. Was she truly alright with the broken betrothal, or was this a mask she wore to hide her pain? Jacaerys couldn't tell. He stole a glance at you, noting the slight relaxation in your posture as you engaged with Baela. The two of you seemed to connect in a way he hadn't anticipated. 

Baela's strength had always been a source of comfort, but now it felt like a reminder of his own perceived weakness. His own frustration clouding his judgment as hers only brought her closer to you.

Breakfast continued, the conversations light and courteous. You and Baela exchanged pleasantries about Dragonstone's architecture, its history, and its dragons. Joffrey's enthusiasm brightened the table as he peppered you with questions about the Vale and your life there. Jacaerys found himself mostly silent, observing the dynamic between you and Baela as he ate small bites of his food, dreading his leave. 

When the meal concluded, Baela rose from her seat, her eyes meeting Jace’s. "I hope you'll join us on the tour, Jace," she said softly, her voice holding a note of encouragement.

Jacaerys hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He glanced at you, noting the hopeful glimmer in your eyes, then back at Baela, who was giving him a look, telling him to go. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. 

“If I am not busy, yes.”

Again, with linked arms, Baela urged her twin to join you both as she talked your ear off about the halls. Rhaena quickly following suit and giving you a polite smile. 

As Baela led you away for the tour, Jacaerys remained behind, his expression conflicted. He watched as you disappeared around a corner, arm-in-arm with Baela and Rhaena. A moment passed before he made his decision, quietly following at a distance.

Throughout the tour, Jacaerys kept to the shadows, observing the easy rapport developing between you and Baela. His brow furrowed as he watched Baela's animated gestures, her warm smiles, and your growing comfort in her presence. The lack of tension or resentment between you both stirred a complicated mix of emotions within him. He watched you laugh, hand holding onto Rhaena as she pointed at the dragon pit.

As the day wore on and you retired to your chambers, Jacaerys found himself restless, pacing the halls of Dragonstone. The sun had long since set when he finally sought out Baela, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

You were about to drift off to sleep when muffled voices from the corridor caught your attention. Curiosity piqued, you crept to the door, quietly prying it open, the voices getting clearer.

"How can you be so... so accepting about all of this?" Jacaerys' voice, usually so controlled, trembled with barely contained frustration.

"What would you have me do, Jace?" Baela's response was measured, but there was an edge to her tone. "Treat her unkindly? Refuse to acknowledge her presence?"

"No, of course not, but..." Jacaerys faltered. "You act as if nothing has changed. As if our betrothal wasn't just shattered for the sake of politics less than two days ago."

There was a pause, and when Baela spoke again, her voice was softer. "Everything has changed, Jace. But that doesn't mean we must let bitterness consume us. She is not to blame for this situation."

"I know that," Jacaerys snapped, then sighed heavily, you could hear his frustration. "I know. But seeing you with her, so friendly, so at ease... it's like you don't even care that we're no longer..."

"Don't," Baela's voice was sharp now. "Don't you dare suggest that I don't care. We both knew our duty might require sacrifices. I'm choosing to face this with grace, for all our sakes."

"And I'm just supposed to accept that? To watch you befriend the woman I'm being forced to marry, while my heart..." Jacaerys's voice broke off.

"Your heart will heal, Jace," Baela said gently. "As will mine. But we must give it time, and we must not punish Lady Y/n for circumstances beyond her control."

The silence that followed was heavy. You held your breath, straining to hear more.

"I don't know if I can do that, Baela," Jacaerys finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You can," Baela assured him. "And who knows? Perhaps in time, you might find that Lady Y/n..."

"Don't," Jacaerys cut her off. "Please, just... don't. I could never."

You heard footsteps retreating, growing fainter until they disappeared entirely. Slowly, you backed away from the door, your mind reeling from what you'd overheard.

As you stood there, hidden in the shadows of the corridor, your heart sank with each word that passed between Jacaerys and Baela. Guilt gnawed at you, a bitter realization settling in your chest. You hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn’t ignore the raw emotions laid bare before you.

Jacaerys’s voice, tinged with frustration and hurt, echoed in your mind. His words stung deeply, cutting through the uncertainty that had clouded your thoughts since arriving at Dragonstone.

Any chance of him growing comfortable, even forming an attachment to you, vanished before your eyes at his words. 

Locking the door, you sat on your bed, knees to your chest as you felt your breathing break its steady pace. The rawness of Jacaerys's emotions and his adamant refusal to even consider the possibility of developing feelings for you left a hollow ache in your chest.

Rising from your bed, you moved to the window, gazing out at the rocky shores of Dragonstone. The sea churned restlessly, mirroring the turmoil in your heart. You had known this marriage was born of political necessity, but hearing Jacaerys's words had driven home the reality of your situation in a way nothing else could have.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. "Come in," you called, turning from the window.

Baela entered, her silver-gold hair catching the soft candle light. Her lips faltered as she took in your drawn expression. "I did not know you were awake."

For a moment, you considered confessing what you'd overheard, but something held you back. Instead, you forced a small smile. "Just a restless night," you said. "I'm still adjusting to the sound of the waves, I suppose."

Baela's eyes searched your face, and you got the sense she didn't quite believe you. But she didn't press the issue. “I… I cannot find sleep either, I figured I’d come to see how you’re holding up with your stay.”

As you looked closer at Baela in the dim candlelight, you noticed the telltale signs of recent tears. Her eyes were slightly puffy and rimmed with red, and there was a lingering sadness in her expression that she couldn't quite hide. Her usually perfect composure seemed fragile, as if it might crack at any moment. 

Baela's shoulders were slumped ever so slightly, betraying a weariness that went beyond mere physical exhaustion. Her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of her nightgown, a nervous gesture that spoke volumes about her emotional state. Despite her attempt at a smile, there was a vulnerability in her gaze that tugged at your heart.

In that moment, you realized that Baela wasn't just here to check on you – she was seeking comfort and companionship herself. The strong, graceful woman who had been your guide and support since your arrival now looked like she desperately needed a friend.

You took two steps towards her, offering your hand, which she hesitantly took, and guiding her to sit on the edge of your bed. 

For a while, neither of you spoke. You sensed Baela struggling to maintain her composure, her facade of strength cracking ever so slightly. Her shoulders trembled imperceptibly, a telltale sign of the storm raging within.

Without a word, you moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Baela stiffened at first, surprised by your gesture, but then she leaned into your touch, a silent admission of her vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke, “I do not wish for your burden.”

"It's not your burden to bear," Baela whispered hoarsely, her voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault. Jace is just… still adjusting to the idea."

Baela remained silent for a long moment, her gaze distant. Her fingers traced the intricate embroidery on her sleeve, a nervous habit betraying her inner turmoil.

"I've known Jace my whole life," Baela began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We grew up together, shared dreams of the future, of ruling Dragonstone side by side. Our betrothal... it felt like destiny."

You tightened your embrace, offering silent support as Baela's voice wavered and your guilt only grew in your chest. She leaned into you, seeking solace in your presence.

"I care for him, Y/n," Baela admitted, her voice trembling with unspoken emotion. "And seeing him in pain... knowing that our future together is no longer possible... I can't bear it."

Tears welled up in Baela's eyes once more, and this time she didn't hold them back. They flowed freely, silent rivulets down her cheeks, marking the depth of her sorrow.

"I would rather see him find happiness with you," Baela confessed in a choked whisper, her words heavy with resignation. "Than watch him cling to a love that can never be. He deserves that much, after everything. He deserves a love that is possible, that is as just and fair as it is real."

Her admission hung in the air between you, a bittersweet revelation tinged with heartache. You squeezed her hand gently, your own heart heavy with empathy for her plight. You watched as she curled up to the sheets of your bed, breathing steadying as she let sleep take over her. 

You tried to push away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm you. After all, you hadn’t asked for this betrothal any more than Jacaerys or Baela had asked for their separation. Yet, here you were, caught in the middle of their lingering emotions and unspoken regrets.

—————

The following weeks unfolded in a haze of polite interactions and strained attempts at forging connections. You accompanied Jacaerys to meetings and gatherings, each moment underscored by the awkward tension that hung between you. His gaze, when it met yours, was distant and guarded, a far cry from the warmth you had hoped to find.

Meanwhile, Baela remained a steady presence in your life. She showed you the hidden corners of Dragonstone, regaled you with stories of its history, and offered quiet words of encouragement when doubt threatened to consume you. Her kindness was a lifeline amidst the uncertainty that gripped your heart.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in your own betrothal. Every smile from Jacaerys felt forced, every conversation a careful dance around the unspoken truths that loomed between you. You wondered if he saw you as a reminder of what could have been, or if he simply saw you at all.

Jace and Baela kept their distance, exchanging lingering stares, finding comfort in each other but maintaining their bond as a friendship, an impossible love threatened by duty.

You felt like a young girl with a crush on a soldier, as Rhaena and Baela attempted to bring Jacaerys closer to you. Yet, it ate at you that Baela tried to conceal her own feelings to prioritize yours and Jace's.

You found solace in unexpected places. Young Joffrey had taken to following you around the castle, bombarding you with questions about the Vale and begging for horse-riding lessons. His innocent enthusiasm was a balm to your troubled heart, and you found yourself looking forward to the time you spent with him.

One crisp morning, as you were brushing down your horse in the stables, Joffrey came bounding in, his face flushed with excitement.

"Please!" he called out, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste as he ran little steps towards you. He joined his hands in a plea. "Can we go riding today? Please?"

You couldn't help but smile at his eagerness. 

Jace watched from the courtyard. His expression was unreadable, but for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes – curiosity, perhaps, or a hint of softness.

The moment passed quickly as he turned away, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined it. Pushing the thought aside, you focused on guiding Joffrey through his riding lesson. With a hand on his lower back, holding his upwards, and another holding onto the leather leash, you guided the excited child through the gardens.

As you guided Joffrey's pony through the gardens, the younger prince's laughter filled the air. 

"Look!" Joffrey exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a butterfly fluttering past. "Can we chase it?"

You chuckled, gently reining in his excitement. "Remember, my prince, we must always be gentle with creatures smaller than us. Let's watch it instead, shall we?"

As you stood there, Joffrey perched atop his pony and you by his side, observing the delicate dance of the butterfly, you felt a presence behind you. Turning slightly, you saw Jacaerys approaching, his steps hesitant but purposeful.

"Having fun, Joff?" he asked, ruffling his younger brother's hair affectionately.

Joffrey beamed at his older brother, reaching to hold his hand, almost tumbling off of the animal’s loin. "She is teaching me to ride, Jace! She says I'll be as good as you one day!"

A small smile tugged at Jacaerys's lips. "Is that so?" He turned his gaze to you, something unreadable in his eyes. "You're good with him."

You felt a warmth creep into your cheeks at his words. "He makes it easy," you replied softly. "He's a quick learner."

Joffrey huffed as he tugged on the leather leash in your hands, “When will I be allowed to ride on my own?”

Jace let out a soft laugh, the sound unexpected and somehow comforting. "In time, Joff. You need to master the basics first."

The younger boy pouted but didn't argue, his attention quickly drawn back to the butterfly that had settled on a nearby flower.

You looked at Jacaerys, noticing the shadows under his eyes, the lines of stress etched into his handsome features. The brief moments of kindness he had shown you lately had been few and far between, but they gave you a glimmer of hope.

"Would you like to join us?" you asked tentatively, unsure of how he would respond.

Jacaerys hesitated, glancing between you and Joffrey. Finally, he nodded, a small, reluctant smile on his lips. "I could use a break from all the meetings."

As the three of you walked through the gardens, the tension between you and Jacaerys seemed to ease, replaced by a tentative camaraderie. Joffrey chattered on about the lessons you had been giving him, his enthusiasm infectious.

You caught Jacaerys stealing glances at you, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. It was as if the presence of his younger brother had created a bridge between you, allowing him to lower his guard just a little.

Sadly, he’d stayed quiet the whole time, only nodding along and responding to his brother’s enthusiasm. 

For a moment, the three of you stood there in comfortable silence, watching as Joffrey tentatively guided his pony a few steps forward. You fixed your skirts, arms dropping to your side as the small prince struggled to get down from the pony, refusing to get any help. Then, to your surprise, Jacaerys spoke again.

"I... I was wondering if you might like to join me for a ride later," he said, his voice low enough that Joffrey couldn't hear. "There's a cove on the far side of the island that's quite beautiful at night."

Your heart skipped a beat at his invitation. "I'd like that," you replied, offering him a small smile.

As Jacaerys nodded and turned to leave, you caught sight of Baela watching from a nearby balcony. Her expression turned into a supportive smile when she noticed your gaze. The guilt that had become your constant companion surged once more.

Later that evening, as you prepared for your ride with Jacaerys, Baela appeared at your chamber door.

"Here," she said, holding out a cloak with a smile. "The winds can be fierce near the cove. You'll need this."

As you accepted the cloak, your fingers brushed hers. "Baela," you began, your voice thick with emotion. "I–"

She shook her head, cutting you off. "Don't," she said softly. “Jace is trying, give him a chance."

“Baela,” you began again, your voice softer this time, “I just don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. I’m trying to understand where we all fit into this... tangled mess.”

She shook her head, “I feel no pain if you and Jace are well.”

"But I don't want you to feel like you're losing something," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baela's expression softened, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "Jace and I... we were a dream of what could have been. But dreams change. Life moves on, and so must we. I can't hold onto something that was never meant to be."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you," you whispered, unable to find the words to express the depth of your appreciation.

Baela squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. "Go," she urged. "Don't keep him waiting."

With a heavy heart, you draped the cloak around your shoulders and made your way to the stables where Jacaerys was waiting. The night air was cool and crisp, just like Baela had said, the stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope in the inky sky. 

Jacaerys stood by his horse, his figure silhouetted against the faint light of the torches. His expression was thoughtful, almost pensive, as he glanced up at the sky. When he noticed your approach, his eyes softened slightly, almost as if he had been trying to get his mind ready.

The moonlight cast a silver sheen on his dark hair, lending him an almost ethereal quality. 

“I forgot to tell you to get a cloak,” he said, quickly noticing the cloth that covered your body, “you must have read my mind."

"Baela thought of it," you replied, mounting your horse. Jacaerys tried to hide the frown that appeared on his face for a second. The saddle creaked beneath you, and you patted the horse's neck, feeling its warmth through the leather gloves.

Why would Baela want to push him into another woman’s arms? The question echoed in his mind, gnawing at his thoughts like a persistent itch. 

Jacaerys’s thoughts churned beneath his calm exterior. Why was Baela so insistent on pushing him toward you? He glanced sideways at you, taking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your face, the way you seemed lost in your own thoughts. There was a delicate vulnerability about you, a quiet strength that he couldn’t quite grasp.

You rode in silence for a while, the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the distant roar of the sea the only sounds breaking the night. 

His gaze flickered over to you again. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he noticed your serene demeanor, your focus entirely on the path ahead. He couldn’t deny that there was something about you that stirred a part of him he thought was long dormant – a hope for something genuine amidst the political maneuvering and familial obligations.

Breaking the silence, Jacaerys spoke, his voice carrying a note of curiosity he couldn’t completely mask. “You seem at ease. Is the ride helping you clear your mind?”

You glanced over at him, the soft glow from your lantern casting a gentle light on your face. “It is,” you said, offering a small, genuine smile. “I don’t have siblings, like you do. I didn’t have much to be entertained by, growing up. I found solace in rides like this”

Jacaerys nodded, his curiosity piqued. "What else did you do to pass the time?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You chuckled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "I used to sneak out to watch the soldiers train in the courtyard."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that so?"

You nodded, warming to the subject. "Oh yes. When I was too bored to read I would hide behind the barrels near the training yard and watch the men practice their swordplay."

"Did you ever try it yourself?" Jacaerys asked, genuine interest in his voice.

You laughed softly. "I did, actually. I'd sneak a wooden practice sword from the armory and try to mimic their movements in secret. I must have looked ridiculous, flailing about in my chambers."

Jacaerys let out a low chuckle, the sound warming you more than the cloak around your shoulders. "I can picture it," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Did you ever get caught?"

"Once," you admitted, a blush creeping into your cheeks. "My father walked in just as I was attempting a particularly dramatic lunge. I nearly toppled into my dressing table."

Jacaerys laughed outright at that, the sound echoing in the night air. It was the first time you'd heard him laugh so freely, and the sound made your heart skip a beat.

"What did your father say?" he asked, still smiling.

You sighed dramatically, "He was scandalized, of course. Grounded me from sneaking past the courtyard for life.”

As your horses ambled along the moonlit path, Jacaerys's laughter subsided into a warm smile. You loved the sound, you realized, not having heard it often because of you, moreso because of his family.

 "Well, if you're still interested in watching swordplay, you're welcome to observe our training sessions here on Dragonstone. No need for sneaking or hiding behind barrels."

You felt a flutter of excitement at his offer. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

Jacaerys shook his head, his expression softening. "Not at all. In fact, I think the men here might appreciate having an audience. It tends to make them show off a bit more."

You chuckled, feeling more at ease than you had in weeks. "I'd like that very much. Thank you, Jacaerys."

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that hadn't been there before. 

As the path curved towards the cove, the moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow. The sea's rhythmic waves against the rocky shore provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. Jacaerys's earlier curiosity about Baela's motives still lingered in his mind, but for now, he chose to focus on the present moment. There would be time to unravel those thoughts later.

“Um…” you started, unsure whether your question was intrusive or not, Jace’s head turned to look at you again. 

“Yes?”

“I was wondering… about the dragons,” 

Jacaerys's eyes lit up with interest at the mention of dragons. "What would you like to know?" he asked.

“I’ve never seen one up-close.” you felt rather embarrassed as your cheeks flushed, quickly turning your head to look ahead of you as Jacaerys bit back a smile. “Would you like to?”

Your heart quickened at his question, and you met his gaze, your excitement barely contained. "I would love to," you replied, unable to hide the enthusiasm in your voice.

Jacaerys smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We'll visit the dragon pit tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to Vermax."

The path towards the cove became narrower, the sea breeze carrying a salty tang that invigorated your senses. Jacaerys's expression held a mixture of amusement and anticipation, the weight of the earlier conversation lifting slightly.

As the cove came into view, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, Jacaerys turned to you, his eyes reflecting the silvery light. "Vermax hatched when I was just a baby," he began, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “We grew together. I am sure he will be kind to you.”

The connection he described stirred something within you. You felt a growing sense of anticipation for the meeting with Vermax, your excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness at the thought of standing near a dragon.

As you reached the edge of the cove, the waves crashed gently against the shore, their rhythmic sound creating a soothing backdrop. You dismounted your horses, your boots sinking slightly into the soft sand. The moonlight cast a silvery sheen over everything, making the scene almost magical.

Even after having spent long in Dragonstone, the cold breeze still hadn’t made peace with you, you held the cloak tighter to your body in hopes of warmth. The chill seemed to seep through the layers, but the beauty of the cove and the company beside you provided a warmth of their own.

Jacaerys led you to a rocky outcrop, a perfect vantage point from which to watch the waves crash and froth against the shoreline. His hand was holding the sleeve of your cloak as he walked you, not ready to hold your hand just yet, Baela still somehow present in his thoughts. 

Jace’s gaze was fixed on the horizon, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, the earlier conversation about Vermax fading into the backdrop as he wrestled with his own internal conflicts. You could sense the weight of Baela's memory lingering in his mind, an echo of feelings that he was trying to reconcile with the present.

He turned to you, his expression softening. “It’s a beautiful spot, isn’t it? I’ve always found it calming here, away from everything else.”

You hummed, hands going back to pressing the cloak against your shivering body, regretting not having worn more skirts for the night. “It’s beautiful.”

A small smile touched Jacaerys’s lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed to be searching for the right words, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to a more introspective side.

“Are you cold?”

“A little, yes. I should’ve worn a thicker dress.”

Jacaerys’s eyes flickered with concern as he took in your shivering form, the chill of the night evidently seeping through your cloak. The warmth of his earlier smile faded into a more serious expression.

“Come with me.” he said, his voice soft with empathy. 

He guided you away from the edge of the cove, leading you towards a more sheltered spot further inland. The sea breeze, though still present, seemed to lose its bite as you moved away from the open shore.

As you walked, Jacaerys began to explain. “The rocks here are a bit more protected from the wind, and they get the heat from the sun during the day, it retains some warmth even at night.”

You followed him, hopeful by the promise of warmth. The path became less rugged and more stable, leading to a small, secluded nook nestled between two large boulders. 

Jacaerys gestured towards the alcove with a reassuring nod. “This spot should be much warmer. It’s better than standing out in the open.”

You stepped into the alcove, trailing behind him, feeling a noticeable difference in temperature. The wind’s bite was indeed diminished, and the moss underfoot felt soothing against your tired feet. The warmth was a welcome relief, and you sighed contentedly as you settled into the corner of the nook.

Jacaerys took a seat beside you, maintaining a respectful distance but close enough to share the modest warmth of the alcove. His gaze softened as he looked at you, his earlier concerns about the chill replaced by a more focused attentiveness.

"Do you miss your home?" Jacaerys asked, breaking the silence, his voice gentle.

You considered his question, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "Sometimes," you admitted. "But I've got good company here."

Jacaerys studied you for a moment, his gaze contemplative. The alcove, with its comforting warmth and shielded position, seemed to offer a haven for both of you – a temporary retreat from the complexities of the world outside.

A faint smile tugged at Jacaerys’s lips as he broke the silence. “Joffrey’s obsessed with you, you know?”

You looked at him, curiosity piqued with a laugh. “Is he?”

Jacaerys nodded, his fingers absently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “He always talks about you.”

“He’s rather taken with you, I would think.”

You laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the quiet of the alcove. “He’s a very kind child.”

Jacaerys nodded, his expression warm and approving. “He’s always full of stories about you – how kind you are, how brave you seem. It’s quite endearing, really.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “That’s sweet of him.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, the warmth of the alcove cocooning you both in its gentle embrace. The night outside seemed distant, its chill muted by the sanctuary you’d found together.

Jacaerys broke the silence once more, bringing his knees to his chest and staring ahead at the sea. “Baela’s been kind to you,” you couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement so you simply nodded.

“Very, she’s been really welcoming to me,” you replied, trying to match the sincerity of his tone. “I appreciate her kindness more than I can express.”

Jacaerys sighed softly, the sound barely audible above the distant crash of waves.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, the warmth of the alcove creating a peaceful setting around you. 

Jacaerys’s mention of Baela lingered between you like a delicate echo, and you could see the concern in his eyes. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, but it was clear he was wrestling with his own emotions.

“You’ve been a good friend to her since you arrived,” Jacaerys said again, his voice soft but edged with a tinge of regret. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

The sincerity of his words struck a chord, and though you had tried to offer comfort, the mention of Baela’s hurt still gnawed at you. You understood that Jacaerys’s feelings were complex, his history with Baela casting a long shadow over the present.

You searched for something comforting to say, but the silence that followed was soothing in its own way. 

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “Sometimes it’s hard to balance past connections with the present. I suppose I’ve been struggling with that lately. For that, I apologize.”

“It’s never easy to reconcile what was with what is. I imagine it must be even harder when you care about the people involved.”

He nodded, a wistful smile touching his lips. “You are to be my wife.”

Jace’s admission hung in the air like a fragile, unspoken promise. His gaze held yours, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and resolve that seemed to shimmer in the soft moonlight. The mention of your forthcoming union brought a new layer of gravity to the conversation, the implications settling heavily between you.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Despite the complexities of… my past betrothal, my commitment to you is sincere. I promise to give you a happy marriage. I want to give you a future where you feel valued, cherished, and at peace. As any wife should.”

His words carried a gravity that made your heart flutter. The sincerity in his eyes, combined with the warmth of the alcove, created a moment of shared hope and promise.

Neither of you spoke until the breeze caught up to the warmer spot, indicating the deep hours of the night. “We shall get back. I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.” he mumbled.

You nodded, the thought of returning to the comfort of the castle appealing after the night’s lingering cold. The promise of a future together still resonated within you, a beacon of warmth amidst the crisp night air.

Jacaerys rose smoothly, offering you a hand as you stood. The gesture was simple but meaningful, a small act of support that spoke volumes to you. His hand was warm against yours, a comforting presence as you prepared to return to the castle. 

Together, you made your way out of the alcove, the cool night air greeting you with a gentle caress as you retraced your steps back to the horses.

The path to the castle was bathed in the soft light of dawn, the horizon beginning to glow with the first hints of morning. He led the way, his presence a reassuring constant beside you as the path darkened, the night making it harder to see. 

Jace offered to guard both of your horses back, while you prepared for your chambers.

As you stepped inside, a lively chatter greeted you, echoing through the stone corridors. Baela and Rhaena, vibrant and full of energy, were waiting for you near the entrance hall. Their faces lit up with excitement, their eyes sparkling with curiosity as they spotted you approaching.

“There you are!” Baela exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. She hurried towards you, followed closely by Rhaena, who wore an equally eager expression.

“You’ve been out almost all night,” Rhaena added, her tone filled with a mix of teasing and genuine interest. 

“We took a stroll to the cove,” you said. “It was a peaceful night. We talked, and enjoyed the quiet. It was... pleasant.”

Baela and Rhaena listened intently, their expressions shifting from anticipation to satisfaction. Baela’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she nudged you gently. “I hope Jacaerys was a good companion. We wouldn’t want you to think poorly of Dragonstone just because of a chilly night.”

You chuckled, feeling a blush of warmth spread across your cheeks at the attention. “He was,”

As you walked towards your chamber’s doors, Baela’s excitement seemed almost infectious. Yet, despite the outward cheer, you couldn’t shake a lingering uncertainty. Baela’s reactions were hard to read. 

She turned to you with a smile that seemed almost too perfect. “I’m glad you had a good night, it is important for you two to spend time together.”

Her words were kind, but the subtext felt layered. You couldn’t tell if she was giving her blessing wholeheartedly or if she was still processing her own feelings about Jacaerys. The complexity of their shared past, intertwined with the new future you were all stepping into, made the situation delicate.

As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The night had been full of unexpected moments and conflicting emotions. Jacaerys's promise of a happy marriage still echoed in your mind, filling you with hope. Yet, the sadness you'd glimpsed in Baela's eyes reminded you of the complicated web of relationships you'd stepped into.

You changed into your nightgown and slipped into bed, your mind whirling with thoughts of moonlit coves, dragon pits, and the promise of a future yet to unfold.

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays streaming through your window and gently rousing you from sleep. As you blinked awake, the events of the previous night came flooding back – the moonlit ride, the intimate conversation with Jacaerys in the alcove, and the promise of meeting Vermax today.

A mix of excitement and nervousness fluttered in your stomach as you rose and began to prepare for the day. You chose a sturdy riding dress, practical yet flattering, and braided your hair to keep it out of your face. As you fastened a cloak around your shoulders, a soft knock sounded at your door.

"Come in," you called, expecting to see one of the handmaids.

Instead, it was Jacaerys who entered, looking slightly hesitant but with a warm smile on his face. His day clothes were already on, a red cape falling from his shoulders.

 "Good morrow," he said softly. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," you replied, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected presence, fingers struggling to tie the cloak’s strings, too focused on him. "I was just getting ready for the day."

Jacaerys nodded, his eyes taking in your attire. “Need help?" he asked. 

You nodded, grateful for the assistance. Jacaerys stepped closer, his fingers deftly working on the cloak's fastenings. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you caught a hint of his scent – a mixture of leather and something uniquely him.

"There," he said softly, stepping back once the cloak was secured. His eyes met yours, a hint of warmth in their depths. 

"I thought perhaps we could break our fast together before we go, if you're amenable?"

His thoughtfulness touched you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "I'd like that very much," you said with a smile.

As you walked together to the great hall, you couldn't help but notice the change in Jacaerys's demeanor. He seemed more relaxed in your presence, the tension that had marked your earlier interactions noticeably diminished. 

The great hall was relatively quiet, with only a few early risers scattered about. Jacaerys led you to a small table near one of the windows, where a spread of fresh bread, fruits, and warm porridge awaited.

"I hope this is to your liking," he said, pulling out a chair for you. "I wasn't sure of your preferences, so I asked for a variety. I hope it isn’t too much."

You sat down, touched by his consideration. "It looks wonderful, thank you."

As you began to eat, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jacaerys seemed lost in thought, his gaze occasionally drifting to the window and the view of the dragon pit in the distance.

"Are you nervous about meeting Vermax?" he asked suddenly, his eyes focusing back on you.

You considered the question, taking a sip of warm tea before answering. "A little," you admitted. "I've never been this close to a dragon before. But I'm more excited than nervous, I think."

Jacaerys smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Vermax can sense emotions, he'll know if you're afraid, but if you remain calm he will be as well."

You nodded, absorbing his words. "I'll do my best to stay calm," you promised. "And I truly am looking forward to meeting him."

Something softened in Jacaerys's expression at your words. He reached across the table, his hand coming to rest lightly on yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself lost in his gaze for a moment. The connection between you felt stronger, a fragile bridge being built with each shared moment.

As you finished your meal, Jacaerys stood, offering you his hand. "Shall we?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

You took his hand, feeling the strength and warmth of his grip. "Lead the way," you said with a smile.

As you made your way through the castle corridors, Jacaerys walking beside you, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from passing servants and courtiers. It was clear that your outing the previous night had not gone unnoticed, and you felt a flutter of self-consciousness.

Jacaerys seemed to sense your discomfort. "Pay them no mind," he said quietly, his hand briefly touching the small of your back in a gesture of support. "They'll have something new to gossip about by midday."

His touch, though fleeting, sent a warmth through you that lingered even as you stepped out into the crisp morning air. The dragon pit loomed before you, an imposing structure that seemed to dwarf everything around it.

As you approached, you could hear the low rumbles and occasional screeches of the dragons within. Your steps faltered slightly, and Jacaerys paused, turning to face you.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a bit nervous," you admitted.

Jacaerys's expression softened. "It's natural to be nervous," he said. "But Vermax is kind, do not fret."

As you entered the dragon pit, the air grew warmer, filled with the scent of smoke and something distinctly reptilian. Jacaerys led you towards a large pen, where a magnificent creature lay curled up, its scales shimmering in the dim light.

"Vermax," Jacaerys called softly, his voice filled with affection.

The dragon stirred, raising its massive head. Its eyes, intelligent and piercing, fixed upon you, and you felt a moment of panic. But then Jacaerys's hand found yours, squeezing gently in reassurance.

"It's alright," he murmured. "Just breathe. Let him get used to your scent."

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still as Vermax's nostrils flared, taking in your scent. After what felt like an eternity, the dragon let out a low rumble that sounded almost... approving?

Jacaerys smiled, his face lighting up with pride. "He likes you," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "Would you like to touch him?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Is that... safe?"

Jacaerys nodded in a chuckle, gently guiding your hand forward. "Just here, along his neck. His scales are warm."

He mumbled words – commands – in High Valyrian, a language that you did not quite understand. As Jacaerys's gentle voice wove through the ancient words, you felt a strange calm wash over you. His hand steadied yours, guiding it towards Vermax's neck. The dragon’s scales were warm, surprisingly smooth, and a thrill of awe coursed through you at the touch.

Vermax's gaze remained fixed on you, but there was no malice in it, only curiosity. Your hand moved slowly, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the creature's skin. The dragon emitted a low, contented rumble, and Jace's smile grew wider.

With trembling fingers, you reached out, gasping softly as your hand made contact with Vermax's humid and warm scales. They were indeed warm, and smoother than you had expected. The dragon rumbled again, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

“There we go,” Jacaerys murmured, watching as Vermax responded to your gentle touch with a low, rumbling purr. It was like nothing you’d ever heard before – a deep resonance that seemed to echo within your very bones. The dragon's presence was overwhelming, a creature of immense power and grace. Yet here, in this moment, it seemed almost… gentle.

Jacaerys stood close beside you, his hand still lightly covering yours, offering reassurance through the contact. The dragon pit was quiet, save for the occasional shifting of massive limbs and the rustling of scales as Vermax settled more comfortably under your touch. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and warm metal, an atmosphere charged with both mystery and excitement. 

"He's magnificent," you breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from the dragon's gleaming eyes, which seemed to hold a world of secrets within them.

Jacaerys watched you, his eyes soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name. "He trusts you," he said quietly. 

He marveled at how quickly Vermax had accepted you, a bond forming almost instantly. In his experience, dragons were fiercely independent creatures, wary of strangers and cautious around those they did not know. The ease with which Vermax had welcomed you was rare, a testament to something intangible that Jacaerys could sense but not quite articulate.

Jacaerys had seen many attempts to win a dragon's favor and fail; it was a delicate dance of trust and mutual respect, often requiring patience and time. Yet here you were, a newcomer to Dragonstone, and Vermax was already responding to you with a gentleness that belied his formidable nature.

Vermax cooed, his big eyes closing as you ran your hand over his scales, Jace’s cautiously hovering over. 

"He really does like you," Jacaerys said, a note of wonder in his voice. "I've never seen him take to someone so quickly."

You looked up at Jacaerys, a smile spreading across your face. "Is that unusual?"

He nodded, his eyes moving between you and Vermax. "Dragons are... particular about who they allow near them. It took some of our most experienced dragon keepers months to gain Vermax's trust to this degree."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, you turned back to Vermax, continuing to stroke his green scales gently. "Thank you for trusting me," you whispered to the dragon.

Vermax rumbled again, the sound almost like a purr. Jacaerys chuckled softly. 

"Does he understand?” you asked.

"To some extent, yes. He senses your sincerity."

You nodded, absorbing this. The dragon's massive head lowered slightly, its eyes fluttering shut as if enjoying the sensation of your touch. Vermax's breaths came in slow, rhythmic pulses, and you found yourself mirroring them, a sense of calm washing over you. 

“He’s like a pup,” you said, a smile creeping to your face. 

Jacaerys’s laughter was soft, a warm, gentle sound that seemed to blend seamlessly with the low rumbling of Vermax. “That’s a charming way to put it.”

You hummed a laugh, eyes focusing on the beast that grumbled beneath your hand. “Look,” Jace said, pressing his palm against yours to apply more pressure on the dragon’s neck. He moved both of your hands up to the back of the ear, you on your tiptoes as Vermax moved his head down, welcoming the touch. 

Jacaerys applied pressure once again, and the dragon tilted its head, eyes half-closed in a state of pure contentment. 

Jace smiled at the sight, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and affection. “He truly enjoys this,” he said, his voice a gentle murmur.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned to see Baela entering the dragon pit, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you and Jacaerys.

She stood near the entrance, her gaze moving from you to Jacaerys and then to Vermax. There was a moment of awkward silence as her eyes took in the intimate scene – you, with your hand resting on the dragon’s neck, Jacaerys close beside you.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, surprised to have found somebody in the dragon pit, usually only the keepers being there. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Jacaerys’s posture stiffened, his expression slipping into a mask of polite neutrality. He took a step back, his hand reluctantly withdrawing from yours. The warmth of his touch, which had felt so reassuring moments before, was now a memory of something he seemed to regret. 

“You’re not interrupting,” he said, his voice measured, betraying none of the emotions that seemed to ripple just beneath the surface. “We were just… introducing her to Vermax.”

Baela’s eyes flickered to Jacaerys, and for a moment, the weight of their shared history seemed to press down on the space between the three of you. The warmth in Jacaerys’s expression was gone, replaced by a hint of discomfort, as if he were grappling with a conflict of emotions. 

Baela cleared her throat, attempting to bridge the gap. “I came to check on Moondancer and make sure she’s comfortable. I didn’t realize you’d be here.” 

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, the strain of his previous joy now visible in the tight set of his shoulders. “I should–” he began, but the words seemed to falter. He cleared his throat and straightened, trying to regain his composure. 

“I should let you be. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Jace offered a polite, albeit slightly strained, smile as he turned towards you. His eyes held a flicker of something unreadable, a mixture of resignation and lingering affection. "I should take my leave," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality. 

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment at the abrupt change in mood. "Thank you for introducing me to him," you said, your voice sincere.

Jacaerys’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, a fleeting smile touching his lips before he turned to Baela. "I hope the rest of the day treats you both well."

Baela's expression softened as she watched Jacaerys retreat towards the entrance. As he walked away, the tension in the dragon pit seemed to dissipate, replaced by an air of quiet contentment.

After a beat of silence, she spoke, breaking the awkward moment. Baela’s gaze softened as she approached you, her initial surprise melting into genuine warmth. “I’m truly sorry for intruding,” she said, her tone sincere. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You smiled softly at Baela, trying to ease the lingering tension in the air. "It's alright, truly. You weren't intruding at all."

Baela approached, her eyes drifting to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly. "He seems to have taken a liking to you," she observed, a hint of admiration in her voice.

You glanced back at the dragon, feeling a mixture of awe and affection. "Jacaerys was kind enough to introduce us. I've never been this close to a dragon before, I’m quite nervous."

Baela chuckled softly, her laughter a soothing balm that eased your nerves. “That’s completely understandable,” she said. “The first time I was near Moondancer, I was shaking like a leaf. Dragons can be intimidating. But you handled it with such grace; Vermax is usually more reserved.”

Her words felt like a quiet reassurance, a bridge between your anxieties and the reality of the moment. You could see the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine appreciation she held for this small triumph. It was as if she, too, was celebrating the bond that was beginning to form.

“Jace must have really taken to you,” Baela continued, her eyes twinkling with a knowing smile. 

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Baela's words, a mixture of pride and embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He's been very patient with me," you admitted, your eyes drifting back to where Jacaerys had disappeared. "I'm grateful for his kindness."

Baela nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "He's got a gentle touch, that one."

You found yourself curious about the history between Baela and Jacaerys, but hesitated to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly nearby. 

A gentle breeze stirred the air in the dragon pit, carrying with it the mingled scents of smoke and dragonhide. You watched as Vermax shifted slightly, his massive tail curling around him in a relaxed pose. The dragon’s contentment was palpable, a testament to the bond forming between you and the creature.

Baela cleared her throat, breaking the tranquil moment. “I should get going to check on Moondancer,” she said, her tone light and cheerful. “I will see you later? For our midday meal.”

You nodded, eyes trailing after her as she walked away from you. The moment with Jacaerys had been special, filled with a blend of tenderness and excitement. His departure had left a lingering sense of something unfinished, a space where his presence had been warm and reassuring. Now, as you stood alone with Vermax, you felt a pang of longing for the ease and connection you’d shared moments before.

You glanced towards the entrance of the dragon pit. Vermax rumbled again, a sound that felt almost like a fond farewell as you turned to leave. 

—————

Days drifted by, each day settling into a rhythm that felt both comforting and, at times, monotonous. Driven by a restless energy, you found yourself drawn to the training yard one afternoon, eager for a distraction from the sameness of your daily routine.

Your eyes were drawn to the center of the yard when you arrived, settling to stand nearby. You watched as knights clashed their swords, a few of them sharpening them and others simply training. Finally, your attention drifted to the grunts and louder sharp sounds that echoed in the air, Jacaerys wore a makeshift armor, only covering his chest and part of his legs as he aimed for the man before him.

There was something different about Jace. His movements were charged with an almost palpable frustration, each strike of his blade carrying a weight of unspoken anger. You watched, entranced and a little concerned, as he danced with his partner, his footwork sure and purposeful.

But then, in a moment that seemed to unfold in slow motion, Jacaerys overreached. The blade slipped from his grasp and turned against him, biting into the flesh of his hand with a viciousness that made you wince. The clang of the sword hitting the ground was like a thunderclap in the sudden silence that followed, every eye in the yard drawn to the prince’s moment of vulnerability.

It wasn't until Jacaerys stumbled back, his sword clattering to the ground, that you realized what had happened.

Jacaerys grimaced, the pain evident in the way he cradled his injured hand. Blood trickled down his fingers, a stark crimson against his pale skin. You felt a sharp pang of concern, your instincts urging you to go to him, to offer aid.

"Your Grace!" The knight exclaimed, rushing forward as Jacaerys clutched his hand to his chest. 

“Stay back.” Jace ordered, a grunt leaving his lips again as he looked down at his bloodied hand. The knight looked around, unsure of what to do.

You watched as Jacaerys waved off the knight, the young prince's eyes blazing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. It was clear that the pain was secondary to the frustration that now simmered beneath his skin, a potent mix of pride and self-reproach that made him bristle at the attention.

He stood, still cradling his hand, and straightened his posture, his expression hardening into one of determination. He nodded at the knights who had turned to look at him, his voice steady despite the obvious pain. “Back to your swords.”

The command seemed to snap the knights out of their shock, and they quickly resumed their practice, the sounds of clashing blades filling the air once more. Jacaerys remained where he was, his breath coming in sharp bursts as he fought to regain his composure.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between respecting his pride and offering the help he clearly needed. But the sight of his bloodied hand, coupled with the raw frustration etched across his features, propelled you forward. You approached him slowly, your footsteps deliberate and unthreatening.

"Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice barely rising above the din of the training yard. He turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a distance in his gaze, a barrier that seemed to rise between you, but you pressed on, determined to offer whatever solace you could.

"Let me help you," you offered gently, gesturing to his injured hand. The words hung in the air between you, a lifeline extended across the chasm of his pride.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, his gaze dropping to his hand, the blood now drying against his skin. 

"I don't need help," Jacaerys said, his voice clipped and guarded.

"Let me see."

Jacaerys' jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration passing across his features before he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He seemed to weigh your words, the conflict evident in his eyes as he considered your offer.

Finally, with a reluctant nod, he extended his injured hand toward you. He avoided looking at you as you held his wrist, moving him to the inside of the castle as blood dripped down his fingers and onto the ground. 

As you led him inside the castle, away from the watchful eyes of the knights, Jacaerys' frustration seemed to simmer beneath the surface, an internal tempest he struggled to control. His movements were rigid, his silence heavy with unspoken words.

The frustration that clouded his mind was more than just about the training. It was a culmination of several things – the complexities of his relationship with Baela, the unease and uncertainty that seemed to seep into his days since you arrived, and the pressures of his own expectations. The training had become his escape, a way to channel his pent-up emotions into something tangible, something he could control.

Your presence now was a stark reminder of that inner storm. The sight of you, coming to his aid with a genuine concern that cut through his self-imposed barriers, only intensified his sense of vulnerability. It was as if your intervention had torn down a carefully constructed wall, exposing the raw nerves he had been trying to shield.

Inside the castle, you guided him to a small room, a quiet space away from the clamor of the training yard. The sunlight filtered through a narrow window, casting a soft glow on the stone walls. You set him down on a bench, your movements deliberate as you prepared to tend to his wound.

With a deep breath, you took his hand gently, the blood now congealing into dark patches against his pale skin. As you cleaned the wound, your touch was steady and soothing, a balm to his troubled mind.

Jacaerys watched you in silence, the weight of his frustration palpable in the tight lines of his face. His eyes, though distant at first, began to soften as you worked. Each brush of your fingers against his skin seemed to draw out some of the tension that had gripped him.

Yet, he refused to speak.

The room remained quiet save for the soft rustling of fabric and the gentle flow of water as you cleaned and bandaged his hand. 

As you finished bandaging his hand, you met his gaze with a soft, reassuring smile. The simple act of caring for him had forged a connection, bridging the gap created by his frustrations and the barriers he had erected. The walls he had so carefully constructed seemed to crumble, if only slightly, in the face of your genuine compassion.

"All done," you said gently, your voice a soothing murmur in the quiet room.

Jacaerys nodded, the simple gesture carrying a weight of gratitude and acknowledgment. His eyes, though still distant, held a trace of the vulnerability he had tried to shield. Unsure of what to do next, you sat in silence, his bandaged hand still sitting on yours, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the cloth. 

With a sigh, you moved to stand. “I shall take my leave–” 

“No.”

You looked at him, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. "Is there something else you need?" you asked, your voice gentle and open.

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if grappling with something he couldn’t quite articulate. The vulnerability that had surfaced during your care seemed to linger, a delicate thread connecting you both.

For a moment, Jacaerys remained silent, his expression a complex blend of contemplation and unease. It was clear that he was wrestling with the emotions that had surfaced – emotions that he had been trying to keep under control.

Finally, with a deep breath, he spoke. “I just… need a moment. Alone, but not alone. If that makes any sense.”

“I’m not following, Jacaerys.”

“Just… Just stay. Here.”

You studied him for a moment, the sincerity in his eyes and the depth of his request weighing heavily on you. His expression was a blend of vulnerability and longing, a quiet plea for comfort that he could not fully articulate aloud.

With a nod, you settled back into your seat, the minutes ticked by slowly, the only sounds the soft rustling of fabric as he adjusted his position and the occasional sigh that escaped him, each one a testament to the inner battle he was fighting. You watched him with quiet empathy, allowing him the space to navigate his emotions without feeling pressured to fill the silence.

Jacaerys’ gaze drifted out of the window, his eyes lost in thought. The sunlight cast a warm, golden hue over his face, and you couldn’t help but think that he looked beautiful. 

You could see the gradual softening of his features, the way his shoulders relaxed a bit more. It was as if the burden he carried had lightened just a fraction, if only because he had someone to share it with, even if only in silence.

Neither of you spoke of it since then, the needed company enough to ease the burden that Jacaerys had been carrying. 

—————

Days had passed, marked by the quiet moments of solace you'd been sharing. Jacaerys seemed to carry himself with a bit more ease around you, a small but noticeable shift in his demeanor. Though the castle continued its usual rhythm, with its clattering armor and distant roars of dragons, the moments of companionship between you had become a gentle, sincere bond.

You'd often find yourself drawn to him during those moments. It was as if the space you’d created together in the few months you’d been there had left a mark – a subtle, lingering sense of understanding that hung between you, yet not strong enough to end the awkward moments where Jace’s brain reminded him of Baela, or when he’d get nervous around her still. 

Though he didn’t have anybody to speak of it with, Jacaerys felt a stronger care towards you, slowly beginning to accept his duty and where his heart was taking him.

Whether it was through shared meals or the occasional chance meeting in the castle corridors, there was a new layer of connection that seemed to envelop your interactions.

One afternoon, as you wandered the castle grounds, you found yourself in the garden, little Joffrey laid next to you, a serene haven amid the chaos of court life. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden light over the flowering beds. 

You had come to clear your mind, to find a moment of peace, and the small child had trailed behind you, desperate for some company.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice Jacaerys approaching until he was almost upon you. The soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots alerted you to his presence, and you looked up, a smile forming on your lips as you met his gaze.

Jacaerys’ expression was relaxed, a stark contrast to the intensity you had seen in him before. He glanced at Joffrey, who was now busy examining a particularly vibrant blossom with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Hello,” the kid greeted, your tone warm and welcoming.

“Hello,” Jacaerys replied, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. His eyes flickered briefly to Joffrey before settling back on you. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

You shook your head, the soft rustle of your movement blending with the whisper of the wind through the garden. “Not at all. Joffrey’s just enjoying the flowers.”

Jacaerys paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the child. With a thoughtful expression and a small smile, he approached and gently placed a hand on Joffrey’s small shoulder. “Joffrey, why don’t you go find Rhaena? I believe she’s somewhere near the training yard.”

Joffrey looked up at him, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. “But I want to stay with you,” he protested softly.

“You’ll find Rhaena much more interesting,” Jacaerys coaxed, his tone kind but firm. “And I promise I’ll see you soon.”

“Please?”

Jacaerys’ gaze softened as he looked at the little boy. His hand lingered on Joffrey’s shoulder, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. With a gentle sigh, he turned to you, his expression easing into a more relaxed smile, letting you choose.

“It’s alright,” you said, chuckling. “If Joffrey wishes to stay, then let him. It’s not often we have the chance to simply enjoy the garden.”

Joffrey’s face lit up with a delighted grin, his initial reluctance melting away. He clambered back to his spot next to you, resuming his exploration of the flowers with renewed enthusiasm. 

Jacaerys settled onto the ground, leaving his sword behind and nestling next to his brother, his posture relaxed as he observed the scene before him. The child mumbled flower names he’d learned about, picking some up to hold them up to you and Jace in pride. 

As the three of you sat in the garden, the atmosphere was filled with a gentle tranquility. Joffrey's innocent enthusiasm for the flowers brought a lightness to the air, his excited chatter a soothing backdrop to the moment.

Jacaerys watched his younger brother with a fondness that softened his features. His eyes, usually guarded, held a warmth that spoke volumes about his love for Joffrey. As the child continued to explore, holding up various blooms for inspection, Jacaerys found his gaze drifting towards you.

There was something different in the way he looked at you now. The tension that had often clouded his expression in your presence seemed to have eased, replaced by a quiet appreciation. It was as if he was seeing you anew, through the lens of your kindness towards your surroundings and the gentle way you interacted with him.

He felt his chest tighten in nervousness as he reached behind his brother, who was too distracted by the flowers in front of him to notice Jacaerys’ hand itching towards yours. 

“You seem more at ease,” you remarked gently, the words barely more than a whisper, yet carrying a depth of observation. “How are you finding things lately?”

Jacaerys shrugged a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’m well, I suppose.”

Jace shifted slightly, his fingers still hovering near yours, but he hesitated. His eyes flickered between you and Joffrey, who was now eagerly describing a particularly colorful flower to you with wide, innocent eyes. The child’s chatter filled the space between you, an unwitting barrier that Jacaerys seemed to navigate with care.

He found himself drawn more and more to your presence. The way you listened attentively to his little brother, offering gentle encouragement and genuine interest, stirred something within him. It was a softness he hadn't expected to feel, a warmth that seemed to spread through his chest.

His fingers, still hovering near yours, trembled slightly with indecision. The desire to bridge that final gap, to make that physical connection, warred with the lingering echoes of his past with Baela. But as he watched you smile at Joffrey, your eyes crinkling with genuine affection, Jacaerys felt something shift within him.

Slowly, cautiously, he let his hand move those final few inches. His fingers brushed against yours, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for a breeze. But then, with a surge of courage, he gently covered your hand with his.

The contact sent a jolt through him, a mix of nervousness and excitement that made his heart race. He kept his eyes fixed on Joffrey, afraid to meet your gaze, afraid of what he might see there. But he didn't pull away.

You glanced at him, but his eyes were still focused on Joffrey, though you could see a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

With a final, enthusiastic show of a particularly bright bloom, Joffrey tugged at your sleeve and glanced up at you. “I want to go find Rhaena now,” he said, his small voice tinged with excitement at the prospect of a new adventure.

You looked at him and nodded, smiling at his boundless energy. “She’ll be happy to see you.”

Joffrey beamed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’ll tell her all about the flowers!” he declared, holding up the few flowers that could fit in his palm before scampering off towards the training yard, his laughter and light footsteps fading into the distance.

As the child’s presence disappeared, the garden seemed to settle back into its previous serenity, leaving just you and Jacaerys alone amidst the blooming tranquility. 

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his hand still resting gently over yours. He finally allowed his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, now more open and honest, held a hint of the conflicted emotions he had been grappling with. 

You could tell something ate at him, had he not wanted to talk about it with his brother present. Gazing at him, you offered a gentle, encouraging smile. “Would you like to talk about what’s troubling you?”

Jacaerys looked away for a moment, his brow furrowing as he struggled with his thoughts. His fingers tightened slightly around yours. 

“It’s just…” he began, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “I’ve been feeling… left out. Disregarded, almost.”

You tilted your head slightly, encouraging him to continue. “How so?”

Jacaerys shifted his position, the tension evident in the way he gripped the grass beneath him. “I feel like my mother… she doesn’t trust me to take on the responsibilities I believe I’m ready for.”

His words came out in a rush, as if the weight of them had been too much to keep contained any longer. “She hasn’t sent me to war, hasn’t allowed me to fly on dragonback to our allies or to attack the Greens. I understand that she wants to protect me, but it feels as though she’s holding me back, not giving me a chance to prove myself.”

You considered his words carefully before responding. "Your mother's caution comes from a place of love, Jace.” you moved to sit closer to him. “The realm is at war, and losing you would be devastating, not just for her."

His brow furrowed, a mix of understanding and lingering frustration evident in his expression. "I know that, but–"

"She's lost so much already," you continued gently. "The thought of losing you too must terrify her."

A flicker of understanding crossed Jacaerys' face. "I hadn't... I mean, I know she worries, but..."

He brought his free hand to his hair, pushing it back before. “I just wish she’d let me act. I only wish to help.”

“It might not feel like it, but sometimes being present and prepared is just as important as taking immediate action.”

He let himself fall back, hand still in yours as he laid on the grass. You settled beside him, keeping a respectful distance but close enough to offer comfort. 

"You want to make a difference, Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice blending with the tranquil sounds around you. "That’s a noble desire."

He closed his eyes for a moment, the serene atmosphere providing a brief escape from his inner turmoil. "I want to prove that I’m capable, that I can be trusted with more than just the responsibilities here at the castle."

“I rather like having you here, at the castle.” you admitted, cheeks burning as he turned to face you, you avoided his eyes.

Jacaerys’ gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the warmth of his attention even without looking directly at him. The confession had slipped out before you could fully rein it in, leaving you feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. 

You could see him processing your words, the flicker of surprise in his eyes softening into something more contemplative.

“You like having me here?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was a trace of something in his tone – curiosity, perhaps, or a tentative hope.

You nodded, still avoiding his gaze as you looked out at the blooming flowers. “Yes. Your presence here has been… comforting.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he almost whispered, “I like having you here, too.”

The realization that had begun to dawn upon him – the understanding of his feelings and the recognition of your presence as something deeply significant – seemed to transform the way he’d been looking at you. 

His eyes traced the contours of your face with a mix of awe and realization, as if seeing you in a light that was both startling and illuminating. The intensity of his stare spoke of a shift in his heart, a transition from the shadow of his past desires to the clarity of his present feelings.

His fingers moved to your wrist, softly caressing the skin as he stared. You felt your heart rate pick up, nervous under his gaze.

The realization that he had been holding back, that his past with Baela had obscured the thought of the potential of something new, seemed to now weigh heavily on him. Yet, despite the tumult of his emotions, there was a serene acceptance in his gaze as he watched you.

Eventually, he was shaken out of his thoughts by one of the handmaids approaching, hands together behind her back. “My prince, your presence is requested at the court.”

Jace’s hand reluctantly slipped from yours as he sat up, the moment of shared vulnerability giving way to the demands of his role. He looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and determination. “I suppose I must attend,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of reluctance.

You gave him a reassuring smile, though your heart felt a pang of disappointment at the interruption. “Of course. Duty calls.”

He rose to his feet, his posture shifting back into the prince’s armor of composure and authority. Yet, there was a softness in his eyes that lingered—a remnant of the moment you’d shared in the garden. He extended a hand to help you up, a gesture that was both courteous and intimate.

As you took his hand, you felt the warmth of his touch and the slight tremor in his fingers. It was as if the brief connection you had shared had made him more aware of your presence, more attuned to the quiet understanding that had passed between you.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty as he looked at you.

You nodded, trying to keep the reassurance in your tone steady. “I’ll be around.”

Jacaerys offered a small, genuine smile before turning towards the handmaid, his demeanor shifting back to the prince of the realm. He followed her down the garden path, his steps more measured, his gaze occasionally turning back to where you stood.

—————

The prince was nowhere to be found. The castle’s usual rhythm was disrupted as whispers of Jacaerys’ disappearance spread through the corridors. The once-familiar sounds of bustling servants and the distant murmur of courtly debates felt suddenly fraught with tension. You moved through the stone halls with a sense of urgency, the weight of concern pressing heavily on your chest.

It had been a restless night after Jacaerys confided in you about his plans. His frustration and the quiet desperation in his voice had painted a vivid picture of a prince caught between duty and desire. He had sneaked past your chambers at midnight and told you, in hushed tones, about his decision to leave the castle in search of allies, to rally forces in favor of his mother’s cause. He begged for it to be kept a secret, for his mother would not allow it if he was found out. 

Now, as you scoured the castle, each passing moment felt like a lost opportunity to stop him. You had hoped he’d reconsider, that the gravity of his actions would weigh on him enough to stay, but now the absence of his familiar presence was a stark reminder of his resolve. You felt anxious at the amount of hours he’d been gone, his dragon with him.

As the days passed without any sign of Jacaerys, the castle's atmosphere remained tense, with whispered conversations falling silent as you approached. You couldn't shake the feeling of being an unwilling conspirator in the prince's absence.

To distract yourself from the gnawing worry, you sought out the company of Baela and Rhaena. You spent time with them in the gardens, listening to Baela's spirited tales of dragon-riding and Rhaena's quieter musings on history and lore. Their presence offered a semblance of normalcy in these unsettling times.

As the week drew to a close, you found yourself lying awake in your chambers, your mind racing with possibilities of Jacaerys' fate. The silence of the night was suddenly broken by a commotion in the halls. Heart pounding, you rose and moved towards the door, straining to make sense of the muffled voices and hurried footsteps.

Emerging into the corridor, you were met with a flurry of activity. Servants rushed past, carrying linens and basins of water. The air was thick with tension and an undercurrent of relief. As you made your way towards the source of the disturbance, you overheard fragments of conversation.

"The prince has returned..."

"...wounded, but alive..."

"...flew in on a weak Vermax..."

Your steps quickened as you approached Jacaerys' chambers. The door stood ajar, and you caught glimpses of the prince through the gap. He was seated on the edge of his bed, surrounded by maesters and attendants. His face was pale and drawn, with a bandage visible beneath his torn shirt and a bloodied gash on the side of his face, from his eyebrow to his cheek. 

As you hovered uncertainly in the doorway, torn between relief at his return and apprehension about the consequences of his actions, Jacaerys' gaze met yours. He shared a small smile before the door was shut fully.

Hours later, when the halls had once again fallen silent, restlessness clung to you like a second skin. So, when you heard the soft knock at your chamber door, your breath hitched with a mix of relief and apprehension. You recognized Jacaerys’ familiar rhythm: two quick raps, a pause, followed by another. Without hesitation, you moved to open the door, ushering him inside and closing it behind him with a soft click.

“Jace,” you whispered, your voice a blend of concern and gentle reproach. “You should be resting. The maesters–”

“They exaggerate,” he cut in, a wry smile curving his lips. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were shadowed with fatigue. “I can walk just fine, and these”, he gestured vaguely to his face and torso, “are merely flesh wounds. They’ll scar, nothing more.”

You took a long, careful look at him. Despite the bravado in his voice, you could see the toll of the day’s events etched into his features. The weariness was palpable in the way he held himself, slightly hunched as though to shield his injuries from the world. His normally bright eyes seemed dimmed, burdened with an invisible weight that hadn’t been there before he left.

“What happened out there?” you asked softly, guiding him to sit on the edge of your bed. You remained standing, unable to find the calm to settle.

Jacaerys sighed deeply, his hand running through his disheveled hair, pushing it away from his face. He shook his head, the gesture heavy with unspoken frustration and exhaustion. 

"It's... a long story," he said, his voice weary. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the details."

You moved closer, your eyes fixed on his face. "Jace, you could never bore me."

He looked up at you, a flicker of gratitude passing across his features. But then he shook his head again, more gently this time. "I appreciate that, truly. But right now... I just need a moment of peace. This past week has been..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to find the words to describe his ordeal.

"And I know that once my mother hears of my return, there will be no escaping her scolding," he added with a rueful smile. "I wanted to see you before that storm breaks."

Your heart softened at his words. You sat down beside him on the bed, careful not to jostle his injuries. "I'm glad you came," you said softly. "I've been worried sick about you."

Jacaerys turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. 

“We all have been,” you added. “Baela… your mother…”

A flicker of acknowledgement passed over Jacaerys' face at the mention of Baela, but it lacked the usual undercurrent of pain and longing you'd grown accustomed to seeing. Instead, there was a quiet acceptance in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted.

"I'm sorry for worrying you all," he said softly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

Jacaerys remained quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on his hands. Though he didn't voice it, the week away had been harder than he'd anticipated, not just because of the physical trials he'd endured. He'd found himself missing your presence more than he'd expected – your counsel, your companionship, the comfort of your familiar face in a sea of uncertainty.

When he'd caught a glimpse of you outside his chambers earlier, a part of him had wanted to dismiss all the fussing maesters immediately. He'd longed to speak with you, to see you, to share the weight of his experiences, to seek solace in your understanding.

His eyes lifted to meet yours again, “What have you been doing in my absence?”

You huffed, fixing your posture and faking a smile. “Queen-to-be training, apparently.”

"Queen-to-be training?" he repeated, his tone a mix of amusement and sympathy. "I can only imagine. Let me guess – the maesters have been relentless?"

You nodded, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. "They were absolutely scandalized when they discovered I hadn't been taught to sew as a child. You'd think I'd committed some grave offense against the realm itself."

He shook his head, still smiling. Jace leaned back slightly, his posture relaxing as he listened to you. Despite his fatigue, he seemed genuinely entertained by your predicament. "And how are you faring with these... essential skills?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

You gave him a playful glare. "I'll have you know, my stitches are only slightly crooked now. Though I fear my embroidered dragons look more like angry lizards."

This elicited another laugh from Jacaerys, louder this time. He quickly pressed a hand to his side, but the smile remained. "Well, I for one would be honored to have a tapestry of angry lizards adorning the castle walls."

You couldn't help but smile at Jacaerys' laughter, even as concern flickered in your eyes when he winced. It was good to see him in lighter spirits, despite his injuries.

"I'm glad you find my struggles amusing, Your Grace," you retorted with mock indignation.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You couldn't help but smile at his fake offense. "Oh! And apparently, I've been pronouncing 'Targaryen' wrong all this time."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? And how have you been saying it?"

You demonstrated, exaggerating your previous pronunciation. 

Jacaerys laughed loudly again, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose we can't have a future queen mangling the family name. Though between you and me, I think half the smallfolk say it differently anyway."

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the genuine amusement that softened the harsh lines of his face, was a reminder of the boyish prince beneath the layers of duty and exhaustion.

You watched him carefully, your heart aching with a mixture of relief and lingering worry. “You really should rest,” you said gently, reaching out to adjust the bandage on his forehead, which had started to peel from the corner. 

His hand came up to cup yours, linking your fingers together as he hesitated. “I suppose I should.”

As if summoned by some mischievous deity, a muffled voice filtered through the heavy chamber doors, shattering the intimate moment. The maester's call, though faint, rang out clearly in the sudden silence: "My prince?"

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand tightening around yours for a brief moment before he let out a soft sigh.

"It seems my reprieve was short-lived," he murmured, a note of resignation in his voice.

You both stood, reluctantly letting your hands fall apart. Jacaerys moved towards the door, his movements careful and measured to avoid aggravating his injuries. 

The door creaked open to reveal the maester, whose expression was a blend of relief and professional concern. Behind him, the flickering torchlight cast shadows that danced across the walls, adding to the sense of urgency.

“My prince,” the maester began, his gaze flickering to you with a polite nod, “You must rest.”

As he turned to follow the maester, he glanced back at you, a brief, almost imperceptible smile passing across his lips. The door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room. The soft rustling of fabric and the distant murmur of footsteps were the only sounds breaking the stillness. After a week of restless nights, you finally let sleep take over you.

The next day dawned with a flurry of activity in the castle. You rose early, your mind still occupied with thoughts of Jacaerys and the events of the previous night. As you prepared for your daily lessons, you caught snippets of conversation from passing servants – apparently, the prince had been confined to his chambers on the Queen's orders until his wounds fully healed.

Your morning was filled with the now-familiar routine of "queen-to-be" training, barely having time to visit your betrothed. Every time you’d tried to sneak past the maester in charge, or one of the maids, you’d be given a stern look that made you sit back down to focus on your duties. 

As you moved through the castle corridors between lessons, your path took you past Jacaerys' chambers. You slowed your steps, hoping for a glimpse or perhaps a chance to check on him. Instead, you saw Baela and Rhaena approaching his door.

You hesitated, watching as Baela knocked and then entered the room with a gentleness that seemed at odds with her usual boisterous demeanor. Through the briefly open door, you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys, propped up in bed, his face lighting up at the sight of his cousins.

A pang of something – jealousy? concern? – fluttered in your chest as you observed Baela's careful movements around Jacaerys, her hand resting on his arm, a small smile on both of their faces. But as you watched their interaction, brief as it was, you realized with a sense of relief that there was nothing more than friendship between them. The easy camaraderie, the lack of tension or hidden glances – it all spoke of a comfortable, familial bond rather than the romantic entanglement that had been haunting them for the past months.

As the door closed behind the sisters, you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. The knot of tension in your chest loosened, replaced by a warm feeling of reassurance. You continued on your way to your next lesson, your steps lighter than before.

Throughout the rest of the day, your thoughts occasionally drifted to Jacaerys, wondering how he was faring in his confinement. You made a mental note to find a way to visit him yourself, perhaps under the guise of delivering some reading material or simply to offer companionship during his recovery.

—————

Three days had gone by, Jace’s absense from the castle’s halls feeling like a palpable void. The castle's routine continued its relentless pace, but each day felt marked by the absence of the prince, who remained in his chambers as per the Queen’s decree. The usual sounds of the castle – footsteps echoing in the corridors, the murmur of conversations, and the clinking of dishes during meals – seemed muted without Jacaerys’ vibrant presence.

Your lessons, though diligently attended, seemed to stretch endlessly. The repetitive drills and the constant pressure to perfect every task left you feeling drained. 

On the third day, the weight of confinement began to bear down on you. The castle walls seemed to close in, and the routines felt increasingly stifling. You could no longer ignore the need to see Jacaerys, to offer him your support and comfort in person.

In the late afternoon, as the sun began to cast a warm, golden light through the castle windows, you decided to act. With a determined resolve, you gathered a stack of books, their leather covers and gold leafing catching the light, and made your way toward Jacaerys’ chambers. This time, you hoped your visit would be more than just a fleeting encounter.

As you approached his door, you took a deep breath, your nerves fluttering with anticipation. You knocked gently, the sound a soft reminder of your presence.

You were met with silence. 

You were about to knock a second time when the door creaked open just slightly, and you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys himself standing on the other side. His disheveled hair and the faint smile that tugged at his lips betrayed a hint of mischief.

Before you could react, he grabbed your hand with a swift, practiced motion and pulled you into the shadowed recess of the large closet adjacent to his door. The suddenness of the action left you breathless and slightly disoriented, but the familiar scent of cedar and leather from the closet’s wooden shelves quickly grounded you.

The closet was spacious enough to accommodate both of you. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the small crack in the door, you saw Jacaerys leaning against the wooden wall, his face a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“You,” he said in a low voice, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, “have impeccable timing.”

You let out a soft laugh, your nerves calming as you realized the nature of this unexpected encounter. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you teased, trying to peer through the sliver of light to gauge your surroundings.

Jacaerys shrugged lightly, though the movement was cautious to avoid aggravating his injuries. “The maesters have been relentless. They’ve turned my chambers into a medical haven. And every time they think I’m alone, they come barging in.”

“This is not quite the secret escape I envisioned,” Jacaerys continued, his voice tinged with a playful undertone. “But I needed a moment away from the constant attention.”

You turned to face him fully, the dim light highlighting the fatigue etched into his features. Despite his light-hearted words, the exhaustion was evident. “I can imagine,” you said softly. “I’m sorry to intrude. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch gentle but firm. Jacaerys’ smile widened, though his eyes remained shadowed with fatigue. “I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine relief. “I’ve missed our conversations.”

“I’ve missed them too,” you admitted. 

“I’m sure they have gone to folly, they won’t let me stand from bed without making a fuss of it.” he nodded his head towards the doors, referring to the healers. Though the light was dim, you could still see some of the light hit his face, letting you see the wide smile on his face, and the less-reddened stitches on his brow.

You glanced around the small space, the closet’s confines feeling oddly intimate as you and Jacaerys stood close together, the warmth of his presence a comforting balm. You could still hear the distant murmur of servants and the occasional clatter of dishes, but the noise felt miles away from this hidden nook.

“You’ve been so diligent with your lessons,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “I was beginning to think you enjoyed them more than my company.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Hardly,” you said. “If you could see the looks I get from the maesters when I try to sneak away, you’d know I’m barely enjoying myself.”

You heard the faintest sound of footsteps approaching, and your heart skipped a beat. The maesters, ever vigilant, seemed to be making their rounds again. The muffled conversation from outside the door grew clearer, and you could catch fragments of their voices discussing treatments and concerns.

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand squeezing yours for a brief moment before letting go. He brought his finger to his lips, telling you to be silent. He glanced towards the door, his face reflecting a mixture of concern and frustration. 

“We should–”

Jace cut you off by pushing the door to the closet, creaking it open just enough to let in a sliver of light, and you heard one of the maesters call out, “My prince?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened slightly, and he moved quickly, guiding you further into the closet’s shadows. You followed his lead, pressing yourself against the wall.

The maesters’ voices grew louder, and you could see their shadows falling across the floor just outside the closet. “He must be somewhere around here,” one of them said with a hint of irritation. “He can’t have vanished into thin air.”

The tension in the small, shadowed closet was almost palpable. You and Jacaerys huddled together, your breaths shallow and synchronized as you listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. 

Jacaerys' hand, still warm from holding yours, rested lightly on your back, a comforting presence amid the growing anxiety. His face, illuminated by the narrow stream of light sneaking in through the partially opened closet door, reflected a hint of amusement.

The maesters' voices were now directly outside the door, their conversation laced with frustration. “He couldn’t have gone far,” one of them said with a note of exasperation. 

“His Lady is also gone.” you recognized the voice from the maester that ‘helped’ with your duties. 

The sound of the maesters' footsteps echoed ominously in the corridor, each step growing closer and more insistent. The air in the closet was warm and heavy, mingling with the faint scent of cedar and leather. You pressed yourself closer to Jacaerys, your heart pounding in sync with the increasingly agitated voices outside.

Jacaerys' attempt to stifle a giggle came out as a muffled snort, his shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth. The sound was so unexpected that it made you bite back a laugh of your own, though you knew it would only draw more attention. You nudged him gently, your eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Jace,” you whispered fiercely, “this is not the time for laughter.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of apology and suppressed hilarity. “I’m sorry,” he managed to whisper, his voice trembling with barely contained laughter.

"...The Lady must be with him," one of the maesters said, frustration evident in his tone. "It’s rather irregular for them both to be missing at once."

You could almost see the disapproving frown on the maester’s face. The idea of being found in such a compromising position made your cheeks burn with mortification. Your heart raced as you imagined the potential scandal that could arise from this misunderstanding.

“They must think we–”

Jacaerys, sensing your distress, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His eyes, despite their fatigue, held a mixture of amusement and tenderness. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “They’ve jumped to conclusions. Don’t worry.”

You covered your face with your hands, even though he could barely see you, he stifled another giggle. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of mortification at the thought that anyone might assume something dishonorable was happening between you. Without thinking, you reached for the doors, wishing to push them open and stop the gossiping outside that questioned yours and the prince’s ability to wait for the wedding.

Jacaerys let out a barely audible sigh, his hand still resting lightly on your back. “We should stay put,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’ll leave eventually.”

You nodded, stepping back and pressing closer into the shadows of the closet. The cool, cedar-scented air was a stark contrast to the warmth of Jace’s body near yours. The narrow stream of light that filtered through the crack in the door illuminated the small space in patches, casting elongated shadows that danced around you.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited in the tense silence. You could hear the maesters’ frustration mounting, their voices rising in pitch as they grew increasingly exasperated. Jacaerys was still smiling at the distress.

The voices of the maesters gradually began to recede, their footsteps growing fainter as they moved further down the corridor. You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just slightly. Jacaerys, still pressed close to you, let out a soft chuckle, though he quickly stifled it with a hand over his mouth.

You could feel the heat of his laughter reverberating through his chest, a sensation that was both comforting and endearing despite the precariousness of your situation. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. His smile, despite the exhaustion that lined his face, was infectious.

“You could try to find a more comfortable hiding spot, next time.”

“Noted,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. You hoped that by the time all the maesters were out of the room and you stepped out of the closet, the evident flush of embarrassment that showed in your stance and your face. 

As the final echoes of the maesters' footsteps faded away, you and Jacaerys remained hidden in the closet, the silence now a companion rather than an adversary. The tension that had clung to the air began to dissipate, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere that was punctuated by Jacaerys' muffled chuckles and your own quiet, relieved laughter.

You shifted slightly, careful not to jostle Jacaerys too much, and peered through the narrow crack in the closet door. The hallway outside was empty, the earlier disturbance seemingly a distant memory. You turned back to Jacaerys, whose face was lit by a smile that softened the lines of worry etched into his features.

“Are they gone?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jacaerys nodded, his expression one of satisfaction mixed with residual amusement. “I think we’re clear. Though I doubt they'll stop their search anytime soon.”

With a final glance towards the partially open door, you slowly eased out of the closet, Jacaerys following suit with a careful, measured movement. The light from the corridor spilled into the closet, illuminating the room in a warm glow that made the shadows retreat. You watched as Jace made his way to his bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. 

Jacaerys sank onto the bed with a sigh of relief, the weariness of his injuries evident in the way he settled. You sat beside him, careful to keep your movements gentle and unhurried. 

“I’d brought you books,” you said, pointing at the pile of books that had fallen to the floor when he pushed you into the hiding spot. 

“Would you read to me?”

The request was soft, almost hesitant, but you could see the faint hope in his eyes. 

“Of course,” you said, your voice gentle as you began to gather the books from the floor. You selected one that seemed lighthearted, its cover adorned with an intricate illustration that promised adventure and whimsy. You settled back onto the bed beside him, the book open in your lap.

Jacaerys shifted slightly, propping himself up with a few pillows to make himself more comfortable. 

The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sounds the gentle rustle of pages and your soothing voice. Jacaerys’ eyes, once shadowed with fatigue, now shone with a mixture of relief and contentment. He listened intently, his gaze fixed on you as if the story was a lifeline pulling him away from the distress of his injuries.

You paused occasionally, glancing up to see his reaction, and each time you were met with a smile or a look of fascination.

After a while, Jacaerys let out a contented sigh, his hand resting on the book as you reached a particularly gripping part of the story. 

He cleared his throat softly, a subtle gesture that drew your attention away from the book. His gaze was momentarily fixed on your face, as if seeking the right words amidst the shadows and flickering candlelight.

He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “There’s something I’d like to ask,” he said, his voice a soft murmur.

You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest. “What is it?”

Jacaerys’ gaze fell to the book, then back to you. “Would you… kiss me?”

The request was almost shy, a contrast to the bold stories you’d been reading together. But there was something incredibly sincere in his tone, a plea for a simple yet profound gesture of closeness.

You didn’t hesitate. You set the book aside, letting it rest gently on the bed. You moved closer to him, your heart racing with a mix of tenderness and excitement. Jacaerys’ breath was warm against your cheek as you leaned in.

You pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, the touch delicate and affectionate. His skin was warm and slightly rough from the healing, but there was a softness that spoke of his vulnerability. As your lips met his cheek, you felt him relax, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

When you pulled back, Jacaerys looked at you with a smile that was both grateful and serene. His eyes were bright, the earlier exhaustion giving way to a peaceful calm. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

For a few moments, there was only the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing and the occasional crackle of the candle flames. The evening outside continued its slow descent into night, the castle settling into a peaceful hush.

The sound of the doors opening eventually broke the silence, you almost jumped from the bed, the thought of being found in bed, unchaperoned, with Jace. 

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of the doors creaking open. Panic surged through you as you glanced quickly at Jacaerys, whose own eyes widened in alarm. You barely had time to react before the intruder – a young maid, her face flushed with the energy of youth – appeared in the doorway.

You froze, every muscle tensing as she looked around the room with wide, innocent eyes. The maid's gaze fell upon you and Jacaerys, sitting together on the bed. Her cheeks reddened slightly, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flickering across her face.

“I–I’m sorry, My Prince,” she stammered, her eyes darting between you and Jacaerys. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Jacaerys, still propped up on the pillows, cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice steady despite the situation. 

The maid took a step into the room, her gaze flickering nervously. “The maesters are looking for you, my prince. They’ve been rather anxious, and I’ve been sent to see if you made your way back to your chambers.”

You could sense Jacaerys’ frustration at the intrusion, though he managed to keep his demeanor calm. He looked at you, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. You offered a reassuring nod, then moved to rise from the bed.

“I’ll go,” you said gently. “It’s best if I make my exit before things get more complicated.”

Jacaerys reached out, taking your hand with a brief but tender grip. “Thank you for being here,” he said softly, his eyes conveying the depth of his gratitude.

You smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised.

—————

The days that followed your clandestine visit to Jacaerys were a blend of anticipation and reflection. The castle continued its relentless rhythm, but now, each echo and murmur seemed tinged with the memory of your hidden conversation. Jacaerys’ recovery was progressing, and the tension that had initially surrounded his confinement began to ease. The maesters, though still vigilant, were less inclined to hover, and the prince’s rooms were gradually returning to a semblance of normalcy.

You had kept your promise to Jacaerys, visiting him regularly. Each visit was a delicate balance of light-hearted storytelling and quiet companionship. 

Among the many who noticed the change was Baela. The shadows of the past days had given way to a hopeful light, and Baela could sense the shift. She had seen the glances exchanged, the shared smiles, and the subtle, unspoken understanding between you and Jacaerys. It was clear to her that something had deepened between you two, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness for her friend and his newfound joy.

Your months in Dragonstone, even while its halls were rumbling with conversations about the war, were a stark contrast to the familiar, yet isolating, walls of your own castle, where being the only girl and without siblings had left you feeling like a solitary figure amidst the vast expanse of family and duty.

After having spent every given moment with Baela and Rhaena, they had become your confidantes, your sisters of choice, each sharing in the trials and triumphs of your days with an openness that was both refreshing and comforting. And the enthusiasm for company of the small Joffrey made your heart ache with care.

Little Joffrey was fast asleep with his head on your lap, both of you sitting on the grass outside of the castle, under the dappled shade of an ancient oak.

Beside you, Baela and Rhaena lounged on a cloth spread out on the grass. They chatted animatedly, their voices a melodic blend of excitement and curiosity. Baela was gesticulating with animated gestures, her laughter bright. Rhaena smiled warmly, her gaze occasionally shifting to the slumbering Joffrey with an expression of affectionate amusement.

The halt of steps beside you made you look up, a small smile creeping to your face at the sight of your betrothed. 

Without a word, Jacaerys stopped by your side, his gaze flicking to Baela and Rhaena, who had paused in their conversation, their curiosity piqued by his arrival. His expression softened as he met your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you.

He cleared his throat softly, a gesture that drew your attention. “Could I speak with you for a moment?” His tone was courteous yet carried an undertone of urgency that made you sit up slightly, careful not to disturb Joffrey’s slumber.

You nodded, glancing at Baela and Rhaena, who exchanged curious glances but remained silent, their interest evident. “Of course,” you said, rising gently and carefully lifting Joffrey to lay him down on one of the girls, ensuring he remained comfortable.

As you moved away from the blanket and the lively chatter, Jacaerys fell into step beside you. His presence was reassuring, though his demeanor was serious. He guided you a short distance away from the others, near a secluded spot where the oak's branches formed a natural canopy, providing a sense of privacy.

Once you were out of earshot, he stopped and turned to face you, his expression a mix of anticipation and something akin to nervousness. His hand moved to the small of your back.

“What is it?” you asked with a smile.

“I figured we could use a moment alone,”  Jacaerys' demeanor shifted subtly as he faced you, his eyes softening with warmth. A hint of a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He stepped closer, his hand still resting gently on the small of your back.

"Well," he began, his voice low and tinged with a hint of mischief, "I've been thinking about something for a while now." His gaze flickered briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. 

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. "I was hoping we might... continue where we left off the other day?" he murmured, his tone filled with gentle suggestion.

“Whatever do you mean?” 

Jacaerys' fingers traced a feather-light pattern on your back, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, lingering there for a moment.

Jace smiled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection as he gazed at you. "You know what I mean," he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moved from your hair to cup your cheek tenderly. “I have grown to care deeply for you. You cloud my judgment.”

With a gentle tilt of his head, Jacaerys closed the remaining distance between you. His lips met yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was brief but filled with emotion – a tender expression of the growing bond between you. As he pulled back slightly, his eyes searched for yours, filled with hope and a question.

"Was that alright?" he whispered, his hand still cradling your cheek.

You felt a rush of warmth spreading through you, your heart beating a little faster. This moment, shared in the dappled shade of the ancient oak, felt like the beginning of something precious. The playful glint in Jacaerys' eyes mixed with genuine care, creating a connection that went beyond your formal betrothal.

In the distance, you could hear the muffled laughter of Baela and Rhaena, a reminder of the world beyond this intimate moment. But for now, wrapped in Jacaerys' gentle embrace, you allowed yourself to savor this new chapter in your relationship, full of promise and sweet beginnings.

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

[scarlettmurphy]

STARCROSSED PT3 +ੈ✩‧₊˚ LOGAN HOWLETT

logan and y/n — starcrossed in every universe. the forbidden love, the underlying emotions swallowing y/n whole as she sees the man older then her own father by a good century or so in love with the woman she hates and she finds herself in a situation she knows she’ll never be able to run from.

- content warning age gap (is legal) angst. swearing. explicit. comfort! drinking. sick. dirty humour. choking. drugs. comfort? body issues. implications of ed. nsfw. angst angst and angst..pairings: older!logan howlett x xavier!reader. logan howlett x jean grey? scott summers x ?

spoiler: my idea was to make this a bit happier.. mission failed ☹️

note this is part three to starcrossed, make sure you’ve read the first two first so it makes sense :) the angst is angsting and i’m a little scrambled for what direction to go with this.. sorry for the long wait 💕i’m a bit insecure about this piece because i had a little writers block so i really hope you like it! i was listening to silver springs on repeat! so you get the vibes ☹️☹️ enjoy reading and i know this super long, sorry !! 💗💗

tags — @faceache111 @malfoys-demigod @navs-bhat @dilfismz @thisbipuff-isaswiftie @twinky-wink @thewiselionessss @thecraziestcrayon @plasticbottleholder @awhoreforalotofshows @emily-b @jae48 @cxptainbuck @444st4rg1rl @iluvloganhowlett @luusecret @bratalina @penguinsravioli @aesthetic-lyss @capswife @cliffordmess @halepack2011 @1-800-local-whore @lonelytealover @deezsnurts @angelofthorr @badbishsblog @weallhaveadestiny @hizzielover @noventev @holysmokesmando @la-diabla1 @sarnbarnes @lunalixya @danicl25

[i hope u like it!]

logan hadn’t moved an inch the entire night — you could’ve assumed he was a statue with how trained he was just to focus on y/n. every movement she made, every little occasional whimper or noise that escaped her sweet lips as she slept. his mind was spinning with thoughts as he bit down on his cheek mentally battling with himself as he thought to scott’s words that he had yelled at him a few hours before and what he said being enough to hit him with the small reality that the girl in front of him could of seen him in a way that he hadn’t completely processed or imagined was a possibility. scott’s words ringing in his mind as he has spent the entire night tossing and turning in the bed trying to dissect what he exactly meant by them, and he’d gotten an idea.

an idea he didn’t wanna admit to himself even though all his thoughts linked back to it. he swallowed it deep down, his heart beat quickening as he wondered over the thoughts circling in his mind. he was certain something was growing in him after knowing the knowledge a strong feeling taking over all his urges. maybe it was fear, he was pretty sure it was and he hated the feeling. in every way.

amd it was be caused by y/n. he knew it no matter how much he didn’t wanna admit that his friend, the girl that was a good 150 and something years younger then him was causing. the professors daughter— he had practically just got here two years ago and he didn’t need to be stirring up shit with charles because off his daughter who was practically underage, especially in his eyes. logan swallowing as he slowly come to the terms that the little girl, in his eyes who hardly looks that little anymore, next to him could see him in a completely different way. a way he never thought would be something in her mind.

slowly the time passed as light slowly dawned into the room which shone a sweet reflecting on y/n’s face as her skin soaked up the sunlight as logan brung his gaze up to the ceiling, his thoughts getting too much to bare as he leant into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. hating the fact it was so hard for him to control, fighting those feelings brewing in him as he slowly stood up from the bed being extra cautious to be quiet about it despite his big body making the bed quiver under him as he walked over to the window opening it slightly — a little extra cautious over y/n and smoking around her in this state as he looked back over to the view off her sleeping.

he hated how soft he was currently feeling because of her, the emotions stirring in him something he hadn’t even remembered ever feeling before. he felt like a big baby, smoking out the window all because of the kid. logan taking a big inhale as he watched the sun come up. soon enough finishing the cigar whilst overlooking the scenery,him finding himself stuck in thought as he leant against the wall as he brung his gaze back to y/n after throwing the put out butt out the window, his mind wracking around what just to do or if he should or leave or stay.

however, logan didn’t get the chance to decide when y/n’s eyes fluttered open as she tossed a little as the cover slid off her figure as she slowly woke up realising the fact she was still in the outfit from the night before as she could smell the faint bit of sick which made her let out a low groan as her mind was a complete blur, her being instantly met with a horrible headache as she buried her face into her pillow completely unbeknownst to logan’s presence. the headache only getting worse as she tried to recall what had happened the night before — the one downside of being a mutant of her power being the fact that hangovers hit like a wwe fighter would.

her mind stopping recalling anything after the time logan had walked away from the bar and left her with wade and hank — her mind slowly coming to terms with the shots.. the many shots.. the little burst of confidence she had as logan kept himself silent as he watched the girl stir awake not wanting to alert y/n off his presence just yet, deep down him knowing he wouldn’t of been able to speak anyway as he was too taken by her, not wanting to stop his little gawking as he watched her come to reality.

y/n’s heart felt as if it was burning as she recalled what she had seen with logan and jean — that hole inside her that was always lingering growing wider per second as she wished to suppress the memories now. god she wished she was more blackout then she had been. her mind feeling like a very hazy floaty mess as did her body currently.

y/ns mind bringing itself onto the little run she had out the mansion, hangover anxiety flowing over her as she felt her face heat up at the memory as her heart flipped at the thought of what she swore she could recall about scott of all people being nice? to her? at that she rolled out a little curse under her breath as she fought to keep her eyes closed against the pillow as all she wanted was so be swallowed hole as the heart ache that truly had never left and was only pushed to the side last night felt harsher then ever at the faded image off logan she had in her brain as she swallowed, her stomach making a loud gurgle noise as she felt the sick feeling coarse back up from her.

with that logan couldn’t be quiet anymore, him taking a step and just with the sound of his footsteps that made y/n open her eyes and look up as she met logan’s gaze from across the room herself instantly jumping as she felt completely fucked from the night before and his presence was the last thing she needed.

“y/n—“ logan spoke quietly, some of his emotion present within his tone as he immediately swallowed that back down, stomaching a smile in her direction as he made his way over to the edge of the bed. “are you okay?” he added out in an almost rushed way as y/n’s heart pounded as fast as her head was in the moment as she looked at him — her not even wanting to even know how bad she must’ve looked right now as she shook her head.

her low words coming out as fast as she had probably ever spoken before, “i think im going to be sick.” she rolled out under her breath, her words coming out in a heavy whisper as she quickly got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. y/n fighting the blurry feeling that overtook her vision as she knelt down to the bathroom toilet — her dizziness just making the sick worse as she leaned down to the toilet bowl as she let it come out. logan running after her the second she stood up that worried feeling growing as he stood at the door watching as she knelt down.

“fucking hell.” he cursed out under his breath as he spoke gruffly as he took a few steps over to her as he knelt down beside her as she was sick. his face forming a harsh grimace as he bit down on his tongue as his large hand fell to her back as he tried to soothe her as he looked away as she was sick again. him swallowing as he tried to control his anger that was growing in the bottom of his stomach for the state she had gotten in, pushing down scott’s words that lingered in his mind along with the question of why you would drink yourself into that state as if he didn’t already know the answer deep down.

“i’m gonna fucking kill hank and wade.” logan rumbled out as a gruff sigh escaped his lips as he took in y/n’s shakiness. hating how she must’ve felt in the moment as he moved his hand up and down her spine as she let out a shaky breath. the comfort making y/n’s hurt inside grow more and more as she stumbled out a quick, “i’m never drinking again.”

her words making a low chuckle escape logan’s lips as he nodded slowly his hand not moving as he used his other hand to move some of her hair behind her ear in a swift motion that only reminded y/n off a bit more from last night as she was sick again. logan swallowing down his anger and feelings as he knew he had to be there for her right now.

“—it’s just a bad hangover bub.” logan calmly stated, his thoughts becoming nothing but void to him as he had all his worry’s right now on her as he watched as she leaned down a little to the toilet bowl, him being able to tell how out of it she was still just by that action as currenlty y/n’s mind was a mixture of haziness and hurt as the words she was trying to mumble out got cut off by that sick feeling again which she swallowed right back down as she fought with herself.

“—‘m never had one like this before.” she cursed out before being sick yet again as his hand lingered on her lower back as he could hear the fear in her voice, a protective feeling growing all through his body he knew exactly what that meant for himself and he hated it which is why his voice sounded a little cold as he moved his hand off her, leaning a little closer to her as he grabbed a small cloth for her to use in a second before placing that on the side next to them.

his hand moving back over to her hair as he made sure it wasn’t getting in her face at all as his cold words hit the air, “that’s what happens when you take shots all night, especially the amount you and wade were taking.”

y/m swallowed roughly as she could overhear his change in tone which made her feel like even more a mess as she spoke up shakily, “sorry—“ and with y/n’s words logan felt a flurry of guilt within him as he shook his head releasing the harshness he was showing which he didn’t even mean too as he sighed.

“don’t be.” he eventually spoke up, his words falling to a cold room as he watched as y/n leant back a little his hands following her as she leant against the wall. his had sipping off her waist as he swept his touch away and grabbed the cloth he had gotten ready for her so she could wipe her mouth. swallowing as she took it from his grip as y/n felt her self pity growing just by seeing his darkened eyes on her as she wiped her mouth with the cloth gently. herself feeling completely disgusting.

y/n watching as logan flushed the toilet to get rid of all the sick that was in there whilst y/n sat there swallowing down her self pity, hating how everything was feeling. being sick here in front of him of all people. she’d rather scott be here, probably even jean, god why wasn’t scott here? why was logan here? what was he doing in her bedroom?

her mind was boiling with questions as she brung her eyes to his own, her gaze locking on his soft brown eyes with that everso hint of green within them that just reminded her of everything she loved about him. the hint off melancholy she always viewed in his gaze still there which just made the pull he had in her twenty million times stronger as it always had been as she couldn’t help the little nervous smile that grew on her lips as she nervously chuckled with her feelings enlaced within her action.

“god i’m a mess.” she retorted out, logan playfully tapping her shoulder at her words as his touch lingered against her skin as he kept his gaze on her.

— “least you’re a pretty one.” he replied almost immediately with a teasing smile showcased on his lips as he grabbed the cloth from her hand and put it over the toilet, y/n swallowing her feelings. his words hit y/n like a heavy, full of metal and being thrown at her by magneto, truck as she could just picture the blush that grew on her face from one silly meaningless comment from him she shouldn’t read too much since she didn’t have a good track record with that especially since what she roughly recalled him doing yesterday as she swallowed due to his words as she could still feel his touch on her own even if it wasn’t there.

the yearning in her practically breaking as she felt that tension stir in her stomach as her brain told her one thing yet her heart was aching to be nothing like she has been for the last two weeks to him no matter how much she shouldn’t be as she kept her gaze on him.

y/n was struggling to find the right words with so many question in her brain and luckily logan instead did for her after the moment of silence had passed, him swallowing roughly before doing so, “you okay now?” his words low as he felt the tension grow in the air silently battling himself from creating it within himself too as logan’s eyes studied y/n as he kept himself knelt down in front of the girl who was sat on the floor — not wanting to leave her side but knowing he should. knowing he shouldn’t be like this with her now, here.

her managing a nod back, “should be.”

her low words caused a feeling to grow in him, ”you will be kid,” he corrected, giving her a serious look.

y/n finding this tension and almost awkwardness grow between the two of them as she moved her gaze away from him, sitting up a little as she soon found her words. “what are you doing here?” she couldn’t help ask, “i don’t remember why.”

logan roughly sighed with her words as he stood up, looking down at her as he went over and leaned against the door. needing the distance between them for his own peace of mind as he spoke after she had finished. “i couldn’t leave you alone last night. i was worried after seeing how drunk you were.”

his words were like a little shock of realisation for y/n as she nodded over the obviousness of it as she moved her gaze onto him, her eyes casted onto him from across the room. hating the weirdness that was growing them as she noted how much it was coming from him. she’d most definitely have to remember soon or else it would be time to dive into someone’s mind.

“i remember scott being here but not you.” she muttered out as logan nodded at her words.

“yeah. well we were both helping.” logan blurted out under his breath, sounding a little pissed off as he opened the bathroom door, “you should shower— i’ll go get you something to eat.” the built up tension and guilty thoughts in his mind eating half the words he wanted to say.

“food might sent me over the edge.” y/n mumbled out lowly, logan knowing the truth underlying her words as he swallowed his own spit feeling those feelings thrive within him as he sighed at the girl who he hadn’t really seen eat a meal if it wasn’t some weird protein recipe, he recalled jean used to have all the time, for the past four months.

“well— just shower okay?” he grunted out as y/n nodded in reply as he closed the bathroom door behind himself. y/n soon hearing her bedroom door close a few seconds later as she let out a rough exhale as she felt like the weight fell right off her shoulders — instantly curling herself into a tiny little ball as she rested her head on her knees as she tried to recall everything as her head pounding just grew worse. rough was not enough to describe the mental and physical anguish she was feeling right now, her having blacked out most of the night and that specific fact irritated her to another level as she knew she’d have to go find scott and get what he knew out of him.

another embarrassing conversation with a guy she never saw eye to eye with and thought was a little bit off a stuck up mug who turned out to be the nicest thing ever to her last night — to say she was embarassed was an understatement as she eventually dragged herself into the shower as she pondered over all the things she knew.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the shower was too much and too little, the burning water against her skin making her feel a number of things as the pain brung her to the surface of reality as her mind bubbled within the surface of everything as the pain of the water against her soft skin quieted the pain in her heart and mind - her hair falling against her back as the water swallowed her skin whole.

her breath shaky as the tears that slipped down her cheeks were just water dripping down her to any other’s eyes, would’ve gone unnoticed, as she eventually finished her shower after a few ten or so minutes of soaking up all the emotions within the air that had been left and abandoned on that swing set she had the faint recollection off from last night.

y/n wrapping the towel around herself as she pushed through the bathroom door as she made her way through her room as she slid into the first thing she saw in her wardrobe. jeans and a red top - the basic of the basic — as she didn't even want to look in the mirror for fear of what she looked like but she bit that urge down and went right over to the mirror, over analysing every inch off herself as she tried not to let that feeling grow inside her because she knew she had things to do. tearing her eyes away from the mirror as she made her way out her room.

avoiding the glances she was getting from some students as she tried to forget her thoughts as she completely pushed past her discomfort on her way towards scott’s room, it of course being the biggest one in the mansion, y/n knocking on the door as she swallowed her own spit as the door opened revealing a stressed looking jean whose eyes instantly darkened at the sight of the girl.

just meeting the older woman’s gaze sent a chill down y/n’s spine as she definitely didn’t expect to see her and wasn’t ready to in the mind state she currently possessed. that feeling off jealously, aching, yearning and a mixture of pain swelling up through her mind and body as she saw the pure confusion that overtook jean’s face at her presence.

jean’s eyebrows furrowing as she leant against the doorframe, arms crossed, “y/n?” she questioned, her voice full off confusion as y/n felt the tension rise between them.

“hi.” y/n rolled out as she gave jean a little nod off greeting as she fought back the hurt within her at just how she looked so perfect this early as she held back her emotions with a small very fake smile, “is scott here?”

“you want too see scott?” jean asked puzzled, y/n seeing the weird look riddled on her face as she nodded slowly.

“yeah, well i need too.” y/n trailed out, seeing the way jean’s confusion grew as her jaw clenched. her seemingly jealous over this as y/n watched as her tongue clicked to the root of her mouth as she nodded slowly.

“scott!” jean called out into the bedroom when she leaned back, looking into the room where y/n couldn’t see as she felt just how awkward it was right now. y/n’s eyebrows furrowing as jean called for him again, her voice raising more as there was a faint sound of water turning off. probably the shower. then what followed was the found of a door opening, y/n’s eyes remaining on jean as she watched as she took a step back and opened the door some more as scott stepped next to her.

y/n’s eyes falling onto a very shirtless half naked scott, a towel wrapped lowly around his waist as y/n instantly swallowed harshly as she took in the sight.

his v-line showing as there was still water droplets dripping down his very toned abs — y/n immediately being taken aback by seeing scott like that as she felt her stomach flutter as she swallowed harshly once again — his hair was wet and messy and he had just shaved clearly. y/n taking in the new stubble as his new look made many things switch in her brain as he met y/n’s gaze after she had eventually looked to his face and not his abs, that not exactly being something she wanted to do.

“y/n?” scott exclaimed, his words somewhat a question as jean took a step back as she sent y/n a look scott didn’t pick up on due to his eyes only being on her as jean disappeared into the bedroom. scott taking a step forward as the door went with him, him standing between the door and her as she swallowed again finding herself sort of at a loss for words. him leaning against the doorframe as y/n’s eyes cascaded up and down him yet again as she roughly swallowed at the sight.

that’s when she caught glimpse of something, her eyes falling on a certain wound on his side, her eyebrows instantly raising as she practically forgot about how hot he was when she realised the cut. leaning over to get a better view off it as she took in the evident claw marks that looked like it hurt like a bitch, logan clearly having done that — the blood practically still fresh and she could feel her blood boil at the thought.

“what the?” y/n instantly let out as she took the cut in as she leaned a little closer to look at it, “why—?”

“i hurt him back.” he said lowly, y/n giving him a knowing look as that was probably the most scott thing he could’ve said as she leaned back to where she was standing before. a weird feeling growing within her as she scoffed.

“obviously— but why the hell did he do that for?” y/n managed out as she questioned him, scott taking a breath before looking back into the bedroom and swallowing. a weirdness growing between the pair as y/n’s eyes couldn’t help fall back and linger on his abs as he looked away before she met his eyes before she got caught doing so.

“just, let me get dressed and then we’ll talk.” scott thought out as y/n had to hold herself back from making a stupid comment as she nodded, about to speak up when scott did instead.

“meet me at the swings. but it might smell like sick.” scott rolled out slyly, a little playful hint to his words as y/n rolled her eyes.

“ha.ha.” y/n said sarcastically as scott couldn’t the grin grow on his lips as y/n turned on her heel.

“—i’ll be there in five!” he called after her.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n went right over to the swings as little faded memories popped back into her brain regarding these swings and her last encounter on them as her brows furrowed up in confusion as her mind lingered on the thoughts as scott came down the courtyard. y/n’s eyes drawing onto him wearing a cable knit sweater like usual, this one being a dark shade of red almost matching with her top, as she kept her gaze on him as couldn’t help but smile.

“he was being an asshole like usual.” scott swiftly let out as took his seat next to her on the swing, pushing himself of it a bit as y/n’s eyes followed him as she leaned against the chain — the sun shining down on the courtyard, a vast difference from the night before.

“—mm i think i need a bit more then that.” y/n said softly as scott couldn’t help the smirk grow on his lips at her words.

“well what do you remember?” he replied back cockily, making a shiver of anxiety coarse through her as a little uncomfortable feeling dawned over her as she shrugged her shoulders, “a whole lot of drinking, then i remember you and me sat here but not much off what i said, must’ve been something stupid.”

scott raised an eyebrow at her words as he bit the bullet in telling her the truth, swallowing before he spoke up.

“your love for logan isn’t stupid. like mine for jean’s isn’t.” he whispered honestly, y/n feeling his words sink in harshly as she found all the urges to speak get swept away from her as she roughly swallowed. the tension growing within the air as y/n felt her heart beat twenty times faster and feel like it was breaking.

“you can’t help who you love.” he added out, y/n feeling his gaze as she eventually turned her eyes to him only to look right back away.

she couldn’t bring herself to glance one more time his way as she looked over at the mansion as she felt the weight of conversation dawn on her heavily as the uncomforbaility grew in her at just the thought of scott knowing how much she did like love logan. y/n’s eyes dropping down to the floor as she finally spoke up after a couple twenty or thirty seconds of silence, “i want too though, it’s not like i wanna love him.” y/n lowly whispered out before she took a pause, feeling the weight bare on her again as she tried to speak about something else to avoid saying anything more heart wrenching and slightly embarrassing which made herself feel worse,”—and i’m sorry you had to hear whatever i rambled out last night.” scott’s eyes lingering on her with her words before he tore his eyes away towards the mansion.

he could practically feel her heart ache as if it was burning into him and he couldnt help the sad smile spread on his lips as he knew how much it hurt first hand, so he wanted to make her feel better. “no—it was sort of enjoyable.” scott said lowly, making y/n’s eyebrows raise in interest as she finally met his gaze. his words being different from the sad ones he spoke before as their eyes locked on each other.

“sorry does me being a crying drunk mess entertain you?” y/n said lowly, her voice rooted in low sarcasm as scott chuckled.

“no it’s just you’re a lot sweeter when you’re shitfaced.” scott brung himself to say as y/n’s eyebrow twitched up, giving him a little look as she felt her heart skip a beat — her eyebrows raising at his statement as his words made her forget for a moment the manner of this conversation.

“hey i can be sweet sober.” y/n scoffed out, her words causing scott to raise an eyebrow in a playful manner.

“yeah, what? to logan?” his low words made her roll her eyes as scott chuckled as y/n leaned over her swing and nudged his shoulder harshly before she moved her swing back — the playful energy that had grew between them making her feel comfortable.

“shut up.” y/n scoffed out as scott laughed a little harder nudging her back before y/n couldn’t help a little laugh too as she met his gaze.

“so you and jean this morning?” y/n couldn’t help ask which made scott let out a low sigh as y/n pushed on it a little more with a smile at his reaction, ”—not so done after what i saw..?” she trailed out, giving him a look.

scott grimaced a little at the memory / reminder of it as he swallowed, his voice low with anger enlaced within it as he spoke a bit coldly. “oh no, we’re done. engagement rings back.”

y/n’s mouth fell agap as she met scott’s gaze, her heart twitching and almost stinging for the man as she raised an eyebrow — shock being the only feeling she was experiencing right now. “you were engaged?” she managed out, scott nodding as y/n clicked the tongue to the root of her mouth. there was never a ring she could of spotted on either of the, but that knowledge made the situation ten times worse in her brain, her mind toggling on jean’s face from this morning as all she currently wanted to do was go punch the bitch. as if she hadn’t wanted to do that for the past two years anyway, this just made the urge slightly uncontainable.

“god she’s a bitch.”

scott lowly laughed as she nodded, “yeah you said that last night.”

her face went a little shade of red at his words, “they say drunk words are sober thoughts.” he added out and y/n couldn’t help the smile growing on her lips as she nodded, shrugging her shoulders.

“i definitely wasn’t wrong.” she said lowly as scott held back a little wince as he swung back on his swing a little, eyes moving back over to the view in front of the pair as y/n spoke up again, “she did look fuming today.”

scott rolling his eyes at the fact, “probably because she was wanting to be with logan —“ he said before he paused realising the weight of his words for y/n, “no offence.”

y/n let out a little laugh at scott’s words trying to ignore the burning sensation in her throat and the hurt that traveled down her chest right to her heart and through her core as she shrugged her shoulders. “yeah i’ll get over it.”

scott couldn’t help the sadness the etched on his face as moved a little, letting out small wince that grabbed y/n’s attention as she looked at him. her eyes falling to where the cut was on his side as his hand rested over it as he leaned up, y/n speaking up, “it hurts still?”

“horribly.” scott muttered out as he tried to sit comfortably, y/n swallowing before she leaned her swing to his — placing her hand over his chest which caused him to jump a little as she placed her hand over where his just laid. “—woah— what are you doing?” he ushered out quickly with her action as she placed her hand exactly over where the cut was.

“just shush.” she rolled out as her hand hovered over the claw marks logan had left as she closed her eyes — ignoring his question as he studied her expression, swallowing as he held back a wince at how her hand was on his side.

her not saying anything more as scott kept himself shut, his mouth falling open as he felt her hand move against his cut and he noticed the way the veins in her arm riveted against her skin as he swallowed as he figured what she was doing. seeing the purple gleam that highlighted through her skin as he felt the pain slowly subside until it completely faded, his stomach flipping and his heartbeat rising as his chest did as he took in a big exhale as he realised exactly what she had just done.

her eyes opening as she leaned over to him, slowly pulling up his shirt to check on the cut as he let her do so as he felt his breath hitch as her hand lingered on the top of his smooth and now cut and bruise free skin as she then went to lean back onto her swing, meeting his eyes as she gave him a little smile.

“there.” y/n said lowly, her words falling out softer then intended as scott smiled at her - their eyes locking onto each others as she brung her hand away but scott stopped it from doing so. his hand grabbing her wrist softly as y/n felt frozen at his touch as he kept his eyes trained on her. the contact they were having making her feel the feelings of butterflies in her stomach as she swallowed . “better?” y/n spoke into the air, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, yeah— really better.” scott swallowed out as he brung himself to speak, his gaze not leaving her own as he kept his smile tightly on his lips. “thank you.” he managed out, y/n’s heart flipping as he dropped her wrist which made her lean back into her swing, her eyes dawning back onto the mansion as her swing swung a little.

“its cool.”

her words were weighted as scott looked down to his chest as he overviewed where the cut once was which was completely clear, “i forgot you could do that.”

her eyes fell back over to scott at his words as she swallowed, “yeah i hardly do it.”

her watching as scott pulled down his shirt, fidgeting in the swing as he couldn’t help curiosity strike in him as he turned to her direction, “does it hurt for you when you do it?”

she didn’t expect him to ask that question as she shrugged her shoulders, “well i heal right away.” y/n spoke up as she nudged her shirt up a little to check, scott’s eyes dawning on the cut that was fading into her skin which was just the one he had. his eyebrow raising at the image in his head as she brung her shirt right back down.

“either way it’s bearable.” her added words made scott shift in his seat as he held back what he really wanted to say instead swallowing those words right back down as he decided on teasing her.

“you took my pain from me — are you starting to like me finally?” he questioned out, raising an eyebrow at her playfully, “i thought the day would never come” his words making her roll her eyes as she held back the urge to push him off the swing or blush heavily.

“i can give it right back to you.” y/n defended lowly, making him hold his hands up in defence.

“hey, no. i’m good—“

“but i do have to say something which might make you wanna kill me.” he added out which made y/n’s eyebrows raise as she crossed her arms, her eyes on him as she swung her swing around so it was facing him. her body moving along with it as she leaned against the bar. him taking this as her immediate question to why as he spoke up before she got the chance.

“i’m pretty sure logan knows.”

with his words y/n’s eyebrows instantly furrow as she swallowed the pit growing in her stomach as she bit on her tongue to stop herself from freaking out.

“has that got anything to do with the cut?” she asked out, scott nodding before he butted it to try and explain it — “look he might not know completely, i just said that he should be careful about how you feel after i said a few things about him fu— with jean.” scott ushered out quickly pausing a little over jean as y/n tried to hold back the growing anger in her body at the reminder of jean which made her feel a little guilt about how she handled the situation she saw in last night and how she must’ve said it to scott or something as if logan with his fiancé- or should she say ex fiancé- would mean nothing to him. y/n didn’t even wanna remember it due to the mental picture she was gathering as she swallowed, the twos heartache being prominent within their conversation now.

“it was a heat of the moment thing, i did just lazer him.”

with those words y/n couldn’t help a laugh fall her lips in disbelief at how controlled that must’ve been for him to do as she smiled at him, actually finding herself quite glad off that fact, “you lazered him?”

“yes and he was whining like a baby.” scott rolled out emphasising the whining as y/n’s smile grew.

“what the hell was i doing when that was happening?” she couldn’t help ask as scott couldn’t help a laugh as he kept his eyes on her, “oh you were snoring by then.”

“i do not snore.” she quickly bit lowly in reply, scott sensing her stubbornness over the topic immediately as he pushed on it.

“do you need me to let you read my mind to prove you do?”

“i do not s—“ y/n lowly spoke but before she could finish her words the presence of bobby in front of her cut her words short as her face went a bright shade of red at her friend in front of her who she hadn’t even noticed walking over to them — a smirk present on his face at the little idea he formed in his head from just seeing the two here alone.

“hey scott— professors asking for you.” bobby said calmly with his hands in his pocket, his eyes moving between the two of them aa scott turned his attention to bobby silently cursing in his head for him coming over here.

he sighed as he looked back over to y/n, “duty calls.”

“update me on if you need that.” scott teased out slyly as he stood up from the swings before giving bobby a nod as he passed him, bobbys eyes dawning on y/n as his eyebrows instantly raised once he looked back to check if scott was out of ear shot, the second he noticed he wasn’t instantly turning on y/n.

a little smirk on him slaps as she crossed his arms, looking at her.

“please tell me y/n, what do you need?” bobby rolled out playfully in a very obvious tease as y/n rolled her eyes as she stood up.

“god please go annoy rogue or kitty and not me.” she cursed out which made bobby scoff as he went to her side as she was walking, giving her a nudge.

“so you and scott?” he rolled out as y/n nudged him back which nearly sent him over as she scoffed in reply to his words.

“just bonding over heartache thank you very much.” she added out softly, bobby regaining his balance as he kept his position alongside her. eyes cascading over y/n as he shook his head.

“—mm, sure.” bobby teases out as his eyes glanced over the mansion as they got closer to it, his eyes swearing they could make out a logan looking from one of the windows. ams the second body noticed that the figure disappeared, him shaking the idea out his mind as he went back to focusing, teasing, y/n.

bobby finally dropped the scott thing after a long and slightly annoying repeat tease about it as they walked about the mansion just looking for something to ease their boredom on this very lonely sunday which wasn’t so lonely until bobby has snapped scott away with orders from her dad which left her with him, yet not for long as the second he saw rogue he left y/n, scurrying away after rogue like a lost puppy.

the second bobby left y/n knew she wanted (and needed) to find logan somewhere with the new knowledge she had to just ask him why the hell he hurt scott for.. maybe it was bias but she did wanna know and have an excuse to try and get the fact he knew she liked him out of him in a way that didn’t make her have to say it. her mind practically squirming with thoughts of what he would do as she nonchalantly looked around the mansion. her mind thinking on what the best thing to say would be. maybe a little ‘maybe don’t fuck engaged people.’ or a little scream of ‘why the fuck did you hurt scott for?’ or maybe a desperate ‘please don’t hate me now you know i love you.’

y/n rolled her eyes at the comments she was making in her brain as she eventually gave up her search, slumping down on one of the lounge chairs in the living room as she pondered. her mind linking her thoughts back to logan with every aching possibility she got. she hated it, hated how much she was desperate to think off him. it made her feel so weak, weak to his every move as she overanalysed the conversation they shared in the morning.

thankfully, to stop her from going mad, hank came over to her with a bright smile on his face like usual as he slumped down onto the sofa.

“hey y/n.” he commented softly as he leant back onto the sofa, y/n’s eyes falling onto him as she gave hank a soft smile in reply as he fixed his glasses — his gaze on the ceiling as he swallowed.

“hi,” y/n said softly as she analysed hanks furrowed brows and the clear look off pure angst from his face as she held back a little laugh or chuckle as she commented, “the shots get to you too?”

with her words hank brung his eyes on her as he let out a shaky breath, “most definitely.”

y/n couldn’t help a smile at his words as she gazed around the room before looking back to hank, “hey have you seen logan around?” she couldn’t help but ask.

seeing the way hank thought for a second before he quickly nodded, y/n noticing the change in his demeanour just at the question.

“yeah, um. going into jean’s room.” he swallowed the strength to say out, his voice slightly thick.

with hanks words y/n instantly felt a lump in her throat form as she felt her heart drop, nodding softly at what he said as she bit back any sign of emotion being displayed on her face even though hank could read her like an open book.

the aching feeling in her heart was something she hid to her best ability and tried to ignore as much as she could as she rolled out her next words quickly, trying to sound as if she didn’t care at all, “cool.” her words fell out so blatantly obvious that it was insanely obvious to hank she cared entirely.

—

but, thankfully hank didn’t ask you any questions or even dwell on what you asked for the rest of your brief conversation that lasted a good five or so minutes before you excused yourself to go up to your room and cry yet you told simply told him ‘the gyms calling me.’ which had been the biggest lie you had said to him in a long time and he definitely didn’t believe you.

but once you got in your room it felt like it made matters worse, the faint jeff buckley vinyl you had playing in the background making your yearning feelings even stronger as you thought off all the things that could be going on right now between the two of them. you hated it, you couldn’t deal with it anymore. two weeks ago you had decided to give up on it, as if you actually did, but you tried. and now that scott knew and you had someone to talk to about it it seemed all the way worse.

your yearning not being cut off for the entire rest off the night and it didn’t help that it was like logan had gone into hiding. another search of the mansion and he wasn’t anywhere and you were certainly not asking jean so you had to wallow in your thoughts off him as you went back to your room. repeating the same cycle of looking before bed, which only made you certain he had to still be in jean’s room. still. great.

and within the next day you still hadn’t seen him once, scott had said he was acting odd and not to push on it just yet but you could hardly contain your emotions anymore. him being gone making all off it worse because it was at his will, not yours. you didn’t even see him once.

and by wednesday that was when you knew you had to capture him somewhere alone. having seen him a good four or five times around the mansion now where he blatantly ignored or blanked you and that just made everything worse and scott’s nice words of comfort weren’t helping you one bit. it felt like it was making it all worse, seeing how fucked you were over him being so cold to you. it made you feel sick, you weren’t pushing him away he was pushing you away and you didn’t even know why. you craved his words, even if they were horrible you just wanted to hear him directly talk to you and you’re like this after only four days without talking.

the glances to each other in the hallway killed you mostly, every time it like he was tearing your heart up because he looked back every single time yet kept his mouth shut and immediately glanced away once he had shared his beauty to you. it was like a game now, trying to dissect the emotions in his eyes. but you never could. all you gathered was a look you narrowed down to feeling lost, or even confused. you didn’t get it. at all.

your yearning was at the highest volume especially after seeing him leave jean’s room this morning. that practically destroyed you and you didn’t know why he had such high control of you, you needed to get over it but you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. it was hurting to even breath, every breath feeling weighted as you laid on rogues bed after just having an entire bitch about it. her now knowingness of the situation making you feel better but her comfort hardly was there as all she was going on about was what costume to wear to the halloween party.

that making you feel a number of feelings, mostly annoyance as you swallowed roughly as she hung up a costume on her door.

“i wanna be riding hood. the red cloaks good for that.” rogue said softly, y/n sitting up at her words as her eyes dawned over to the costume hanging on the door. two days to go and rogue was still trying to find an outfit and a matching one for her best friend.

“what could you be?” rogue questioned out, almost to herself, as she looked over her costume then back to y/n.

“a pig.” y/n scoffed out as rogue rolled her eyes at her comment as she walked back and took in her own costume trying to match something to it. y/n watching as rogues brain tried to fall on something and it was almost like magic when it did. her eyes lightening up as she ran right over to her closet and started searching through it.

“what?” y/n asked out as rogue buried her head into it, throwing out a few things that made y/n’s eyebrows raise in confusion.

“you are going to be matching with me so good that we would win if there was a competition.”

with rogues words y/n’s eyes dawned on the thing rogue was holding in her hand as she shut the wardrobe behind her as she leaned against it.

“cat ears?” y/n muttered out confusedly as her eyebrows furrowed up in confusion as rogue scoffed.

“it’s red riding hood!” rogue retorted as y/n linked two with two, her eyes widening as she immediately shook her head.

“no! wolf? wolf! you’re joking,” she scoffed out quickly watching as rogue kept a straight face which only made her go on more,”—have you not listened to anything your best friends just been screaming about for the past thirty minutes!?”

the room fell silent as rogue pouted, holding out the ears for y/n to take.

“y/n! please, nobody will care. it’s not even about him!”

her words only annoyed y/n more as she went to talk but rogue instantly shushed, placing her finger to her lips as y/n edged back.

“cmon! you’re my best friend and i need you on this. it’s going to be hot! think of that.” rogue dragged out with a sly smile as she kept the cat, wolf, ears for y/n out to grab still waving them about impatiently.

“i know you’re going to say yes.” she rolled out as she took in the way y/n was looking at her. y/n swallowing her pride before she snapped the ears out her grip.

“fuck you.” y/n let slip as rogue cheekily smiled in return, “you wish.”

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

after that entire ordeal y/n slipped out of rogue’s company to join in with training, walking down the halls and towards the elevator being enough alone time for her as the second she was left alone with her thoughts she was right back on overthinking every single thing about logan and herself. her mind tracking back to what scott had recalled to her and how he mustn’t have been saying the entire truth to her because why else was logan being like this for? so distant, it just made y/n wanna dissect every inch of logan or scott’s mind and get to the bottom of it. that’d be easier then all this pondering.

and in training it showed how y/n was off it, her slacking in every way possible which immediately let scott know how much she was affected by the logan situation today. as they both got ‘killed’ from the training exercise they were doing which made the two of them sit over by the sidelines whilst they’d have to watch the others. y/n mind currently lingering on the one word logan had said to her in the past span of the past four days. a blunt, ‘move’ which he said right before the hologram off a training robot was about to kill her and the second she moved and he had ‘sorted” it out he walked off like she was never anything to him and he didn’t look back once or say another word.

it hurt her too the bone and the list of questions she had was never ending now, the aching feeling worsening per second in the same room as him as her eyes wondered on him as she watched as he trained.

scott looking at how deep in thought she was making his own heart hurt as he felt the guilt rise in his, for not addressing logan and how she must’ve been feeling. the tension coating through y/n at a high point as scott got the courage to speak and break the looming silence.

“finally that’s over.” scott scoffed out lowly which brung y/n out the staring contest she was having with the floor as she sighed at scott’s words, giving him a nod in return as she slouched back a little. scott noticing her somewhat closeness as he placed his arm around her, trying to be a comfort, as she leaned against his touch almost instantly. her head falling down to rest on his shoulder as she felt the weights of her emotions falter a bit at scott’s comforting touch.

something she’d almost started to get used to within the past couple days since those swings had become a meeting place for them late at night, if they wanted to rant.. or couldn’t sleep, they’d go there and talk. last night it was for a good hour or two, maybe three.

“i just wanna go to sleep.” y/n brung herself to speak up, her voice hoarse as scott sighed with her words. his touch tightening on her yet his grip was still as soft as ever as he placed his chin against her forehead.

“rough day?” scott asked quietly, his voice slipping out lowly into her ear as y/n nodded against his touch.

“rogues making me be a wolf for the party.” she cursed out.

“god.” scott chuckled out, finding that stupid and horrible at the same time as he moved his hand up and down y/n’s shoulder as his eyes lingered on the training scene that was soon to being over. scott catching logan’s cold gaze for a moment before logan looked away with a stern look on his face like usual.

scott ignoring it as he spoke up, “you should’ve done the group costume with me. padme suits you.”

“i wish i did but i can’t now bobby’s not going and rogues relying on me. it’s stupid.” y/n shuddered out, her voice low as she felt annoyed at the thought.

“i know.” scott replied, shifting his body slightly closer to her owns. “swings again tonight?”

he asked softly, y/n nodding against him as she was about to speak up when the hologram switched off. her eyes adjusting to the blue large room that dawned on her as scott leaned back, keeping his hand around her as she slipped back into his grip as she leant up — her eyes watching logan’s from across the room, as that feeling arised in her chest.

“i say go trap him.” scott spoke up which made her jump out little staring contest she was having with him as she moved her gaze onto scott, shaking her head plainly.

“i don’t even know if i wanna speak to him after how cold he’s been, he’s a hairy prick.” y/n cursed out under her breath as scott laughed.

“that’s bull and you know it.” scott spoke, knowing y/n all too well as he nudged her. “go.”

“it’s not like i even want him anymore. i just wanna scream at him for hurting you and being such a cunt.” y/n half lied out, her voice harsher at the thought of getting to speak to him, as she held back what else she wanted to say and stuck with that idea to keep her sanity as strong as it could be. scott not commenting on what she said despite how badly he knew it to not be the truth as he gave her a little smile, the low laugh escaping his lips making her take a deep breath in.

“go do it. i’ll deal with the others so you two are alone.” scott rolled out as he tapped her shoulder to get her up which made a chill rush through her body as she swallowed her pride as she brung her eyes onto scott’s.

the smile on his lips convincing her to do it enough as she let the words escape her lips, “fine.”

with her words scott smiled as he let his hand around y/n’s shoulder drop, “go!” he ushered out as y/n rolled her eyes as she stood up and started to walk over to where logan was.

“thank me later.” scott called out to her before he got up himself , walking over to storm and hank who were in conversation with jean who were walking out the room. the perfect scenario.

scott’s eyes peaking back as he was about to leave the room with the others as he saw logan searching through his jacket , scott taking in y/n walking over strongly.

scott meeting y/n’s gaze as she looked back to him giving her a nod before he disappeared out the door with the others. which left y/n and logan in complete silence in the room as y/n watched as logan grabbed a cigar out his coat pocket after putting it on, her swallowing as she noted how he definitely didn’t notice she was still in here.

that fact just making her brain a little fuzzy as she pulled the courage to put her tough demeanour on, swallowing the heartache as she leaned against the wall next to him. logan’s eyes tearing onto hers at the movement he heard as he took in her appearance which haulted him lighting cigar and immediately haunted him. his eyes cascading over her body as he roughly swallowed before his gaze met her harsh, narrowed, eyes.

“you’ve been ignoring me.” y/n spoke out which completely captured his attention as her eyes didn’t leave his for a moment. the eye contact she was getting from him making her weak in every way but she kept herself strong, her eyes narrowed onto him as she watched as he raised an eyebrow at her words as he lit his cigar, taking a hit before he scoffed as the smoke left his lips, filling the room.

“no i haven’t.” he gruffly let out as he brung his gaze away from her as he started to walk off, past her. y/n scoffing as she went after him, taking a step in front of him to stop him going any further as his throat tightened at her action. his eyes falling back down to her own.

“im pretty sure you have.” y/n replied back stubbornly as he raised an eyebrow at her words, scoffing once again. the tension in the room completely shifted even to a heaviness that she hadn’t experienced before with him.

“mm—well you’ve been pretty busy with scott i didn’t think you’d notice too much.” logan rolled out harshly, his voice low and hoarse which sent a chill through y/n’s body as the weight off his words sunk in. her eyes widening as she instantly shook her head, tutting as she took in what the petty bastard just said as she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat back down.

“and what the hell is that supposed to mean?” y/n quickly replied, her anger only rising at what he had said as she couldn’t believe what he had just told her. the words from him being slightly shocking as she took in the look that crossed his face as he shrugged his shoulders.

“you tell me sweetheart.” he growled out before he pushed past her, y/n’s mouth falling agap at his words as she sighed heavily. his words ringing in her head as she gulped. teleporting so she was in front of him which stopped him right as he was about to leave the door which made him jump a little. cigar smoke leaving his lips and going right into her face as he coughed out of surprise off her being there, being caught off guard by her action as she stayed frozen in place in front of himas she stepped forward thinking that would result in him stepping back. but it didn’t.

her holding back the urge to quiver back due to the closeness as she worked up the courage to speak, her eyes locked onto his as she lowly spoke up, “you hurt him.”

“who wouldn’t?” logan replied back gruffly, his jaw clenched as he almost laughed at the patheticness of what she had stated, the way she was trying to defend him making him feel a number of ways about the situation.

his words only angered y/n heavily as she kept her eyes narrowed onto his, questions running through her mind as she tried to keep her composure up as if the distance wasn’t killing hers inside. her breath hitching as his words caused her anger to rise as she took in just how rude he was being, this making her emotions grow inside of her breath brushed against his neck as she looked up at him. her heart stinging and she swore her eyes were too as she roughly swallowed, feeling her heartbeat in her ears as she bit down her pride and quickly spoke.

“did i do something?” she managed to say — her voice almost breaking at just that hint of hurt in her voice tore logan’s eyes away from her as those words fell into the air as she didn’t tare her eyes away from him once. seeing the way his face changed as she could hear his heartbeat crazily pumping and if she really thought close with her powers she could read his every though right now and that’d help her understand what he was feeling but she couldn’t do that to him ever. herself being mesmerised by the way his eyes looked as if they were watering as she added out, “you haven’t spoke to me in four days logan.”

her words met the air harshly as logan swallowed roughly as he took a rough inhale of his cigar in retaliation to what she had just said, looking to y/n coldly as he bit down all the emotion he was suppressing as he exhaled after. the silence deafening as she waited for anything, any answer. his face not giving anything away.

her searched his own as the silence grew before he eventually spoke up, which made everything worse.

“yeah and for good reason.” he replied lowly, y/n’s eyebrows twitching as she kept her gaze on his holding back a yell and the urge to punch him.

his harshness was enough to ruin her completely as she bit down on the inside of her cheek as she spoke up lowly, “and what is that?” y/n’s question failing to bring any peace to the two of them as logan grew angrier as he bit the bullet and quickly spoke up.

“ask scott since you care about him so much suddenly.” logan cursed out under his breath as he leaned over her and opened the door up, going to push past her.

“you’re fucking joking right?” she quickly said — the weight off his words hitting he as she placed her hand against his chest to stop him from moving anymore which just made his anger stronger as she roughly shoved him back. not meaning to that but it happened, his eyebrows raising at her action.

“watch it..” he said harshly, his voice gruff as he put out his half finished cigar against his skin, holding back any sign of hurt as he placed the rest off it back into his pocket. y/n studying every inch of his face with anger the only emotion showcased on hers as his eyes felt like they were taunting her.

her words coming out so quickly due to her growing annoyance, anger and hurt over the situation she couldn’t help herself, “maybe you should watch it since you can’t stop sleeping with someone that was engaged a good four days ago.”

the words that escaped her lips pushed logan to an extreme as his anger bursted as he felt all that pent up emotion he’d been hiding scream and claw its way out as he roughly grabbed her, pushing her against the wall harshly with a loud thud as his hand roughly wrapped round her throat.

“she was engaged to a cunt.” logan growled out, y/n seeing how seething he was as her breath hitched at their closeness. his grip only tightening on her neck as she held back any whimpers threatening to escape her lips as she kept her eyes locked onto his own, feeling his body pressed against her own as the heat rose between them.

“you do know if she cheated on him she’d cheat on you happily.” y/n harshly muttered out, her breath slightly hitched due to how harshly he was holding her against the wall. her words only pissing him off more as he stared her down, his fingers digging into her skin.

“you’ve just been aching to say something like that haven’t you? you hate her.” logan said rudely, his grip on y/n’s throat still heavy so much that it would defintely bruise. the closeness sending her body into a mixed frenzy as she grew angrier at everything he said. the tension in the air suffocating her. “you always have.” he spit out rudely.

“and whys that?” logan trailed out before giving y/n a chance to respond, his voice teasing as if he knew the answer already. his tone making her feelings worse as she couldn’t move her eyes away from him as she was close to practically gasping for air already due to how harshly he had her.

y/n roughly swallowed, logan’s hands tightly gripping her throat making all her feelings worse as she found the words, “i’m pretty sure scott’s told you something that could be a factor.” she cursed out sarcastically. his eyes darkening as she studied every inch of his expression.

he narrowed his eyes at her words his anger radiating off him as he kept his grip on her, biting down on his lip at her words as his eyes didn’t leave hers for a second. y/n reading all sort of emotions within them as the tension swallowed her whole. feelings she’d never felt before cowering through her as she couldn’t move an inch, practically frozen.

“that prick told me a whole lot of nothing.” logan harshly let out as y/n raised an eyebrow at his words, his hand on her throat slipping a little as his anger seethed as he spoke again no matter how much he didn’t want too say it.

“apparently you could’ve been hurt.” he spit out like it was venom, y/n’s eyes leaving his for a second at his words as she swallowed roughly. her action annoying logan senseless as her moved his hand roughly to her jaw, turning her face to look back up at him. her breath hitching at his action.

“so you were?” he casted out, his gaze not leaving hers for a second as his harsh eyes took all of her in.

“by what?—you and jean?” y/n mustered out harshly, his grip falling right back to her throat at the stupidness of her words as his grip was ten times tighter then it was before. y/n having never seen this harshness from him before, and to say she didn’t like it would be a lie.

“jesus don’t play dumb with me kid.” he shook out harshly, his words another level of harsh as heat flooded her body as he pushed himself closer to her as she was roughly held against the wall.

“what if i was?” y/n scoffed out seeing the flash off weakness in logan’s eyes before he swallowed, a scoff escaping his lips as the tightness around her neck loosened as she caught her breath.

it was like there was something working in brain as the words sunk in, y/n watching as he swallowed once again. moving his gaze away before roughly shaking his head, his hand slipping off her throat but the closeness was still there as he looked back to her. almost fighting with himself and y/n could read that all over his face.

“you’d be stupid because i love jean.” he grunted out coldly as his words hit her harshly as she tried to fight that feeling rising in her as she brung herself to nod, swallowing those words she so wanted to scream in his face right now.

“i know.” y/n spoke out lowly, not bringing herself to deny his words or even state anything about them regarding her as she felt the feelings of hurt take over her, her observing a hint of hurt in logan’s eyes as she felt the hole in her grow twenty million times bigger as she watched him take a step back— y/n biting down the emotions threatening to show as she looked at him. the tightness feeling still around her neck despite his touch no longer being present, something right now she was craving.

the air was thick with tension as y/n swallowed, not being able to look away from him, as she could see the look on his face. one of practical knowing, he could read through her half assed words.

“so why the hell did you ignore me for?” y/n roughly asked him as she changed the topic slightly, gaining control of her hitched voice again which was hoarse due to how logan had just been holding her throat. her voice enlaced with anger as she stared down at logan, him tearing his gaze away before shaking his head as he tried to form the words as he met her gaze again.

“you just—don’t—look i didn’t want to hurt you kid.” logan ushered out, y/n getting an idea of exactly what he meant by those words as she swallowed roughly as she fought to keep her gaze on him. the weight in the air horrible as the tension had switched to this sense of nervousness and awkwardness between them.

“you ignoring me hurt me.” y/n said harshly as logan swallowed as he teared his eyes away from y/n as he stepped back.

“i didn’t mean too.” he rolled out, fighting with the urge to do many things he just couldn’t as he looked over her. shaking the thoughts out his brain as he took in the look of hurt on her face, she wasn’t hiding well.

“sure.” y/n almost whispered out , the room falling silent as logan scoffed roughly at her words before shaking his head in retaliation as he then pressed the button to open the door, almost in a hissy fit as y/n’s eyebrows raised at his action.. “logan—“ she called out as he immediately left at her words as she went right after him without another thought.

“logan! wa-“ she called out, cutting off her own words and stopping in her tracks once she saw him standing in the hallway frozen. her gaze stuck on him until she observed where he was looking and followed his eyes until she landed on scott at the end of the hall, immediately swallowing roughly as logan’s eyes were locked onto his. the harshness present in his gaze and scott’s too as logan brung his dark gaze onto her.

y/n’s mind doing a huge spin as logan’s face held a cruel expression on it as he saw who was waiting for her, it being like another switch had flipped within him as y/n observed his jaw clenching and him biting down on his cheek as their eyes were on each other.

“think your boyfriends waiting for you bub.” logan muffled out rudely, his voice hoarse as he moved his gaze back onto scott giving him ome last glare before turning on his heel without another word and dissappearing down the hall. y/n scoffing at his words as she swallowed, debating going after him but her thoughts were stopped when she realised scott walking over to her.

“that didn’t go so well then?” scott commented softly, his eyes meeting her own as she shook her head straight away. the smile that was on his face dropping as he let out a harsh breath.

“not one bit.” y/n whispered out as scott gave her a sad smile, wrapping his arm round her side as the two started to walk down to the elevator.

y/n completely unbeknownst to the fact that logan watched as the two walked away, scott’s hand around her waist a burning picture in logan’s mind for the rest of the day as the anger inside him grew. his heart longing for something he couldn’t even mutter to his own brain out of fear for his strong the feeling was.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

halloween had come and you wished it hadn’t. your usual favourite season been replaced with all this shit stirring inside you to the point when it come round you didn’t even know if you could even be bothered to go to the party but you knew you had no choice which is why once you started to get ready you and rogue pregamed secretly, her having got bobby to bring some alcohol for you two as a constellation prize for him not being able to come which he did of course.. he did practically everything she asked and seeing them so in love made you sick half the time no matter how happy you were for rogue it did just remind you of your own lack of love.

tonight the liquor burnt your throat harshly to another extreme and the second you started you wished you never but there was no going back — your feelings being swept under the rug as you and rogue finished your drinks as the two of you got ready. her doing your makeup as you hummed to the music playing on her speakers which drowned out the growing noise of the party downstairs as your mind swirled over logan and scott, who had ended up asking you to go with him to this party which you of course said yes too, whilst rogue tried her best to take your mind off it.

not that it was working the slightest bit. rogue knew about the argument — she had heard the story a good six or seven times since it happened two days ago and she couldn’t even comprehend it let alone you. ‘team scott’ was what she had been saying for the first remainder of the night whenever you spoke about it which now just made you shut up about it because you couldn’t think straight when scott’s name was in the mix.

the anguish and hurt that had been displayed on your face for the past two days disappearing by the more you drunk. feeling more carefree by the moment as you and rogue eventually made your way down to the party.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

the party so far was a drunken mess from everyone around y/n as she locked eyes with logan for what felt like the 30th time in the past hour or so from the other side of the crowded living room. y/n roughly swallowing once their eyes met with his captivating gaze never dropping or leaving her own for a second and it had felt like that for the entire night despite his hand that was plainly wrapped around jean’s waist as they talked with wade and vanessa. y/n’s nose scrunching up as she observed that once again before she turned away burying her lips within another glass as she took a generous sip of the drink scott had got her.

rogue being in conversation with pyro who was playing with the hem of her shirt, y/n close to butting in just to make sure rogue was good because she knew how quickly she got drunk but she cut off with scott’s voice as he leaned over to her. his hand wrapping around her shoulder as he pulled her closer to her, the drunkness evident within him as every single time y/n saw him drink he seemed to get 10x more clingy.

“shall—we, shots?” scott rolled out as y/n met his gaze, a smile joining her lips at his drunk mess as she couldn’t help chuckle as he pulled her even closer to him to the point she was practically edging to be sat on him.

“we’re both far gone already.” y/n stammered out as scott couldn’t help a cheeky grin join on his lips as his hand stayed around her waist, his eyes focused up on her and his eyes were so heavily resembling a cute puppy dog through his visor she couldn’t stop the little blush coating her cheeks. her feelings amplified by the alcohol.

“cmon i’ve never seen you back down.” scott teased out, his voice a low and slurred whisper as y/n took in his words, them making her feel a number of things as she couldn’t stop herself from leaning over him as she grabbed two shots from the tray on the coffee table.

“it’s your fault if i start dancing in a minute.”

“oh, like dirty dancing?” scott referenced as he quipped his eyebrow up, y/n laughing at his words as she felt his eyes burning into her as she took the shot. y/n placing her shot back down on the table once she swallowed it as she looked back to scott, seeing how he hadn’t torn his eyes away from her, the shot still full in his hand as his eyes were focused on y/n as she smiled down at him, his hand keeping her close to him as she felt something inside her growing.

“mm definitely.” y/n chimed out as scott couldn’t hide the smirk that grew on his lips at the thought.

“good.” he said deeply as he took the shot right after speaking. y/n finding her mind a mess with his words as she moved her eyes back to the corner where logan was seeing him standing there, eyes narrowed on her but before the eye contact couldnt go prolonged for any moment longer as hank slid into the empty space in the sofa next to them between rogue and pyro who were clearly shitfaced already which captured y/n’s attention.

“where is my sanity?” hank rolled out as he sighed as he sunk into the sofa, y/n looking his costume up and down as she raised an eyebrow over it. scott leaning over y/n to see what he was, a smile on his lips as he saw it.

“frankestine you lost that many years ago.” y/n rolled out as hank gave her a look, scott laughing as it was the funniest thing she had said in the world as she could feel herself get daggers from across the crowded room. her swallowing as hank dug his own little grave into the sofa as she grabbed another shot as scott leaned back into the sofa, y/n unsubconciously leaning against his touch after putting the now empty shot glass on the table after downing it like it was water.

“yeah and what the hell are you?” hank casted out right before wade butted in.

“she’s wolverine if he was sexier and underage.” wade said lowly, giving y/n a little head bop with his hand as he made hank move over, wade sliding in next to y/n as scott scoffed at what he said as wades eyes dawned on scott.

“god you two move on quick.” he tumbled out, y/n shoving him in his side at his words as he fake winced in pain. hank rolling his eyes as he looked to scott and y/n.

“no! but you do make a good couple.” hank said tipsily as y/n felt her face going red as scott glanced over at her overviewing that sight as he felt a certain feeling grow in him at the knowledge. that familiar ache within her getting harder to have to deal with now as she pushed it down with another shot, scott sighing as she did so as he shot wade and hank a look which his drunkness made more obvious.

“yeah—quit it guys.” scott said lowly despite how he really felt about it as y/n leaned back into his touch, the closeness limiting her thoughts as scott brung his eyes over to hank only to be cut off with logan’s gaze from across the room.

logan’s eyes permanently dented onto scott as he sensed the anger radiating off him from across the room, scott having to cancel out the vision of jean right next to him trying to grab logan’s attention as he swallowed roughly with this making his grip on y/n tighter as he moved his eyes to hank. a sly smile on his lips as he could sense his rage from across the room which only got worse, that feeling making him feel good as if he forgot about jean being over there.

“frankie with the glasses got a point.” wade said swiftly as he dug into his pockets as scott sighed as y/n sent him a soft smile to let him know it was fine as hank decided to drown his emotions into the bottom of his glass. halloween music blaring through the speakers that nearly everyone in the room was dancing too, wade humming to himself as he brung something out his pocket.

“cocaine anyone?” he brushed out off the tongue as if it was nothing, y/n’s eyes widening a little at her friends habit as she felt her heart skip a beat as she looked over to wade as rogue leaned over hank with a raised eyebrow to see what was going on, her clearly judging him as y/n couldn’t help ponder over it for a second. but before she could even voice her little curiosity that wade could tell just from how she was looking at him she had the sound of the one guy she had been hating for the past two days, more like week, and who had been avoiding her like she was striker spoke up.

“put that shit away wade there’s kids at this party.” logan’s voice harshly let out which knocked y/n’s heart down a view pegs as she looked up to meet his gaze. his cold eyes not looking to her once as she noticed how focused he was on wade as his jaw clenched.

“wow you were watching me like hawkeye!” wade rolled out, “or too busy gawking at y/n still?” he said which installed an instant tension between the joint group as y/n swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat at wades blatant stupidness.

logan didn’t even buy into the shit he was saying, eyes narrowed on wade as he took a step closer to him past the coffee table as if that was a threat wade would notice or care about, “there are kids at this party wade. put it away.” logan followed out roughly, anger growing within him as he glanced over to y/n. their eyes meeting as his eyes lingered on her as he took in the way scott was sitting so close to her as if she was his to protect.

wade tutted at logan’s words as he raised an eyebrow at what he said, “it’s sixteen up peanut and they’re all doing this in the bathroom anyway aren’t they y/n?” wade waved away at you, “go on,go check with your mind.” wade said cockily towards you as he paused for dramatic effect as logan’s gaze narrowed even more on wade as he spoke up again as he looked back to logan, “see they are! loosen up cowboy.”

logan tutting as his gaze met y/n’s own before he looked back to wade, swallowing harshly.

“wade.” he growled out roughly, logan not letting his eyes move off wade’s for a second as y/n could see the anger deeply rooted on his face. scott scoffing as he decided to get involved.

“wade just take it somewhere else.” scott managed out, y/n’s eyes moving to his as his words hit the air as wade snorted in reply, a low laugh leaving his lips as scott was staring at logan. the uncomfortably in the situation rising so much y/n didn’t realise pyro and rogue sneak off together.

“i don’t need your back up.” logan scoffed out harshly, crossing his arms as he kept his gaze on wade not even tearing his eyes to scott. y/n finding his maturity ,lack there off, stupid as scott held back a sigh at his words as he kept his arm around y/n, deciding that was all needed to piss logan off right now as he didn’t even want to make a comment back or even have the energy too.

“this rooms full of adults.” wade chimed out, logan’s anger growing.

“wade— just fucking—“ logan started out only to be cut off by y/n’s voice.

“drop it logan.” y/n rolled out which made logan’s eyes fall down to her, seeing her all snuggly with scott making him another level of pissed off as he raised an eyebrow at her words.

“what? you joining wade?” logan growled out, his voice harsh and rude as y/n swallowed. scott going to butt in as wade observed what was going on, a sly smile growing on his lips as y/n spoke before scott got the chance too.

“just drop it. you heard wade.” y/n said back harshly to him which made logan tutt as he didn’t look away from y/n at all.

“sure i heard wade and i know you aren’t a fucking adult.” he bit out harshly, making y/n feeling a number of things as scott jumped in, “don’t talk to her like that.” he said harshly, logan’s eyebrows raising at scott’s words as he took in scott, looking y/n and him up and down before he bit down on his tongue. his anger having been raised by wade and now it was only getting worse

“or what? i’m pretty sure she can stand up for herself.” logan replied harshly which made scott’s anger rise within him as y/n got inbetween their words. hank and wade watching the three of them like it was a reality tv show.

“logan stop it.” she ushered out quickly, giving him a cold look as he met her gaze as the two stared at eachother, him not backing down for a second as she fixated her gaze on him. her heart unsteady at this prolonged harshness he had for her.

“is that all you can say kid?” logan scoffed out angrily which made y/n swallow harshly as scott’s grip tightened on her in a way of attempted comfort that right now was just making it worse. the pressure immense as wade’s eyes fell between y/n and logan. seeing how y/n was taking it, seeing through the demeanour. he could practically see her snapping. breaking.

“no. you’re an asshole and i’m not a kid, so leave it and fuck off too jean will you?” y/n shapped out harshly, her words coming out strongly as all three of them on the sofa amongst her didn’t expect those words to come out her mouth, wade’s mouth falling agap as did hank’s as they tried to hide the shocked expression overtaking their faces as scott swallowed harshly.

the tension risen as logan’s voice was as he immediately came back at her, “you’re a little baby compared to everyone here and you know that, also you don’t get a fucking right to talk about jean.” his harsh words were like a knife to the side as y/n laughed at what he said as scott held back the urge to speak up when logan mentioned jean’s name, it just being a habit he had, as y/n kept her eyes up on logan as she swallowed down her feelings. anger being the only thing prominent in her brain for him currently.

“okay maybe you guys should take this somewhere else.” hank trailed off, sensing the seriousness of the conversation and defintely being able to hear the feelings enlaced within both their words as wade hushed him.

“no, no i just need to get my popcorn. keep going!” wade tumbled out which made y/n turn to look at him with a harsh look, wade seeing the emotion in her eyes as she left his gaze and she searched the sofa for rogue. it just being hank and wade right where rogue and pyro once were sat.

“where th—“ she stopped herself from finishing as she realised the stupidness off her words before she quickly remarked, “you’re an asshole.” to logan as she quickly got up, scott’s hand falling off her waist as she stood up as she got face to face with logan instantly walking right past him and disappearing into the crowd.

“see what you did!” scott cursed out as he tutted, going to stand up to get her when logan instantly stood in front of him. placing his hand over his chest as he pushed him back down.

“stay.” logan said strongly before he gave wade and hank a look before disappearing right after her.

+ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n turned as many corners as she could as her mind become even off a spinning mess as she made her way out to the courtyard where it was completely pissing it down but she couldn’t care less in the moment, just needing air and a break to recollect her thoughts, as she tumbled down the steps. her heart aching as she heard the door slam shut a few seconds later after she had left them. soon the faint sound of footsteps following her making her feel a number of things as she heard nothing him call after her. “where the hell are you going?” logan yelled out after her as she kept on walking, him running after her and eventually catching up to her.

catching his breath as he roughly grabbed her wrist to make her stop in in the middle of the field as he turned her around to meet his gaze, her breath noticing as it felt like her world stopped at that touch as she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“y/n.” he quickly let out with a raised voice so she could hear him over the pouring rain, the two of them getting drenched under the dark skies as she kept her gaze on him. trying to shake his hand off her own but he didn’t budge one bit.

“y/n!” he called back out when she didn’t answer — trying to grab her attention as he fought her way to finally look at him, swallowing a lump that was in her throat as their eyes met.

“what logan! what do you want? you’ve been nothing but cold and rude to me for a week and after what you just said to me there and what you said last time we spoke i don’t exactly wanna speak to you! so let go off me—“ y/n shouted out to him, her breath hitting a little as her voice broke a little as her confusing and distressing emotions got the best of her as they started to slip out.

logan’s breath hitched completely at her words as he grew more frustrated, “fuck, y/n! i —“ he cut himself off, moving his hand off her as he moved his hand through his hair in a stressful manner, not wanting to be sensitive at all but he could feel it all coming out as she felt her heart break as he took a step back. his shaky voice just being a reminder of everything he’s said before and how horrible he’s been recently, but it also reminded her off the man she thought she loved.

“what? logan? what!” she stammered right back out, her breath hitched as he looked at her. his mouth agap as he was fighting for the words. “i—“

“you what? you hate me? because good! i hate you too.” y/n tumbled out before turning on her heel, logan’s heart in his chest as he watched her as she started to walk away, just being able to make her out as the rain started to pour even harder. the chill down his back snapping him to reality as he quickly screamed back at her.

“y/n! for fucks sake, i’m in love with you!” he called back at her, his voice raised as he screamed that for her to hear through the loud harsh rain. y/n pausing in her tracks as his words hit her like a tidal wave.

her breath growing uncontrollable as she felt her chest rising, swallowing before she slowly turned back to meet his eyes. the distance vast between them as the rain filled her vision but she could see him, the rain pouring down on her face only making her emotions worse as she swallowed.

“what?” she yelled back at him, her voice shaking as she heard him curse under her breath.

“i’m petrified, y/n i’m fucking petrified because i love you so much it hurts.” he quaked out, his voice raising as his breathing became ragged and uneven, his body practically trembling under the coldness of the rain as he looked at her.

“logan—“

“no— don’t say anything else. just listen to me.” logan quickly spoke, taking steps over to y/n until he was a mere few inches away. her eyes dawning up on him as she swallowed roughly, her mind a mess.

“i get scared okay? i got scared because you, you’re everything. i got scared when i knew you felt the way i did i didn’t know how to deal with it. i don’t want to hurt you, i can’t. it’d break me in every way there is.” he rambles out strongly, “and i don’t love jean—i can’t when you exist.” he finished out, his words meaning everything as y/n kept her gaze on him.

her breath shaking at his confession as she looked at him wide eyed, his words hanging in the air as a thick silence grew. y/n taking in everything about logan’s face, the way he looked at her as she tried to wrack her thoughts around what she had just heard. questions falling through her brain as her mouth opened to speak, trying to find the words but instead of words she was met with logan’s lips against her own.

his hands falling around her waist as he pulled her to him softly, the roughness missing within this warm embrace as his kiss was full of desire and passion, the heated kiss making her feel a mixture of emotions as she let him take control of it. her body shaking due to the warmth from his body and the coldness from the rain soaking them as y/n’s drunken mind was lingering on one guy snd she couldn’t bring herself to admit who it was, not right now. her breath shaky as logan’s other hand fell down to her waist as he pulled her closer to him, her hand cupping his cheek as she kissed him back strongly.

the kiss growing more heated as he roughly bit down on her lip, a low whimper escaping her lip at his action as he groaned at just the way she sounded against him as he fought for dominance. the heat rushing between them as he pulled her as close as he could, wanting to taste every inch of her lips. her breath shaky as logan and her eventually pulled away from the kiss — his eyes falling down on hers as so much need for her was within his gaze as y/n looked up at him, her lips feeling swollen as she swallowed anxiously.

her not even able to say anything back or move, her body frozen as everything she had been fantasying about for the past year had just happened right there. and she didn’t know if it felt right or not.

she knew she loved him, she had for years, but as she looked at him now it was completely different.

and she couldn’t help but wonder why that heart ache she thought was down to logan was still present within her and no matter what she wanted to believe she knew deep down that she had fell so quickly and easily for someone else that standing here in front of logan the main feeling she had was guilt for kissing him back.