#I still like looking at fake casting though

[an-architect-of-words]

I’ve been in The Secret History fandom for three days and one of my favorite things is that everyone seems to look at each other, nod, and go “this would be an awful movie.”

[snekdood]

now ik why they didnt have aang and katara have any time getting close, bc people would be fuckin weird about it huh

[astrxq]

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

The Dragon's Bride

jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

words: 17k (oops?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jacaerys nodded, his throat tight. Still silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jacaerys’ brows furrowed in deep contemplation. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you replied, meeting his gaze. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I cannot do that,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded, “I do,” 

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

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

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

“What would?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, that's not what I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The preparations proceeded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No-” he interrupted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[alittlebitofrainbyyourside]

I know y'all *can't* know but also.... I feel really bad for all the people who are really into Online D/s who don't know that the last time I wrote a slow burn,

it was 70k before the characters kissed. and they too were in a weird D/s relationship.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

Hi! I know you just wrote a cockwarming fic with Alastor, but I was just wondering if you would be able to do one with Lucifer? I’m drooling just thinking about it. Thank you!

absolutely i don’t mind doing the same shtick but with other characters! i took a similar approach kinkwise but obviously it’s still different, hope you enjoy <3

warnings: cockwarming, lucifer is kinda a sub but not entirely, exhibitionism, not caught this time, creampie, gn reader i think in terms of body, lucifer calls you birdy, kinky reader and kinky luci, also not proofread, swearing and some dirty talk lmk if i missed any!!

word count: 1.4K

You sat on Lucifers lap, toying with his hair that peeked out of his hat. Lucifer insisted he had company to one of his all important long of hell meetings, however things went left when Mammon urged the king to come to one of his performances, that was definitely for the kings benefit and not just so Mammon could leech off his fame. So there you two sat, up in your own custom web which Lucifer was very much against but Mammon was pushy persuasive. So far things had been a bore, you sat on Lucifers lap paying more attention to the intricacies on his suit rather than the clowns on stage. Lucifer also seemed pretty bored, huffing and puffing occasionally, while muttering into your ear about how this was a scam or how he’d done this act a thousand times, needless to say you both be better off back at his home.

Eyeing up his bored face you casually traced your fingers along his jaw. “Hey Luce,” You whispered to him softly, his eyes casting down to you. “Wanna have a lil fun?” You grinned cheekily wiggling your hips against his, immediately he sucked in a breath, eyes closing. Lucifer wasn’t really good at hiding the need he had for you, often he would crumble under your hands, rarely he decided to be big and domineering, he much preferred when you had the power over him. Felt nice giving up power to someone after all the rest of his eternal life in hell there was no other choice but to stay in power.

“Whatever you want, birdy.” He cooed, eyes casted toward the stage acting as though he was indifferent to you. You unzipped the zipper on his white slacks, and reached your hand inside to palm his soft member. He wasn’t really insecure about being soft around you he was quite prideful in his body no matter the state, occasionally he’d feel not good enough but that typically had nothing to do with his looks, which you admit to being quite jealous of. You palmed him through his briefs, head rested on his shoulder you were annoyed at how the collar of his coat got in the way of his neck, prohibiting you from leaving pretty bruise marks on him. The king twitched, and coughed out fakely to cover the groans he wanted to make, he couldn’t help how sensitive he was when it came to you, it was like you had this spell on him.

Wiggling yourself closer to him you whispered to him, lips dragging sinfully across his ear. “What if somebody sees you like this Luci?” You purr mockingly, you knew he probably wouldn’t give a fuck, he’s been through too much as a king and a fallen angel to care about such things, nonetheless, hearing your scrutinizing tone furthered his arousal. He wasn’t, however, proud of the noise he made when your hand came up to tug at his hair at the base of his neck. “Ohhh golly,” Lucifer groaned beginning in a moan, he quickly fixed his mouth to act as though he was reacting to the show. “You want them to see us, don’t you?” You urged, feeling him grown and stiffen beneath you, it made your thighs clench with need, and suddenly you were onto more devious ideas. Lifting your garments, you pulled your underwear to the side as discreetly as you could. Lucifers eyes fixed on you, brown raised in confusion. “Cmon, let’s relax hm?” You asked, pulling his semi from the restraints of his briefs, pecking his lips as you did so. His eyes closed immediately, mouth chasing your lips as you pulled away, and who were you to deny such a good boy?

Leaning back in you hummed into him, his lips warm and soft, you could feel his lashes flutter against your face as your faces tilted, allowing eachother better access. You sneakily slipped onto him, wincing at the pain that you felt, however Lucifers arms came around to your thighs, helping you slow your pace. You felt every inch of him against your walls, it was hard to not whimper at the feeling of him slotted in you.

As your tongues sloppily danced together, the clown music played in the background, Glitz and Glam came up to perform, and the crowd cheered on. Beside your web was the greed king himself Mammon, who was too observed in the show to notice the fact you and Lucifer were swallowing each other whole. While the two of you sloppily kissed, saliva smearing across each others lips, your body naturally relaxed into his effectively sinking yourself down and bottoming out on his full erect cock.

Sighing against him in revelled in the feeling of him fully inside you, while also enjoying the way he trembled beneath you, not feeling the need to hide any of his desire from you. You pulled away abruptly leaving Lucifer whining, and starry eyed. Jerking up into you Lucifer smiled smuggly at the way you gasped, air entirely escaping your lungs. “How mean Luci,” You chide playfully lovelingly cupping his cheek. Leaning into your warmth the devil melted against your touch practically purring at you. “What can i say birdy, i’m eager to hear you. My favourite sound.” You could tell by the dreamy way he spoke he was already fucked out, and you’ve not even fucked yet.

Pecking his cheek you swatted his chest when he tried once again to grind into you. “No moving, whoever cums first has to call and talk on the phone while the other fucks em silly.” You grin wildly gripping his shoulders, you loved a good frisky game of fun, especially with Lucifer, you found it easy to participate in these types of games. Groaning lowly the devil rolled his neck, hands wrapping around your waist tightly. “Alright, but i'm totally gonna win.” Lucifer stated confidently, his red eyes flipping between you and the show. Glitz and Glam gone, there was some unnamed clown you’d never seen now entertaining the crowd, they seemed to like him.

You wiggled your hips subtly, trying to turn your body around a bit more toward the stage. Part of you wanted the distraction, part of you wanted to tease, either way it was purposeful. “Ohhohoo- you are- really playing dirty,” The king stressed, his tone jumping around anxiously as his claws tug into your thighs, undoubtedly drawing some blood. You hummed out an ‘mhm’ swirling hips round in a manner that could appear as innocent shifting to the outside eye looked casual. Lucifer moaned, curling into the back of your shoulder to bite down. You could feel him twitching almost like a throb, you weren’t helping with your involuntary contractions around his cock. “Alright sweetie calm down!” The king urged his voice breathy and panicked as he tried to stall your movements by clenching his arms around you. Unfortunately all that did was drag you nearer, feeling the entire length of him inside you grazing the delicate areas that made you tick.

You choked on your spit surprised by the abrupt sensation, your back arching away from him as you attempted to gain a little friction. “Lucifer please don’t,” You whined clutching his forarms that were flexed tightly around your torso. You could feel him nuzzling into your back, his heart beating wildly in his chest, then suddenly without any word, he was cumming. He moaned into your shoulder blades, bucking what he could up into you, rocking both your bodies, anything to get you to milk him. He continued to wiggle around recklessly, you clenched and whimpered at the feeling of him filling you, he always had so much in him. Finally after a moment his movement ceased, and like the devil he is, he snaked his hands around to play with you. You moaned as he whispered dirty things in your ear, “Who’s all needy now huh?,” “Cmon i need you raining off this web before we go,” things like that as he brought you to your orgasm.

You saw stars as you came, his dick still snuggly inside you as you clenched and came undone around him, head thrown back in bliss. After a moment of catching your breath you peered around, humility coming back into you, you spun around speedily, burying your face in Lucifers neck, who looked just as fucked out as you were. “Guess we gotta do this again over the phone?” Lucifer asked breathlessly, you huffed out a laugh at that. “Yep, loser.” You teased already thinking up all the naughty things you could put him through while he’s on call.

[httpsserene]

Speaking of Mr. Daniel, we all know that he injured himself a while ago. How about the reader faking an orgasm because she doesn’t want to tire or injure him? Daniel frowns immediately upon noticing, but the nurse kicks you out because it’s past hours, and he's longing for the reader. He tries to grab the reader to come back but winces in pain, proving the reader's point. Your pleasure is extremely important to him so he’ll stop functioning if you said otherwise.

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬

Summary: When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader(her skintone isn't referenced but she has braids.) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. orgasm/delay denial. hurt/comfort. caretaking. servicedom!daniel. discussion of pain medication, injuries, and hospitals. dom/sub undertones. sub/shy!reader. praise kink mentioned. sensual beard shaving (it's hot). wet dreams. somnophilia. safe, sane, and consensual. oral sex (m and f receiving). vaginal sex. fake orgasm. mentioned multiple orgasms. Word Count: 3.6k words

Author's Notes: if the tags scare you, i promise it's not that bad!

secondly, thank you for the patience concerning the delay. my sister is doing a lot better now! she had an allergic reaction to pollen; she inhaled so much that her lungs freaked the fuck out on her, and i was in the hospital from 9am-9pm all day. finally got back home so i'm posting it, way late, but at least it's on the same day.

to make up for it, even though my lil sis was nearly taken out by the environment (i'm joking i love her i'm just being a big sister rn), i am releasing episode four on friday! and episode five on either tuesday or wednesday next week!

i hope you all like this episode xxx

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

The sound of bedsheets ruffling contrasts with the monotonous beeps of the heart monitor filling the sterile hospital room; the noise is more than enough to have you snapping your head away from your phone to look at your boyfriend. Daniel’s awake and he meets your eyes with a soft groan. You coo at him softly, squeezing his hand gently as he reorients himself.

“What time ‘st?” Daniel croaks out. You cringe at the sound of his dry speech and quickly hand him the glass of water resting at his bedside.

“It’s getting late, baby,” you hum, not failing to notice the slight wince he does when his cast knocks against the bed rail, “I sent Michael back to the hotel not too long ago, around 7. Charles, Lando, Max, and Oscar came and kept me company while you were in surgery. Oscar, I think, was pretty shaken up still—to me, I could tell he felt a little guilty that you’re here with a broken hand and he’s as right rain—so, maybe when you’re more clear-headed you can reach out to him. Yuki and Michael were here the first time you woke up. Still, you were so high on your pain medication cocktail, that I think you were hearing colors and seeing sounds,” you break from your ramble, suddenly standing and reaching over the bed to press the call button, remembering the nurse told you to alert her as soon as he woke again.

“Yes?” Daniel offers, unsure of how to respond to the edge in your tone, “I’m feeling better by the way—.”

A hysterical giggle slips from your lips, and you can see the regret wash over his face when you meet his eyes with a crazed look, “Forgive me, for not asking how you were feeling right away Daniel. It’s almost like, my brain isn’t working properly because I’m fucking worried about you. Yeah? I watched you crash into the barriers, and I heard you in pain—I called everyone on your team to get updates and nobody answered! So, I got on the next flight to Zandvoort after Michael finally texted me with updates, with no luggage, just my phone and a change of clothes—so forgive me, for not checking in on you right away, after you didn’t call me once,” you blink rapidly and Daniel softens, clearly it was a terrible time to deflect with humor, he just hates to see you worry about him, that’s why he avoided calling. He’s usually the one taking care of you.

“A-are you feeling better, though?” you ask shakily, deflating quickly at the sight of his warm brown eyes, “You’re going to set off every metal detector for the foreseeable future.”

“It’s like a 6 out 10 on the pain scale—”

“That’s what I’m here for,” the nurse interrupts in accented English, smiling at the two of you briefly before she moves to Daniel’s side and catching him up on the outcome of the surgery and discussing pain medication. 

“Visiting hours ended an hour ago,” the nurse speaks to you directly, “Did nobody come to escort you out?”

You shake your head in surprise, the time on your phone reads 9 PM—you have no recollection of time passing that quickly since Michael left. Gathering your few belongings, you lean down to kiss Daniel gently, “Be good for the doctors and nurses, Danny. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”

“No, what—she can’t stay?” Daniel begs the nurse, and she frowns at him apologetically.

Ruffling his hair, you continue, “It’s not her fault—she’s just doing her job. And, we’re besties now,” Daniel stares at you confused, “She’s been coming to check up on me the entire time you decided to cosplay Sleeping Beauty so if you decide to be difficult overnight, she will not hesitate to snitch on you to me. Understand?”

Daniel swallows before nodding jerkily, “Can I have another kiss?”

It’s an easy ask for you to fulfill; but as your lips barely brush his, Daniel hisses out in pain. He tried to use his left hand to pull you closer to him, obviously aggravating the injury. You exclaim worriedly and he tries to pretend that the flare of pain wasn’t that severe. But, as the nurse reassures you that the pain meds will kick in and he’ll go right to sleep, you’ve already decided: that hand will never be in a situation that causes Daniel unnecessary pain again. 

You tell Daniel that same sentence on the flight back to Monaco. He assumed that meant you’d force him to wear a sling or have it constantly cushioned and elevated (which you did anyway). However, he should’ve asked you to elaborate because he was completely blindsided to learn that you really meant all situations. 

You may have gone overboard the first week. You’re well aware that his hand is the only broken thing on his body, but you pamper him as if he’s bedridden with the most severe flu seen in the last century. You cook and order him hearty meals, you have alarms set for when he needs to take his medication, you shower with him to make sure he doesn’t wet his cast—where nothing sexual happens, you killed the vibe the first time he insinuated shower sex in conversation, mentioning the statistics of shower-related deaths—you quickly fulfill all of his requests, even if it’s sitting through a movie you find tasteless; yet, you refuse to fulfill one: sex. 

The doctor pulled you aside while Daniel was getting dressed to be discharged and told you to make sure he’s very careful with his arm, slow and controlled movements only, nothing abrupt. 

And, if there’s one word to describe Daniel during sex, it would probably be abrupt. 

He can’t keep his hands off of you when he’s uninjured. From your first time with Daniel, he showed and proved just how much your pleasure is important to him—he made sure that you understood that he lives and breathes to make you satisfied. But, you also know that he’d ignore his pain if it meant he was making you feel good; and, that’s not something you can risk, not with an injury that could affect his career if it doesn’t heal properly. 

You’ve reiterated that to him multiple times when Daniel tries to deepen kisses, hoping you’ll forget about your stupid sex ban and let him make you feel good. He’s not used to going this long without making sure you’re sexually satisfied. You don’t even allow him to guide you through masturbation, because you know you won’t be satisfied with it even if you get off—it’ll only lead to you falling into his lap begging for more. 

On the eighth day, you’re sitting in Daniel’s lap on the couch, rubbing ointment into the bruises left by the seatbelts of the car. You thought he was focused on watching the entire Dutch Grand Prix he missed out on, not thinking much of how he’s toying with the length of your braids with his uninjured hand. 

You think nothing of the soft sighs, moans, and groans he’s letting out of his mouth as you lightly massage him. All of these noises are common reactions to a sensation that feels good. It sucks that they happen to sound very similar to the moans Daniel makes when he initially fucks into you. You’re just a girl with needs that Daniel never fails to take care of; you’re not used to this, for the same reason Daniel can’t understand why you won’t let him get you off. 

Then, Daniel gasps out a soft ‘fuck’ that has no reason to be sounding that lustful and you start to squirm in his lap. You mindlessly continue to massage him, not exactly proud of the way you continue to strain your ears to hear his noises—and on one particular shift of your hips, you brush across his hard-on that wasn’t there a few minutes ago, and automatically fly off his lap.

In the frantic movement, Daniel tried to use both of his hands to keep you in his lap, irritating his broken hand. You flutter around him worriedly, your words a mix of chastising and displeasure. You don’t hesitate to say that this is exactly why the sex ban is in place (Daniel pleaded that it was a fluke, but you’re not eager to put that to the test).

Three days pass before Daniel deems you relaxed enough to have another attempt at seducing you into an orgasm or two. He approached you in the evening after you had watched him like a hawk as he took his pain medication. He wants you to shave his beard. It’s grown out some since he hasn’t shaved in a week or so. You’re not a professional beard shaver or anything, but you can imagine it’s difficult to shave your face with one hand. And of course, you’d jump at any opportunity to help out your boyfriend and allow him to relax and look pretty. After an unnecessarily long tutorial, Daniel pretends to have 100% faith in your skills and lets you take the first swipe across his cheek. You painstakingly use slow movements and light pressure, not forgetting to pull his skin tight with your other hand and clean the razor off with every stroke. You feel him tense underneath you as you ready to attempt shaving along his jawline. 

Pulling back at the last second, you make to smack his shoulder before hesitating and pinching him instead (it’s his left arm, you don’t want to jostle his cast resting on the bathroom vanity), ignoring his yelp you nag him, “Well, don’t act like I’m about to gouge your throat out or anything! I can feel you freeze up underneath me—it’s not like I want to cut you. I already have to stare at your ugly face every day, I don’t want to make it worse.”

Daniel pretends to be offended at your attack and the two of you bicker back and forth before settling down. The fake roast session calmed Daniel enough that when you brought the razor to his jaw, he remained relaxed. 

You smoothly shave the small area of skin and turn to clean the razor when Daniel speaks softly, “You’re so good,” a slight pause follows, “at this.” 

The praise tingles down your spine and you think nothing of it. Except, it continues. With nearly every swipe along his jaw, he continues to murmur praise with lidded eyes and an alluring tone. Whispers along the lines of ‘good girl,’ ‘just like that,’ ‘you’re so sweet to me,’ and paired with his stare dancing across your face, you dread the moment you finish shaving him. As your razor ventures down his throat, the air grows thick with intimacy. It’s the result of your boyfriend trusting you to repeatedly brush a blade along his throat and your unfortunate kink for praise and acts of service. With the last brush of the razor, you gently set it down on the vanity, exchanging it for cloth you wet with hot water. Ringing it out thoroughly, you gently begin to wipe Daniel’s face avoiding eye contact. When you swipe around his lips, you get distracted by their flushed color, a result of when Daniel bit his lip to make the skin underneath taut for you to shave. His tongue slips out to wet them and you can’t help but smash your lips to his.

It feels euphoric. You’re kissing him frantically, moaning into his mouth without inhibition, and you can feel him laugh as he struggles to match your desperate pace. His hand squeezes at your waist, anchoring you yet furthering your desperation at the strong grip as you try to climb him like a tree, tugging at his hair, shirt, pants, anything you can reach. At this point, Daniel would’ve had a hand in your hair, tugging at your scalp sharply a couple of times to rein you in and move you to his rhythm. You’re a little lost at the missing sensation and you pull away to pout at Daniel like you always do when he spends too much time teasing you.

It takes one look at his blown pupils, smug smile, and heaving chest before it jogs your memory. You step backward quickly to put space between you guys, raising a hand when you see him open his mouth, knowing he’s only going to convince you to get naked for him.

“I’m going to bed,” you state with a pointed finger, “You, are going to get in the shower, with cold water, and think about what you did wrong. And! You will not wake me up for sex.”

Daniel’s face falls, and you can tell he expected you to break, “Wait—you don’t let me shower by myself, what if I fall?”

You turn and leave the room, “It would be divine intervention. Karma, for trying to get me to break my rule.”

Daniel doesn’t wake you when he slips into bed, but you lose the benefit of going to sleep early when you jolt awake before sunrise. Your mouth is dry and your panties are embarrassingly wet. You can’t recall a single detail of your dream. Still, your legs are trembling at whatever scenario your brain decided to torment you with. 

Fuck it. Or fuck him, literally.

That makes sense. You’re going to ride Daniel, it’s the perfect position to make sure he doesn’t move his arm. You work him up beforehand so hopefully he won’t last as long; Daniel has unparalleled stamina usually, but with you constantly denying him for a while…he may wind up quicker. As soon as he cums, you’ll fake yours as well—because he’s only pleased if you're satisfied, otherwise he’ll attempt a round two. It’s that easy, right? You turn on your side and stare at Daniel, his face relaxed as he sleeps. Your synapses start firing as the plan comes to life. The two of you have discussed somnophilia, more on you as the receiving party. Daniel, of course, offered himself to you on a silver platter—any taste of you using him to get off? That’s always going to be a yes from him. So, yes. It is that easy.

You pull the duvet down to the edge of the bed and quietly shift to hover over Daniel’s thighs, never more thankful that he decided to wear only briefs to bed. And that he’s already half-hard; you’re extremely happy that the two of you don’t have a hand on how creative your dreams can get. He doesn’t shift when you pull his cock from underneath his briefs, carefully dragging them

down just enough to not be a bother. He stays under as you get him hard, it only takes a few strokes and some teasing along a vein on the underside. You rise slightly, sucking on two of your fingers before bringing them to rest along your entrance. It’s an annoying experience, you can’t remember the last time you had to stretch yourself out—Daniel’s spoiled you. The feeling of your fingers inside of you is underwhelming, the slight tinge of pleasure would be multiplied if it were him instead but; this is not for you. You are simply performing tonight.

You slide your fingers out and decide on getting Daniel as close to the edge as you can before he wakes up. You lean down to mouth at the head of his cock, knowing it’s incredibly sensitive and the sensation pushes him to the edge quicker than anything else. It can’t be more than a couple of strained minutes—your eyes and ears peeled to make sure you don’t miss any signs of Daniel starting to awaken. Thankfully, you feel him start to pulse along your tongue, a sure sign that he’s getting there.

You pull off, taking a second to breathe as you rest your head on his hip. With one last reassuring exhale, you move to straddle him, one hand underneath you to guide his length to your pussy. The second his head pops into you, you let out a pitiful whimper, eyelids fluttering shut, and your legs begin trembling again. Another realization hits you as you struggle to silently take all of Daniel.

You can’t recall a single time Daniel had forced you to be quiet. He’s always trying to make you scream his name. If he needs to hide your noises he muffles them with a hand over your mouth or his fingers in your mouth. Naturally, you use his tricks and do the same. With two of your fingers shoved in your mouth, you quiet your sounds as your ass meets your (somehow still) sleeping boyfriend's thighs. It feels like he’s in your throat; you know that no matter how long it takes you to make him cum, you’re going to be aching tomorrow. You begin to grind against him, whimpering softened around your digits. You slowly increase your rhythm up to a bounce, doing your best to squeeze around him—Daniel has mentioned before that he can’t resist cumming when you feel like you're trying to keep him inside of you and never let him pull out.

It must work because suddenly Daniel’s hips rock up into yours, and he’s awake with a singular breathy moan of, “Yes—oh, I thought I was still dreaming.”

You laugh airily, letting your spit-slicken fingers fall from your mouth and drop to press against your clit (you’re not actually, you’ve missed it by a mile but it’s all about convincing Daniel), avoiding meeting his eyes knowing Danny will assume it’s under the pretense of you being shy (once again, yes you are incredibly mortified, but you know he’ll be able to tell that you're faking this in a split second).

“H-how long,” Daniel moans out crackly, his abdomen contracting underneath you, “Have you been at this? ‘Gonna make me cum already.”

You nod frantically, moaning out loudly as if you’re on the edge as well. Daniel gets his feet planted and thrusts up into you forcefully enough that your moans turn real. Throwing your head back so he doesn’t see your face in case it gives you away, you continue to moan out exaggeratedly as you feel him cum inside you, pitching your voice and shuddering as if you released as well.

“What the fuck was that?” Daniel commands quietly.

You slump forward, sliding off his softening length and nuzzling into his neck to pretend like you didn’t hear him and to hide. He lets you avoid answering the first time he asks. He takes his good hand and fists his hand in the braids along the nape of your neck and tightens his grasp enough to get you to gasp.

“Mhm. When you cum, baby,” he starts softly, “That’s the quietest you ever get during sex. Usually, it’s because you choke on your breath, even though I remind you to breathe through it every time. You do this cute little thing where you try to slam your thighs shut around me, it doesn’t matter if it’s my hand, my head, or my hips, you try to crush me. It’s also one of the only times during sex when you make eye contact with me on your own, well depending on what position I have you in. I won’t repeat myself.”

You mumble into his chest fitfully before sitting up, “I didn’t want you to hurt your hand, okay? That’s all. During sex, you can never stop touching me and I was afraid that somehow you’d treat your hand a little too roughly and then, boom, you’ll never drive a Formula One car again—”

“Calm down, babe,” Daniel soothes you, bringing his right hand to massage your hip, “I think you’ve overdramatized my injury in your head a little bit. Firstly, I don’t even care if my hand suddenly fell off—genuinely, never deprive me of making you feel good. That hurts me more than my hand aches. Secondly, this entire time I didn’t even move my left hand off the bed. See?”

You look down at his hand and nod once. This entire time you enforced a needless sex ban when you could’ve been riding a high every day.

“Now, if you could be kind enough to let me restore my ego,” Daniel taps you on the ass so you rise to kneel over him, “C’mere and sit on my face.”

You hesitate, the thought of pretending to deny him crosses your mind, but you already shorted yourself of one orgasm tonight. That’s how you find yourself riding Daniel’s face, embarrassingly almost losing control of your legs at the first knock of his nose against your clit. Your boyfriend has mastered the skill of eating pussy and that’s why you feel no shame in just how quickly a few targeted thrusts of his tongue and the pressure of his nose have you shattering apart above him. And as Daniel said, you do choke on your breath as you climax, your legs tighten around his head as well—and you don’t have the strength to be humiliated at how he knows your body better than yourself.

Daniel guides you off his mouth and lays you down by his side only using the uninjured arm, and the care and strength behind that movement sends you shaking again through the aftershock and come down. 

Daniel coaxes you onto your back and nudges your legs open to slide in between them. He trails the fingers of his right hand across your fluttering folds, before spreading you open with two fingers, enamored at the way your relaxed entrance winks at him. 

“You can give me one or two more right? I think you need a reminder of how much I thrive off of making you feel good, pretty girl. Let’s see how many more I can get out of you before the sunrise.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorrari @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25 @landoslutmeout @love-simon

© httpsserene 2023

[berzahoes]

manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

[adverbally]

I Put a Spell on You

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Halloween” | wc: 1,213 | rated: M | cw: minor discussion of the consent and self-determination issues arising from love spells (which do not actually apply to what happens) | tags: attempted magic, halloween costumes, eddie’s self esteem issues, this turned out more humorous (or even cracky) than intended but i figure i was due for a light angst day, happy ending | title from the song by “Screamin’ Jay” Hawkins (though I personally love the version by Creedence Clearwater Revival)

———

Under any other circumstance, Eddie would be thrilled to have an amorous Steve Harrington in his arms, pressing him up against the side of his van and kissing him senseless. Honestly, there is still a part of him that thrills at the contact, but a far greater part of him is too guilty to enjoy the warmth of Steve’s mouth on his.

“Steve, wait,” he gasps between kisses, planting a hand on Steve’s chest to keep him at arm’s length.

Steve frowns at him. It’s a ridiculous look contrasted with the werewolf costume he had put together for that night’s Halloween party, complete with hairy paw gloves and a repurposed fake beard glued onto the sides of his face to simulate overgrown sideburns. “Too much?” he asks with genuine concern.

It takes everything in Eddie not to flinch away from the scratchy fur when Steve raises a hand to cup his cheek. “No, I just– are you sure about this?” He’s not sure what he means by this, exactly, but it definitely includes making out with another guy in full view of whoever is still wandering around Loch Nora at two in the morning. Especially when it’s the weekend before Halloween and they’re dressed as a vampire and a werewolf.

“I really like you and if you feel the same, I wanna see what this can be,” Steve says firmly. “Especially if you let me keep kissing you.” His lips are stained red, courtesy of the fake blood he picked up from Eddie’s mouth, and his cheeks are flushed from alcohol and the exertion of the past few minutes. He’s almost beautiful enough to distract Eddie from his ethical dilemma, but not quite.

“I appreciate that, but did you feel that way before, like, Thursday evening?”

Steve lets go of his face. “That’s a suspiciously specific question,” he observes through narrowed eyes.

“What do you mean?” Eddie keeps his eyes wide, trying to look innocent.

“Eddie.”

It doesn’t take much to make him crack, just a hint of disappointment on Steve’s wolfy face. “I, um.” He scrunches his face up as he searches for the words. “I might have cast a love spell on you?”

Steve, to his credit, doesn’t immediately burst out laughing. Another worrying bit of evidence pointing to the spell’s success, maybe, but he mostly looks incredibly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I found this book at the library,” Eddie confesses miserably. “About magic. And of course I didn’t think it would actually work, but I had to try it, you know? For science or whatever. So I cast a love spell on you, and now you’re here,” Eddie waves a hand at him, “and you’re suddenly into me.”

Steve’s frown gets even deeper, if possible. “You know how insane that sounds, right?”

Eddie really regrets slicking his hair back with gel to complete his fancy vampire look. The urge to fidget with it is especially strong right now. “Yeah, obviously it doesn’t make sense. It’s magic.”

“It’s not real!” Steve exclaims, throwing his paws in the air in exasperation.

“Steve, look at the evidence here. It’s Friday night– or Saturday morning, I guess– and it’s the first time we’ve seen each other since I did the spell on Thursday. You expect me to believe that you genuinely want to be my boyfriend and the timing of this was a coincidence? I mean, the odds are practically zero!”

Steve is blinking at him like he’s trying to understand a foreign language, but his smile is fond when he says, “I didn’t do great in Stats, but I’m pretty sure the fact that you just described exactly what happened makes the odds, like, a hundred percent.”

That’s not how probability works but Eddie isn’t sure he can explain why while he’s tipsy and distraught, so he ignores that statement. “And it doesn’t matter if you say you already wanted to be my boyfriend. The whole point of a love spell is that it makes you think you’re in love. Maybe that’s a retroactive effect! Maybe if it worked, you would just think that you’ve had a crush on me this whole time!” Eddie is sort of shouting by the end. Good thing Steve’s neighbors are so far away.

“Eddie.” Oh god, Steve’s eyes are sad now. He’s probably about to explain how this insane violation of his free will makes Eddie a shit person (which, yeah, he’s aware) or argue that he stole Steve’s chance to fall in love for real (also very hard to refute).

“I’m sorry, okay, it was supposed to just… do nothing. That’s why I knew I could test the book by doing this. Because if you showed any interest in me, which would never happen in a million years without magical intervention, it would be proof that the spell worked.” Eddie spreads out his arms as if to say ta-da! “And now here we are. I totally understand if the whole mind control aspect of this, like, ruins our friendship, ‘cause I’m sure that would be a dealbreaker for me–”

Steve covers Eddie’s mouth with one of his giant furry gloves. “Eddie. I’m going to ask you something. It might be hard for you to answer, but I want you to try, okay?” He waits for Eddie to nod before removing his hand. He looks Eddie dead in the eye and calmly poses his question. “Why do you think it would be impossible for me to like you of my own free will?”

“I mean, I guess it’s technically possible? Just super unlikely and even demonstrably false.”

Steve rests his paws on his hips. “I think you know what I mean.”

“Steve, stop trying to spin this into being okay! I know I fucked up but I’ll undo it as soon as I can. I owe you a huge apology.”

“No,” Steve shakes his head, which makes his lupine sideburns rustle. “No, that’s actually the complete opposite of what I’m trying to tell you here. I like you. Really! You’re smart and fun, and I love how creative you are and how you want to help people and even how fucking self-sacrificing you are.” He puts his hands over the exaggerated shoulders of Eddie’s vampire cape. “That’s all because of you, not some stupid spell.”

“Oh.” All Eddie can do is stand there, hoping the tears in his eyes don’t spill over and smear his makeup. “Really?”

Steve laughs. “I’ve only been trying to ask you out since August!”

That makes Eddie snort, mostly at his own obliviousness. “Give me a break! I had just relearned how to walk in August, I was a little busy.”

“If you need something to do that doesn’t involve fake magic library books, I might be able to help,” Steve jokes with a crooked grin. “That is, if it’s okay to kiss you again?”

“Blanket permission, as long as you forget this ever happened.” Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and pulls him close again.

“Mm, I don’t think so.” Steve tilts his head to kiss Eddie. It’s not as frantic as it was earlier, now that Eddie isn’t panicking about the moral implications of intimate activity under the influence of a love spell.

Somehow it’s even better.

[r4spb3rr13s]

juicy couture + shinsou please !! love your blog 🎀💖

real or cap??

♱ shinsou x reader, fake dating stylez 🫢

♱ 1000 follower special ♱

♱ 2.2K words!

Hitoshi had so many other things he could be doing - studying for a class he actually took, for example. Instead, he sat stuffing his face with chips as you ranted at him about something called 'The Doppler Effect'.

This poor psych major's head was about to explode.

You faltered at the bewilderment on your friend's face and slumped down next to him with a groan. "I'm so fucked, 'toshi."

"You're notttt," He yawned. Hitoshi lifted his arms up to stretch, and you looked away quickly - ever since Mina pointed his happy trail you crumbled a little inside.

It was extremely distracting.

You cleared your throat, and pushed yourself up, snatching the bowl away from him.

"Hey!"

"'Scuse me?" You huff, "I need to eat too so I'm not drunk after two shots tonight."

Hitoshi froze. There was a pause. His voice came out meek, like a scared mouse.

"What."

You snorted at his blank face. His eyebags weren't as bad today, but they still cast a shadow on his pale face. The panic on his face made him look like a horror movie character at that moment.

"We're going out tonight? With Mina and Denki?"

Hitoshi's eyes widened, and let out a small 'fuck' under his breath. He desperately avoided your gaze, but still he shook his head in protest.

"Nope."

"Fuck you mean 'nope'?" You scoffed. It was a struggle getting Shinsou to come out with you all, but you knew he did actually enjoy everyone's company. His intense lack of energy balanced the other three of you surprisingly well.

He slumped back into the cushions and smothered himself in one of the pillows, groaning into it like a teenage girl. You chuckled at the adult baby and poked his shoulder. "You're coming. You even agreed on the group chat!"

"BUT I DON'T WANT TO-"

"TOO BAD."

:::

As Hitoshi stood at the entrance of 'The Three Boars' he'd never wanted to turn into a turtle and sink into his shell more.

You, on the other hand, stood beside him with a bright grin. And a very small outfit, he'd noted when he picked you up. He'd spent the Uber over gulping every time your skirt rode up and good god when you walked in front of him-

"Ready?"

He broke out of trance and looked at you. A frown crept on his face, but no real ill intent sat behind it because the smile on yours stopped it. He nodded.

Your hand brushed against his, and for some reason the hairs on the back of his neck stood attention. Your fingers reached out hesitantly, like you wanted to curl them into his palm and tug him along. But you didn’t.

Instead, you strode forward in front him and he found himself staring up, because he know if he didn’t, his eyes would find themselves glued to the backs of your thighs.

It was loud in the bar with music thrumming through the floor and people hollering at each other at the tops of their lungs. Two people managed to stand out in the crowd though - those two obviously being your two friends.

Mina and Denki are scream-laughing at strangers dancing, clearly already off their tits. Mina catches your eye and screams - the whole bar jumps at the shrill sound, but she pays no mind and hurtles towards you.

You laugh and hug her. "Y/n, I have a secret, c'mere," she mumbles. You stifle a laugh and lend her your ear. She cups her hand around your ear and... makes a fart noise.

Denki comes up behind up the two of you and cackles at the both of you. Shinsou can't help but let out a little snort at the sight. Seeing you smile would always make him the smile, anyways.

"Should we get drinks?" You ask. It's pointed at Shinsou, but Mina screeches 'yes' and drags you to the bar. You send a ‘sorry’ look at Hitoshi, and he just shrugs with a smile. You order your drinks and sit with Mina at the stools.

She's patting her hair back into place, eyes searching for the yellow-haired boy in the crowd. God knows where he's taken poor Shinsou.

You can see the look on her face - it's more obvious now she's drunk. Furrowed brows, jutted out lip and she's curled into herself a little bit more. "You still haven't told him?" You pry.

She jumps at your question and moves a pink curl from her eye. "No..."

"He's crazy about you," You sigh. The bartender puts your drinks down, you thank him, and take a sip- fuck, it's strong.

She raises a brow and rests her clumsy head against her hand. "Nahhhhh, he isn't."

"Yes, he is!"

"No, he isn't!"

"Mina-"

"Plus, can you even talk?"

That shuts you up, and your face twists in confusion. You let out a breathless laugh, "You're so drunk, dude-"

"Okayyy?" She says, an evil grin lighting up her dark eyes. "Hitoshi still has a big, fat crush on youuuuu," she sings. Her finger comes up and boops your nose, much to your dismay.

You waft her finger away and take a glance at the boy across the room. Both boys are sat down, Denki on some rant that includes waving his arms around like a car dealership blow-up. Your eyes drift to the purple haired boy.

He's sat back in his chair, his jacket off and arms straining at the short sleeves of his cotton shirt, and he does his signature stretch - the one that you 'hate' so much. Your eyes betray you, and your glancing down at the dark strip of hair leading to his belt-

"Jesus, just ask him out already. The whole room can feel you eye-fucking him, Y/n," Mina slurs. You snap your attention back to her with hot cheeks and shove her lightly. She's stuck between giggling at you and looking at something behind you.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump out of your skin. You let out a small shout, and spin around. A tall guy looms over with a leering smile - it makes your skin crawl - and eyes drawing everywhere but your face.

He’s got dark, greasy hair and black eyes that look like pits into whatever ‘soul’ he has. There’s an air around him filled with arrogance, douchery, and frankly, danger.

"You single?" He drawls. He's uncomfortably close - nearly caging you in against the bar, with one hand on the counter behind you. The other hand is busy holding an empty pint of beer that you're thinking hasn't been his first.

Mina's watching the both of you with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You shake your head and laugh with anxiety. "I'm not interested, sorry," You mutter and slide off the stool.

Mina joins you and you're pushing through the crowd. She's in front of you, and you're nearly at the table, but there's a hand on your arm. It's holding tight.

A yelp leaves your lips but Mina's already through the crowd, probably at the table. You’re pulled back into the chest of the guy, and his face reeks of alcohol. A horrible grin spreads across yellow teeth and he flips his dark hair out of his face.

"I asked if you're single, so answer the question, sweetheart." He slurs, nose almost touching yours.

You tried to wrench your arm out of his grip, panic rising. The thrumming in your ears is getting louder, but your throat is so dry that nothing will come out. The few sips you had of your drink are making you foggy, but you know you need to move.

You managed to push some words out. "Listen, I just wanna sit with my friends-"

He presses himself against you, and your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your chest when he moves his mouth next to your ear. "Why can't we be friends?"

There’s a beat where you’re not really sure what happens, but something does.

You blink and you're free, a waft of air making you shiver for a second.

There's a back in front of you - a back you recognise immediately as Shinsou's, and his familiar smell of lavender and cedarwood fills your brain with the same feeling second-hand smoke from Denki’s blunts do.

The guy scoffs loudly and peers around Shinsou, gesturing at you with a pointed finger.

"She didn't fuckin' tell me she had a boyfriend! She was leadin' me on-"

Hitoshi let’s put a groan and puts his hands to his temples, “Shut the fuck up? Please?". He’s scowling, arms crossed, looming over Creep Mcgee. It's apparent he's a foot taller than the moron, the width of his shoulder making the two of them look like a comical before and after gym-plan ad.

If you hadn't been so shaken, you'd have laughed.

Instead, you found your hand subconsciously wrapping around Shinsou's bicep and glancing up at him. His gaze was steely and dark through narrowed eyes, and his tongue poked through his cheek.

The guy moved to say something again, but Shinsou shook his head. It was a warning, if anything.

Creep McGee just sighed and left, muttering things about you.

A few people had been watching, but they got bored and went back to their dancing and drinking. He looked down at you and his face softened, clenched jaw turning into a small smile on his lips.

"You okay?"

You nodded and tightened your grip on his arm. Your legs were shaking a bit, but you were alive so you couldn't complain.

He gave you a once-over and took your hand off his arm, holding it instead in his own. He looked at it for a second, and Mina's earlier words flashed in your mind.

"Hitoshi still has a big, fat crush on youuuuuu."

The memory made your face go hot again. Shinsou huffed, and started leading you to the door.

"No- I don't want to ruin it, I wanna stay for a bit-"

Hitoshi let out a chuckle in front of you and looked back with a smile you thought you'd swoon over. "We're jus' gettin' you some air, kay?"

His voice was soft and warm and felt like a million hugs and lit you on fire. You nodded obediently and let him lead you outside to sit on the curb a few steps from the door.

You sat clumsily, tugging your skirt down while Shinsou shook his head at you.

"Why do you even wear that stuff? It's always stressful for you," He asked as you finally sat next to him.

"'Cus it's cute? What, do I look bad?" You asked with a cheeky smile, nudging him.

He went quiet for a minute and looked out into the street, eyes following the passing cars. "Nah. You look beautiful." He admitted quietly.

Your heart jumps into your throat at his words. Your hair stands on end, and you feel like you've been electrocuted by Denki with the tingles and shivers flying across your skin.

You turn into Mina for a minute, and open-an-close your mouth like a fish. "...Thanks, boyfriend."

Hitoshi snorts and pushes your shoulder with a teasing smile. "Yeah, you wish, Y/n."

"Yeah, I do," you reply without a beat. You don't even realise what you've said before Shinsou turns to you with wide eyes.

Your hands fly up to smack your mouth in panic. What the fuck? Why would you say that! Y/n, for fuck's sake-

But a grin breaks out on his face, lighting up his violet eyes and they shine in the lamppost's light above him. Fuck, he looks like an angel with the white light halo-ing him, outlining his silhouette like a movie screenshot.

"Yeah?" He asks, and his voice has lowered a bit. His teasing tone is gone, and there's something different, you've never heard before - it's electrifying.

Hitoshi's inched forwards, and his eyes are flitting from your eyes to your bitten lips, making your body shake in anticipation. You know you're doing the same, watching his gaze on you darken and his lips form a shit-eating smirk he'll use to annoy you later.

But you don't give a fuck, because you nod.

He moves fluidly, hand snaking up to cup your neck, half in your hair, and rush you towards his lips. A muttered 'fuck' leaves his mouth before he kisses you, and it's everything you've ever imagined.

He tastes like tobacco - a habit he pretends he doesn't indulge in - and minty gum, making your head spin more than it already is. He's soft, moving with your mouth slowly and taking you in.

Your hand rests on his chest, and you can feel his heart hammer at an unhealthy rate. Air is rushing out of you, so you force yourself to separate from Hitoshi. It’s reluctant, and you wish you could spend all your time against the soft pillows that are his lips, but unfortunately you require oxygen to survive. A cruel reality.

You're both panting into the cold air, staring at each other. A little giggle escapes you, and Hitoshi laughs, and then you both end up in a fit of laughter with your hands still cradling the other.

"Boyfriend?" Hitoshi asks contemplatively, pretending to think it over. You snort and hit him on the chest.

"Take me out on a date, first, pushy."

He grins and pecks your nose, hand still cradling the back of your neck. "I guess I'll have to, then."

"Well, in that case... can you go get me another drink? I left mine on the bar-"

"Good God, Y/n."

taglist: @todoslutbyheart @aespie @itzlittlemissperfect @im-so-tired-sorry @mangalovesanime-blog @livingmydreamlife5555

[pftones3482]

I want to be excited for the live action Little Mermaid so badly

The Little Mermaid is my favorite Disney movie. Anyone who knows me knows I'm obsessed with mermaids as a whole and will watch any media that has them. Hell, I own my own tails and monofins. But every time I see a gif or a video for the new Little Mermaid, I cringe

(btw, this is NOT because of the casting. If you're against this movie because Ariel is black, you're a racist piece of shit and this post isn't for you)

My issue lies with the CGI. It just looks so FAKE. We've seen through the course of movies and TV shows that use it that CGI does not age well, and that's because technology is constantly improving. What was impressive in 2005 is not impressive in 2023 (Just look at Aquamarine, another movie about mermaids). And the CGI on Ariel and her sisters already looks fake and the movie isn't even out yet!

Compare this image from the trailer

To this screenshot from H20: Just Add Water (a TV show that came out in 2006):

You can see the details of the scales in the second image

The first image is flat. Sure, it's colorful, but it's flat. It's fake. Halle herself is the most beautiful and alive part of the image, because everything else is fake

The difference?

H20 had costume designers, ones specifically trained in mermaid tail making, HAND CRAFT every tail on the show. All of the scales were hand laid, all the tails molded to fit the actors/actresses perfectly, painted by hand

Let's even look at someone with no affiliation to TV or movies:

This is Mermaid Linden, a very well known (in the mermaid community) professional mermaid. You can tell her tail is not as high quality as the ones made for H20 (though it's still a VERY expensive tail) - but it still looks like it's a part of her. You can still see the details. Because professional mermaid tails are also all handmade and molded to fit each person. Even if they don't lay every individual scale, good professional mermaid tail makers are very meticulous about what they do.

This is what happens when Disney refuses to pay practical effects artists. We could have had beautiful, handmade tails that would look real on screen for decades to come and could be reused for promotional purposes - instead, they're underpaying and overworking their non-unionized employees to make CGI tails that don't even look real now.

(to be clear, I'm not shitting on the artists. As I said, they're being underpaid and overworked. This is not their fault)

And before anyone comes and says "But swimming in those is difficult!" Absolutely it is. You should never swim in a professional level tail (or even just fabric tails) without practice and training. Which Disney could have given the cast if they were willing to PAY people (the cast of H20 [a TV SHOW] literally learned how to be mermaids on set. It's been done before)

Disney's "Live Action" needs to be rebranded as "CGI with some real people tossed in" because that's all any of these remakes have been, and it's exhausting when I look at what we could have had.

[shockercoco]

Unconventional Confessions

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, fingering/fingering in front of mirror, dirty talk, squirting, oh no he's hot!

Word count - 1759

a/n - It took me 30 minutes to choose a gif and I’m still not happy with it lol. Here's the winner of the poll so I hope you enjoy :)

“So, did you enjoy it?” Austin asks you over the commotion in the theater.

Austin had brought you as his date to the premiere of Dune, a new movie he had a part in. As soon as the credits began rolling, everyone in the audience stood up to applaud the performance of the cast members, including you. Although, your applause was targeted more towards Austin and his performance.

You walked into the movie not expecting to find your boyfriend’s character attractive, like you have in the past with his other roles. After all, he played a pale, bald psychotic sadist with black teeth – someone that most people would be disgusted by. 

Not you, though, because as soon as Feyd came on screen you were drawn in, not just because of how good he looked shirtless, but from his strange and deviant behavior. The way he dragged his tongue against his blade, how unsympathetic he was for human life, how he laughed and drooled in the face of danger all weirdly had an affect on you.

 You noticed this when you felt your insides turn, and when you glanced down at your lap you saw that you had unconsciously crossed your legs. You knew how much Austin takes his career seriously and how easily it was for him to immerse himself into his roles, but you never expected this from him.

“I loved it. The sound, the acting, the cinematography – it was all amazing,” you smile as you turn to look up at him. You’ve always had a love for film, and Austin knew this and loved that about you.

A smile forms on Austin’s face at your response as he leans down to hug you and to place a quick kiss on your lips.

The ride back to the hotel was long due to New York traffic, but Austin decided to take this time to pull up the partition and put you into his lap and kiss you. He always did this in the car after an event or party, and each time you would tell him no, given the fact it was dangerous to not have your seatbelt on, but you always end up caving in the end.

You decide to take a shower when you arrive back at the hotel, not only to get clean, but to calm your nerves. After you get out and begin your skin care, Austin enters the bathroom and wraps his arms around you from behind, placing his chin atop your head.

“I know I already asked you if you liked the movie, but what did you think of me?” he asks as he looks at you through the mirror. Austin would always overthink when it came to his acting and would come to you for reassurance.

“You were great, just like you always are,” you tell him as you continue on with your routine.

He groans and gives your hips a squeeze. “Come on, you gotta give me more than that.”

You smile at him through the mirror. “I really enjoyed your performance, given the fact you’ve never done anything like that. You were unrecognizable, and not just because of the makeup,” you laughed,” Your deduction really paid off.”

You watch as Austin beams at your response. “Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Anything else?” he asks you.

Yes, yes there is.

“Well, I may or may not have found Feyd attractive, even though he’s mentally unstable. Too bad we won’t see him in the next movie.” you fake sadness towards the end. You talk casually as if what you said was minor.

You watch as Austin lights up and lifts his head. He raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Is that right?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head, “it just sucks that you’re not him.”

And you guess that set him off because next thing you know he’s pulling you even closer into him as he places soft kisses on your neck. You laugh and playfully try to shove him off, but Austin just laughs into your ear and continues as one his hands begins to slowly travel south. When you feel his hand reach the waistband of your pajama shorts you freeze. You look at Austin through the mirror to see that his gaze is already on you, a sly smile showing on his face.

“If you couldn’t tell, I’m a little busy right now,” you joke.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. Just pretend I’m not even here,” he says without taking his eyes away from yours. You stare back at him for a second before starting the last step of your routine – brushing your teeth. Austin keeps his focus on your face.

Just as you were reaching for your toothbrush, his hand dips inside your shorts and stops when his fingers reach your clit over your underwear. You tightly grip the toothbrush in your hand when you feel his fingers start to lightly rub circles into you through the fabric. You can already feel yourself getting wet from the teasing, warmth pooling in your lower half. As you reach for the toothpaste, he adds more pressure to your clit, and you clench your teeth to keep the sounds in your throat from escaping.

Austin smirks to himself once he notices the tension in your jaw, which you feel as it forms on his lips that are still attached to your neck. When you reach for the toothpaste, he begins to glide his fingers up and down your slit through your underwear, feeling the damp fabric.

As you begin to squeeze the toothpaste on your toothbrush, you feel Austin’s hand quickly dip inside the waistband of your underwear and collect your arousal on his fingers before spreading it through your folds. This time you can’t stop the moan from escaping your lips as your mouth falls open.

“I said don’t stop,” he whispers into your ear and ends the sentence with a kiss behind your ear, causing a shiver to make its way through your body. You look at him in the mirror to see his eyes still on you, feeling another wave of heat run through your body from the eye contact.

You go to squeeze the toothpaste on your toothbrush only to feel Austin shove a finger into your opening. You have to brace yourself against the counter as you feel your walls welcome him in, but Austin keeps his finger still inside of you, waiting for you to continue. 

When you lift the toothbrush to your lips with an unsteady hand, he pushes a second finger into you. Another moan leaves your mouth as you feel yourself stretch around him, and once you feel his fingers move inside you, you immediately drop the toothbrush and toothbrush for it to land in the sink. There’s no way you can carry on now.

Austin laughs at your reaction and continues to thrust his fingers inside of you as he finally lifts his head away from the crease of your neck to fully watch your facial expressions. He gradually increases the speed of his fingers and tightly wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist when you begin to squirm against his front. You feel his hard length against your backside, turning you on even more, but your main focus is the fingers pushing in and out of you with persistence.

You place one hand back on the counter and use the other to cling onto the arm around your waist. You feel your head drop and your eyes squeeze shut as whines fall out of your mouth, but Austin isn’t a fan of this. He removes the arm from your waist and grips your chin, forcing you to look up.

“Keep your eyes open,” he says, and you whine at his words. 

“Austin-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Keep your eyes open.”

You pry your eyes open and look at the hand moving in your shorts. Austin gives your chin another squeeze and pushes it up for you to look at him through the mirror. He smirks at your present state, and if it wasn’t for him currently pleasing you, you would slap that smirk off his face. He knows you hate prolonged eye contact.

“You fall apart so easily, don’t you?” he asks, and you weren’t aware he wanted you to answer until he repeats, “don’t you?”

“Yes,” you breathe out.

His fingers arrive at that special spongy spot inside of you, making your body jerk and your jaw go slack. He continuously hits the area with precision as he curls his fingers into you. His arm finds its place around your waist again once you start to writhe against him. You squeal as he speeds his fingers up even more, causing wet squelches to fall out of your soaked cunt, the sound echoing in your ears.

You feel the pressure in your quickly building up, and you close your eyes again – it’s taking too much energy to continue holding them open. This time Austin lets you. One of your hands moves down towards his wrist, but he quickly grabs it and holds against you as his arm wraps around you once again. Your thighs squeeze together as the pressure becomes too much and you come closer and closer to your climax, but this doesn’t stop him.

Austin feels your walls tighten and flutter around his fingers, and he does everything to make you fall over the edge. You let out a silent cry as your orgasm makes its way through your limbs.

He continues to push his fingers in and out of you to prolong your pleasure, and you let out a cry as you feel a gush of liquid fall out of you. It soaks your underwear and shorts as it makes its way down your leg. Austin still doesn’t let up on his pace so you go to squeeze his wrist, and he begins to slow his movements.

When he finally stops, he pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to his mouth to suck the taste of you off. Despite your energy being drained, you still manage to roll your eyes at him.

“Come on, sweetheart, round two in the bedroom. You need to lay down, your legs must be tired from standing,” he smirks and gives you a wink as he backs away from you and heads out the bathroom.

You grab the tube of toothpaste from the sink and chuck it at his head, but you miss, making Austin laugh.

[stariikis]

what's your ETA?

synopsis ; in a crowded train headed towards your friend's art showcase, you and your boyfriend are caught in an awkward position.

pairing ; non-idol!nishimura riki x fem!reader genre ; fluff, established rs, literal forced proximity wc ; 1180 warnings ; kissing (a lil bit in public), lots of teasing, and mentions of height difference..

“I swear, if you make one more cup of coffee and insist you have to drink it before we go, I'll personally push you onto the train tracks.”

Nearly spitting out his beverage, Riki swallows abruptly and coughs. “Now, I would say I’m used to your violent tendencies, but that’s just gory. But I’d honestly like to see it.” His eyes shine with an unsettling excitement that has you blinking rapidly. 

“You won’t be alive to see it…” You tilt your head and feign confusion. In reality, this is both your way of flirty banter. Since Riki just loves to tease you, you believe it’s only fair that you should be allowed to tease back. However, your version of teasing is questionably rude at times, way worse than any fireball of quips Riki showers you with. 

“You wanna go or not?” Riki sighs, his mug making a clunking sound on the table when he puts it down. “I’m ready to just sit here and argue with you until night — I’m not the one desperate to see Sunoo’s art exhibition.” 

“No, I swear it’s not because I’m desperate to go. You’re the one who’s closer to him though?” You shake your head and frown in bewilderment. “Fake friend.” 

Riki whips around in his seat. “Pick me!”

”Bad boyfriend!” You erupt into laughter and lunge forward to ruffle his hair. 

Playing along, Riki gets up and pushes you gently away from him. But at the same time his fingers grab ahold of your wrist, holding you close, like he doesn’t really mean it. He’s casting the bait, eyes that look deeply and adoringly into yours glimmering with enthusiasm. 

“You’re taking it to heart. Don’t take it to heart,” he murmurs, and leans in to kiss you, voice dropping down to a low. “Pathological liar.” Before you have time to protest, he giggles, hugging you close as if daring you to spit out another one of your alleged, ‘lies’. 

When you both reach the station, its difficult to see through the sardine-packed crowd of people in front of you. “It… is so crowded,” you tiptoe to be able to whisper in Riki’s ear – and even that’s not enough, he has to lean down with a huff of amusement for you to reach. “Why is it so crowded today?” 

Shrugging his shoulders loosely, Riki slips his hand into yours, squeezing it tight. “You’re the one who wanted to go to this art show.” He mutters quietly. “Kim Sunoo’s, no less. You know we can just ask him to conduct a private show for us?” 

“Is supporting your friends a concept nonexistent to you?” You snap, feigning irritation but responding by rubbing your thumb over his. Your boyfriend pretends to be hurt by this, staggering backwards as much as he can in the crowd. His free hand clutching his chest, the playful atmosphere set by your banter fades when he looks at you. Wearing a gentle smile, he leads you into the train when the doors and gates slide open. 

He manages to secure you both a spot along the wall near the right-hand-side doors. You can tell by the guilt in his eyes that he wants to find you a seat too, but you’re probably going to get dirty looks from the elderlies if you do so. Luckily, he saves you the social torture and doesn’t force you to take a seat. 

The first few stops the train makes are still bearable. Riki is squashed a little too close for comfort at times, caging you in against the wall while you just stare ahead as if nothing’s happening. You ignore the tingles the situations send, all the way from your neurons down to your toes. However, when the crowd dissolves as they alight at their respective stations, you can breathe a sigh of relief. 

Like usual, Riki makes a snide remark about your morning breath (even though you’re quite certain your dental routine is competent), and returns to scroll on his phone. What disheartens you, though, is how genuinely uninterested he seems in Sunoo’s exhibit. And how bored he seems to be, despite being here with you. 

There’s a nonchalant faze across his face as he scrolls social media, leaning in close with a hand adjusting its grip on the grab bar next to you. You tilt your head, chest starting to ache. Does he really not care as much as you’d like to think he does? To not even feel an ounce of excitement in this moment? 

The train screeches to a halt as if agreeing with your intrusive thoughts. There’s still a long way to travel downtown to where the exhibit is held, and unfortunately for you, this is the most crowded station the train has stopped at by far. So many people pour into the carriage that it’s not even five seconds before Riki’s whole body is pressed up against yours. 

He drops the arm holding his phone down to his side. 

People are pushing you on both sides, and suddenly there’s a wave of gratefulness that you’re not stuck in the middle of the carriage. As if your current situation isn’t painful enough. Your boyfriend can’t meet your eyes, and it’s not surprising. With your noses mere inches apart (only because of the height difference), even you, usually assertive and confident, have to look into the distance. 

“Sorry…” Riki says in a hushed tone, moving his lips closer to your ear. His head has practically dropped down onto your shoulder, and you can feel yourself filled with vigorous tremors. He slips his phone into his back pocket, and the hand previously holding it snakes protectively around your waist. You blink up at him, expecting a warm look down, but all you’re met with is narrowed eyes carefully scanning the surroundings. 

His neck still dipped downwards, he hugs you close when the final few people slip into the train. Clearly feeling you shaking, he hums soothingly into your ear, “you’re safe”. “You have me.” “Don’t be too scared.” Anything else he says goes in one ear and goes out the other. 

Because. In such a situation, what would you expect your boyfriend to proceed to do? a), Accept fate and stay in position, b), shyly turn away from the deathly awkwardness, or c), giggle and tilt his head to pepper kisses along your neck? 

Riki chose C. 

He’s so gross, you think, but only when you’re stumbling out the train and running all the way to Sunoo’s exhibit to save yourself from remembering the situation more. Why did he ever do that? I should have shoved him away and called him a pervert and acted as if I didn’t know him. 

What a lie — when he was pressing a final kiss against your cheek your first thought wasn’t even remotely close to wanting to shove him away. Rather, you had pouted, arms wrapped around his neck, because he’s going to have to make up for being both indifferent towards you and making you so late. 

(It is never really his fault.)

thank you for reading! i'm so sorry for the lack of uploads recently, life has just gotten a little bit busier and i finally got a lil break so i decided to write this prompt i thought of a while back!

more of my works >

[hyunsvngs]

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 - hwang hyunjin x gn!afab reader

wc: 5.3k

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: casual sex w no strings attached, reader is afab but no gender-specific language/pronouns are used, background reader x minho, smut warnings under the cut.

synopsis: it was well established now that you were fucking your way around the frat. you hadn't intended to make hyunjin your next victim, but when you end up alone together, it seems like the perfect opportunity.

a/n: part four of our fratboy series, hot bitch summer!!! i really hope you all enjoy this bc i'm completely in love with our sweet, sensitive, artsy, pervy fratboy hyunjin <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: swearing, nude painting and photography, mutual masturbation, cumswapping, casual sex, a little bit of bickering, mentions of male x male sexual activity, very poetic descriptions of many types of genitals, hyunjin is a pervy little boy but still very lovely.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You didn't know if you'd ever seen the frat house this quiet. Even with the red solo cups littering the coffee table, hoodies and shirts strewn over furniture, clear remnants of a recent rager, the place was almost peaceful. That was probably because it was mostly empty, though. Minho and Felix were helping out at the dance studio they frequented, Chan and Changbin were at the gym. Jisung was napping, which contributed to most of the peace and quiet. Jeongin was away visiting family, and you had no idea where Seungmin was - that man remained a mystery.

Hyunjin, however, was lounging on the couch in the lounge, sketchbook in his arms. It appeared that he would be your target for tonight. You leaned on the back of the sofa, looking over the boy's shoulder. "What are you drawing?"

Hyunjin yelped, clutching his sketchpad to his chest. "Jesus, Y/N! You scared the life out of me. I didn’t even know you were here tonight."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absolute terror that had flashed in his eyes when he looked back at you. You really hadn't meant to ambush him - honestly - but it had been entertaining nonetheless. "Sorry, Hyunjin," you apologised, not sounding very sorry at all. You reached over his shoulder and tapped his book. "Can I see?" 

"Um. No." He clutched the notebook closer to his chest. “Not this one.”

You rested your forearms on the back of the couch, leaning next to him. "How come? Are you shy?" 

"I'm not shy." He was looking ahead, but you didn't need to see him. You could hear the eye-roll in his voice. 

"Show me then!" you insisted, prodding his shoulder gently.

"This one is private, okay?"

"Private?" You fake-gasped. "Hyunjin, are you drawing dirty things? Are you a porn artist?"

"What? No!" He squirmed at the accusation.

"You're drawing nasty things, aren't you Hyunjin! It's not hentai, is it? Tentacle porn?" In all honesty, you wouldn't have cared, or judged him at all. But it was funny to play with him.

“Obviously not! I’m not Jisung.”

You snorted at his quip. “Okay, well… are there any drawings I can see?”

He pondered for a moment. “I guess so. You really wanna see?”

“Of course.” You knew Hyunjin was studying fine art, and you were aware that he spent the majority of his time in the makeshift art studio he called a bedroom, but you hadn’t really seen much of his work.

When he led you up there, you immediately understood why he’d want to spend his hours here. It was a cosy respite from the chaos that so regularly consumed the rest of the house. Strings of fairy lights came alive at the touch of a button, casting a warm glow on the space. An easel sat in the corner of the room, and most surfaces were lightly cluttered with various art supplies; notebooks, paintbrushes, pencils, as well as a few completed works. There was a vase of what looked like lavender; you breathed in and the scent confirmed it, sweet and gentle. 

“Take a seat,” Hyunjin murmured, before rifling through a pile of books. He tossed one into your lap as you sat on his bed, although you were a bit more preoccupied with watching him move around the room. He did everything so elegantly, despite his extra-long limbs; it wasn’t hard to tell he was a dancer. He sifted through a box of records, his fingers flipping through them deftly, before setting up a pale blue record player. You turned your attention to the book in your lap.

It seemed to be full of off-handed sketches. They were absolutely gorgeous, but you could tell he’d done them absent-mindedly as he observed the world around him. There was one of Felix and Jisung, cuddling on the couch. A sight you’d seen many times before, you had no doubt it had turned to play-fighting before Hyunjin had even finished his drawing. You flipped the page. A sketch of Changbin curling a weight, his bicep bulging - if Hyunjin had followed the man to the gym just to observe and draw him, you truly understood. You couldn’t help but gasp, as you turned the page once more. You and Minho, standing in the kitchen together, his arms wrapped around you as you beamed. You remembered the moment. He’d been attempting to make lunch, but you’d been rather successful at distracting him.

“Hyunjin, these are so beautiful,” you told him honestly, your heart swelling at the charm with which he captured such everyday moments.

He thanked you, looking a little bashful.

You took a break from flipping through his drawings to survey him for a moment.. He was different when he was sober. Most of the time you'd spent with him, he was near-blackout drunk - utterly white-girl wasted. He was the life of the party, really. Loud, giggly, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Maybe he was just one of those people who took some time to warm up to someone, you considered. You didn't doubt this, but beyond that… 

He just seemed so gentle. So sensitive, so sweet.

"You're… not the typical fratboy, are you?" 

Hyunjin looked over at you from the other side of the room. His eyes were so round, so innocent-looking. "What do you mean?"

You paused, choosing your words carefully. "You're just so lovely, Hyunjin." He blushed, looking away from you and resuming what he was doing - lighting a candle? - but he didn't speak. "Some of the other boys… great guys, don't get me wrong. But they have such fuckboy energy. Not you, though, Hyunjin. You're so sweet."

"Hmm," he hummed, appearing to think on your words. "I guess so. But…" he trailed off.

"But?" you asked. "I don't believe there's a but. Not with you, Hwang Hyunjin." 

His voice was barely above a whisper, hardly louder than the scratching of his pencil. "I'm still a man, Y/N."

You blinked. "Well, I've noticed that." 

Hyunjin shifted uncomfortably. "I'm just saying… men are all the same. Even if some seem nicer."

You placed the book on his bed, your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out what the fuck he was trying to say. "What are you getting at, Hyunjin?" 

"Don't judge a book by its cover, okay? Let's leave it at that." 

You hummed. "I don't want to leave it at that. I feel like you're hiding something now, and I wanna know what it is." Hyunjin stayed quiet, although you saw his jaw tense, noticed his cheeks redden. "So, if I shouldn't judge a book by its cover… does that mean you're not the sweet, kind, artsy boy I thought you were?"

"Well, no. I am those things. I'm just… other things, too."

“Other things?” you asked. You watched him light another candle. The cogs in your brain turned a mile a minute, trying to read the situation. The fairy lights, the candles, the record turning quietly. It all felt so sensual. He wasn’t trying to set the mood, was he? In all fairness, the boys had been constantly joking about how you were fucking your way around the whole frat. And it wasn’t even really a joke. You decided to test the waters. “Hyunjin, do you mean… you’re a little dirty?”

He paused for a moment. “I suppose so.”

“You’re a horrible pervy man? Who brought me up to his room to have his way with me?”

Hyunjin jumped. “What? No! I brought you up here to hang out. And look at my drawings. I’m not trying to take advantage of you!” 

You partly believed him. You chuckled. “What if I like dirty pervy boys, though?”

“Fine,” Hyunjin mumbled. He picked up the book he had been drawing in downstairs, a plain black, very nondescript sketchpad. He brought it to you, dropping it in your lap before going to the chair by his easel, sitting down and looking away from you. You looked at him expectantly, but soon realised you weren’t going to get anything more from him. 

You shrugged and opened up the book.

Oh. He really was a dirty boy.

You'd never in your life seen such a varied array of vulvas. Drawings, paintings, doodles. Shaved, trimmed, hairy. Innies, outies. Small, button-like clits, more enlarged ones. He didn't seem to discriminate at all - the man was pussy-obsessed. You flipped through a few pages, admiring the pussies like a field of flowers. Hyunjin's non-vagina art was beautiful, but he'd clearly found his calling here. 

“So you are a porn artist?”

Hyunjin glared at you. “It’s not porn,” he said scornfully. “It’s art.”

"But, you must watch a ton of porn? For research?" The air quotes you put around research earned you a scathing gaze.

"I don't watch porn at all," Hyunjin stated with a roll of his eyes. "And ninety-nine percent of the time, when guys say that it's a lie. But I'm the one percent, promise. I mainly use erotic photography, for references. Or paint from memory."

"From memory? You must be some kinda pussy expert." 

"Well, you're a dick expert, from what I've heard," Hyunjin murmured, just a little too loud to be under his breath. 

You couldn't help but cackle. "God, you're a bitch." 

Hyunjin smirked, before reassuring you, "I'm not judging, by the way. By all means, keep going."

"Thank you for giving me your permission, Hyunjin."

"Not what I meant and you know it." 

You shrugged, and returned to flipping through the book. "I like this one," you mumbled. The model's legs were parted, dainty fingers spreading their labia. Stretch marks streaked across their inner thighs, pubic hair wild and untamed. These drawings, they were all so real. It made you wonder what you'd look like, through his eyes. How would he draw your lips, what would your clitoris look like sketched out by his hand? How would he look, as he painted your most intimate area? Would he study you closely? Would he lick his lips in concentration, would he peer at you as he tried to envision how you felt, tasted, smelled? Would he touch himself, later, thinking about what's between your legs?

You decided to cut to the chase. 

"Have you ever had a live model before?"

Hyunjin looked like he was about to combust. He looked at you, mouth agape, and you could tell he was trying to determine whether he'd heard you correctly. "I've… I've never had the opportunity." 

You smiled at him sweetly. You loved the way he made you feel as though you were bestowing a blessed opportunity upon him. You had blown his mind with the mere implication that you might let him see you naked. 

"Do you want a live model?"

He nodded, still looking absolutely bewildered that you'd even offer. You didn't know why he was so surprised - you didn't exactly have a representation as a prude. You had openly fucked three of his friends in the last week, and here he was, utterly mystified by the idea of simply looking at your pussy.

You laughed at him, gently. "C'mon then, artist. Get your easel."

"Right - yeah. Let me just - get everything set up." 

Hyunjin turned, and you saw how hurried his actions were as he rooted through drawers, gathering his supplies. You supposed you'd better get yourself ready, too.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he told you, raking through a box of pencils.

"I want to." God, you really did. The rumours were true; you were, in fact, looking to conquer the entire fraternity. 

Hyunjin picked up his easel from the corner of the room, and finally turned back to you. "Oh. You're… naked."

You looked up at him from the bed, where you perched on the edge with your legs crossed. "Well. You're painting my pussy." 

He looked absolutely lost. "I didn't expect to see your… I didn't know you'd take your shirt off." 

You chuckled. "What am I, Winnie the fucking Pooh? Anyways, I didn't think you'd be so surprised by nudity, given the fact you draw genitals as a hobby." 

Hyunjin merely nodded, before setting the canvas on the easel and spreading numerous pencils and what looked like oil pastels on a small table beside it.

"Hey, Hyunjin. Look at me for a second." He did, hesitantly. "Relax a little, okay? It's all fine." 

He nodded again. "I know." He didn't sound sure. He was clearly nervous, which was understandable. But you wondered what it was, exactly, about the situation that was stressing him. Was he overthinking whether this would lead to sex? He wanted it, you could tell. Surely he knew that you wanted it too? Maybe you'd need to make your intentions clearer.

You sat quietly as Hyunjin worked. He brought a small lamp over, positioning it beside the bed. You watched as he tied his hair into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, gathering a few strands that had escaped and tucking them behind his ears. He was so pretty, even when he wasn't all dolled up.

"Okay," Hyunjin breathed. "Ready when you are." 

"Where do you want me?" you asked, and yet again, he looked ready to explode.

"Anywhere's fine. As long as I can see it - you." He cleared his throat. "As long as you're comfortable. That's the most important thing."

You leaned back on your elbows, and slowly spread your legs. Hyunjin looked upon you, mesmerised. His eyes were sparkling. This was how a man would look at a work of art, Michelangelo's David perhaps. This was how a man would gaze out across Nepal, having reached Everest's peak. This was how a man would look upon a real, honest-to-god miracle, a biblically accurate angel come to deliver the news that he is the messiah. That was how Hwang Hyunjin looked at a pussy. God, he really was a perv.

After minutes of scrutiny, during which you'd never felt so fucking visible, he turned to the easel and began his sketch.

He spoke up again, after a few minutes of working. “I don’t mean to overstep, but…”

“You just spent at least three straight minutes staring directly into my vagina,” you stated. “Say whatever you wanna say.”

“What’s actually going on between you and Minho?”

You wished you knew how to answer that. “I guess it’s hard to explain. We haven’t really discussed anything properly.” You thought for a few moments. “I’m sleeping around, obviously, but at the end of each day, I go back to him. That’s all there is to it, really.” 

He peered over at you, curious. “So, it’s true then?”

You looked back at him. “What?”

“You’re sleeping your way around the frat?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“And you’re having fun?”

“Well, obviously. You’re all hot as fuck,” you admitted outright. 

Hyunjin nodded. “I get it. We’re a pretty fun group of guys to fuck. You haven’t fucked Seungmin yet, right?”

You blinked at him. “No. Not yet… to be honest, I don’t know if Seungmin’s even interested.”

Hyunjin waved a hand at you, dismissing your concerns. “Seungmin’s just like that, don’t worry. Anyways, look forward to it - that’ll be a fun one.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. That seemed like a strange thing for a man to say about his friend. Unless… “You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Hyunjin.”

“Duh,” Hyunjin said, as if it was obvious. “You said it yourself, we’re all hot as fuck. Most of us fuck around with each other, from time to time. It’d be a wasted opportunity if we didn’t, really.”

You took a moment to absorb this. You couldn’t believe neither Felix nor Jisung had ever mentioned this to you. Traitorous bastards. They’d been fucking around with their stupid hot friends this whole time, and hadn’t even invited you to watch, or join? They were sick in the head, both of them.

You went quiet, letting Hyunjin sketch. 

There were many beautiful things in this world. Sensual, erotic, carnally beautiful things. The curve of an erection, the tightly-wound curls at its base, heavy hanging balls which almost looked like a heart, when caught in the right position. But this? Hyunjin, leaning over his easel, chewing on his lip as he deliberated over the perfect way to capture you on page. This was something else. This was beauty redefined.

It occured to you that it was impossible to hide anything from him. This took wearing your heart on your sleeve to a new level. He was privy to every one of your desires; he'd see liquid arousal drip from your hole, he'd watch as your clit slowly swelled. And if he took a moment to look away from your pussy (although he was so completely entranced that you didn't know if he'd be capable of it) he may even notice your nipples hardening, your pupils blown out with desire. He'd see just how much you wanted, needed him.

Although, by the looks of it, he was starting to get rather needy himself. His sweatpants were tented, though he was clearly trying to hide it, forearm draped over his crotch. You watched intently, trying to gain as much intel as you could from your obscured view. It looked big - that was about all you could gather.

"Maybe you should just take those off," you chanced. 

Hyunjin looked at you, surprised.

"Your trousers. They look like they're getting a little uncomfortable. And maybe it'd be less weird if we were both naked anyways?" 

Hyunjin put his pencil down, giving you an accusatory look. "You just want to see me naked." 

You grinned brazenly. "Obviously."

Hyunjin laughed. "You are so shameless. Fine, have it your way." 

Satisfied, you watched as he pulled off his shirt. Vast planes of tanned skin revealed themselves to you, and you fought not to drool. He was far from the muscular beast Changbin was, but he was surprisingly toned. Curved biceps, lightly defined abs, sweet little pecs with the loveliest pink nipples. So many places to kiss, lick, suck. And that was before he'd even taken his trousers off. 

He stood, and as he tugged down his trousers, you could've sworn that his dick sprung back up with enough force to knock you out. You kind of wanted it to knock you out. It had a beautiful curve to it, not quite as thick as some that you'd seen recently - your mind flitted back to Changbin and his coke-can cock - but it was still undoubtedly long enough to ruin your pussy. And so fucking pretty. Your eyes scanned him slowly; the tip was the prettiest shade of pink, the long smooth shaft, the perfectly round, clean-shaven balls. He was perfect.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked, snapping you out of your staring. He didn't meet your gaze, but you could tell he wasn't too shy. He knew how beautiful he was, and he was used to people staring. 

You simply smirked at him. "Keep drawing, boy." 

You felt your clit begin to throb - you couldn’t help it. You burned under his gaze each time he looked back at you studiously. You knew what Hyunjin was like, with his art. Although you were both clearly desperate, he would continue drawing for hours, putting off the inevitable pleasure that you both craved, in pursuit of his next masterpiece before he let you both indulge. If you wanted his touch, you would have to intervene.

It took him a surprising amount of time to notice that you were stroking your clit. He was peering at the canvas, eyes narrowed. You could tell he took his craft seriously. It was admirable, but incredibly frustrating when you needed him to just turn his head ever so slightly.

"Oh."

There it was.

"What are you doing?" he asked, looking at you with a blank stare. He looked you in the eyes, rather than in the crotch. 

"Enjoying the view," you repeated, inserting a finger and spreading the wetness across your clit.

Hyunjin turned back to the canvas, apparently unperturbed, but you saw his dick twitch. You had him. You continued to circle your clit gently, letting out a soft moan as you did so.

Hyunjin snickered under his breath. "Screw you," he whispered, his hand wrapping around his length gently. Still, though, he didn't stop drawing. You watched as he stroked himself, torturously slow, head slowly disappearing into his fist before reappearing once more, all the while leaning over the easel.

And you'd thought Minho had been a master of restraint. Hyunjin was different, though. He wasn't hiding how much he needed this. He was perfectly happy to show you his rock hard, leaking cock. More than happy to jerk off languidly before you. But he was also making it clear that he wasn't going to rush into anything. He'd sit there and paint all night, if you let him.

Of course you wouldn't let him. 

"Oh, put the fucking pencil down." 

He met this with less resistance than you expected, and didn't hesitate, even for a moment. "Fine, but I really do want to finish this painting soon." He turned in his seat to face you, fucking into his fist as he watched you.

You shuddered under your own touch, fingers swiping over your bundle of nerves and sending jolts throughout your body. Your pleasure felt so heightened, as you watched the man before you. His hands were gorgeous, veins popping out as he stroked himself, long fingers wrapped around his member. His balls swung gracefully as he did so - how did he do everything with such elegance?

You thought about how he might feel inside you. His dick was so long, you knew he’d hit all the spots you needed him to. You knew he’d be princely and refined, even while fucking you. Even when he reaches his peak, when cum spurts out of that gorgeous pink tip, even if he lost his composure… he’d do it with poise.

You could hardly take it any more. “I need you, Hyunjin.”

“But I’m having so much fun watching,” he said, his voice hoarse - he sounded so fucked out already. 

You groaned. “You’ll have more fun fucking me, and you know it.”

Hyunjin grinned as he shook his head, but showed no resistance. “C’mere, baby,” he murmured, his long, slender fingers gripping you by the hips and dragging you towards the edge of the bed. “You ready for it?”

“More than ready, fuck, please.”

Hyunjin pushed the tip of his dick inside you, ever so slowly. You sighed happily; there was that feeling you craved. Centimetre by centimetre, he entered you deeper, gradually filling you up more and more. Eventually, when his hips ground into yours, when he was fully buried inside you, he let out the sweetest whine you’d ever heard. 

You couldn’t help but grin at the sound. “That feel good, pretty boy?” 

He nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he fixated on the feeling. The slow pace was agonising, the drag of his cock against your g-spot positively electric. He was fucking you as if it was an art form, as if his dick was a paintbrush and you were his canvas. And, fuck, he was a master of his craft.

“Legs up, baby. I need to get deeper.” His voice was low, strained. You did as he instructed, hooking your ankles over his shoulders. “God, that’s good.”

Had anyone ever fucked you this deeply before? You weren’t sure. Although, to be fair, you weren’t certain you knew your own name, at that point. All you could see were stars, and the angel of the man above you. He pulled himself all the way out, until the head of his dick was barely inside you, before plunging back inside, slowly, slowly. Each time, he pressed up against your cervix, and it hurt, but fuck, it felt so good. 

The room was hot, the air heavy. Sweat was dripping from Hyunjin’s forehead and landing on your skin. You were consumed with his scent, lavender and fresh cotton, You were covered in him, you felt his touch on every inch of your body, surrounded by soft moans from both yourself and him.

His hands explored your body as he fucked you. They tasted your thighs, squeezing gently. They caressed your hips, your waist, your hips, your chest. He handled you so gently, treating you with the utmost care. You could picture him so clearly, manoeuvring a delicate statue, arranging flowers in a vase, manipulating clay on a pottery wheel. He treated you with the exact same respect and admiration.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece, babe.” He thrusted hard, but still so slow. “So fucking beautiful.”

Hyunjin looked down to the site where your bodies joined. He was enthralled, eyes fixated on the sight of himself disappearing inside you. 

“Can I - shit -” His hands were shaking slightly, as he caressed your stomach. “Can I get out my camera? Just - fuck - just to take some reference photos. I need to paint you over and over, please-” His words trailed off into a whine.

You nodded. “Of course.” 

He pulled out, and you gasped, feeling a sudden emptiness. 

“Hurry,” you whimpered, as he gathered his equipment. He returned to you, kneeling before you and capturing the sight before him. You felt yourself clenching around nothing, desperate to have him inside you once more. He didn’t leave you waiting too long fortunately, sliding his dick back inside you, snapping more photos as he did so, still moving at that lazy, unhurried tempo. It drove you crazy. It felt amazing, of course. He was hitting all the right places, sending shivers down your spine and spreading butterflies throughout your tummy. But with a dick that perfect, you wanted him to thoroughly destroy you.

“Put your fucking camera away and fuck me properly,” you urged him.

Hyunjin smirked down at you. “Minho wasn’t lying. You really do get bratty and impatient.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking rail me before I throw you on this bed and take things into my own hands.”

Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head as he put his camera safely on his desk. “Relax, hon, I’ll fuck you.” He returned to the bed, looming over you with a teasing smile. “Are you sure you’re ready? You sure you can take it?”

“So help me god, Hwang Hyunjin, if you don’t-”

Hyunjin swiftly cut you off, thrusting deep inside you. Your words trailed off into a high-pitched squeak. Sassy as he was, he did as he was told; he fucked you hard, pounding into you powerfully. One of his hands gripped your thigh, holding it close to him, the other tweaking your nipple, sending yet more bliss running through your system. 

“You’re so fucking tight, hon,” Hyunjin rasped. So you’d heard.

“Keep fucking me, Hyunjin - fuck me harder!” You gazed upon his slender frame, tanned skin glistening with sweat. Maybe it was just because he was fucking you so well, but you could’ve sworn he was a real live angel, an almighty being. No person was this beautiful - no human being fucked this well.

“Fuck, I don’t know how long I can last like this,” Hyunjin grunted. He had a dark look in his eye.

“Cum then,” you encouraged him, “Give me your cum, baby.”

He shook his head. “Not until you cum first.” What a gentleman.

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing gentle circles into it, the perfect amount of pressure. It was pushing you over the edge, embarrassingly quickly. You felt your heart rate rise, your skin begin to tingle. Your climax was approaching - you felt it throughout your whole body.

“Hyunjin - Hyunjin!”

“That’s it, baby, let go,” he coaxed you. 

“I’m cumming!” With your announcement, it crashed over you like a wave. It exploded out from your core, white heat shooting through your entire body, coursing through your veins. You distantly heard yourself babbling Hyunjin’s name, although you couldn’t say you were quite lucid enough to be aware of it. All you knew were the fireworks spreading from your pussy, sparks erupting, setting you alight. 

“You’re clenching around me so tight,” Hyunjin whined. “Shit - Y/N!”

He pulled out, gripping his dick at its base, crying out as he painted your pussy, shooting his cum across your folds. You watched intently as the hot white spurts landed on your clit, your lips, dripping down towards your asshole. 

“There we go, baby,” you sighed, catching your breath. 

Hyunjin kneeled before you, also panting with exertion. He leaned in, locking his eyes with yours before licking a gentle stripe across your clit. He hummed. “Tastes good. Wanna taste?” You nodded, wide-eyed. He delved in, licking and sucking, and you moaned at the sensation on your oversensitive parts. He sucked on your clit, swiped his tongue through your folds, spread your cheeks and licked at your asshole. You couldn’t help but squeal.

He stood, leaning over you and gripping your cheeks gently, forcing your mouth open. You stuck out your tongue compliantly, waiting for the salty substance to reach you. He allowed it to dribble from his tongue slowly, landing in your mouth. 

Hyunjin pulled away. “Don’t swallow. Stick out your tongue, let me see.” You complied, and he picked up his camera once more, snapping more shots of you. Your face, this time, rather than your genitals. “Fucking gorgeous,” he whispered.

He put the camera down. “You can swallow now - I know you want to.” He sat on the bed beside you, lounging back, and you cuddled into his side. You watched as he clicked through the photos he’d taken; your dripping wet pussy, his dick teasing your entrance, burying itself inside you. Cum dripping down your clit, decorating you. Your face, eyes hazy, looking beyond fucked-out, tongue coated in the tangy mix of Hyunjin’s cum and spit. 

“We should blow this one up and hang it in the hall,” Hyunjin remarked. 

You snickered weakly, tired as you slumped against the man. “You boys would like that, huh? You’re all obsessed with me.”

“And for good reason. I see what the hype is about.” Hyunjin kissed your forehead softly. It was so tender - this was a no-strings-attached hook-up, nobody was under any illusions here. But it seemed that everything he did, every action he carried out towards anyone, was so filled with love.

“Hype? What do you guys say about me, when I’m not here?”

“That would be telling,” Hyunjin responded slyly. “Let’s just say, you’ve gotten some pretty good reviews.”

You yawned. “That doesn’t surprise me.” 

“Who’s next then, hm?” he asked.

“That would be telling,” you responded with a mocking tone. “I’m tired. You want me to stay here tonight, Hyune?”

“It’s okay, hon. Go crawl into Minho’s bed, he should be home soon.” 

You sat up, kissing Hyunjin’s pretty, plump lips. “Thank you for giving me a good time tonight, Hyunjin.”

He smiled. “Thank you for being my muse.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

When Minho returned home to find you curled up in his bed, you were barely awake, but still hanging on to your consciousness.

“Hey there, sleepy.”

“Hey, Minho.”

He paused, looking at you, eyes narrowed. “I know that smile. Who have you been with tonight, then?”

You gave him a smug grin. “Guess.”

“Not Jisung again?” He got into bed beside you, looking amused as he wrapped his arms around your frame. “You haven’t even showered, babe. I can smell Hyunjin on you.”

“You’re so good at this game,” you said, your voice slurred with tiredness.

Minho pulled you closer, kissing your neck from behind and making you sigh contentedly. He pulled you closer, and you felt his length press into you from behind - was he getting hard, thinking about you and his friend together? Was he imagining fucking you, with the scent of Hyunjin’s sweat still marking your skin?

He whispered in your ear, confirming your suspicions. “Are you too tired for another round?” 

You turned around in his arms, eyes twinkling. “Never.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

The Stunt ^**

This one is based off of the following request where Harry and Y/N are in a PR relationship and he realizes he likes her until it's all over.

A shout out to whoever created that AI pic, it was a repost from TikTok so I'm not sure who actually made it!

Warnings: PR relationship, mentions of PR drama from the past/present, heartbreak & failed relationships, verbal arguments, jealousy, a quick non-consensual kiss, alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex

WC: 19.6K

It seemed really stupid to you, a PR relationship with your co-star for a film? Sure, this was your debut into acting, but you had confidence in your ability to perform well and were certain that the film would do great, it was a lovely story! You didn’t need additional PR help to make the film successful. You loved the script, it was a nice, yet realistic friends-to-lovers story. It had range, happiness, sadness, comedy, intimacy…you wouldn’t have chosen a stupid script for your first attempt at the silver screen! So the fact that your agent had written this into the contract with whoever your co-star was going to be, it felt a little insulting to you. 

“It’s offensive! I don’t want to fake date anyone, Fred!” You whined into the phone, “Everyone’s going to see it coming from a mile off…what if they cast someone I hate? What’s gonna happen then?” You asked and he spoke calmly, trying to appease you.

“Think of it as more acting practice! You have to act like you’re into the person when in public.”

“No one is going to agree to that.”

“Sweetheart, everyone will agree to it. It’s a classic PR move! They’re just gonna be kicking themselves for not thinking of it first! It basically guarantees film success for these rom-com type of things.” He said and you sighed and nearly hung up out of frustration. You wished that he had at least asked your permission before including this in the contract.

A few weeks later you were called in by the production and directing team for a few chemistry tests with the two actors that they were split between. They didn’t want to tell you who they were looking at for casting as to prevent any bias on your part during the chemistry read. They wanted to see it for themselves who you vibed with the most. Fred had told you to stop trying to figure it out because both picks were fairly new to the acting world. And when the day came, you were sick to your stomach. You hardly ate anything since the night before because of it. 

When you were introduced to the first guy you did recognize him a bit but you couldn’t really place him. He shared that he had done a lot of supporting work and this would be his first time in a lead role if he got it. He was trying so hard though, trying to make it look like you guys were vibing well. Your interactions felt really inauthentic. The way he would knock his head back and laugh in an exaggerated manner whenever you said something slightly humorous, the way he would lean in closer to speak to you, and touch your arm or shoulder even when you crossed them over your body to indicate that you were uncomfortable. Then when you guys did a couple of test scenes, one of them being the lead up to one of the more intense dialogues between the characters, he came on really strong and theatrically and it was cringey; even you knew that he wasn’t it as they thanked him for his time and off he went.

“We’re gonna break for a few minutes. Meet back in here in 10!”  Someone announced and you took full advantage to go make yourself a tea while they reset the makeshift “set”. Fred knew better than to talk to you right now, you were still quite annoyed at him for putting you in the PR dating situation. So when you felt someone come up beside you, you didn’t say anything, he’d get the hint.

“Ummm, pardon?” You heard an unfamiliar voice and you did a double take over your shoulder when you realized that the person who was looming behind you patiently was Harry Styles, the glasses he had on threw you off a bit.

“Oh god, sorry! I’m taking up the whole counter aren’t I?” You apologized as you grabbed your phone and dropped it in your purse and grabbed that from the top of the counter to make space for him and he smiled at you.

“That’s alright.” He assured you, “I just wanted to introduce myself before we all have to head back in.” He explained and you nodded. You quickly set down your tea packet and extended your hand to his and you shook it firmly and briefly. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself.

“Y/N.” You smiled warmly.

“I know. Umm, I really liked your EP.” He said to you and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh wow, thank you so much! I like your glasses.” You said stupidly and he laughed as he glanced down at the ground between you and you mentally scolded yourself, “ Y-your albums too!” You added in, “I genuinely love all of your albums.” You giggled, trying to mask the star stuck feeling and embarrassment from your little blunder. “The last one, it was phenomenal! I put so many friends onto it.” You shared and he smiled timidly as he glanced away for a moment again before looking back at you.

“Thank you, that’s very generous of you.” He thanked you modestly, as if he hadn’t won an album of the year Grammy for it.

“It really was the least I could do. Great work.” You assured and he chuckled. You knew that one of his best friends was producing this film and you’d heard rumors that he might be writing on the soundtrack, so while you were shocked that he was here for this chemistry/screen test you didn’t think it too odd. Maybe it was going to help him get the vibes between you and whoever else they cast opposite you so that he could start working on the music. “So are you going to be writing some pieces for the soundtrack?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, I thought the script was so genuine and I don’t know, I’m quite partial to hyperrealistic stories like this. The ones that show the challenges as well as the good things.” He said and you nodded.

“Oh my god, same. I know that films should sometimes be an escape, a reprieve if you will, from reality and just be optimistic and romanticize the good but I really love it when it feels like I’m looking in the mirror, you know? Or when it helps me relate to others more. I just love the humanity so much.” You explained and he nodded along. 

“Yeah, definitely.” He agreed. “What do you love most about this story?”

“Just the hope of it all…” you sighed happily, “I mean, who isn’t a sucker for a good friends-to-lovers trope? That whole “it’s been you all along” moment has happened to so many of us, I think. Like it’s the ideal scenario for falling in love, no? When you discover that your love for someone is so much bigger than you thought it was. But what I loved most is the way Cara learns to love herself and knows when to choose herself. It’s shows so much strength and integrity to herself. But yeah, I mean the love story between the two characters is also really great, so…normal.” You hummed. 

“Yeah, it’s so pure, isn’t it? I love how it builds so realistically, like you know all the good bits but also all the bad bits of a person and still love them and they you just as you are.”

“Exactly.” You hummed and he smiled.

“And how’d the last guy do with that?” He asked you, “You can be honest, I won’t tell.” He assured you with a little grin.

“Honestly, a little too forced for my liking. Like fake laughing and inside jokes kind of thing, it was a bit cringey. And well, the acting was far too theatrical for film in my opinion. He very clearly comes from a theater background, it was like really over the top.” You explained to him and he hummed.

“Hmmm…Well, I hope I do better than that.” He said and you froze.

“Wait. You’re the other choice?” You asked him and he nodded, “Oh…”

“I didn’t come and say hi just for fun. It was strictly business.” He joked with a playful grin and you shook your head in disbelief.

“And here I thought you were just here out of the kindness of your heart. To like pick up on the vibes for inspiration for the music.” You chuckled, feeling even more nervous now. “I was basically told that this was amateur hour by my agent.”

“Well, between the two of us, I’m quite the amateur when it comes to acting.” He said and you laughed a little in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is my first acting gig since…my high school play where I was dragged into playing Rizzo because the original cast member dropped out the week before because she hated how she looked in the wig!” You exclaimed, “Please forget the modesty. You’ve been in a Nolan film!” You said to him and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, and all I did was swim around in the freezing cold ocean trying not to drown in that heavy ass uniform. The panic I portrayed was very real! There was no acting talent required. I was genuinely fighting for my life on that set.” He joked and you laughed and shook your head. 

“Well, I think you’ll get the part. We’re genuinely laughing, right? Or are you acting so well that I can’t tell whether it’s genuine or not?” You asked and he raised his eyebrows smugly.

“Definitely acting, even wore my glasses since the character does int eh script.” He said  jokingly and you giggled.

“Well, they suit you.” You complimented and he smiled bashfully.

“Thanks.” He responded, “But ummm, we are genuinely laughing…I think we’ll do good in there.” He said with a little more confidence.

“I think so too.” You hummed.

“Here’s to hoping. Well, I’m gonna head back in now, but I’ll see you in there, okay? Wish me luck!” He smiled warmly and you smiled and nodded as you watched him head back into the reading room.

************

It almost goes without saying that Harry was cast as the other lead opposite you. You guys did get along well and you also read well together, the screen test was great too. It was evident how personal these roles felt to each of you. So after a few days you were sitting before each other with your teams present to work out the terms of this PR relationship you’d have. It was all pretty basic; some of the parameters set were that this was business so no canoodling outside of the contractually obligated appearances, there were an agreed upon number of appearances you’d have to do during and post production. There were strict boundaries on what PDA was okay and what wasn’t, it was all very straight forward. So with both parties having most of their conditions met, you guys signed the contract.

…. ONE MONTH LATER ….

Now, you guys were a quarter of the way through filming and being the delusional hopeless romantic you were, you’d started developing real feelings for Harry. He was just so sweet and fun and thoughtful. For example, your birthday had fallen during production and he bought you flowers and a cake and had everyone sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you. Or when you had a scheduled appearance but were feeling ill from your period cramps, instead of making you sit through dinner at a restaurant, he drove you to the nearest pharmacy and walked around with you to buy you tampons and snacks. You loved it and everyone else did too. Or just little thoughtful things he’d do for the staff after a long day, he was just a complete sweetheart and it was getting harder and harder for you to just ignore it and not take his kindness all that personally.

Harry wasn’t really one to talk your ear off, he loved conversation, but mostly the listening bit. He liked to learn and hear other people’s thoughts and opinions. Like a sponge, he absorbed all the information and stowed it away for a later time. You could tell by the way he looked at you that he was listening. Like now…

“-it was just really stupid.” You sighed in slight irritation, “Like you just don’t follow someone to their car in a parking garage at night to ask for their picture!” You ranted and he nodded.

“You’re absolutely right. That’s scary, when someone follows you all the way to your car…”

“It was! And it was one of those things where like, if I started to run I knew they would start running after me so I tried to stay calm but in the end I just freaked out a little bit.” You explained, “Fuck, now they’re going to write shit about me being rude online.” You sighed as you guys drove out to the wine bar you were going to be spending some time at this evening.

“Look, you know you did nothing wrong and you’ve never lost it on someone before. If they do post that video and see an empty car park no one is going to think you were being rude. You can’t chase down a woman at night in a parking structure.” He said and you sighed.

“You’re right…” you agreed after you calmed down a bit. “H-how do you do it?”

“Chase women down?” He asked with a playful smile and you rolled your eyes and giggled at his little joke.

“Seriously though. Like deal with the obsessed people and the stalkers that just follow you around from a distance.”

“It is scary for me too. I mean, it sucks to say you get used to it, but you will.” He said and you nodded, “Like I don’t really go out alone in the evenings any more, try to do everything in the day time, with friends if possible. And like at night I’ll drive if I really need to go out, but like I’ve caught people trying to sneak in behind my car at the gate at my home in London. Or just like wait out there for me to come and go. I hate having security there all the time, but for a time I did have someone around patrolling a bit, it did help. Gave me some peace of mind, you know?”

“Yeah…well sorry if I…dampened the mood, I’m just still a little shaken up.” You explained.

“No, I get it.” He assured you with a smile, “Well the wine bar we’re going to is very low-key, so I don’t think anyone will bug us until we walk out to leave. Unless you’re in the mood for something else?” He asked you and you shook your head.

“The wine bar sounds really good right now.” You said to him and he smiled.

Your evening with Harry had been really fun. Not that you guys never had fun, but he was being extra sweet and attentive considering what had happened to you the night before. There were an assortment of board games available to play or you could choose to color and talk, but seeing as you weren’t too keen on any of the games you pulled out your trusty deck of cards from the depths of your purse. He found it extremely amusing that you just had that in your purse but went easy on the teasing. 

You rotated playing a few games, you taught him how to play 21 and Speed and it was getting so competitive. Obviously, you were at an advantage considering you knew how to play the games already. He did alright at 21, but when you started to play speed your expertise shone. You were kicking his ass and eventually beat him enough times (four times) that he decided it was time to change games. He kicked your ass at Scrabble and Connect 4 for retribution, but by that point you’d had at least four glasses of wine and were pretty tipsy. He was too, he was all giggly and pink in the cheeks and the tip of his nose, almost as if he were freezing cold and not teeming with warmth. His voice had dropped a bit deeper and his eyes had a slight glassy sheen over them and they were a bit lidded. You were both far more touchy now, it started rather innocently though.

“You’re cheating.” You said to him as he laughed.

“How can you cheat at Scrabble!?” He asked through his laugh.

“You’re picking your tiles.”

“I am not!” He scoffed through a laugh.

“Let me pick one for you then.”

“Hell no.”

“I’m only getting consonants! I need to prove that something is up.”

“How is that possible?”

“It just is!” You said and he laughed.

“Only if I can pick your letter.”

“Okay, deal.” You agreed and you drew his next five tiles after he’d put down ‘reflex’ joint to your previous word, ‘car’. 

“I got one consonant, a good one too.” He said as he arranged them on his rack.

“Of course you did…” you murmured as you looked over your options. You really only had consonants. “Okay…” you said as you grabbed the only three tiles that would work with what was on the board, “Eggs.” You said with a small smile as you tagged on the g-g-s to one of the e’s in ‘reflex’ and he burst into laughter.

“That’s all you have?! I don’t believe this.” He said.

“It is!” You laughed through your insistence.

“Let me see.” He said reaching for your rack of letters and you batted his hand away.

“Stop cheating!”

“I’m not! I’m trying to help you.” He chuckled as he grabbed your wrists in one hand to grab the rack and turn it towards him. When he saw your letters his smile dropped, “Mmmm, I see your predicament. And here I thought you just couldn’t spell…” He teased with a smirk and you arched your eyebrows up at his little joke.

“Ha-ha.” You mocked and he chuckled.

“Come here.” He said patting the spot beside him on the tabletop and you were tipsy enough that you didn’t question it. You dragged your stool over beside his and he sighed that you were too far and you squealed in surprise when he grabbed the edge and tugged you even closer to him as easily as if he had slid your empty glasses of wine out of the way. You knew he was strong, you’d seen it with your own eyes over the course of your professional relationship together. But with your growing feelings and the wine fogging up your brain you melted inside at this simple display of strength.

“Geez!” You gasped and he chuckled.

“Sorry.” He hummed with a smile before patting at your hip and looking back at the rack of letters he took from you. “Okay, so…you’re a bit fucked.” He said after scanning the rack some more.

“Well, you didn’t need to drag me over here to tell me that.” You giggled and he turned to you.

“Well, you’re here now, so win-win I’d say.” He flirted and you felt the blood rushing up to your face and making your cheeks and ears go hot.

You didn’t move from his side the rest of the time you were there. All games were forgotten, you were just fiddling with each other’s fingers under the table, your hand resting over his thigh, talking nonsense, and giggling as the alcohol got to the both of you. The way he was looking at you was making you feel like the only other person on the planet. You typically shied away from intense, undivided attention but he wasn’t ostentatious in the way he gave it. It was subtle and personal, it made you feel seen. After ordering one more glass you decided it was time to go, so Harry called your driver. You were getting hungry for some real food as you’d only been munching on the complementary bread they’d been bringing you guys.

“Bill’s here.” He informed you and you reached for your bag while Harry came around and helped you off of the high stool. You were wearing some heels because he was just so tall, but of course, your landing was a bit shaky and you both laughed as he grabbed around your waist. “You good?” He asked with a grin and you nodded up at him, “Sure?”

“M’sure. Just got a little wobbly there.” You giggled as you glanced up at him.

“Here.” He said extending his hand.

“It’s alright. I’m good.” You assured him.

“I’m sure you are, but we’re supposed to do the pictures for the paps, remember?” He said more quietly.

“Oh right, right…” you mumbled and it made you a bit sad as you handed your hand over. He took it and started guiding you though the bar to get out.

You could see people in the bar also taking videos of you guys walking out, calling all this attention to yourself like you were supposed to. But hey, at least you were holding his hand. When you guys got outside the flashes started going off and the paps were calling out to you both but you kept your eyes down at Harry’s shoes, you were a little too tipsy for this. Harry’s grip on you tightened as he pulled you to the car waiting right along the curb and then opened the door to help you in before sliding in behind you.

“God, didn’t think there’d be so many.” He said and you nodded as you buckled up.

“Heading home?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, please. And can you make a little detour on the way so we could get some food?”

“Certainly.”

“Okay, we’re still choosing we’ll pick something on route to her place.”

“Sounds good, just let me know.” He smiled and Harry thanked him before asking you again what you wanted. 

You eventually settled on some dumpling place on the way and placed your order online so that it would be ready to pick up when you arrived. Thankfully, that all went to plan and soon you were being dropped off at your house. The lack of stimulation really perpetuated the tipsiness you were both feeling. You were laughing as you navigated your way to your kitchen in mostly the dark, guiding Harry through so that he wouldn’t get hurt.

“Here we are. Can’t wait to eat.” You said and he nodded in agreement. You guys split the food and then curled up on your couch to watch something on the TV while you ate and chatted. Harry started to sober up a lot faster than you which was great as he had to go home after this. You were trying to get on his level so you chugged your big glass of water and then dropped back onto the couch.

“You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, a bit better.” You said and he smiled.

“Good. Did you have fun?” He asked and you nodded.

“A lot of fun actually. Though to be fair, I think you pick fun things to do.” You said and he smiled.

“Oh good! I mean I think I’m quite boring.” He confessed.

“No…I don’t think you’re boring at all. I’m definitely more of a homebody so getting to do all these different things has actually been really great.” You assured him.

“Funny, I pegged you as more of an extrovert than me.” He said and you shook your head.

“Oh no, I’m definitely more introverted than anything.” You chuckled.

“You know, I have a lot of fun with you too. I’m glad it’s you I get to do this with.” He said as he glanced towards you and you smiled down at your lap.

“Yeah, me too.” You responded weakly, but he didn’t catch it, thankfully. 

Truth be told, you were still tipsy and were having a hard time getting down to his level of sobriety. And with that came this avalanche of sincerity that could not be avoided or misdirected. In fact, the longer he stayed with you the more you felt the thread of your composure starting to fray. You were fighting against yourself and your need to get closer to him, you wanted to feel his warmth radiating onto you, you wanted the scent of his cologne to waft over you as you buried yourself into his side. You wanted to feel the rumble of his chest when he spoke lowly to you.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just…thinking.” You said through a tight lipped smile.

“About?”

“Just the film and how much fun I’m having. S’gonna be sad when it’s over.”

“Yeah, it will be. But you don’t have to think about it being over just yet.” He reminded. “We’ve still got a couple more months of filming and things…and this.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You decided and suddenly stood up. “I need to go to the bathroom. Ummm, let me take all of this…” you said of your food containers.

“It’s alright, I’ve got this, you go on.” He assured you and with one more confirmation via a firm nod you headed off to the bathroom.

You just needed to splash some cold water on your face or something. Do anything to freshen up a little and get out of your head. So you did just that as soon as you’d relieved yourself. You grabbed one of the hand towels and soaked it with cold water and dabbed it all over your face. After a few moments you were heading back out and to the kitchen where Harry was just filling up the bag the dumplings had come in with you trash.

“Do you want the vinegar and and chili oil?” He asked, hearing your steps behind him.

“Ummm, just the chili oil. I repurpose it.” You said and he smiled and dropped in the two little sauce cups of black vinegar before tying it up. “You can just leave it, I have to take it out back.” 

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright. Well, it’s nearing 1am, I should get going.” He said as he turned around and you nodded.

“Yeah. Ummm, are you good t-to drive?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, the food really sealed the deal.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“Positive? You can stand on one leg?” You asked jokingly and he did so. “Count down from 100 in intervals of 7?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and he scrunched his face down pensively.

“I can try…I didn’t finish high school so it might be a bit harder for me thank most.” He said with a small grin.

“Mmm…don’t think that’ll hold up in court.” You joked and he laughed and shook his head.

“You’re quite funny, you know?” He said and you smiled and shrugged.

“Triple threat.”

“I think that third is supposed to be the dancing bit actually.”

“Who cares about dancing? Would you rather a partner who can dance or who makes you laugh?”

“Mmm…Facts.” He smiled and you shrugged.

“No brainer.” You said and he nodded, “Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll walk you out.” You said and you guys made your way to your door.

“Genuinely, I’ve had an especially fun time with you tonight.” Harry said as you got into the foyer.

“Me too. I’ve never done something like that before.”

“Well, we could always do it again, maybe you’ll have better luck with Scrabble.” He smiled and you chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe.” You said, “Hey so ummm, in a few months the LA Opera is opening up Turandot.” You said and he looked at you quizzically, “I’m sure you know the most famous song, or at least heard it?”

“How does it go?”

“It’s the…Nessun dorma, nessun dorma. Tu pure o principessa, nella tua fredda stanza… you’ve heard it.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.”

“Yeah, it’s this incredible Italian opera and I’ve always wanted to see it but none of my friends are really into that. Not that you are, but you said you like classical music, this is kind of a branch of of that…in a way and-”

“I’d love to go.” He said and you smiled.  

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. We could tally off another one of our appearances.” He said and you bit your lip as the pang of hurt radiated from your chest and out to the rest of your body. But you smiled and nodded.

“Y-yeah, exactly. Just get another one of those out of the way.” You responded, trying your best to ward off the growing knot that was lodged up in your throat. You really were just inviting him as a friend, not as part of your PR arrangement, so the sting of rejection remained.

“Cool, I’ll get the details from my team then.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, holding back the need to cry now. It hurt so bad, you hadn’t been in this position in a long while, the unrequited affections position. You really just struggled with dating so you hadn’t really spent a lot of time with someone you were into in a long time so everything was just intensified in a way, including the disappointment. You quickly opened up the door to get him out of there as soon as possible so that you could go cry it out for a bit. “Remember we don’t shoot tomorrow morning.” You reminded and he smiled.

“Positive?” He asked as he turned to you and you nodded.

“It’s an afternoon shoot tomorrow.” 

“Okay, thank you. When’s call time?”

“For you it’s 3pm.” You said and he nodded.

“Okay…I really should start adding these to my calendar.”

“You should.” You concurred as he turned back to you with a smile.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He said and you nodded and he stepped closer and went in for a hug. You did hug sometimes, but you didn’t want to just now, but you gave in anyway, relaxing into his embrace as he squeezed around you just a bit. “Sleep well, alright?” He said softly as he started to pull back and you nodded but then he turned his head a bit and your noses bumped together.

“Sorry-”

“S’my fault.” He chuckled and then glanced down at your lips. “I ummm…” he trailed off and just grabbed your jaw gently and tilted it up and kissed you quickly on the lips. You didn’t even have time to react before he pulled away. “Shit.” He cursed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Obviously, that was a mistake, I shouldn’t have done that.” He rambled as he let you go and took a step back.

“It’s alright, Harry.” You said and he shook his head.

“I didn’t even ask you and ummm…I don’t know, something just came over me and I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean t-to kiss you. Fuck…” he cursed at himself.

“Harry, I’m not upset. It’s fine.” You assured, trying to hint at the fact that you were very okay with this. 

“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s not.” He said firmly and you couldn’t help it as your eyes started to well up, “It was a mistake. I’m not like into- like it just happened, okay?” He said instead and you just nodded. He was backed up enough now that he couldn’t see your glassy eyes all that well anymore.

“I get it, Harry. Drive safe.” You rushed out and then hurried inside and closed your door before locking it and resting your forehead against it as a soft sob broke past your throat.

*****************

After the initial shock wore off Harry rushed up to your door again, about to knock and apologize again but just as his first raised up he heard the latch of the deadbolt and sighed in defeat. He rested his forehead against the thick door for just a moment before he walked to his car. He got in and then glanced up to see if he could spot you through a window or make out where in the house you were by the flick of a light, but it just stayed dark for a minute or so and he shook his head.

“Fuck…fuck me.” He grumbled before taking off.

Harry actually had no idea where that impulse to kiss you had come from. He did like you, he wouldn’t have agreed to anything more than the film if he didn’t. And he had also had so much fun working with you so far, it was just so easy and such a good vibe that he often forgot that it was “work”. Like tonight, after having a few glasses of wine he was feeling rather touchy and vulnerable, like he usually did when he drank, and it was so nice to feel that relaxed around you. He felt comfortable and it really was just one of those impulsive thoughts that he had. He had thought about kissing you before, you would for the film. But lately it was on his mind a lot more because those scenes would start filming soon. Maybe even in the upcoming week. 

Harry wanted to call Tommy or Jeffrey and tell them what he did but he kew he’d get an earful and he didn’t want that right now. He just needed a little sympathy and possibly another drink. So he called one his more discrete friends as she also lived in Beverly Hills, just about 10 minutes away from you. And they sat out by the fire pit as they sipped on a cocktail. He was petting at her dog’s back while he shared what he’d done and how anxious he was feeling about having to face you at work now. He told her about the PR stunt and how he felt like he’d majorly crossed a line. And when she asked him why he was beating himself over this so much he wasn’t sure what to say. And she helped talk him down and reminded him that if you had said it was OK and you weren’t angry that this was entirely about him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re making it bigger than it is. I mean…do you like her?”

“Of course I like her. We get along really well and-”

“You know what I mean, H.” She said with a knowing smile and he licked over his lips.

“Yeah, I guess I do a bit. Like starting too but I can’t you know? Last time I got involved with a co-worker it didn’t turn out so great for her. People were cruel.” He said.

“Well this isn’t last time. But I mean, if that’s now a boundary that you really don’t want to test ever again then do what’s going to make you feel better. But I mean, attraction and feelings are sort of out of our hands, you know?” She said with a smile, “And burying those too deep also isn’t good for you.” 

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“Did she kiss back?” 

“No.” He said quietly and she hummed, “I mean, it was fast…maybe she would have…I’m glad I didn’t stick around to find out though.” He admitted.

“So…I think you know how you want to proceed then.” She said and he sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess…I guess I do.” 

He ended up staying the night there as neither of them had anything in the morning. But he headed home after one final pep talk from her, he needed to mentally prepare for seeing you again. He was an absolute wreck over it, his stomach was turning anxiously when he arrived before his call time just to talk to you, you were likely already there in hair and makeup. There was a dinner party scene you guys were filming, it was the scene where his character began to see yours in a different light. Very appropriate. 

“Hey Harry.” One of staffers greeted him as he breezed by.

“Hello!” He waved and then pushed up his glasses further not he bridge of his nose. He hurried over to the hair/makeup trailer. He knocked and heard a cheerful “come in!” From the artist Veronica. Harry stepped inside and as soon as your eyes met through the mirror you looked away quickly and then his eyes met Veronica’s.

“Hey H! I wasn’t expecting you yet!” She said with a smile.

“Just wanted to drop by a bit earlier.” He said and she nodded.

“Well feel free to sit, I’m almost done with Y/n. I’m ahead of schedule.”

“Thanks, ummm, I actually needed a word w-with Y/n.” He said to her, “If I can?” He asked and then glanced to you, to see if that was alright with you. You held his gaze for a second before you nodded.

“It’ll just be a moment, V.” You said to her.

“Maybe like 5-10 minutes.” He said to you and your inhale literally stopped. Your stomach fluttered violently, your heart pounded hard, and your mouth slightly dried.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll go get a drink. Do you guys want anything from the cafe?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”, “No thank you.” You and Harry responded and she smiled and gave him a pat on the arm as she walked past him and out of the trailer. Harry approached and sat in the seat adjacent to yours. You turned to him and he looked sad, defeated.

“Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry.” He apologized again and your eyes flickered down to your lap and you shook your head with a small smile.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Harry.” You assured him, “I’m not mad. Quite frankly I’m relieved because…because I…I uh-”

“Please, don’t.” He interrupted and your eyes fluttered up to his as the lump in your throat grew, “I know you what you’re about to say. Please don’t say it.” He implored and you bit down on your lip to hold back from frowning. “It doesn’t work. It won’t.” He said with certainty, “I’ve been there…I’ve fallen in love with a really wonderful person who was working along side me and it messed her up.” He said with a frown. “I can’t do that to anyone ever again.” He explained.

“I get it.” You whispered.

“Believe me, it’s hard. I think we work well together, don’t we. We mesh!”

“Really nicely.” You agreed.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, “So let’s-lets just do what we need to do and call it a day.”

“Okay.” You nodded your head robotically. You just shut down all your feelings because you couldn’t show him how deep in it you were by now. If you could save yourself from anything, at least the embarrassment.

“Does this change anything for you in terms of like the dates-er appearances w-we have to do?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No. Don’t want to make a fuss. Fred is kind of a nag, don’t want him harping and teasing me about it until something more embarrassing or astonishing makes him forget it.” You said.

“Yeah, they can give you a hard time…” he said and you nodded.

“Well uh- actually there is one thing.” You said and he nodded, “T-the opera thing ummm, let’s not do that.” You said and he frowned a bit, “It’s just that when I asked I ummm…I wasn’t asking you to go as an idea for the appearances. This kind of means a lot to me and I was actually asking you to come with me as a friend.” You clarified, “I’d want to go with well…someone who-”

“I get it.” He said with a small smile.

“Thank you.” You nodded.

“Well that’s it I guess.”

“Yeah.” You whispered and he stood and left quite awkwardly.

Once again, he was kicking himself over what he’d just done but it was for the best. He needed to put an end to this before he let himself like you a little too much and it ruined everything. Or worse, he gave in and you guys tried for a bit before things inevitably went to shit because of how awful the public were to you until they wore you down…better safe than sorry. He needed to stop this before it was too late.

***************

You were definitely hurt but you understood where Harry was coming from. And maybe he was right, it was just a bad idea to get involved more than professionally. Admittedly, if you had been in the place of his last girlfriend there was no way you could’ve been as poised as she was through all of it. Through all of the rumors, all of the hate, all of the lies, all of the tasteless jokes… you were confident in yourself but not to that extent, surely you’d have a public breakdown at some point with all of that pressure. 

But as the days went by you realized that you’d soon be filming the more intimate parts of this film. Normally, films didn’t film chronologically but this one did. The director really wanted to capture the natural growing closeness between you and Harry as filming progressed. Truth be told, you were acting your asses off and everyone on the set was buying it even though the bond between you two had broken down. Even your dates were different; you guys weren’t talking as much as before or learning more and more details about each other like before. Now you mostly talked about work to him or your plans after filming but nothing too personal. 

You were still nervous for the intimate scenes though, that’s what you would be doing today, the first intimate scene. You would surely do something to give away just how real your yearning was for him. Your actions couldn’t lie. Especially after you hadn’t been able to kiss back when he’d kissed you a few weeks before.

“Nervous?” Veronica asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, a bit.” You confessed.

“Don’t be. Just work with the natural tension and attraction the two of you already have going on and it’ll be perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Girl, you’re really gonna make me say it?” She said with a tsk.

“There’s nothing else going on.” You said and she gave you a disbelieving look.

“What was that a couple weeks ago with the “ten minute talk” he needed to have with you?” She asked you.

“It genuinely was a talk. We had a misunderstanding and I was a little upset at him.” You explained and her gaze softened from teasing and playful to sorry for assuming.

“Oh…I could’ve sworn that you guys-”

“No. No. I mean…I…I like him. Like that.” You said a bit shamefully and she pouted and sat down in the seat beside yours and nodded as she listened, “It’s kind of impossible not to when we spend so much time together and have gotten to know each other the way we have. Like god, it’s so amateur of me…” you shook your head and she sighed.

“Hey, no. Look at me, hon. Attraction is natural, you can’t help how you feel or how your brain responds to something! And quite frankly I think he…likes you too.” She said and you smiled sadly and shook your head.

“He doesn’t, that’s what he said that day. That he didn’t want to blur the lines and like…it’s been so weird since. So dry and robotic…ugh, I hate it so much. I don’t know how I can do this for another eight weeks.” You sighed.

“Well after you have to kiss all day just…act cool. It’s whatever, yeah? I’ve kissed tons of people and not all of it has to mean something, you know?”

“Yeah… I hope I can.”

“You can. You can do it. And i-if you need to talk about it or just be sad about it after you can talk to me. I won’t say a thing. Promise.” She assured you. 

“Thank you.” You said to Veronica and she smiled and nodded.

“Of course, hon.” she assured and this made you feel better. You could certainly get through the next weeks of filming if you had someone to talk to about this.

…. 8 WEEKS LATER ….

The lighting was dim as you approached the front door, the heavy and constant knocks on the door made you hasten your step. You finally opened the door to see Harry drenched from head to toe, clothes clinging to his skin as his eyes met yours.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, your features creased in confusion as he stepped froward and you stepped back into the entrance.

“I needed to see you.” He said as he swung the front door back and it closed with a heavy thud.

“You just saw me-”

“I didn’t like seeing you with him.” He said coming closer and you sighed.

“Listen-”

“He’s not nearly good enough for you.” He said to you firmly and you scoffed.

“As much as I valued your opinion before, I don’t really care for it right now and I didn’t ask.” You responded.

“You didn’t need to. I know you.” He said as he reached for you and you increased the distance between the two of you.

“No you don’t. Not anymore.” You shook your head as your eyes started to well up.

“Don’t say that.” He frowned, the hurt evident on his face, “You’re my best friend. I know you.” He insisted again and you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“We haven’t spoken since…” you trailed off and swallowed thickly.

“Since I let you walk away.” He finished your thought for you and you nodded. “I was scared.” He admitted.

“You weren’t scared with April or Sarah.” You said and he sighed.

“They weren’t you. There was more to lose with you.” He explained and you shook your head.

“That’s a miserable excuse. You always do this!” You groaned with frustration, “You see that I’ve moved on, that I’m happy and then you come to me and make me believe you-”

“I know you’re not happy.” He interrupted.

“I’m happier than when I’m playing this stupid game with you!” You raised your voice, your breathing shallow as you expressed your frustration and he frowned. “You say you love me and fuck me and then say we can’t be together!”

“Can’t you see how that proves how much I love you?” He asked sincerely, his eyes meeting yours and you glanced away and shook your head, “I’ve loved you this whole time but I can’t risk losing my best friend.” He said and you sniffled as your tears started to fall.

“You don’t love me.” You rejected his claim, “You love who I’ve been for you. Always available, desperate for you to realize that I’ve been here the whole time, but I’m not that person anymore. I don’t need you any more.” You said and he frowned, “You don’t know what’s it been like…” you said to him with a sad smile, “Being here. Waiting. Watching you choose someone else over and over again and when it fails you come running back to me. But I’ve realized that if I wasn’t good enough to be your first or second choice, surely I’m not enough for you now. And I never will be.” You said to him, your voice cracked a bit.

“You are enough. You’re more than! I just wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t want to hurt you and lose you.” He explained reaching for your hands and you pulled them out of his grip.

“Well, you hurt me any way. And you lost me anyway. And now that you know you’ve lost me you hate to see it. Well good.” You seethed and he frowned.

“Baby-”

“Don’t. Don’t start with that.” You warned with a frown, “I don’t believe you anymore. I gave my heart over to you every time, like an idiot, thinking that I’d be safe with you and every single time you’ve disappointed me! Well, not anymore.” You said and he reached for you again. “Please leave.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me that you love me too.” He pressed and you scoffed.

“You need to move on!” You laughed incredulously.

“I can’t! Believe me, I’ve tried!” He raised his voice, his breathing hard, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you and that I’ve disappointed you but I’m not afraid anymore.” He said reaching for your hands once more and this time you let him take them, “I’m not afraid of the love we have for each other. I will do anything I can to prove to you that it’ll be different this time. That I won’t disappoint you ever again.” He said earnestly, “Please.” He begged and you swallowed thickly. “I need you like I need air! Being away from you has been torture. And seeing you with someone else has been worse than torture.” He said grabbing your jaw and angling you up gently. His thumb wiped your tears away carefully and you closed your eyes, “Nuh-uh, look at me.” He insisted and your eyes blinked open and met his again. “Say it. Say that you love me, baby. I need to hear you say it.” He practically begged as he leaned in closer.

“I love you.” You whispered and he quickly closed the gap between you. 

His warm, plump lips met your own hungrily. The soft wet sounds of your kisses and shallow breaths were  the only noises in the background, everything was perfectly still otherwise and it really felt like you two were the only people in the world in this moment. You were so close his sopping clothes were transferring the wetness to your own top and his strong hands were holding you low on your hips now, you could feel the cold of them through the thin sleep shorts you were in. “I love you, I do.” You mumbled against his lips and then pulled back and he chased after you but you turned your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed the corner of your mouth and up your jaw, “But I love me more.” You said as you pushed him back and he loosened his grip on you as he pulled back to look at you, his disappointment evident in his gaze, his eyes searching yours. “I’m more than a last resort.” You said and he frowned, “I always chose you and you never chose me, so I’m choosing myself over you this time.” You said and he looked at you with disappointment.

“Cara-”

“You’re going to be okay.” You assured him and he shook his head.

“What a silly thing to say.” He whispered with doubt, a sad smile on his lips.

“If I am after everything, you will be too.” You assured him with a half smile and he let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quite pitifully and you nodded.

“I know.” You said once more and he rolled his lips together and nodded before silently turning around and heading out the door. You walked over and turned the lock and then turned around and let out a long exhale and then your lips turned up in a small, but sincere smile as you glanced up to the ceiling and made direct eye contact with the camera peering down at you.

“CUT!” The director shouted and you exhaled and your smile widened, “And that’s a wrap!” She shouted and everyone broke out in a cheer. She rushed over and hugged you tight, praising you for how excellent this final scene was. Harry came over as well and got his own hug from her, thanking him for his delivery and congratulating him on a job well done. You also gave him a brief hug before greeting others from the cast.

All the raw emotions of the project being completed really helped you guys along this final scene. It had been one of those magical moments where the first take went perfectly. You guys ran through the entire dialogue and it worked exactly as everyone had envisioned it. Truly, you hardly even noticed the cameras around you guys. The film would be released on Prime in three short months, which was when your contractual obligation to each other would end. Your appearances together were going to be far more “private” now that filming was about to wrap. Sure, you’d be seen out at places together, but it was supposed to start to slow down. You had prepared what you would say when someone inevitably asked you what was going on between you two during the promo tour and press junkets. That you guys got really close to the characters and also each other during filming and just let these bleed together while filming and that obviously, it had started to cool down since you weren’t seeing each other every single day for 10 to 11 of the 24 hours the day had. 

“We did it.” Harry said as he came up to you as you guys got ready to go and you nodded.

“Yeah. It’s crazy that it’s already done.” You chuckled, still a little bit in shock and he nodded.

“Right…well I did have fun filming with you.” 

“Same.” You said with a small smile and he nodded.

“Are you going to the cast dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course, I’m in the cast…” You said through a chuckle.

“Duh…” he said nervously as he looked down at his feet in a bit of embarrassment.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed and turned to get into your car and just offered one final wave before you took off. 

You glanced back to see him still standing there, watching you go. You were glad your windows were tinted so that he couldn’t see you staring back, but you just weren’t sure what to feel. As much as you were into him, you were dreading the rest of your time “together”. Clearly to him this was just like any other task he had for work, maybe he was used to this but you weren’t. You’d never done anything like this before and you kind of expected him to be a little more understanding and not so harsh and cold about it like he had been with you.

…. TWO MONTHS LATER ….

Harry wasn’t that clueless, he noticed the shift in your interactions with him after filming ended. Almost as if you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to see each other every single day for hours and hours at a time. He knew that you liked him and he wished he had handled that differently because clearly the way he went about it hurt your feelings to the extent that you’d gone completely cold on him.

When you’d go out and he’d grab your hand it was dead weight in his grip. When he’d drape his arm around your shoulder he could feel the tension in them. And when you’d exchange “loving glances” your smile didn’t light up your eyes like before. Maybe it was just what you needed to do to get through the last month of this stunt but it was just going bad now. He wanted to apologize but he had no idea what he even needed to apologize for because he wasn’t sorry about the conversation he’d had with you.

You guys needed to tighten things up at the personal level, clearly he got far too comfortable with you fast and it scared him. He didn’t want to get hurt again and he didn’t want to hurt you either. He’d done this to protect you both from getting far more involved than necessary and now he felt like even the potential friendship he could have with you was crumbling before him which was really unfortunate. 

He was feeling bummed out as he drove past your tall, wooden gate and up the long driveway to your house. He saw another car there but didn’t really mind it as he parked somewhere out of its way. He was getting out of his car when the front door opened and out rushed some guy who definitely looked familiar, probably some other industry guy. His hair was wet and he looked a bit surprised to see Harry there, so he rushed to his car.

“Hey!” He called after him and hurried towards him.

“Look man, she said you guys aren’t dating and-”

“Wait, she slept with you?” Harry asked with a small frown.

“So you are dating?” He asked and Harry shook his head ‘no’, “Thank, fuck. Then, yes, we did.” He said and Harry nodded and swallowed thickly.

“Is she- can I go in?”

“Yeah, she’s just finishing up her shower.” He said and Harry nodded.

“Thanks, mate.” He mumbled before heading towards the door. 

With every step he took the anger rose and rose further and further. You were being reckless, putting everything in jeopardy all to what? Get back at him for not liking you back? He was waiting in the kitchen, but when he heard you singing along to whatever was playing on your phone as you made your way down he hurried out to meet you. When he rounded the corner and saw you coming down the final step you gasped in surprise.

“Oh my god, Harry!” You scolded with a hand over your chest as you put your music on pause. He didn’t answer so you walked past him, “You’re here a lot early.” You said to him playfully as he followed you wordlessly. He was just so fuming mad after seeing a faint hickey right beneath your jaw, “Hello?” You questioned him until his frustrated gaze met yours.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He questioned you.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I saw him leaving. That guy.” He came right out and said it.

“Look, it was a spur of the moment thing, we were just having dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“You fucked him.” He said and you sighed. “How could you do that?” He asked you in disbelief.

“What do you mean? It’s not like we’re actually together.” You scoffed and he frowned but then let the anger overcome him once more.

“Exactly! We’re not together and if anyone sees some stupid dweeb leaving your house then all of this is going to be for nothing!” He rationalized.

“Oh my god, no one’s gonna see anything, Harry…”

“They might see that fucking hickey on your neck!” He argued, “How clueless can you be?!” He was berating you now, his voice raised and his expression creased in a scowl and you frowned.

“I didn’t think about that. I mean, I-I can cover it. If not, they’ll just think it was you.” You said more quietly.

“No one would ever believe that was me. I have never left visible marks on anyone I’ve been with. My fans will never buy it.” He said pointedly. “You can’t do shit with other people while we are contractually obligated to each other. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, Y/N!”

“Well, there is no clause about that! And I was careful!”

“Not careful enough! I can’t believe you would do something so stupid and all for what? To get back at me?” He scoffed with an accusatory tone and now it was your turn to scoff incredulously.

“Oh, don’t fucking flatter yourself, Harry!” You laughed mawkishly as you rolled your eyes up in disbelief.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t do this on purpose to piss me off.” 

“Why would I want to piss you off if I have to spend a whole fucking day with you?” You asked him and well, he had no idea. “He likes me and he wanted to have dinner with me. I said I couldn’t do that out in public so I offered for him to come over instead.”

“He doesn’t like you, he just wanted to fuck you.” Harry said with a sarcastic smile.

“Well good for him then! He did!”

“You’re being childish.”

“I’m being childish? You’re the one waltzing in here over an hour early, might I add, yelling at me because I hooked up with someone in the privacy of my home when we’re not even a thing!”

“I already told you why I’m angry at you over this.”

“Well I already told you that I was careful! This is my first time doing something like this and I made a bad judgment call. I genuinely didn’t think it would be a problem.” You said and he shook his head. 

“You knew it would be. You did it to get back at me for…never mind.” He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“For what? Finish the sentence, Harry.” You demanded.

“You know why.” He said lowly and you arched your eyebrows up.

“I don’t. Enlighten me, please.” You insisted.

“Because of what I said to you before about us. I hurt your feelings and-”

“Yeah, you were kind of a prick about it but I’m not offended. You were right about that and I think I’ve done enough to manage what I used to feel for you-”

“Used to feel? The wave of hostility you’ve unleashed upon me after I rejected you says otherwise. And I think you’re just acting out because you can’t get a handle on your feelings. You’re being impulsive and it’s going to throw a wrench in things!”

“I’m being impulsive? Who kissed who, Harry? I’m forgetting…” You said sarcastically and he glanced to the ground.

“That was a mistake.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that abundantly clear over and over again, thanks.” You said with irritation. “And I’m not being hostile. I’m doing what I need to do until we just get this stupid thing over with!” You said to him, completely exasperated, “I’ve never done this before, OK? I didn’t expect t-to like you like I do-er did.” You corrected yourself with a shake of your head, “I’m sure it was weird for you the first time you did it.” You said and his jaw clenched up because you were right. 

His first PR stunt fucked him up for a while…he was still a teenager, frontal lobe smooth as butter. But he let himself fall and he thought she was too and well, to this day he was still a hot topic amongst her projects. It did bother him a little bit at first, he reckoned it’d bother anyone but he didn’t give it the satisfaction of a negative response ever. He changed the narrative, called it a compliment even though he had no idea where the fuck he was going with that at the moment. He never said a bad thing even through his music even though he’d been painted as the “bad guy” who was a player and couldn’t commit over and over again. He’d hoped it would work out but to anyone outside of it, it was kind of obvious that it wouldn’t go anywhere. After all, what could a 23 year old want with a 18 year old in any serious manner? The point being, that these PR stunts and crossing professional lines always left one or both people hurting if they weren’t overly cautious, which is why he had said what he had said to you. 

But now he was jealous, gut wrenchingly jealous when he shouldn’t be. You had made a mistake but you had been cautious to not endanger what you guys had signed on for. He was being far too harsh with you and sensitive about this and he needed to reel it back in. You were waiting for him to say something, anything…

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was a stupid mistake.” He said again and you swallowed thickly.

“Yeah, I get it.” You responded lowly.

“Do you?” He asked. He was patronizing you and you glanced up to the ceiling and shook your head.

“Harry, honestly, I don’t need this. Please leave.” You said to him and he frowned.

“But we-”

“I don’t want to be with you for the whole fucking day and pretend that I like you.” You said and he felt his heart shrivel up.

“We have an obligation to do an appearance-”

“Well I’ll see you around dinner time then because I don’t want to be around you right now.” You said to him and he bit on the inside of his cheek to distract from the hurt in his heart.

“Yeah, alright.” He said lowly and turned around to leave.

“Congrats by the way.” You said to him and he sighed and looked back at you quizzically, “You got what you wanted this whole time, I don’t think I like you anymore.” You said to him callously and he suddenly wanted to throw up so he just hurried out of there and sat in his car in utter silence for a few minutes before taking off.

You guys did meet over dinner and he apologized for how he’d handled the whole situation earlier that day. You'd cooled off enough as well and apologized for not considering what he had mentioned and assured him that you wouldn’t do it again while you were contractually obligated to each other. He was hoping to hear you say that you didn’t mean what you’d said about not liking him anymore, but he never got the satisfaction. He was certain you’d spoken purely out of anger with him, especially after he’d been such a dick about it, but maybe you just needed to tell yourself that to really not let your feelings grow anymore than they had or even to just not have some illusion that he was jealous. Which he was, but he’d never admit that to you or anyone else, he hardly admitted it to himself. But by the end of the night you were both very cordial with each other and able to hug before heading your own ways.

…. FOUR MONTHS LATER ….

The film had been a success to say the least. It was getting decent reviews and your press for it had been good. After you and Harry had put aside your problems after your fight things got monumentally better. There were tons of questions about whether you guys were dating or not and you both explained your attraction and dedication to your roles expertly, leaving a hint of mystery behind every time this came up, in very Harry-esque nature. But each night before you went to bed in whatever city you were for the night you thought of Harry, how could you not?

Of course you still liked him, even now, after months of not seeing each other your heart went all soft and gooey at the thought of him. Yeah, you had said that you didn’t like him anymore hoping to get a reaction out of him when you fought. You knew that he was jealous that day and you wanted him to just admit it, you wanted to get a rise out of him and hope he spoke up but in his true obstinate nature, he never did. You wondered what would’ve happened if he had admitted it. Where would you be now? Probably on a vacation somewhere really getting to know the parts of each other that you’d left guarded, which admittedly weren’t many.

“Earth to Y/N…” your friend said, snapping you out of your thoughts and you chuckled in slight embarrassment.

“Sorry, what?” You asked.

“I asked if you and Harry still talk.” She repeated her question.

“Oh right…ummm, n-not really. It’s not like we’re close friends, we just worked together. We just had to be super chummy during the press tours and stuff. Like it was a really superficial friendship I’d say.” You fibbed and she sighed.

“So no free shows for us…” She mumbled and you smiled a bit and shrugged apologetically, “You had one job.” She joked and you giggled before getting back to eat and everyone else started talking again. 

In reality, you and Harry had gotten close after spending so much time together. You’d shared a lot of things with him and vise versa. He had been a little more hesitant to take it there but after a good month or so of constantly being around each other and “seeing each other” he started to open up about more real and deep things. Things like how much he worried about his mom, how she deserved to be happy and have a full life full of love. How he was worried that he’d never be able to really stop making music and touring at the level he did now and it would affect his ability to marry and have his own family. How he wished there was a way to know that you were doing the right thing or going down the best path and you guys talked about that a lot. About what “the right thing” was. About what it meant to be happy and fulfilled. What was most important to him now and could he afford to keep pushing the rest of his life back to relish where he was now.

You were an over thinker, much like him, and you guys talked about how nice it was when you didn’t worry so much and just lived day to day, focusing on that day’s challenges and blessings. It was nice, you felt comfortable around him and safe, looked after. He was good at making people feel seen and special and with all of that it was hard not to start to fall for him. You missed him a lot. You wanted to text him or call him sometimes just to see how he was doing, what he was up to, if by any chance he missed you too…When you had that thought you smiled to yourself a bit and talked yourself out of it. Of course he didn’t miss you, he was probably glad you were gone, something less for him to deal with and worry about.

****************

Harry’s POV

Harry had been lying in bed for a good hour already, drifting in and out of sleep. He canceled his work out and his morning swim, he didn’t have the energy to go to that right now. And that’s how he knew that he was in a bad way, when even those simple pleasures weren’t even a little appealing to him. In all honesty, he’d been feeling like this for a few weeks now and it all started when he was at dinner with some friends and one of your songs came over the speakers at the restaurant. At first it felt good to hear your voice, it made him feel happy and warm inside, but when he was at home later that night and all alone in his bed he started to miss you. And he felt so awful. 

He felt awful about how he’d handled his attraction towards you. He hated how afraid he was of doing what his heart asked him to. He missed going on “dates” with you. He missed the conversations you guys had, he missed seeing the sincere care in your eyes when he shared things or opened up about topics he felt nervous about. He was never judged by you, in fact he felt accepted with you. He looked forward to the time you’d spend together off the set for a reason, it was because he liked you. A lot. And now he felt foolish for being too scared to admit it when he had the chance. He was sad when he came to the realization that you’d probably moved on and closed off your heart to him after how he behaved.

Regardless, he wanted to see you or at the very least to hear your voice. He at least needed to reach out and let you know that he was thinking of you. He did have a trip to LA in a few weeks and he decided that he’d reach out and see if you wanted to hang out for a bit, he only had two days of work things to take care of but he could add a few more days to his travel plans if it meant making things right with you.

…. A FEW WEEKS LATER ….

You were genuinely shocked when Harry’s name lit up your phone screen one breezy afternoon. It was past midnight his time so you had a mind to just ignore it, he was probably drunk or something…but then you remembered how sweet and giggly he was when he’d had a little much to drink, so you swiped at your screen and brought your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” 

“Hey!” He sounded relieved. Relieved that you had answered?

“Ummm…are you drunk?” You asked immediately and he huffed out a little chuckle.

“No…why would I be drunk at this hour?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows a little bit in confusion.

“Well you’re calling me past midnight your time so I just assumed. Unless something is wrong? Are you okay?” You asked next.

“Yeah, I’m fine. And I’m actually on your time. And while I enjoy day drinking as much as the next person I can assure you I am not drunk. I just ummm…I wanted to see if you had any free time in the next couple days or so? Maybe we could see each other?” He suggested hopefully and you felt your stomach sink. 

The less mature part of you wanted to be a smart ass with him, tell him you didn’t need to hang out as your contract was long over. But you did miss him and as much as his invitation raised up some of your past irritations with him it wasn’t worth being a bitch to him over, especially after all of that time. Maybe this was him extending an olive branch? Maybe you guys could be proper friends now that your working relationship was over.

“Ummm, yeah. I actually don’t have any plans at all the next few days.” You explained.

“And work?”

“I’m not doing anything right now just relishing in the big bucks from our hit rom-com.” You said with a dry sarcasm and he chuckled.

“God, already letting all that fame get to your head, are you?” He teased and you giggled.

“Yeah, I’m changed.” You responded and he laughed. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You asked.

“Dinner? I’m renting this really beautiful place up in the hills and it has the most impeccable views, you’d love it. There’s a hot tub and a pool and a piano, we could just hang out here for a while? Or if you prefer to do something in town somewhere we could do that too.”

“Well I do want to see this house you’re staying at but ummm, I don’t want to impose or anything and-”

“I’m inviting you over, you’re not imposing in any way, love.” He assured.

“Alright then. Well when do you prefer I come over?”

“Do you want to do tomorrow? Say around 3 or 4?” He asked and you bit on your lip, “We could talk, swim, share music because I’m certain you’ve been writing.” He said knowingly and you smiled.

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll show up sometime between 3 and 4, gotta keep you on your toes, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So bring your swim suit, or don’t I mean, either way you can expect to get in the water…” he said suggestively and you chuckled.

“Should I bring anything else?”

“No just yourself.” He said and you nodded, “We can plan dinner once you’re here.”

“Alright, sounds good. See ya’.” 

“See you soon.” He replied and then you quickly hung up.

You set your phone down on your lap and just let your face contort in confusion. What was that all about? You guys weren’t even friends… sure, things were this easy with him all the time but you couldn’t help but question his motives. Maybe he still felt guilty for how things transpired between the two of you and he just needed to do this to confirm that you weren’t upset at him. You grabbed your phone and called him back, he picked up right away.

“Hello?”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

“Wait, what?” He questioned you and you sighed.

“What do you want from me by asking me over to hang out or whatever?” You asked more clearly and Harry frowned upon hearing you asking this.

“Ummm, I didn’t…mean anything by it, it’s just hanging out.” He said and you sighed.

“Right, but we’re not friends.” You said and his heart lurched in his chest, “Now that we aren’t working together we can be or what?” You asked for clarity.

“I mean, yes, i-if you want that?” He said with a questioning tone.

“Okay…” you said and trailed off.

“Is there something wrong with that?” He asked and you weren’t sure how to answer that.

“I just ummm…I don’t know if I can trust that you won’t get all…weird.” You said to him.

“That’s valid.”

“I mean we were friends before. Or at least I considered us t-to have a friendship to some extent and then you just…took that away.” You explained and he nodded with a frown as he heard you out.

“I think we were friends too.” He agreed, “I just have a hard time letting people in.”

“And now you don’t?” You asked.

“No, I certainly do but I…” he sighed and licked over his lips as he plopped down on the couch as he stared at the ceiling as he decided to just admit it, “I miss you.” He confessed and you bit your lip upon hearing his words. You hoped it would stop the butterflies that were starting to flutter about in your tummy but it wasn’t doing much. “Honestly Y/N, I don’t think I handled the relationship between us the right way and-”

“Can I come over right now?” You interrupted him.

“Ummm, y-yes. Sure.” He said nervously.

“I just think we ought to have this conversation in person.” You explained and he smiled a bit. God, you had to make it harder for him, didn’t you?

“You’re right.” He conceded. “I’ll send you the address right now.”

“Should I still bring a swim suit?” You asked, he could heard the smirk on your face and he chuckled. Your smiled widened at your successful attempt to lighten the mood.

“We can talk things out in the hot tub.” He joked.

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Yeah, drive safe.” He said and you thanked him and hung up again.

You headed up to your room and grabbed a bathing suit, a simple, paisley print, two-piece and dropped it into your tote and then took off. You were nervous, not so much about what he would say but at the prospect of you leaving with any sense of false hope. Yeah, he missed you, but that didn’t really mean anything but that. You couldn’t or shouldn’t read into that in any way. When you were all in your head like this time just escaped you and soon enough you were pulling up to the gate and putting in the code he had texted you before you started heading up the driveway. You only waited a few moments at the door after ringing the doorbell before he opened it up. 

“Hi.” He said softly with a smile on his face and you smiled back.

“Hey.” You responded, you just looked at each other for a few moments before he chuckled and moved out of the way.

“Oh, come in. Please.” He said and allowed you to step inside. You looked around as he locked up. The home was very modern, an open concept type of thing and it had one of those sunken living rooms that were making a come back. 

“This is cool.” You complimented.

“Yeah, I like it a lot.” He said as he came up beside you and looked out at the space. “Ummm, can I get you something to drink? Or a snack if you’re hungry? I have…watermelon.” He said and you smiled.

“No thanks, I’m alright.” You assured him and he nodded and just looked over you for a few more moments. It made you feel all tingly so you cleared your throat and he looked down at the ground.

“Ummm so let’s just…we can sit over here and talk.” He said signaling towards the living room and you nodded and followed him down the small set of steps leading down to the couches. “Feel free to get comfy wherever.”

“Thanks.” You said as you headed towards one of the corners of the large sectional and slipped off your shoes before you nestled in, legs criss-crossed over each other as you pulled a pillow into your lap. Harry settled in near you, one of his legs tucked under him and the other hanging off of the couch. He looked a bit pensive, not entirely sure how or where to start and you were getting a little impatient.

“So you…missed me.” You said simply and he glanced into you eyes and nodded.

“Yeah, I have been for…a while.” He confirmed and you sighed.

“I have too…a little bit.” You admitted as you looked down into your lap and he smiled.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we did spend a lot of time together so…”

“Yeah, true.” You sighed.

“So ummm, what I was saying before…” he started and you nodded, “I didn’t go about things the right way with you. I could’ve been…”

“Less of a dick?” You interjected and he smiled down at his lap, when he looked up at you, you were already smiling.

“I was going to say nicer about it but same thing, I guess.” He chuckled and you did as well. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and while my reasons for it were really valid, I think, it doesn’t mean that I handled it well and I…regret hurting your feelings. I’m sorry.” He said and you hummed.

“Thank you. I just…was -er still am a bit confused about that because, I mean, I told you that I’d never done something like this before and I don’t know…I guess I was just expecting you to be a little bit more understanding or even just compassionate with me about the whole thing, you know?” You explained and he nodded.

“I wish I had been. I really do.” He said with a small frown. “I can explain actually.” He said and you nodded, “And this is not an excuse at all, it’s just that, an explanation.” He added and you nodded again, “When I kissed you I…I realized how much I was starting to like you and it scared me.” He explained, “And it took me back to what I’d been through before and I didn’t want that again, not for me, but especially not for you.” He explained, “So I decided that I wasn’t going to allow my feelings for you to grow any more or go any further than that.” He said and your gaze on him softened, “And well, i-it worked well enough for a bit. It was easier when we were working to remind myself that it was for the best. And then we fought and you told me you didn’t like me anymore and I felt like shit but I was also glad because you deserved better than that.” He said with a frown. “But when we went our own ways it got worse…not worse, you know what I mean.” He said nervously, “I just thought about you all the time- er I have been thinking about you this whole time. Just wondering i-if you think about me too sometimes…I mean, I know that you don’t feel that way about me any more but-”

“I do.” You cut in and he looked surprised.

“After all of that?” He asked softly and you nodded.

“You more than made up for it on the press tour.” You assured him, “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or upset you so I buried it all but I still like you. I mean, how could I not?” You chuckled and he smiled at you. “And I’m sorry for the way I said I didn’t, I wanted to make you upset.” You explained.

“Well it worked.” He chuckled and you smiled sadly. “I kind of deserved it though.” He said, “You didn’t ummm…see that guy again did you?” He asked and you smiled.

“I didn’t.” You confirmed and he smiled down at his lap.

“Good.” He mumbled lowly and you just smiled to yourself for a moment, “I really like you, Y/N.” He finally said as his gaze met your own. “And i-if you still like me too then maybe we can try and go an actual date.” He said with hope and you nodded.

“I’d like that.” You agreed and he smiled wider.

“Okay, that’s…that’s good to hear.” He chuckled nervously, “So tomorrow d-do you want to go out and do something with me? I’ve got something in mind.”

“Why not tonight?” You asked with a small pout and he chuckled.

“Because I’d like to make it at least a little bit nice.” He added and you smiled.

“Oh okay, then. That’s fine with me!” You giggled and he chuckled. “I brought my bathing suit so maybe we can go for a swim and have dinner instead, like we planned for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He agreed easily and you both got changed and then got into the pool where you caught up on how the last few months had been treating you both so far. 

Then, you had dinner and watched a film and he reached for your hand while you guys watched. You’d held hands before but now you at least knew it was out of a desire to and not obligation it made the butterflies in your stomach swarm at ungodly rates. As the night wrapped up he walked you out to your car, like the sweet man you knew him to be but it was hard to leave. You guys lingered there, finding random little things to talk about to prevent saying goodbye.

“Thank you for hearing me out, by the way.” He said to you after another small moment of silence and you smiled up at him as you leaned on your car and smiled at him. “You didn’t have to after everything.”

“Of course. I’m really glad you reached out to me.” You assured him and he nodded and pulled you in for a hug for maybe the third time now and you nestled into him and sighed, “I really missed you too.” You hummed softly and he pulled back a little bit, enough to be able to look into your eyes again. Neither of you wanted to let go more than that.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You said instantly, “Please.” You chuckled and he did as well as he angled up your face gently by your jaw until he was dipping down enough to smoosh his lips against yours. 

He was tentative, he didn’t want to kiss you too hard and hungrily for the first time since the time he’d mucked it up. He wanted you to feel how much he missed you and that despite his previous disrespects, that he in fact did respect you and your time and openness towards him. His fingers skimming along your jaw caused your skin to rise with goosebumps and for a delicious shiver to zing throughout your body. You wanted to lose your cool and just let things get fiery with the tension that simmered between you but he was being so patient himself that it staved off your desperation. You wanted to enjoy how soft and tender he was being right now. You liked how his feelings were emanating from him in intense waves and warming you from the inside out. Finally, he pulled away, it was painful and almost impossible to let him end the kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He whispered between the two of you and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll pick you up around 7.” He informed and you nodded.

“Okay.” You whispered and he pulled you off to the side before opening your car door, “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He smiled and you bit your lip for a moment.

“One for the road?” You asked timidly and he grinned grabbed your face before pecking your lips once more.

“There you are. Now leave while I have the self-control to let you go.” He mumbled between you two and you laughed before settling into your seat and he closed the door behind you. You buckled up and got the engine on and he backed up, giving you room to get going and with a final wave you headed home. You weren’t driving fast at all but it felt like you were flying. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as you settled into bed and stared at the dark ceiling you were wearing a huge smile until you fell asleep.

***************

You’d been on edge all day wondering what it was that he would plan for you two. When you texted to ask what you should wear he said he was going for a semi-casual look, button down with a vest and trousers sort of thing so you decided on going for a similar vibe. You spent hours trying on a variety of combinations and in the end you settled on a black mini skirt with a creme colored, sleeveless knit top. You searched around for your chunky loafers and decided those paired best with the outfit as well. You had blown out your hair that morning so you got it into rollers and threw on a shower cap before you got in and exfoliated your body religiously. You knew your wax girl would kill you, but you ran a razor over your legs to get rid of the slightly prickly layer of hair growing in. You moisturized efficiently and then spritz yourself   with your current preferred fragrance, Brit for Her by Burberry. 

You had taken a fondness to the scent recently because it reminded you of him. Not that he even smelled like that but just vibe of it made you think of who he was. The prominent or top notes were sweet and fruity. They were bright and intriguing but not overpowering like some fruity perfumes could be. These blended so well with the warmer, darker base notes of  vanilla, amber, and mahogany. It created an alluring and irresistible blend of fragrances that seemed to perfectly encompass the feeling he gave you of comfort and warmth and excitement. You wanted it to linger and be memorable, the way he lingered and was memorable to you. Truly, you had no idea where this with him would go or if it would even work out, but you knew he was the kind of person who would leave a mark on you forever.

When you got his call that he was outside you grabbed you gave yourself one more spritz, grabbed your purse, and got into your shoes before hurrying out. He was waiting outside of the car for you, his smiled widened when you saw you going down the steps.

“You look lovely.” He complimented as you approached and you smiled timidly until you got up to him. 

“Thank you.” You hummed softly and he pulled you in for a hug and he froze for a second when you hugged him back.

“Fuck…you smell so good.” He hummed against you and you smirked victoriously as he squeezed around you a bit more. “Damn.” He mumbled as he dipped down to kiss right under your jaw and inhale the sweet scent. You giggled as his little bit of stubble lightly tickled your skin as he nuzzled closer.

“Stop that…” You laughed as he nipped at your skin.

“I can’t.” He huffed before kissing up to your lips and pecking over them a few times and pulling away with his lip bitten beneath his teeth.

“Please take me on a date.” You said softly and he smiled.

“Yeah alright.” He agreed with a grin and you giggled as he opened up the door for you. You greeted your driver and settled in as he hurried over to his side and soon enough you were on the road.

“So where are we going?” You asked as your fingers fiddled together and he smiled.

“You’ll see…” he said smugly and you chuckled. You both hummed along to the radio as you tried to figure out where it was you were heading but you seemed to be going in almost a circle as you started heading back towards where your house was. Then you guys turned down a street and you immediate recognized the area and saw the wine bar you guys had been to before just down the way.

“Are we going back to the wine bar?” You asked him and he immediately smiled as you started to slow down before it.

“I desperately need a do over.” He said to you and you smiled, “Things should’ve gone a lot differently than they did that night. So we’re doing it again, correctly this time.” He said with a smile as the car stopped at the valet station up front.

“You’re too sweet.” You said softly and he smiled. 

You were soon helped out of the car by the attendant as Harry met you on the sidewalk and you thanked the driver and valet before looping your arms together and heading inside. He gave his name to the young lady at the entrance and she kept her cool as she guided you on back to where you sat the last time you were there. Of course, people were looking but he didn’t seem to mind and soon you were tucked into the back of the bar, mostly covered from everyone’s curious gazes and just smiling at each other across the small table. You guys ordered your first glass and then got to playing Jenga; this one had questions pasted onto the sides of the blocks so you guys went through the tower, giving your responses and discussing these until you toppled it over. You couldn’t help it, your hands were shaky with nerves but also with excitement. He looked so handsome, it was almost painful not to look at him. Soon enough, two glasses turned to four, and you were both giggly and reminiscing your filming days fondly. He had been telling a story about a little mishap he had with one of the modesty garments for one of his scenes with another actress and you two were laughing so hard.

“Wait, wait, wait, I need to go to the bathroom so bad!” You laughed breathily and he chuckled as he let your hand go over the top of the table.

“Yeah, love you go on. Do you want me to order you another?” He asked and you nodded as you hopped down from the high stool.

“Please.” you confirmed as you came around. You were half expecting it when he pulled you in by the waist and nuzzled against your neck again.

  “You were too far away.” He hummed as he nipped under your jaw for a second as his big, warm palm nearly caressed down your bottom and you smiled.

“Behave.” You reprimanded playfully and he pulled back to meet your eyes.

“I am.” He assured you and you smiled. “Now go.”

“That requires letting me go.”

“I know…” he said and released you with some reluctance. He watched as you walked off, hips swaying hypnotically as you headed off. 

Yeah, you needed to use the bathroom but you also needed a break from the intensity of Harry’s gaze on you. It was intense before, but now that you knew he was also into you it felt overwhelming. This entire time he found a way to graze his fingertips against yours, to knock his foot into yours, to make you aware of the minimal space between the two of you as much as possible. As if you needed a reminder of how badly you wanted him in the first place. The more you drank the deeper his voice got and the more intense the tingles got when he spoke to you, you swore you felt the vibrations of his low drawn baritone at your core, rippling out to the rest of your body with each word. Lust didn’t begin to cover what you felt for him. Even as you sat there for a moment relieving yourself you could hear some other ladies in the bathroom talking about just how good he looked tonight and how demanding and intense his energy was. How it was practically impossible not to feel him in the space. When you opened up the stall door the girls talking about it froze and watched you for a second.

“You’re not wrong.” You said to them with a small smile and they looked relieved at how relaxed you were towards them. “Please don’t tell anyone that. I just needed to get it off my chest.” You chuckled bashfully as you washed your hands.

“No girl, your secret is safe with us.” One of them assured with a kind smile.

“You guys kissed in that movie a bunch of times, how are you still alive?” One of them asked and you chuckled.

“It was hard for sure…” you confirmed, “What was worse was how sweet he is…It makes it so hard not to take it to heart.” You explained and they hummed. 

“You look so cute by the way. Could we get a picture?” One of them asked and you smiled.

“Ummm sure!” You giggled and they hurried over. The first pic was a failure, you all laughed at your half closed eyes, “Sorry, I’m so fucking tipsy!” You giggled and on the third try you managed to keep your eyes open wide enough to appear normal.

“I wish we could get one with Harry too.” One of the girls said.

“Well, if you guys leave at the same time as we do I can try and talk him into it.” You offered and they gushed and thanked you and assured you they’d keep an eye out for this. 

They were so sweet to you, assuring you that you looked exquisite and giving you the confidence boost you really needed to flirt up a storm with Harry. He’d been so attentive and you’d been quite cool about it, but you were ready to reciprocate and show him just how much you wanted him too. When you made your way out of the bathroom it was with a new found confidence thanks to your bathroom besties. You were walking a little taller and with a little more sway as you headed back to your table. 

As you made it back to your secluded little section you saw that Harry had settled into the stool beside yours. He was initially looking at the drinks menu but then he glanced up and right into your eyes, almost as if he sensed you coming. When your eyes met you just about melted. You finally understood that famous and hunger-inducing line form Bridgerton - “I burn for you.” You were feeling it in real time. The energy between you two, the longing of his gaze and how it followed the curves of your body, taking you in from head to toe. You loved how you could see his restraint as you approached your table once again. You felt scrutinized but in a good way. You felt desirable, you felt like the perfect and delicate thing you’d always wanted to be in someone’s gaze. He made you feel like you were worth all the effort and more and you loved that. You knew you could be a little intense and rough around the edges at times but he clearly liked that. He found it amusing and endearing. He loved having something to fight for. He enjoyed proving to you why he was worth your time and effort.

“What?” you asked as you reached your seat and he shook his head.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful.” He hummed lowly as you settled into your seat. You smiled and then glanced up to him.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so, love. Convincing myself otherwise was absolute torture.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile and all of the feelings you had for him boiling inside of you. He shook his head and glanced down at his hands timidly. “Don’t do that…”

“Why not?” You pressed and he looked at you again.

“I don’t think I can handle it all.” He explained with a pained look in his eyes and you hummed softly. “You already smell so divine that I want to be close in enough to breathe you in. But you biting on your lip like that makes me want to bite it for you and suck it between my own. I know you’d taste so sweet because you like chewing that bubble mint gum.” He said to you lowly and you nodded almost dumbly as your gazes remained locked on each others.

“What if we call it a night a little early?” You asked him quietly and he smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded and shivered when one of his hands landed on your thigh, right over your knee. 

“Text the driver.” You instructed and he nodded and pulled out his phone as you reached for your glass of wine. You chugged it down quickly as he texted the man, it was amusing to him how desperate you were to get out of there.

“D’you wanna stop for dumpli-”

“No.” You cut him off and he grinned before reaching for his own glass.

“I kind of don’t want to be anymore buzzed for you but-”

“It’ll feel nicer.” You said with a smile and he hummed.

“It would…” He agreed, his own smile ghosting along his lips.

“I’m still good though, are you?”

“Yeah, love.”

“Then, who cares?” You asked.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” You assured him.

“I want you so fucking bad. That’s what were talking about, right?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.” You confirmed and he flashed you that charming, dimpled boyish grin that you’d missed so much.

“Okay. As long as you really don’t mind-”

“I don’t. I promise you. Just want to be alone with you.” You assured him and he hummed and finished his glass. “I ummm ran to some girls in the bathroom, they were so sweet to me, they were fans and I told them if they walked out behind us you could take a picture with them outside. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, love.” He assured and you smiled. Moments later the driver was informing you he was pulling up and you started to head out. The girls from the bathroom followed, as you instructed, and they got their photo before you guys slipped into the SUV smoothly and headed off into the night.

You were tingling with his hand running up and down your leg, his fingers danced along your skin. His nose was buried against your neck, kissing you up and down as he inhaled the sweet scent lingering on your skin and in your hair. He was whispering to you how much he missed you and how he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time in reaching out. His fingers were burning into your skin as he slid them up your thigh to a dangerous degree until you gripped around his wrist and smirked at him knowingly. 

“What?” He whispered huskily, his eyes already dark and hazy with need.

“You know what…” you hummed lowly and he grinned.

“Sorry, I am trying to behave.” He assured you and then planted a kiss on your temple and lowered his hand to above your knee again. As much as you were asking him to stop, a part of you enjoyed how he pushed the limits a little bit. He clearly was dying to touch you and you were absolutely touch starved. Even just having him rubbing over your knee was causing your skin to rise with goosebumps. You couldn’t arrive at your place any sooner.

When you were finally heading up your driveway you were about ready to burst at the seems. You could feel how wet you were for him, it was even dripping down between your cheeks and you knew he’d love to discover that on his own so you kept it to yourself. Once you got out of the car and thanked the driver, he took off and you keyed your way into your home. As soon as the door closed behind you he pressed you up against it and locked eyes with you.

“This is where I need the do over.” He mumbled, lips tickling your own.

“Tell me more…” You whispered and he smiled and gabbed your jaw with his right hand while he grabbed your hip with his left and he leaned in and kissed you quickly, like he had that first time and his eyes met yours with a fake apologetic look in them, it was amusing really.

“Shit.” He whispered between you two; just like he had the first time, “That was a mistake.” He hummed as he looked into your eyes and you smiled as you decided to play along and role play it with him.

“Then why did you do it?” You asked and he bit his lip, nose skimming your nose with his again.

“I can’t help it. I like you. I like you so fucking much, Y/N.” He confessed softly.

“Then do it again. Like you mean it this time.” You requested. Before you knew it he grabbed your face and kissed your deeply. The hunger of it was making you weak in the knees. Your tongues tangled as you guided his hands down your waist, hips, and finally to the bottom of your skirt.

“Yeah? Can I?”

“Please.” You insisted and he slid them up under the fabric to feel your underwear-covered butt. He kneaded your cheeks in his big, warm palms, squeezing the fleshy bits fervently and feeling you up, pressing you up against his growing erection.

“I want you. I want you so fucking bad.” He breathed into your mouth.

“Me too.” You panted as you looped your arms around his neck, “Should we go up to my room?”

“Are you sure?” He asked once more through his ragged breaths. You kissed his slowly and nodded into it.

“I’m so fucking sure.” You confirmed breathlessly and he kissed you deeply again before you guided him up the stairs and into your bedroom. You threw the door back and you two immediately started undressing.

You didn’t care to make it all that romantic, especially with how tipsy you both were, you guys just wanted to feel each other. So as soon as you were naked you guys fell into your bed and he kissed from your lips down your body. He didn’t waste an opportunity to inhale your perfume before sinking down to your breasts and sucking at your needy nipples while his fingers rubbed precise little circles into your throbbing little clit with no preamble. You were grateful he got straight to it because you were desperate for any stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet f’me, baby.” He hummed before nipping at your sensitive nipple once more and you whimpered, “Is that how bad you want me?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes, I want you so bad!” You whined as he pulled and sucked at your breasts with more force. You winced and whined as he sucked marks into the tender flesh of them to his satisfaction and your own. Before long you started to feel that familiar warmth swirling in the put of your stomach from his fingers on your clit. “Yeah H, just like that!” You cried into the air as he swirled around the sensitive little button over and over until your vision started to blur with your approaching orgasm. 

His lips kissed down your abdomen and finally he ended up between your legs and licked at you expertly and you mewled in satisfaction. His tongue replaced his fingers and flicked at your needy little bud while one of his fingers plunged into the depths of you, searching around for your spot. When your legs startled to tremble around his head, attempting to lock him in place  he knew you were close. And just seconds later he pulled an orgasm from you with ease and snuck in another finger in, this caused you to gasp and tense up before you just melted into your bed. He was just hitting the perfect spot with his fingertips, rubbing into a part of you that was making your pussy flutter in a way it never had before and you felt another orgasm unexpectedly building up.

“Yes! Yes, baby! I-I’m coming!” You gasped and he moaned into your pussy as he tarted to suck on your clit and you began to whither around his thick, lock digits. You were covered in goosebumps as the pleasure started to roll through your body in wonderfully timed waves that allowed you to enjoy his persistent stimulation into your greedy little cunt. Even this wasn’t enough. You were trembling but begging for more. “Please, I need you. I need more.” You panted in your impaired state.

“Don’t have a condom, love.” He chuckled against your smooth and sticky folds.

“Just pull out.” You panted as you raked your fingers into his hair and he groaned against you.

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He chuckled and you bit your lip and tugged him up by the hair until his eyes met yours.

“I’m serious.” You assured him as you swallowed thickly, “Please baby, need you to fuck me. Need you to fuck me so good I forget everything except you.” You panted and he licked over his lips with a near pained expression.

“ Baby-”

“Please, H. Please, give it t’me. Want you so badly, it hurts, that’s how bad I need you.” You begged and he groaned as he caved to your request with a deep and sloppy kiss. You knew he was painfully hard as well. As much as you wanted a taste of him, you’d much rather feel his big, thick cock spreading you open and splitting you apart.

“Y’sure?” He panted as he hovered above you.

“I’m so sure, baby. So sure.” You assured him as he glanced up at you and before you knew it he was kneeling over you as you helped him out of his boxer-briefs, wrapping his thick length in your palm the moment it fell out of its constraint.

“Shit, a little tighter.” He mumbled and you tightened your grip around him and stroked him over and over, up and down, keeping him at full mast. “That’s it. Jus’like that.” He sighed in relief. You could feel the sticky texture of his precome when you’d reach the tip and drag it down his length. After a few moment of this he lowered his hips and settled against your hot and drenched folds, immediately the wet squelching sounds of him sliding through your labia became the most prominent sound between you two. “So fucking wet f’me. Shit, you want my cock so bad, don’t you?” He panted and you nodded and whined, “Say it. Say you want my cock in that pretty little pussy and I’ll fuck you with it. Stretch open that tight little hole, make it all mine.” He breathed into the minimal space between you two.

“Please, H.” You panted, “I need your cock. Need to feel you spreading my tight little hole open.” You pleaded, tearful eyes meeting his and he groaned and leaned down, squeezing  his eyes shut as he kissed you for a few seconds before he guided himself down to your entrance and fed the tip into your weepy little hold. “Oh fuck!” You gasped softly as he started to push in and he moaned as he felt you start to stretch around him.

“You can take it. I know you can, baby.” He panted as his eyes met your wide eyes again. You nodded in confirmation for him to keep going and he pushed in further, splitting you open until your eyes just fluttered shut until he was bottoming out and sheathed fully in the warmth of your wet and velvety walls.

You swore his tip was poking into your stomach from how deep he was. You’d never felt so full before, you were paralyzed for a few moments. He was big and thick, you swore it wiped out part of your brain when he started to grind into you. The thick, ruddy tip of his cock was prodding into your g-spot, causing your mind to blank and for your body to shiver with an abundance of pleasure. You were getting more drunk on his dick and even the way he was grinning down at you as you let out the most obscene moans was feeding your pleasure.

“Shit, you take it so well…fuck, love to see that tight little hole stretching wide around my cock, baby. Y’feel so fucking good…so fucking tight and wet f’me.” He groaned as he thrusted in and out, watching your little hole puckering around his thick cock. He moaned every time he pulled back, watching your creamy arousal streaking down his shaft with each deep plunge into your needy little pussy. He moaned and spat against your folds before rubbing his thumb into your clit and you shuddered.

“Yes, baby! That’s it!” You mewled as you grabbed your breasts, pinching at your nipples, helping him draw you up the edge of your orgasm. Harry was panting, feeling his balls thwacking against your ass had his mind going fuzzy with excitement. 

“Fuck…fuuuuck, you’re gonna make me come so fucking hard!” He chuckled breathily, head thrown back as he delivered sharp and powerful thrusts into you, over and over, living for the feeling of his tip colliding into the depths of you.

“Oh fuck…fuck! I’m…ohmygodI’mcoming!” You slurred and he smiled as you started to whither beautifully. Your back arched up, nipples pointed straight towards the ceiling as you trembled and soaked his cock with a soft squirt from how deep he was getting. Your ears were ringing and you were seeing white behind your closed eyelids but he wasn’t letting up until you got through the whole thing. You could hear him moaning and struggling to keep it together as he thrust in and out of you. Your walls pulsed around his cock hard and fast with your slick coated all over his thick length, causing him to lose some control over his movements. You were covered in goosebumps, shivering as you continued to come hard around him.

“Shit, baby! Shit!” He gasped as he started thrusting erratically, losing the steady rhythm he had maintained until now.

“Come for me, H. Come for me, baby.” You encouraged him and he pulled out quickly and you wrapped your hand around his length and he thrust into your perfectly tight grip a few times until his breath hitched and he groaned when you felt the first spurt of his hot, milky cum right over your pubic bone. He moaned lowly as he started to unload all over your already sticky pussy. You guided him between your swollen and sensitive folds, letting him thrust against you as he spilled all over your swollen pussy with his cum. His body was trembling as you rubbed at his bicep until he minimized the space between you and caught your lips with his. “Mmm…fuck…” he hummed and you smiled

“Good?”

“So fucking good.” He panted breathily and you pecked his lips quickly. “Was it good for you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, H. More than.” You assured and he smiled before kissing you again.

“Good, love.” He whispered before resting his weight on one elbow before kissing you deep and slow. He took his time tasting you properly and only pulled away when you both needed to breathe, “Jut as things should’ve been from the start.” He hummed and you kissed his lips quickly.

“We’re here now, yeah?” You asked quietly and he smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So, does this mean we can give us a real chance?” He asked as his fingers found yours and you nodded and smiled as he bought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I’d love that, Harry.” You assured him and he smiled brightly at you.

“Thank you for giving me another chance after the stunt I pulled before.” He said more seriously.

“I like you too much not to.” You said with a small smile and he smiled and kissed you once more. 

“Well I assure you, there’s far more making up I plan on doing…” He smirked and you bit your lip excitedly, “Just you wait.”

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[hellfirenacht]

C'mon, It's Just One Night (Part 2)

Summary: After getting a fake love note in your locker, you ask Eddie to help you mess up some bullies plans. 

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, smut later, fem reader, reader wears a dress at one point, mentions of bullying, actual bullying, three-shot

Master List

3.8k Words

Part 1

You and Eddie didn’t talk about the plan again until the night of Homecoming. Most of the chats you had about what was going to happen tonight was about the secret show that Corroded Coffin was going to do right after the dance. 

Honestly, you had heard a few kids quietly whispering about the show, which surprised you. You wondered how many people were interested in the music versus wanting to see the Freak and his band play. After all, Corroded Coffin only really played The Hideout on Tuesdays, which wasn’t exactly the best time slot for high schoolers. 

It was about a half hour before the dance was supposed to start, and you had spent the whole day distracted. You kept reading that stupid note over and over again, and anyone watching you would think that you were just excited about a secret date. The truth was that you hoped that the note would somehow give you any sort of clue about what was planned for you when you made your way into the gym that night. 

You’d convinced the rest of Hellfire to try and gather any information on what was going to happen, but no one came back with any information. Even Lucas, who was a jock, couldn’t get any information from anyone. 

Maybe this would be a Carrie situation. 

Having telekinetic powers could be cool though. 

You stared hard at the brush on your desk that night, trying to make it move with your mind. Nothing happened. 

It might not have moved because as you were glaring at your brush, a knock came at your bedroom door. It was your mom, wanting you to come outside and take photos of you in your outfit. And yeah, you were a little excited to do that after all the work that you had put into looking this nice for a fifteen minute bit. It wouldn’t hurt to have proof that you looked good tonight.

You stood up and smoothed out your dress before walking outside into the front yard as your mom called out that she’d be out there in a second as she grabbed the camera.

You didn’t expect anyone else to be outside, but when you stepped out the door you were greeted with the sight of someone standing on the porch.

It was Eddie.

Eddie Munson. 

His hair was freshly washed and his waves were framing his face perfectly. His leather jacket had been discarded for the night and he was wearing a dark gray button-up shirt that looked almost black with the top two buttons undone. The closest you’d ever seen him wear a button up were a few flannels that he wore in the fall and winter. His jeans looked... they looked new. New and dark blue with no holes in them to be seen. The only pieces of his outfit that you recognized were his rings and his reeboks. The twilight had cast a near purple haze over your neighborhood, and Eddie... Eddie looked good in that fading light. 

“Holy shit.” You said, after staring at him like an idiot for a moment. “Who are you and what have you done with Eddie?”

“Ha Ha.” Eddie fake laughed. “I could say the same about you.” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm, unsure if that was a compliment or not. “I... You look good.” you said more genuinely. 

This caused Eddie to shift slightly on his feet. “You look better.”

You could have died on the spot. 

“Wait, what are you doing here?” you asked. “I thought we were meeting up at the school?” 

“You’re coming to the show with me after this anyway.” Eddie explained. “It’d be easier if I just drove both of us. We can still pretend that we didn’t meet up, I can drop you off at the school where no one will see us together and I’ll follow you inside after a few minutes.”

That made sense, you were going to be helping out with set up after the dance anyway. 

“You might have made a mistake coming out here to pick me up, you know.” you said. “My mom will be out here in about two minutes and if she sees you, she’s going to make us take cheesy photos together.”

“I can humor your mom for a few minutes for this.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, I owe her for being such a loyal customer.”

You stared at him. “Eddie... what do you mean by that?”

He gave you that trademark shit-eating grin, the one that he often used during club when he knew he was about to royally piss everyone off. 

“How else do you think I was able to buy new jeans?” he asked, his brown eyes shining in the lingering twilight. 

“Eddie Munson, you motherfucker, do not tell me that you sell drugs to my own mother-” 

Speak of your mother, and she shall appear with a smile and a camera in hand. You were going to have a long talk with Eddie later about boundaries and selling weed to your mother, even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. 

Your mom quickly ushered you to take some solo pictures of you, and Eddie stood behind her watching with amusement as you awkwardly posed in the way you had seen in some teen magazine that you’d browsed when waiting in line at the grocery store. You felt stiff and awkward until Eddie started making faces behind your mom’s back that had you breaking out into a fit of giggles. He was totally going to give you shit for this later, but you knew he’d have his moment in the spotlight in a moment as well. 

Eddie was next up, but somehow he had no problem casually posing and smiling for your mom’s camera. Asshole. 

Then the couple’s pictures came and your mom made it clear exactly how she had wanted you two to pose. Eddie didn’t even hesitate wrapping his arm around your waist and holding your hand. 

For a few moments, you forgot what was supposed to happen that night. In this moment, you could really believe that you were going on a date with your best friend, and that he was holding your hand because he wanted to, not just because he was being forced to because of a favor. Eddie had always been a good actor, and you thought that if he wasn’t such a metal-and-D&D nerd, he could have been great in the theater department. 

Eddie really was a storyteller at heart. In music, in Dungeons and Dragons, in his doodles, the way he played up his Freak persona, and in this moment with his arms settled on your hips and his head on your shoulder. If Eddie wanted to captivate with a story, he could. 

It’s a shame that a story was all this was. 

Once the two of you were finally released from the watchful eye of your moms camera, Eddie led you to his van. He opened the passenger seat door for you, and even helped you into your seat as if he were a real gentleman. You didn’t think anyone had ever done that for you before. 

“So... is there a plan for how we’re going to do this?” you asked. “We haven’t really talked about how this is going to happen.” 

“What time is your secret admirer supposed to show up?” Eddie asked, the sound of his mixtape crackling through the air. 

“7:30.” 

“Then you’ll go in about five minutes early, stand in the middle of the gym, and at 7:30 I’ll burst in, sweep you off your feet, and then we can blow this joint.” Eddie said. 

“I could use a joint.” you sighed, looking out the window as reality came back. You weren’t a princess, and this wasn’t a fairytale. Eddie was only doing this as a favor, nothing more. 

“I’ll let you have one after we set up for the show.” He promised, pulling his van up to behind the school where no one was going to be dropped off for the dance. “I’ll see you inside in five minutes.” 

You gave him a nod. “See you on the other side, Freak.” 

You slipped to the entrance of the gym, and walked towards the booth where you presented your homecoming ticket. Homecoming had started at 7 pm on the dot and most students were already inside, dancing and giggling and having fun. The sound of the latest pop songs were echoing through the halls outside of the gym. The cheerleader running the ticket booth looked you up and down with a giggle.

“I love your outfit! It’s so... unique!” she gave you a smile that was way too wide and you grit your teeth at the false compliment. You shoved that anger down into your gut, and gave your best fake smile back, hoping that you sounded more sincere. 

“Thank you, so much!” Your voice came out a bit higher pitched than anticipated, but the cheerleader didn’t seem to notice. 

“Your Secret Admirer is going to love it.” She continued, and you felt your stomach twist. Shit, the cheerleaders were in on this too? You wondered how many people were in on this. “He asked me to give you this when you got here.”

She handed you a note, in the same sloppy handwriting as before. 

Meet me in the center of the dance floor at 7:30. 

It was 7:26 right now. You were tempted to make the assholes wait, after all, you wanted to make sure Eddie had a chance to get here before they could. But the cheerleader obviously saw you read the note, and there was no time to turn back. 

Just show up for me. Eddie. You thought to yourself. Although this had been your idea, you were feeling nervous now. You really were about to put yourself out on full display to the school, willingly offering yourself up on a plate to your peers for humiliation. What if this didn’t work? What if Eddie didn’t make it in time? What if something worse happened with Eddie here? 

The short walk from the entrance to the middle of the dance floor felt like slow motion. Your mind felt fuzzy and you hoped that you weren’t shaking from nerves. You stood in the center of the dance floor, and turned to face the single clock in the back of the gym. You could barely make out the time with the distance and dim lights, but you knew it was almost time. 

7:27

7:28

You could do this

7:29

Almost time....

7:30

7:31

Where the fuck was Eddie?

7:32

Did he get held up?

7:33

Did he change his mind?

7:34

Fuck, you could hear the giggling.

7:35

You felt a tap on your shoulder. 

This was it. 

You turned around slowly, waiting for the worst. 

Eddie stood before you, corsage in hand, on one knee as if he was proposing to you. 

Maybe this was the real prank. Maybe the real prank was the one you played on yourself to be able to see your best friend kneeling and smiling up at you, offering you a corsage. 

Time froze for a second as you took in the sight and committed it to memory. 

“I’m glad you made it.” Eddie said, loud enough for anyone to hear. He really did have that natural projection that should have had the theater kids begging him to join them. “I knew you’d respond to my note.”

There was a dull murmur of confusion behind you, and you saw Eddie’s eyes flicker to something that you couldn’t see and he gave you a small nod. 

Fuck, that was your cue. 

You brought your hands up to your mouth, acting like all of the actresses you’d seen on tv who’s characters had been proposed to. You began nodding and accepted the corsage, letting him slide it onto your wrist. 

How had he known what color to get to match your dress? 

Eddie stood up and you threw your arms around him. “I was hoping it was you!” you said loudly, no need to act for this part. Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up and spun you around once. He really was deceptively strong, and you giggled as he set you down. Your lips met his cheek. His arms stayed around you. 

Eddie smiled at you in a way that made your cheeks heat up and your knees feel weak. 

You two were staring at each other. 

The music changed. 

Eddie moved one of his hands from around your waist to grab yours, and the two of you were slow dancing before you even fully knew what was happening. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You asked, following his movements. 

“You said you wanted to really sell this that we were together now.” Eddie said, keeping his eyes on you. “I don’t know how many people would believe it if I showed up and we immediately left. It wouldn’t exactly be memorable.” 

“Right, good point.” you agreed. 

“I always have good points, that’s why I’m the dungeon master.” Eddie chuckled, “Besides, it’d be a shame that you put in this much effort to look good for little old me to not show you off. What kind of boyfriend would I be? I have to make sure that I get a reputation for being a mean and scary freak, but also a decent date.”

Boyfriend. 

“Shit.” you said quietly. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brows furrowing with a frown. 

“I didn’t think about what happens after this. You agreed to be my fake date, but I don’t want you to feel trapped with me after this.” you said. “Yeah, this’ll get everyone off my back for now but when school starts again, I don’t want you to feel like you have to act like we’re together.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Eddie said. “It’s not like my dating life is thriving here anyway. Between you and me, I’m a little too old for those who dare try and get with the Freak here.”

You let out a small laugh. “Tired of one night stands with girls who just want bragging rights?” 

“After the third time, I was starting to feel like I was cheating on my right hand.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, erupting into a fit of giggles. This felt right, this relaxed moment with Eddie. This is how it was supposed to feel with someone, right? It was supposed to be easy, and with Eddie it always was. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” you said after your giggles had died down. “I really owe you one.”

“I thought this plan was me owing you one.” Eddie asked. 

“This is honestly above and beyond helping you get a passing grade for a test.” you admitted. “I know you have your show tonight, and you hate doing anything for school. Plus, you showed up wearing this and you spent money on jeans and the corsage- oh, thank you for the corsage-”

“Hey,” Eddie snapped you out of your rambling. “Don’t act like you forced me to do anything. You said I had full creative control tonight. I chose to do all this for you.”

“Why?” you asked, meeting his eyes. “You could have so easily told me to just fuck off and said no.”

“I’ll admit this wasn’t exactly my idea of how this night was going to go.” Eddie said. “But then you said that you wanted the Freak to show up for you. I wanted to know what would happen if it was just Eddie.” 

“Just Eddie...” you said quietly. Not the Freak, not the satanic cult leader, not the dungeon master. Just Eddie, your friend. “I’m glad that just Eddie was the one to show up.” your mouth went dry. “I- ...Eddie I-”

The two of you had stopped moving in slow circles, Eddie was closer than he had ever been to you before. You forgot where you were and Eddie was leaning closer to you, his mouth opening as if he was going to say something. 

And that’s when it happened. 

Whatever it was, it was room temperature, and sticky. It dripped down from your hair, down your face and onto your dress. You looked down to see pools of red flooding below you on the gym floor, and then your head shot up to see Eddie, covered in the same sticky substance with a dumbstruck look on his face. 

Blood? Was that actually blood?! Was Eddie bleeding? Were you? Wait, had someone actually dumped pigs blood on you?

Eddie wiped his face, smearing the substance on his skin and hand and carefully brought it to his face and sniffed it, and then gave it a small lick.

“Corn syrup.” he said and looked at you, his eyes wide in shock. 

“You mean this was a Carrie situation?!” you asked in a loud whisper as the two of you stared at each other. You looked around, and saw the group of jocks laughing and high fiving each other. One of them was holding an old paint bucket. Your body froze, and you couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Those assholes had thrown fake blood on you and Eddie. They won. You fucked up. Eddie did so much for you tonight and you never even considered that the jocks would be smart enough to adjust their plans to account for Eddie being here-

Then Eddie started laughing, like really laughing. It was that genuine laugh that you’d heard a hundred times when the party came up with a stupid plan to get past one of Eddie’s challenges in Hellfire. 

He looked at you, with a spark in his eyes and a grin that was manic. 

His laughter was so contagious, that you found yourself laughing as well. You heard the laughter from the jocks start to die down and turn into mutters of confusion. The whole gym seemed to go silent, and you think the DJ stopped the music but you were laughing too much to care. 

How fucking rediculous was this? It was almost too obvious what they had set up, but you didn’t think they were this unoriginal. How did they even sneak in the bucket? How did no faculty or staff react to this?!

“I guess the Freak is showing up, anyway.” Eddie laughed and looked at you. “Let’s give them the show they want.”

Eddie’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and started pulling you in. Instinct took over and you gripped at his stained shirt and then your lips met. The kiss was met with gasps and oohs and shouts from around you, but you didn’t care. Eddie was kissing you, and you were kissing him back. The two of you must have looked like a spectacle, covered in fake blood and making out with him in the middle of the dance floor after laughing like maniacs.

“Stop that, right now you two!” you heard a teacher yell, and that’s when Eddie pulled back.

“Feel free to kill me for that later, okay?” That wild smile was still on his face. 

“I think we should run now.” you agreed, deciding that whatever had just happened within the last 30 seconds could be processed later. You could see a few teachers starting to finally take action and start to run over, and the jocks were now scattering. Even though you and Eddie were the victims here, you didn’t really feel like sticking around. Whatever would happen with the school, could wait until Monday.

Eddie grabbed your hand, flipped off the few jocks that were still gawking, and the two of you took off running through the exit doors of the gym, the two of you laughing and cackling like mad. 

“Fake blood!” you yelled as the two of you dashed across the parking lot. “They threw fake blood on us!” 

“They actually spent money to get that much corn syrup and dye!” Eddie laughed, opening the door to his van for you again. 

“Shit, it’s gonna get all over your van.” you said, taking your seat anyway and buckling up. 

“That’s the least worrying thing I’ve spilled in here. Don’t worry about it.” He said, hopping into the driver side seat. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t think they had it in them!”

“Eddie, they ruined your new clothes.” You frowned, looking at him. The fake blood was starting to dry to your skin, and you could see it starting to give Eddie’s hair an odd texture in certain areas. 

“They also ruined your dress.” 

“Yeah, but I was never going to wear this again.” you said. 

“And I was going to ruin these clothes anyway.” he shrugged and started the car, peeling out of the parking lot like a bat out of Hell. Eddie’s lead foot hit the gas and the two of you were speeding down the road, out of town towards the quarry. 

“Holy shit.” you said, leaning against the seat as the adrenaline faded. 

“I think that could’ve gone worse.” Eddie said, still smiling. “I think the blood really adds to Corroded Coffin’s whole thing.” 

You shook your head, grabbing some napkins from the floor and wiping your hands off. “Shit, do we owe them a thanks now? Should we send them a fruit basket?” 

“Nah, they’ll get what they deserve. A slap on the wrist for pulling this stunt at a school function.” Eddie glanced at you with a wry grin. 

“Right, why do I feel like they’ll get off easy but somehow we’re gonna be the ones in trouble on Monday?” You rolled your eyes and lowered your voice in a horrible imitation of Principal Higgins. “Yes, those two played a harmless prank by dumping corn syrup on you, but you two displayed unsightly behavior in front of everyone in some sort of Hellish ritual-”

“Ouch. I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser.” 

You stopped talking and suddenly the corn syrup felt sticky and uncomfortable. You still hadn’t been able to digest the fact that the two of you had kissed- no, you two had full on made-out in front of the whole student body. Had there been tongue? You honestly couldn’t remember. 

An awkward silence settled over the two of you and you were unsure of what to say. You wanted to tell him that no, he wasn’t a bad kisser at all. You wanted to be smooth and say something like “Well, I wasn’t really paying attention before, how about we try again?”. You wanted to say anything to indicate that you liked it and very much wanted to do it again. 

Instead the two of you sat in the loudest silence you had ever been in as the two of you drove the long strip down to the quarry. You scolded yourself, thinking that saying anything had to be better than saying nothing. 

And yet no words came out.

This was supposed to be a one shot in April. Now it's a three-shot. Do NOT let me write more than three chapters. The third chapter is almost done. There will be smut.

Divider by @strangergraphics

Tag List: @supernaturalstilinski @wonderlanddreamer @princesssunderworld @kores-mun-son-n-more @munsonfiles

@ladysilence @ghcstpyre @avalon-wolf @huffledor-able541 @sheneedsrocknroll92

@i-trash-about-things

[benedictscanvas]

hey love! im sorry your request box hasnt been what you were looking for but maybe this will work! can i request a ball with benedict bridgerton where feelings are only realized when one of them dances with someone else? i dont really mind if its reader or benedict but i just think it would be cute!! hope you’re doing well <3 <3

hello my lovely. you're the sweetest, thank you so much for such a gorgeous request. I've got a pretty similar fic where Benedict realises his feelings, so I was super excited to do the other way around, I hope you enjoy <3 <3 | 1.5k words, fem!reader

There is a woman in Benedict’s arms and it isn’t you and you think you might throw your lemonade at her. Accidentally, of course.

You don’t know her, and if the reasonable side of your brain was in charge, you’d probably think she looks quite lovely. Her hair is adorned in elaborate braids and her smile is demure but still a little goofy - she isn’t shrouded in the fake humility that she finds so many ladies of the ton carry around with them. 

But still you find yourself fantasising about a large lemonade stain painting the front of her dress, the poor girl hurrying away in her shock and distress.

Away from Benedict. Who’s now laughing. At something the girl has said, no less. Why, you’d never seen him laugh at any lady of the ton who wasn’t either his sister or, once, Lady Danbury.

And yourself, of course, but you didn’t count.

At least, you didn’t think you counted. You didn’t think you wanted to count, content to while away the balls and the promenades by Benedict’s side, sometimes Eloise’s, whispering about so-and-so’s hat or whats-his-name’s hair. He’d never asked you to dance, although you’d never wanted him to before. Now that he was dancing with someone for the first time you could recall, however, you could feel that changing very swiftly.

”You know, looking vexed in the corner isn’t likely to win you many adoring suitors, Miss Y/L/N.”

Eloise always knows just when to get on your nerves and she’s grinning at you slyly when you turn to face her, finally breaking the spell that Benedict and his new dance partner had placed on you.

”Since when have you believed that was my endeavour, dear Eloise?”

”Since you’ve spent the entire night glaring at pretty young Miss Pennyforth. It’s making you look rather jealous, to the untrained eye.”

You turn away from her, fixing your eyes on her brother yet again. They’re not talking anymore, just staring at each other as he twirls her again and again. Maybe it was better when they spoke after all, because now your stomach is twisting into something that does indeed feel a lot like jealousy.

”Yes, well, you know better than to think I’m jealous. Though I do seem to be in a foul mood.”

Eloise nods exaggeratedly, a pretend-sympathetic pout on her lips.

”Yes, you poor thing. And it obviously has nothing to do with the brother of mine that you can’t take your eyes off.”

You pointedly look at her again but she just dissolves into giggles at the look on your face.

”If you have a point, Eloise, I suggest you make it.”

”Oh, no point at all. Only that the one ball where Benedict decides not to stand with you and ruin his prospects all night, you seem to be very dour indeed. With no correlation, of course.”

You glower at her as best you can. You have the irritable feeling crawling out of your stomach through your throat that you might be about to cry, and you refuse to do so here, or to allow Eloise to think it’s her fault if you do.

”You run along and find Penelope or I shall tell your mother there’s a gentleman asking after you.”

She gaped at you, quite genuinely.

”You wouldn’t,” she murmured, but then promptly hurried away when you fixed her with a look that told her you most certainly would. It was a lie, because you could never bring yourself to do that to your friend, but it was a ruse that allowed to slip away from the ballroom.

You cast one last glance over your shoulder at Benedict to see him kissing the back of Miss Penny-something’s hand and your eyes began to sting.

- - -

There was a little bench hidden away to the left of the grand entrance, just dark enough to not be spotted by those near the carriages. You managed to shed a few tears in private, silent silly things, and you wiped them away angrily.

It was only Benedict. Quiet, mischievous, generous Benedict. He was creative and caring and could come up with the most brilliant insults you’d ever heard. Obviously, he also had a beautiful face, but you’d never given it much thought. All the Bridgertons were beautiful, it felt like a requirement.

”Did Lord Tennesby try to talk to you again?”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes with your head bowed. Of course he’d find you. If anyone was likely to be looking for a quiet spot for a moment’s reprieve, it was him.

You wiped at your face in vain before looking up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile. 

“I’d be halfway back home if that was the case. What are you doing out here?”

Why aren’t you with Pennyfuzzy? was the unspoken second question that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to ask, knowing how spiteful it would come out. You wished you had realised you might want more from Benedict in the comfort of your own home, where you could take a week to process those feelings and prepare for how to deal with them.

Instead, you’d just have to see what happened in this conversation and go from there. Sounded promising.

”I was going to ask you the same thing. Have you…been crying?”

”I think it’s the flowers,” you point over at the hyacinths in the nearby flowerbed, “They often get the best of me this time of year.”

”Daphne’s ball last year was filled with hyacinths and you didn’t so much as sniffle.”

You frowned at him.

“I probably sniffled.”

“You didn’t. I would have noticed. I would have offered you a handkerchief like the dashing young gentleman I am.”

It was enough to pull up your frown at the corners, which in turn propelled him to take a seat beside you on the bench. You busied yourself with a crease in your dress when you talked to him.

“Maybe you’re not as dashing as you think.”

“I’m incredibly dashing,” he argued, pointing his chin upwards in that silly, mighty way you always giggled at, “I swept Miss Pennyforth off her feet just moments ago.”

Like an ice cold bucket of water poured right over you. You almost shivered.

“Ah, Miss Pennyforth. Has someone finally captured your wayward attention, Mister Bridgerton?”

You looked up at him and tried not to sniffle or snuffle or anything else that might give you away. He was just looking puzzled.

“What? No, I meant I quite literally swept her off her feet. I got the steps wrong, according to Eloise, who helped me up once she had a hold of her laughter.”

You blinked at him.

“You fell?”

“Into quite the heap. Miss Pennyforth was a good sport about it all but she did end up with a rather unfortunate lemonade stain all down the front of her dress. I think she was a little embarrassed.”

He had the decency to look a little embarrassed himself. There you had been, ready to hurl the contents of your cup at the girl and Benedict had solved your predicament for you. A twinge of guilt tugged at you.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you said honestly, face overtaken by a wry smirk since Benedict had not sat down singing her praises. Still you had to be sure, “She was looking a very good dancer before I left, I was afraid she might steal away my conversation partner.”

It ended up sounding far more transparent in your intentions than you’d hoped. But you held his eye contact defiantly when he grinned.

“I knew you missed me,” he said, smug, “I took one look at your face and I could see it plain as day. Really, you should have hidden it better.”

“I don’t enjoy these events and you know it, Benedict.”

Back to his first name and by the light in his eyes, he’d noticed the switch. He stood up and held out his arm for you.

“I know. I’m very grateful for it. Now come along, I’ve done my duty to my mother dancing with that girl and now I would like to do my duty to myself.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, not moving a muscle.

“I would like to make fun of the Featheringtons with my most cherished friend. Would you do me the honour?”

Something skipped inside your chest. Light and airy again, no longer weighed down and chained to something churning your stomach. His most cherished friend. Despite the evening’s revelations, that sounded heavenly.

“Is Eloise inside waiting for you then?” you can’t help but tease and he promptly puts his arm back by his side with a huff.

“You are intolerable. I’m going without you.”

“No - wait!” you laughed, following after him gleefully as he turned away from you and started walking. You managed to catch him on the stairs, threading your hand into the crook of his elbow with ease as you did.

The smile he sent you would take at least the next week to contemplate but you had time. You could be a very brilliant 'most cherished friend' for now.

(and you were far more cherished than you knew, of course, but he wasn't quite ready to tell you yet)

---

if you'd like to request something of your own, please see this post for characters I write for and two super brief guidelines. thank you for reading, sunflower <3