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moonchildstyles · 6 months

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hemlock

oleander part two: sneaking away to see harry, y/n learned more than she bargained for

wordcount: 16.7k+

—————

The blunt of (Y/N)'s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, holding back the lingering smile that wanted to curl her features. More than once, she peeked through her lashes to the darkly dressed figure sauntering through the apothecary.

True to his word the last time they had met, Harry returned to the apothecary sooner than usual. It had only been a pair of weeks since she had seen him previous when she was being carted away from his castle. He had been on her mind since, hoping he wouldn't wait the usual two months before she would see him perusing the shelves once more.

The second that she had seen him step over the threshold of the front door, her heart fluttered through her chest in a rattling beat. A lopsided curl made a home on his own features, but they both stayed quiet.

They both knew they couldn't exactly boast about their clandestine meetings. Their encounters were unspoken secrets that they could now share in fleeting glances and small smiles.

It was seemingly harder than ever to keep her eyes to herself and her feet behind the counter this time. That alluring draw of him had been elevated that much higher now that there was more of that connection forged between. More than once, before falling asleep, she sent herself sweet dreams with the final thought of just how concerned he was, reaching for her when she woke up after the storm.

As if knowing exactly what was on her mind, Harry flicked his gaze over his shoulder to her. She didn't turn away in time, instead allowing her skin to warm when his eyes grazed over her skin.

He was the first to break the contact before he absently reached for a bundle of lavender sprigs and started towards the counter. They both knew he didn't really need anything new, but shopping for more was the perfect excuse to share space once more.

"Did you find all that you were looking for, sir?" she asked, repeating the same script she had always given him when he dropped his purchase on the counter.

"I did, thank you," he smiled, canting his head as he watched her take her time checking him out, "The weather has been rather intense lately, don't you think?"

She had her head down as he spoke, though she didn't mask the smile that bloomed across her features. She knew what he was getting at. "Definitely. The storms have been unlike the previous years. I had a bit of trouble a few weeks ago during one of the thunderstorms, but I'm doing much better now."

"Good. I am happy to hear that," he drawled, his voice thick like the velvet she remembered glazing over her skin when she woke up in his castle. "I hope the weather stays stable for a little while longer, as I'm planning on throwing a dinner party in the coming weeks."

(Y/N) perked up, her meandering fingers slowing. "Really? A dinner party?"

"Yes," he cemented, linking his dark eyes with hers in unwavering contact, "I am planning on it being an intimate affair, only a few in attendance. I do not have the specifics planned out yet, but invitations will be sent out in the coming weeks."

She really hoped she was picking up on the correct message he was passing along, and it wasn't just her dreamy heart that told her that she would be one of the few receiving an invitation. Her lungs squeezed at the thought of rejoining him at the castle, even if it included the prying eyes of others.

Collecting herself, she passed back the lavender bundle. "I am sure it will be wonderful, sir. I can't imagine you would plan anything less than flawless."

"We will have to see," he started, dropping coins on the counter without having to be told the price, "I expect it to be perfect as long as the right guests show up."

Another meaningful glance was shared between them. A slight quirk appeared on his lips.

"Until next time, (Y/N)."

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, she swore she felt her skin warm despite the low temperature of the shop. "Until next time, sir."

Using the window beside the counter, (Y/N) watched him head straight towards a midnight carriage drawn by bone-white horses. Pulling over the cobblestone, the coach headed straight back towards the castle, no other stops made.

—————

The rickety stool under (Y/N)'s feet wobbled some as she stretched to the tips of her toes. Her breath was stuck in her throat each time she felt that small stool creak under her feet. No matter the dropping of her stomach every time her stability tottered, she kept up her task of hanging the herbs from the lines criss-crossing through the apothecary.

Just as she took another twined bundle of lavender from her basket, intending to add it to the row that needed a few more days of drying before being added to the shelves, a knock sounded on the front door of the apothecary. The sound took her by surprise, her balance waning with her hand over her head and toes stretched in her boots.

The door was unlocked, right? The shop had been open for hours; there was no reason to give a knock to the door.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) carefully climbed down from the stool. Looking towards the door, she saw an unfamiliar, pale face looking through the glass. The sight had a zip of fear going up her spine, her hand fluttering up to rest on her throat. The man on the other side of the door didn't have any reaction to her fright, his features set in expressionless stone.

While she didn't recognize this man, there were small details that she could also see in Harry. This man had pale skin, and dark eyes. He looked to be impossibly still, stuck in a moment in time.

He could clearly see her through the glass, a surefire sign that the shop was well open and ready for customers. Still, he stayed out in the late morning dew, patiently waiting for her.

While there was no way he hadn't caught her reaction, (Y/N) still tried her best to school her expression into something pleasant. Moving across the shop, basket of lavender at her hip, she opened the door for her new patron.

"Good morning," she greeted, feeling the touch of frigid morning air grazing her skin, "How may I help you, sir?"

Ignoring her initial question, he only asked, "May I enter?"

Taken aback, she floundered over her response. "Um—I—" she stumbled. She'd never had to invite a customer in while the shop was open. Collecting herself, she bowed her head as she opened the door wide enough for him to make it through, "Yes. Please, come in."

He moved deftly over the floor, barely making a sound on the floorboards. "You are Ms. (Y/N), right?"

Giving a fluttering blink of her eyes, (Y/N) nodded her head. "Yes, I am."

The man silently pulled out an envelope from his jacket before passing it off to her. Cautiously taking it from his grip, she tried not to appear as curious as she felt when she peered down at the elegant letter now in her hands.

On the front, in glimmering, burnished gold lettering was her name scripted in looping font. Just the weight alone was enough to show just how important this correspondence was, as if the hand-delivery wasn't enough to give away as much. Only for the fact she still had an audience, (Y/N) refrained from slipping her finger under the blood red wax seal enclosing the flap.

Instead, she tucked it behind her back before looking up towards the footman.

Only, he was gone.

She just barely caught him on his way out, the length of his dark hair fluttering behind him as the bell above the door tinkled. The sound was decidedly quieter than when she had pushed the door open herself to let him in. She hadn't even heard him cross the space, the floorboards giving nothing away under his footfalls.

There was no chance to say anything to him—thank him for the delivery, ask him who the letter was from, anything at all, really. She was unable to catch even what direction he disappeared in, only knowing that she was now alone.

A grin plucked at her lips at the thought.

(Y/N) didn't waste a second before she was pulling out the letter once more, wanting to open it as soon as possible while she had the privacy.

Allowing her eyes to peruse over the gorgeous stationery, she could see the faint flecks of shimmer in the ink used to spell out her name. The wax seal was a vivid red color, embossed with a bold S wreathed in thorns. Doing her best to keep the wax intact, (Y/N) carefully picked at the edge to flip open the flap. Inside, a folded letter awaited on another piece of rich stationary.

Her breath was stolen as she unfolded the paper, looking over what exactly had been so important to be delivered directly to her hand.

It was an invitation.

The ink was the same burnished gold, accented with filigree style line work across the edges. There was a texture to the page, (Y/N) unable to keep from running the pad of her thumb across the page. It was luxurious—the kind of correspondence she figured nobility would have the privilege of receiving. And, it was addressed to her.

A week from today's date, she was requested to be present at Harry Styles' home for a dinner party in celebration of the turn of the season. The same party he had told her about a week prior.

There was no doubt she would appear mad to any onlooker that dared to peer through the windows into the shop, seeing as how she was grinning down at the letter. She had hoped this was what Harry had been telling to her without actually saying it—that she would be invited to his home for this dinner. Her heart sped up behind her ribs, her breath shorting in her lungs at the idea of rejoining him at his home.

Without permission, a squeal escaped (Y/N)'s lips. She couldn't help herself as she twirled her dress fanning around her ankles, as she pressed the letter to her heart.

There was no doubt she was mad now.

—————

(Y/N) had been riding high all day after her special delivery, only for the comedown to have her face planting into the earth.

There was another body found. Another young woman laid to rest in the woods with her throat ripped out and no blood left in her body.

The village was submerged in shades of blue for the rest of the night, including her father by the time he made it home. He had gone out with others of the town to help carry the woman back to the village in hopes of giving her a proper burial with her family.

He had been practically silent since he scaled the stairs of the apothecary, joining her in the flat above. His energy was hard to ignore, even if her mind continued to wander more than once to the letter she had spent hours memorizing when she had been alone. She had been so excited when receiving the correspondence, but now that giddiness had to live alongside that simpering grief the rest of the village had slipped into.

There was nothing but the sound of cutlery clinking against their chipped flatware, dinner nothing more than a warming stew and the last of the summer vegetables that had been harvested. Her father saw their home through unseeing eyes, as he couldn't seem to focus on one space for too long before he was flitting to the next. (Y/N) matched his silence, keeping to herself in hopes of allowing the night to pass quickly. In the morning, hope would be restored to her neighbors and she wouldn't feel so out of place still feeling excitement for her invitation.

"What is that?"

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) checked back into the unexpected moment. "Pardon?"

Her father's eyes were fixed over her shoulder, towards the kitchen where the leftovers of the stew were simmering on the tiny stove implanted in the space. "What is that?"

Twisting in her seat, she tried to follow his gaze. "There are some leftovers if that is what you are wondering—"

"No," he cut her off, pushing his chair away from the table before stalking towards the kitchen.

At the last moment, she realized what exactly had caught his attention.

During the hours she had been left alone while he aided the village in bringing the young woman in the woods home, she had read and reread and reread the invitation as many times as she could. She admired the gilded writing, the exquisite seal, and every luxurious detail. She had left it out on the counter while she cooked, leaving it in arm's reach.

That was where it still sat.

That was where her father was headed.

For the first time, she felt fortunate for her father's aching joints and the long hours he had been on his feet—even before the trip to the forest. He was moving slow enough for her to jump up and cut him off, as if she were joining him in finding whatever he had fixed his attention on.

"This?" she asked, plucking up another piece of mail that the Wayfields had sent along with Margret the day previous. "It is only a recipe from Mrs. Wayfield—for her potato soup and the bread with the bubbles she's so skilled at making."

She waved the envelope for her father to see, though it was decidedly less ornate than that of the one she was currently hiding behind her back. If she could, she would have crossed her fingers in hopes of him falling for her ruse.

He blinked as he took in what she was trying to pass off as the same piece of mail that had the wax seal and glimmering writing. "There was another letter, (Y/N). Where is it?"

Her palms began to sweat. Her father would not be happy to know she had been requested by the Count, especially not on a day like today when he had undoubtedly spent plenty of time with those who accused Harry of being a monster.

"I do not—"

"What are you hiding behind your back?"

"Nothing." Her response came too quickly. Her father's eyes narrowed.

"(Y/N)."

"It is really nothing," (Y/N) tired again, digging up any kind of excuse she could, "I was doing inventory for downstairs, and—"

"(Y/N)," he said once more, his voice edging into something sharp and steely. Now wasn't the time, he was telling her. "Let me see."

She only swallowed, keeping her hand stuck behind her back.

Everything happened in a vacuum then. Time was ticking with her heartbeats while staying still in the middle of the kitchen. It didn't take much for her father to reach around and grab the letter, ripping it out of her hands before she could even tighten her grip.

There was panic sifting through her veins as she saw him look over the letter, the flap roughly pulled open with the letter folded open with careless fingers. She took quick strides towards him, intending to pull the stationary right out of his hands, to keep him from damaging the page any more or looking over the invitation. There was barely a fight, her father raising it out of her reach with his gaze hardening more and more with every word he read.

"This is from him? And, you are trying to hide it from me?" he seethed, looking to her with blazing eyes, "After everything that has happened today, you are trying to protect him?"

A lump sat heavily in her throat, (Y/N) attempting to swallow around it through her eyes never left the letter that was above her head. "It's not like that, father," she tried to argue, "You know he has nothing to do with all of that. It is only a dinner party; I think he is trying to get to know us more, and he knows me from shopping downstairs, so—"

"How do you know?!" he boomed, breaking for the first time (Y/N) had seen since her mother's passing. "How do you know he has nothing to do with the dead girls? How do you know he doesn't have everything to do with it all, (Y/N)? You think it is safe to attend a dinner party at his dungeon? You welcome his advances knowing all that you do?!"

(Y/N) was rooted in her spot, listening to the tirade her father bubbled off. There was nothing she could say, nothing that could satisfy him no matter how carefully she picked her words.

"I know he is a well-off man, (Y/N)," he continued, taking her silence as response enough, "But you do not know him, no matter what you have been telling yourself. You daydream, and romanticize, and let your head wander too far from reality. How can you find reason enough to think it is safe to attend a party at his home? Have you already forgotten what you saw in the woods? Do you realize how easy it would be for you to join them?"

His words stung. He had always had a problem with her active imagination, the willingness she had to let her mind wander and come to the prettier conclusion, the softer avenue. Is that what she had done with Harry? Was that the missing piece? While she was wondering what it would be like to glide across a ballroom in his arms, feel the soft of his lips over her cheek, what the swirls of his curls would feel like between her fingers, the rest of the village was seeing the sharpened teeth and soulless eyes of a beast. Was she really that naive?

"I have not forgotten about that night, (Y/N). I have not forgotten about the night you were missing, either—wherever you truly were."

Dropping her gaze to the floorboards, (Y/N) felt her eyes sting.

While she knew he couldn't have been completely accepting of her lie, this was the first time he had acknowledged that her word hadn't been completely true.

"I am not letting the next body we find be yours, (Y/N). You are not going to that dinner party, do you understand me?" His command was emphasized with the sound of paper crumpling in his fist. He was ruining her invitation.

(Y/N)'s tongue was too dry for her mouth, unable to form a single word.

In a blurry moment, she was aware of her father stretching across the space, throwing the stove door open to reveal the small fire confined to the space. He tossed the letter in, the seal melting and slopping off the page while the paper singed and blackened at the edges before ashing away.

"Do you understand me, (Y/N)? Look at me, and promise me you will not go."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the page burn away. How could she have let this happen?

"Do not take the last of my family away from me," her father pleaded, finally seeming to break through the cloud in her head.

"I will not go," she agreed in a distant voice. "I understand."

When her father wrapped his arms around her, (Y/N) wanted to reciprocate with her heart though she could only do so with her arms.

—————

(Y/N) crawled on her hands and knees, ignoring her designated companion for the afternoon, as she weeded the herb garden. Lucy chattered away behind her as if they both didn't know (Y/N)'s head was miles away.

In her imagination, she was at the grandiose castle that no one else in her village had seen the way she had. She was there with the kindest man she had ever met, the man who cared for her in the middle of a storm when he could have kept moving and abandoned her to her own devices. She saw him when he rushed across the hallway, panicked that she might not be as well as he thought. She saw him as he positioned himself between her and the group of rowdy men spilling out of the pub. Those small things were more than she was sure he even knew, actions that someone who was practically a stranger wouldn't do unless they had a good heart.

She pinged between the castle, and back to the kitchen of her flat. There, she saw the way her father's eyes had blazed at her, anger boiling under his skin as he reminded her of what he had to lose should she end up one of those in the woods. She saw hints of the mourning man she had met after her mother's passing and her sister's departure. In the end, she knew he was nothing more than a scared father, seeing danger where she didn't. She had never seen him like that before.

Was she truly so blind? Her father was scared enough to shout and holler at her, keep her from ever spending a second alone, while she couldn't find a single clue as to what would make him think as much when it came to Harry. If she were being honest, she found him to be a better man than her sister's husband, and yet her father had been more than happy for Arabeth when she announced her engagement. Was her head truly so high up in the clouds that she could miss something so terribly wrong with Harry?

More than once, despite promising to her father that she wouldn't attend the dinner, she had considered what it would be like to go anyway. Though that thought never made it too far as soon as she remembered just how easily information like that would spread through the village—everyone was too nosy for their own good and would love to share a sighting of her up at the castle despite her vow. Besides, as dumbfounded as she was when it came to the aversion some felt to Harry, she couldn't deceive her father any more than she already had.

She loved and cared about her father, even if they were on the opposite sides of so many debates these days. He worried about her beyond reason at times, but she had to understand him. Even if that meant skipping out on the dinner party and going against the romantic heart sitting in her chest.

"Right, (Y/N)?" Lucy bubbled.

"Right," (Y/N) blindly answered, blinking out of her head. She didn't have a single idea of what exactly she was agreeing to, but it made Lucy happy.

She had given the right answer.

That was all that mattered.

—————

Twirling around on ornately beaded shoes, (Y/N) looked up in wonder at the castle walls covered in gorgeous, hand-painted patterns. Her dress fanned out around her like creamy frosting on a tea cake. From steps away, she could feel Harry's eyes on her as she traipsed around his home, adoring each and every detail she found.

"There is more, if you are ready to move on?" he offered, bouncing his eyebrows as if to tell her that she definitely wants to be ready to move on. She couldn't imagine what else he could show her on this tour that could top the places that had already blown her mind.

Nonetheless, she placed her palm in his offered hand, biting back a smile at the feel of his cool skin.

He guided her through the halls until they hit the back door. Outside, a garden awaited. Trees full of dripping wisteria greeted her, the lilac shining like the moon above. Lines of honeyed foxglove and velvet roses drew the boundaries around a perfect lawn. He pulled her along with him to the middle, beams of moonlight highlighting the pale shade of green he had dressed in for the occasion.

"Dance with me?" he asked her, coal eyes adoring over her features.

All it took was a nod of her head before she was pulled towards him, a symphony striking up without warning.

He twirled her through the grass, fallen wisteria petals kicking up around her gown, the roses swaying as if reaching out to touch them. Harry looked like a prince, complete with soft hands and a tender smile.

After twirling enough to get a giggle in her chest and head turning, Harry pulled her to his chest, settling down.

"I have missed you so, darling," he crooned, lips by her ear, "I fear I can no longer wait such stretches between seeing you—I don't have the strength to deprive myself." Looking up at him, she saw deep shadows cast across one half of his face while the other was bathed in the pastel light of the stars. "You take up more and more of my mind everyday."

An easy grin took place on her lips. He thought about her as much as she did he?

"Kiss me, darling."

Eagerly stretching to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pucker her lips. She could feel the tip of his nose grazing her own, skin chilled against her heat.

The faintest brush of his lips against hers, lashes fluttering—

Breathing in a gasp, (Y/N) was pulled from her dreams. Despite her stilted breathing, her heart had never been so steady in her chest.

While she tried to never read too much into her dreams, she couldn't help but to feel as if this night had been a sign. She had just decided that tomorrow night, she would stay home as usual, skipping the immaculate dinner at the Count's home, only to find herself touring his grounds in her dreams.

She was supposed to join the fray tomorrow, she cemented. She would find a way to keep the event from her father, from the nosy neighbors, anything to keep the night from souring.

So many variables sung through her, asking how at all she would make it up to the castle without an escort, how she would even skirt past her father in the first place, how, how, how. (Y/N) ignored them all for the time being, instead allowing a smile to settle on her features as she laid back.

This time tomorrow, she would hopefully be in his arms.

—————

"Goodnight," (Y/N) pleasantly chirped, accepting her father's hug and kiss on the forehead.

"Goodnight, love." His parting words were the last she heard from him before they both retreated to their separate bedrooms.

The moon was bright in the sky as she closed the door to her bedroom. With her window open just a crack, there was little sound tittering through the village. The only vestiges of the busy Friday came from the tavern down the block that was just beginning to gear up for the night.

While the prospect of others milling about the center of town was a worrying obstacle, (Y/N) was grateful for the kind of cover their presence would offer. The dinner party was set to begin in an hour, and she was going to have to sneak through town and up the winding path to the castle.

There was no way she was going to make it on time, given the fact she had to wait to ensure her father was truly asleep, ready herself to attend such an event, and make the trip sans carriage. It wasn't an impossible list of tasks, she just hoped that she would still make it in time for dessert.

Creeping across her room as quietly as possible, (Y/N) tried to prep herself as much as she could without alerting any of the creaky floorboards or sweeping too quickly through her room. She couldn't be sure exactly what her father could hear from his quarters. She couldn't risk him entering and finding her going against his direct wishes of staying away from the castle.

It wasn't until the only blinks of light came in the form of twinkling stars and a sliver of the moon, that (Y/N) was both ready and almost positive that her father was well asleep. She couldn't be completely sure of the latter unless she waltzed into the bedroom and saw him asleep with her own eyes, leaving her to assume the snoring she heard wasn't just an elaborate ruse on his part. Having raided her closet, attempting to find her most lavish of pieces, she was left in a plain purple dress with small beading here and there—it was the same gown she had worn to her sister's wedding, though it was nowhere near as ornate as what she could remember of Harry's estate. She hoped she would still be found acceptable at least.

Donning her cloak, she took the first step in her plan. Every move she made was calculated and careful as she pried open her window enough to slip through. Dangling her feet over the edge, she felt around for the small ledge offered underneath her window from the sloped awning that wrapped around the building. It wasn't anywhere near stable enough to hold her weight for long, but it was enough to help her down before skirting towards more stable avenues.

Her skirt caught on the sill for a lingering moment, keeping her from landing as gracefully as she had hoped on the textured ledge. With the heels of her boots clattering against the side of her home, (Y/N) cringed with her eyes crinkling closed. She could feel her heart in her ears, pumping against the confines of her throat as she waited for the slam of her father's door. Long, laborious moments passed before she realized with flooding relief that she had garnered no attention; her father was still well asleep and the patrons of the pub kept up their own noise down the street. She allowed herself then to carefully slide down the uneven awning on her bottom, until she could safely hop down to the soft soil at the back of her home.

The landing was nowhere near graceful, but it was silent. Straightening up and brushing off the debris that landed on her gown, (Y/N) allowed a small sense of accomplishment to take her. For her first time sneaking away, she had done alright for herself.

Peering at her herb garden instinctively, she could make out the gaze of her moon-eyed black cat. The kitten played with the bugs floating around, stopping for a moment to match (Y/N)'s eyes.

A small smile perked over her lips. She could only take this as a good sign—she was doing what she was meant to tonight.

The first few strides away from her home were done as quietly as possible, with her head down and hood of her cloak on. There was nothing going on in her head other than the hope and prayers that she would make it out of this without being caught. She wished the most pleasant and calming dreams upon her father, anything to keep him deeply in his sleep.

It was when she had cleared the block of her home without a single person spotting her that she had picked up the pace. The event had to have started at least a half an hour ago, and she had to hustle there if she wanted to experience any of the get-together before the festivities ended. If she was quick, she could make it to the castle within the hour.

That was if the dark didn't scare her off first, of course.

That juvenile fear followed her on her trek, breathing down her neck enough to push her into bursts of jogging over the path until she felt as if she had outran her invisible enemy. More than once, glancing towards the woods that weren't that far from the path, her active imagination was sparked, showing her all the things she hoped she would never truly see.

Forcing herself to keep her focus, (Y/N) did her best to keep her head down and attention placed on the tail end of the party she was eager to catch. Working over the steep hills and sloping declines, she attempted to push herself to go as fast as possible while still keeping her breath in her corset. Every time she looked ahead, she allowed a small celebration knowing that the castle was looming closer and closer with every pace.

As time ticked on and a bead of sweat dropped down the back of her dress, (Y/N) could only hope she made it in time and wasn't turned away despite the disheveled state she would no doubt turn up in.

Her legs pumped harder at the thought.

—————

(Y/N) didn't have much memory tied to the lawn of the castle from the last time she had visited. She wasn't even conscious during the arrival, and her departure had seen her entirely wrapped up in Harry himself. This left the sight of the foliage around the otherwise dreary exterior quite the sight.

As if she had conjured it herself, Harry had what could only be described as a grove of wisteria trees surrounding the grounds. Lavender petals swept across the ground, leaving what emulated a floral moat around the castle itself. From down in the village, she couldn't glimpse any of this, their forest having cut off sight of the magnificence. It was along the facade of the home that she saw long flower beds filled with the gaping mouths of foxglove stalks, blood red roses with thorn laden stems, and bushels of small white flowers growing from purple spotted stems. Hemlock, she knew them to be called—another poisonous variant Harry had unwittingly planted.

Out front, there wasn't a single carriage or horse awaiting its master's arrival. She wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but maybe the evening was going to drag so long that everyone's transportation had been shooed away for the time being.

Scaling the sloping hill that led up to the grandiose entrance of the castle, (Y/N)'s huffed breath created small puffs of white in front of her. Despite the chilled temperature, she was still overheated rom her strenuous trek all the way up.

Approaching the door, she gave herself a moment to primp over the details of her appearance. Pulling her hood from her head, she attempted to smooth out her hair, hoping the twine she had holding back specific strands could hold for a bit longer. Dabbing at her features with the neck of her cloak, she tried to eradicate any sweat that had prickled her features. Though she knew she was dressed nowhere near as nicely as she figured Harry's other friends would be, she still brushed her hands down her dress in a final act before raising her hand to knock at the door.

Her heartbeat stilled in her chest as she waited.

When she first heard the click of the knob on the other side, she immediately straightened her posture.

While there wasn't much she could expect, given there was nothing there for her to compare this evening to, (Y/N) definitely hadn't anticipated having Harry be the one to greet her. After finally meeting one of his staff, he had thought the footman that had delivered her invitation would be the one to deal with the menial task of welcoming her in (or shooing her away).

Instead, she was gifted with the sight of Harry in an all black getup. The only pops of color came in the form of a forest green cravat and the hint of rouge on his lips. She shied away at the thought of the flush coming from the mouth of a young woman. His skin was just as creamy as she remembered, the planes of his face cut and severe. Nonetheless, when he looked at her, softened edges jumped out, gentling even his dark gaze.��

Making an effort to keep herself from floating over to him as if a moth to a black flame, (Y/N) rooted herself in her spot. "I am so sorry I'm late," she offered, her voice a bit watery and uneven, "I hope you can still accept me, despite the hour."

The smile that had filled her dreams bloomed across Harry's features, his rouged lips acting like rose petals.

"You are not late at all," he told her, eyes bright and dazzling, "I could never start without you, my guest of honor."

(Y/N) felt flushed as he welcomed her in with a flourish, bowing out of the way as if she had any right to that caliber of greeting.

"Guest of honor?" she asked, stepping over the threshold with shy paces. If she had known as much she would have ran less and dressed nicer.

"Did I not tell you?" he smiled, shutting the door behind her as she untied the neck of her cloak, "I thought I had put that on every invitation."

"I think it may have slipped your mind," she told him, playing along with his game.

Shrugging, he gave her a roguish smile, taking her cloak only to throw it across the back of a lounger planted in her foyer. "It may have." Sidling up next to her, he offered his arm for her to take. (Y/N) settled her hand in the crook of his elbow, biting back the fluttering grin that plucked at her lips. "I suppose we have time for that tour now that you're here, right?"

Instead of following right after him, (Y/N) turned to him with confusion knitting her brows. She knew he had to be a bit unconventional given his reclusive status, but she figured he knew better than this.

"But, your guests. Should we not join them for dinner?"

Amusement lit up his features, shatters of green appearing in his irises. Dipping his chin as he looked at her, he whispered, "May I share a secret with you?"

(Y/N) couldn't help but to fall into a conspiratorial role with him. She had hoped she would earn a chance to learn everything about him. "Of course, you may."

Harry huffed a laugh at her intrigue. Ducking his head, he positioned his mouth by her ear. He was close enough she could feel a chill radiating from his skin, his breath fanning across her own.

"I only invited you."

Rearing back, (Y/N) felt both flattered and bewildered by his admission. "But," she started, searching his eyes for any kind of tease, "I thought this was supposed to be a party. It's not much of one if there's only me."

He gave her a shrug, shoulder bouncing with her hand still settled in the bend of his elbow. "Why would I invite others if I am only wishing to see you?"

Flattery won out over the bewilderment she felt then, a shy smile taking her features. The only way she knew she wasn't dreaming was the degraded state of her dress—she always dressed herself immaculately in her imagination.

"I am especially happy I could make it, then," she decided, peeking up at him through the fan of her lashes.

The feel of his gaze tracing over her face had (Y/N) straightening her posture with a tickle going down her spine. It was if he were taking note of everything, keeping her expressions to himself for later. A pleased smile plucked at the corner of his lips at whatever he found as he dropped his gaze down her neck.

"I am, too; more than you know," he shared after a heartbeat, collecting himself before setting his gaze forward. He bobbed his arm under her grip, edging her towards the grand. "Shall we?"

Though she felt a touch of deja-vu, finding herself in another predicament where she was unchaperoned with Harry at her side once more, (Y/N) was beginning to no longer care what even her father would say should he catch her. No wonder Harry kept to himself and did as he pleased—it was rather satisfying.

With the silence their only companion, she nodded her head.

"We shall."

A dazzling smile spread over his lips.

—————

(Y/N) was enchanted as she traipsed through Harry's home, her hold on him being the only thing keeping her from being lured away by whatever trinket or art piece that caught her eye. He pointed things out as they went, allowing her to fawn over the grandness he lived in. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a fond smile on his lips as he watched her. Though she didn't have an exact idea of what it was like to go on a promenade through royal grounds for a courting date, she figured this is what it felt like.

His home reflected his personal taste for dark colors and luxurious details. Vases full of the purple blossom she had found out front lined the halls, mixing with the musk of the familiar herbs she sold to him. Deep greens seemed to be the running theme through the color scheme, allowing any other hue to emulate a bloom through the brush of the forest floor, or the night sky peeking through the canopy of trees. There were rooms upon rooms shielded behind heavy walnut doors, no less than a handful down each hall he took her to. There were too many for (Y/N) to keep track of, though Harry seemed to know exactly what was behind each door without a moment's thought; even when she swore they had been turned around and looped in a circle, he knew just where they were with a description of every hidden room.

With the sheer amount of space he was showing her, Harry didn't have time to show her every single room, to push open the door and introduce her to the space, instead offering the highlights as they went. (Y/N)'s favorites came in the form of a budding library (the walls were complete shelves along with freestanding cases that cozied up a sitting area in the middle; the shelves held enough books to keep anyone busy for over a year but there was still room to grow, giving the possibility to read for a lifetime when full), an adorably grey tea room, and a painter's studio set up for portraits. Even with those spaces that took (Y/N)'s breath and sparked a world of imagination, her most preferred spot was the newly erected structure out behind the castle. It was a greenhouse, he'd said. An entire home the size of her own flat with the sole purpose of nursing and growing any and every kind of plant.

"It's a budding interest of mine," he said when they had stopped to admire the glass-paneled house through a stretching window of the castle, "You've inspired me."

It was like he knew that would have her blood warming and her teeth sinking into the pillow of her bottom lip.

Soon enough they turned down a hallway familiar to (Y/N). This was the same wing that housed her room he boarded her in during the storm.

"Remember this?" he prodded with raised brows, taking her down the walkway.

Tipping her head back, she set her sights on the ceiling. Above was the same muted floral mural that had been painted across the rest of the castle ceiling. With her eyes following the thorned vibes through the different blooms, (Y/N) absently nodded her head.

"This is where my room is."

It wasn't until she heard his huffed laugh that she realized what she had said. Her eyes rounded out in horror with embarrassment warming her skin.

"I-I'm so sorry—I misspoke—"

"It's alright," he soothed her, flexing his arm under her hold, "You are the only guest to have ever stayed in this room, so it is yours in my eyes as well."

Harry led her towards the chambers, pushing open the door as if it was another new space for her to explore. Inside, it was just as she remembered, thick velvets and cozy furs. Another bouquet of flowers was delicately perched on the table as if in wait for her. The only difference came in the ornate wardrobe that was now pushed against the wall in front of the four-poster bed. The doors were wide open, showcasing whatever hung inside though from where she stood, (Y/N) couldn't see a single stitch of what it was.

"Go take a look," he told her, dropping his arm as he urged her forward.

Without the anchor of his body, (Y/N) drifted towards the open wardrobe, her hands a bundle at her waist. When she saw what exactly had been showcased inside, she felt her jaw fall into a gape.

Hung up on a satin wrapped hanger was the most gorgeous gown she had ever seen. The fabric was glimmering and slick like silk, redder than anything she had ever seen—as if the fibers had been dyed with fresh blood. The skirt was full, layers of crinoline underneath though the overlay still draped and folded atop the filler. The bodice was a stiff corset, cut with scooping neckline that made (Y/N) want to blush at what it would look like on, tapering straps holding the whole garment upright on the hanger. She kept herself from reaching out to turn the dress, though she wanted to know if she really did see the edge of a bow stationed at the waist for it there was even more dress to be fawned over.

"What do you think?" Harry prodded, his voice closer behind her than she remembered.

She kept her eyes forward, on the crimson masterpiece. She could only imagine how long it would take to craft something so stunning.

"It is gorgeous," she sighed. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she turned to look at him with a pleasant smile on her lips. She wasn't here as the guest of honor to give out her fashion advice. "Just like the rest of your home," she recovered as if she hadn't been standing, staring at the dress for a handful of minutes, "Breath-taking."

His pale lavender lids were on display as he looked at her through the fan of his lashes, a huff of laughter falling from his lips. "Thank you," he told her, "But, what about the gown?"

"Oh," she sounded, happily taking the excuse to lay her eyes upon the dress once more. Was it possible more of the skirt had unfurled, as if the fabric was closer to that of a blooming rose than a stationary garment? "I've never seen anything more beautiful," she shared honestly, "It would be impossible to find anything to compare."

"You won't have to worry about that," he mused, stepping around her to pull the hanger from the rod. "Since this one is yours already."

(Y/N)'s jaw dropped at his declaration. Her eyes downturned as she took in the full of the gown, unsure of what exactly to say to such a claim.

"I-I," she floundered, unable to find her words, "I'm sorry?"

Harry looked genuinely pleased with her reaction, proud of himself for finding something she clearly loved so much. "I had this made for you," he told her, presenting the gown to her as he held it up, "When I decided that I wanted to invite you over, I figured I couldn't exactly celebrate my guest of honor without a gift. I hope I didn't assume too much, but I thought you might even like to wear it this evening."

She had been struck speechless as she listened. Not once had she ever received a gift so grand, so gorgeously outside of her means.

"But, please," Harry continued when she didn't give an answer, his expression falling some though he tried to hide it, "Do not take this as something you have to accept if you do not want it. You look wonderful already—heartbreakingly so, if I'm honest—and I do not want to force you to change if you'd rather not."

Unable to hold back her own plume of laughter, (Y/N) shook her head. In what world would her refashioned nightgown look heartbreakingly wonderful? As she had said before, there was nothing that could compare to this dress.

There had to be etiquette that came with accepting a gift of this caliber, but (Y/N) preferred to use her ignorance to her advantage at the moment. It couldn't be considered too offensive if she loved something he had made just for her.

"I love it," she reiterated, sneaking a cautious hand out to trace her fingertips over the silken fabric, "I would love to wear it tonight, Harry."

He brightened immediately at her acceptance, relief touching his features now that he was no longer floundering over his present. "I'm glad," he cemented, laying the garment on the edge of the bed with a flourish, "I will give you a moment to change before we start for dinner, if that's alright?"

While the draw of the gown was significant, (Y/N) kept her eyes on the man who had given it to her. A giddy smile was on her lips as she looked up at him. With this gift, she would almost look as if she belonged at his side—it would make sense to see her on his arm to a stranger's eyes.

"Thank you, Harry."

Bowing out of the room, he stopped to tip his head to her. "It is my pleasure, darling."

—————

Having had enough practice with tying her own corsets and stuffing herself into various dresses for church and other village-wide occasions after her sister moved away, (Y/N) didn't take much time to change into the crimson couture. She had lingered over the process a bit, savoring the feel of the expensive fabric and the novelty tying system on the back (there really was a bow at the bustle, too!), but she had been more excited to meet with Harry once again. Once she had the dress adorning her body—the piece a perfect fit—, she had spotted a few extra pieces lying around the wardrobe that she couldn't help but to use to her advantage.

A pair of beaded red slippers were snug in the corner of the wardrobe, levels above what she currently had on her feet and had trekked up to his castle in. On a shelf built in above the rod the dress had previously been hung up on, were a pair of long white gloves—the kind (Y/N) could only picture on a princess. She couldn't help herself as she drew on the gloves, the satin glimmering alongside her dress. Using the twine she already had in her hair, she tried to twist her strands into something more elaborate to match her new attire. When she finished, she had settled on an updo, keeping everything out of the way as to show off the gown in its entirety.

Looking at herself in the mirror, (Y/N) had never seen herself in such a light. The scooping neckline of the dress showed off more skin than she knew a woman could even show in public, the swells of her breasts pushed up and swelling over the corset. The skirt draped itself over her form, creasing and folding in waves that flourished out before hitting the ground. Turning to the side, she could glimpse the bow that had been fastened to the bustle of her dress, a detail she loved more than she had thought. Her gloves came up to the mid of her bicep, the addition making her feel more regal than she had any business to. She felt the only thing missing was a rouge to be swiped over her lips and a red flush to her cheeks.

Leaving behind her now designated room, her rudimentary gown left behind in a puddle on the floor, (Y/N) half expected Harry to be stationed across the hall from her like the last time she had emerged. Instead, she found herself alone in the stretching corridor. Her heels clicked over the floor as she made her way down.

While she had already had an eyeful of the space the pair of times she had been escorted down this same hall, she still found something new to look at with every turn of her head. If not for the fact Harry had to be waiting for her on the other side of the castle, she could have luxuriated for hours here.

Traipsing through for the first time on her own, (Y/N) noticed small details she had overlooked in Harry's presence—particularly the lack of staff. Other than the footman she had seen a week prior, there didn't seem to be anyone else here with Harry despite the size of his home. She would have figured there was a team of people, different departments and leads that would have been tasked with taking care of the grounds, the different wings, everything. And yet, she seemed to be the only beating heart around.

Perhaps he wanted to have privacy for the night, she figured. Harry definitely was the type to request something of the sort.

Retracing her steps until she found the same set of grand stairs Harry had escorted her down after she recovered from her fainting spell during the storm, (Y/N) was proud of herself for navigating the maze that was this castle. Just as she crested the mezzanine before the final set of steps to the ground floor, she caught sight of her waiting prince.

Harry seemingly hadn't realized she was there as she caught him cozying up to a familiar black cat. She could hear the low murmurs of his croons to the moon-eyed kitten, petting his fingers under the scruff of her neck while she leaned into his touch. (Y/N) couldn't contain her own coo once she saw him press a kiss between the cat's ears.

With that, he realized he was no longer alone, having been caught doling out affection to what (Y/N) had previously thought to be a stray.

"(Y/N)," he started, gently setting the kitten down back on her paws before she scurried away. He still hadn't looked at her as he brushed his hands down the front of his coat, "I am so sorry. I hadn't realized you were—"

His words were suddenly stuck in his throat when he cast his gaze upon her.

(Y/N) have never seen him at a loss for words before, his dark eyes wide with mouth in a soft gape as looked at her. While she had felt his eyes on her before, this moment was different than what she had experienced prior. It was as if his hands were on her, fingertips glancing down her throat, sweeping over her collarbones and cleavage. Her bare skin was chilled where she swore she felt his eyes linger, goosebumps awakening. Was this how he felt when she looked at him? Could he feel how drawn to him she was? Was her romantic heart too high up in the clouds as she assumed that he could experience that similar warm chest and twirling gut that she did when she saw him?

There were intentions behind his eyes—more than what was acceptable for him to say out loud.

"You look... I don't think there are any words that could describe how you look right now, actually."

Despite the shy peal of laughter his words elicited from (Y/N), he was thoroughly serious as he spoke. The sentiment only made her heart flutter in her chest.

"Thank you," she smiled, descending the stairs. Harry didn't hesitate to offer her his arm when she reached the landing, pride puffing his chest when she took it without question. "I hope it's alright I'm using a little extra I found in the wardrobe."

"It is more than alright," he beamed at her, dazzling smile to match the fractures of green swimming to the surface of his coal eyes, "Everything in there is yours now."

"You don't mean that," she laughed off, diligently following him as he brought her to the dining room.

"The whole wing could be yours if you asked," he countered, his offer seemingly serious despite his grin.

Before she could argue, he pushed open a grand door, leading her into the dining room. Inside, a long table sat at the center of the room. Ornate candles lit the space, showcasing hints of gold and shining onyx among the otherwise muted room. On the table was a feast (Y/N) had never seen the likes of before.

Meats, cheeses, wines, and breads were placed all throughout on pristine china. Steam rolled off the dishes in alluring waves, like the smoke from a candle freshly snuffed. How his staff had pulled something off so elaborate without making a single noise, she couldn't comprehend, but she wasn't about to start asking questions in the face of greatness.

"My goodness," she murmured. Looking at this spread, she was suddenly grateful that she had taken such an exhaustive route up here. She had all the room in the world to try everything in front of her.

"I was unable to ask for your favorites before tonight, but I hope you'll find something to your liking," Harry prattled, much too modest given the sight before them.

"I have no doubt," (Y/N) responded, allowing Harry to guide her to an empty chair at the head of the table.

Once he helped her settle in, he took his own seat on the opposite end of the table. "I hope you don't mind," he started, a goblet in hand already filled with a deep wine, "But I told my staff to take the night off. We'll have to serve ourselves, but this way we'll have more privacy." A beat passed before a furrow appeared in his brows. "Unless you would prefer their presence. I know this is our first formal meeting, so..."

"No, no, it's alright," she waved him off, not feeling the need to have others present while she dined with him. Besides, she would hate to have been promised the night to herself only to be called back. "I think we'll be able to keep a handle on ourselves."

(Looking down, she just missed the way Harry looked at her with his dark eyes gleaming and a shrewd curl to his lips at her words).

While it was surely odd for Harry, (Y/N) didn't mind serving herself—she did it every day, anyway. With her eyes bigger than her stomach, she couldn't help but to overfill her plate with the way she wanted a bite of everything. Before she knew it, there were three different cheeses, more kinds of dinner bread than she knew even existed, and helpings of figgy chicken, creamy potatoes, and rosemary scented greens. If she could get away with it, she would be grabbing seconds.

Flicking her gaze up when she realized just how rude it must be to be so engrossed in her meal when her host and sole company was just across the table, she found his eyes already on her over the rim of his wine glass. The crystal just barely hid the amused curl of his lips.

"I apologize," she mumbled, dropping her gaze though she could still feel his eyes on her features.

"No need," he said, waving her off, "I'm glad you want to try everything."

Eased some, she picked up one of the gleaming silver forks complimenting her place setting and began picking at her food. "Do you have any favorites?" she questioned, feeling a bit silly to be asking what his favorite food was.

He shrugged in response, canting his head some as he raised his wine glass. "I tend to favor the wine at a dinner party, if 'm honest." She watched as he took another sip, the deep red color seemingly staining the crystal. The center of his lips even seemed to take on the dye, emulating that tint of rouge he had started the night with. The wine lingered in the bowl of his glass, seemingly thicker than any spirit she had seen before. "I'd rather hear about your favorites, (Y/N)," Harry said, tipping his head towards her with his features lit up with the amber candlelight.

A small curl tugged at her lips then. It was an interesting feeling, being so drawn to him and finding comfort in his presence, then remembering that he didn't even know the color of the rainbow she preferred or the season she thrived the most under. Trivialities didn't seem so important when there was that innate need to be around him.

"What do you want to know?" she preened, unsure of where to start when it came to herself.

The reflection of the candlelight emulated stars in his eyes as he fixed his gaze to her. His eyes felt like a pair of hands on her body once more.

It was only when he flicked them up to match her own, that he spoke again:

"Everything."

—————

"... I had never seen my sister so mad at me before," (Y/N) laughed, setting her chin in her hand, unconsciously leaning towards Harry from where he relocated to sit at her side.

The dinner part of the evening had ended some time ago, (Y/N) satisfied with her fill while Harry nursed his never-ending glass of wine. The attention had shifted then, turning to any anecdote of information he could pull out of her on his quest to learn the everything he requested to know about her. Soon enough the space between served to be too much for either of their liking, ending with Harry sidling up beside her, taking one of the unoccupied seats at her side. The intensity of his gaze was unwavering as he listened to anything and everything she had to say, unwilling to miss a single detail no matter how minute the story it was that she shared. More than once (Y/N) had attempted to redirect some of the conversation to him, only for him to casually mention the kinds of travels he'd been on and the people he'd met before he brushed it off in favor of hearing more of her voice. She wondered if he even knew just how intriguing he was, how fascinating his own stories would be to someone like her, who had stayed in the same village all her life.

"I could imagine," he smiled at her, the cut planes of his features having melted down into soft curves and rounded edges, "You sound like you were a little terror."

(Y/N) was prepared to counter his teasing remark when the echoing chime sounded from the grandfather clock stationed at the head of the room. The heavy gonging detailed out the time having turned into midnight—much later than (Y/N) had anticipated staying out when she had snuck out at nine.

Her shoulders fell when she realized that her night had to be coming to an end soon.

"What is wrong?" Harry asked, picking up on the decline in her expression.

"It's getting very late—later than I thought," she started, turning to him with regret ready on her features, "I won't be able to stay much longer if I don't want anyone noticing I'm gone."

Harry finally seemed to pick up on the time then. She had shyly shared with him earlier that she hadn't exactly gained permission to join him for the evening, and had still gone anyway, making it so her cover for the night had to be pristine should she want to keep herself out of trouble.

"I suppose it is rather late," he mused, a pinch appearing between his brows as he stared at the clock, "But, we still have some time, don't we? I don't know if I'm ready to send you home yet."

The flattery went straight through the ladder of her ribs and to her heart as she listened to him. While she knew better than to linger longer than what she could handle, she knew she wasn't ready for the evening to end either.

"I just do not want to scare my father again, not after I had disappeared during the storm."

"Was he very upset?" he asked, concern in his eyes when he turned to face her.

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth. It wasn't a particularly light topic bringing up the reaction her neighbors had when it came to him. "I hadn't told him that I was with you that night, but I think he knew anyway. There are some... gossips in the village that I think tried to convince him that you had hurt me or tried to keep me away from home."

His brow creased further at her words. "I am well aware that there are some... unsavory attitudes present when it comes to me and the fact that I don't associate much with the day-to-day of the village and that there have been concerns when it comes to what is being found in the woods, but," Harry paused, his gaze intent on hers with the shattered green of his eyes floating in his irises, "You know I would never hurt you, right, (Y/N)? I care about you—more than I probably should, but the last thing I would ever want is to bring you harm."

She was not the person that needed to be convinced of his intentions, (Y/N) having seen the genuine concern in his eyes when she woke from her fainting spell, having felt his soft touch, having heard the gentle way he spoke to her as if she were a wounded animal. She knew where his intentions lied and she felt safe within them, but she was still taken aback at the clear set of his eyes, honesty lining his features. She had never doubted him before, but now there was no room for any kind of counter argument that could wiggle in the back of her mind.

"I believe you," she told him, her voice a sudden whisper as if sharing a secret not to be heard by the walls, "I know you better than they do, and I'll trust your intentions over any rumor. I trust you."

Harry's eyes rounded out as he listened to her, taking in her genuine take the same way she had his.

"Thank you," he smiled, matching the soft volume of her voice. Glancing once more at the clock, Harry stood to the full of his height with his hand outstretched towards her, "I don't want to land you in any trouble, but if you have some extra time to spare with me, there was one more place I wanted to show you before the night is over."

She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm in his, the chill of his skin leaving no other effect but goosebumps on her own.

—————

(Y/N)'s heels clicked on the glossy, black floor under their feet as Harry escorted her to a grand set of double doors they had initially passed by during his tour. He held a proud smile on his lips when he pushed the door open, the hinges gliding without a noise.

Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) was drawn in by the sprawling ballroom inside. It was the kind of space that would fit in perfectly for royalty, she thought as she fawned over the sparkling floors and high ceilings. Green and gold accented the space, more flowers spilling out here and there. The walls were elaborately furnished with filigree and art, mirrors strategically placed as if the space didn't look big enough on its own.

"I've never actually used this room before," Harry murmured, following after her as she took in the space.

"How could you not?" she answered in awe, twirling around in search of every detail, "I would host parties every night with something like this."

There was amusement in his tone when he responded, "I think it's rather obvious that I didn't care much for other's company—except for you, of course."

Her skin warmed at his words. He was teasing her again. She didn't know what to say, only biting back a shy smile as she settled on her feet, turning to find him already looking at her with a clear gaze.

"I was hoping, before the night is over, that you might dance with me."

Harry offered her a pale hand, his features softened in wait for her response.

She didn't have to think before she was placing her palm over his, fingers curling into a hold. "But there's no music?" she said, canting her head.

Pulling her towards him, Harry matched her gaze. "That's nothing to worry about," he shared, his voice suddenly a low secret between the two.

While (Y/N) didn't exactly understand how he was going to replicate any music without a single musician present, she didn't have time to ask before he was placing a firm hand on her waist and clasping their joined hands in a stiff hold. Instinctively, (Y/N) settled her own hand on his shoulder falling in line with his moves.

(Y/N) was far from well versed in the proper moves needed to pull off any kind of elaborate routine, but as she looked into his eyes, she didn't need to think before she fell in line with Harry's guidance. After only a moment, the clacking of her heels the only noise, suddenly the ballroom was filled with the delicate singing of a violin and thrumming keys from a pianoforte.

She wanted to turn her head, to see if there was a hidden stage that she had missed, but she held her gaze steady with Harry's. A dazzling smile pulled at his features, his hand squeezing at her waist as he twirled them around.

"Better?" he murmured, his voice mixing with the music.

She could only manage a nod of her head, her own lips beginning to curl to mimic the set of his own.

Taking a deep breath into her lungs, (Y/N) dropped herself squarely in the moment. This was everything her romantic heart had always desired: flourishing music while she twirled in a gown made only by the finest hands, a handsome, heart-fluttering partner at her side. Poems were written with the sole purpose of attempting to put into words what the feeling she had in her chest was like. Paintings were made depicting the light that came with dancing with one's beloved. Her own dreams urged her to find something like this in her lifetime.

Time stood still where she was, feeling the cool weight of Harry's hand in her, and the effortless gliding he evoked from her. The music swelled and dipped, taking her through the seasons with Harry twirling and holding her every hour. It could have been days that she stayed there, her eyes fluttered closed with a quiet smile on her face, and she would have barely realized.

Blinking her eyes open, she saw Harry looking down at her. This was her one—the man in her sonnet, the one in her portrait, who she'd seen in her dreams.

"I wish I knew what the inside of your head was like," he told her, drawing her away from him only to twirl her in a swirl of crimson. He brought her back to his chest, his hand on her waist slipping to loop around the curve—highly inappropriate though (Y/N) wouldn't dream of stopping him.

"It is nothing special," she shied away from his words, turning her head as he led them around in the ballroom in a structured circle.

"I doubt that," he said, dipping lower until his lips were at her ear, "You are nothing less than absolutely special, (Y/N)."

Harry drew her away from him once more, holding his hand up above her head as she was twirled. As she spun, she just barely caught her reflection in the gilded framed mirror hung on the wall. The slash of her red dress caught her eye first, bright against the deep green and dark shades splashed throughout the space.

But the most jarring part of the sight was the fact that she was dancing alone.

Harry was nowhere to be seen in that small glimpse, her hand holding nothing but the thin air.

Before she could truly catch any kind of detail, she had been spun away and back to Harry's chest.

Not even a single heartbeat of time had been missed while (Y/N)'s skin erupted into goosebumps. What an odd trick of the light, she thought. She must have had more wine than she initially figured.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked, keeping her firm against his chest though now there was a cream between his brows.

Shaking her head, (Y/N) cast that glimpse out of her head. It wouldn't have been that hard for him to blend in with the rest of the ballroom, she argued, with the way he was dressed in all black.

"Yes, I'm alright. Just a little dizzy, I think," she laughed, tightening her hold on his hand. If she really was growing that dizzy and the effects of the wine hitting her that hard, she was going to have to make a real effort to stay upright.

"Stay close, darling," Harry murmured, "I've got you."

(Y/N) all but keened at his words, doing as he said and happily staying close to him with the planes of his chest pressing against her corseted breasts. The music reached heights and valleys around them, the strings of the violin singing in a tenor (Y/N) had never dreamed of hearing so smooth. She was transfixed in the moment, twirling and stepping, allowing Harry to guide her every which way. Even when her inadequacy showed, he kept his hold on her strong, catching her through the stumbles with a small smile as if a promise to keep that misstep between them and this empty ballroom.

A gasp left her lips when Harry stopped them only to fluidly dip her backwards with his face hovering over hers. He held her steady with his arms turning into steady bars around her back and her own looping around his neck. Her gasp turned into a fluff of giggles leaving her throat, never having felt anything like this before. Harry laughed with her, lingering in that stance as she dropped her head back, extending her neck with her eyes closed.

Time stood still then, (Y/N) luxuriating in the feel of faux-floating in his arms. She swallowed when she felt the icy touch of the very tip of his nose skimming the column of her throat. She felt her lips stretch into a dreamy smile as she cracked her eyes open.

To the side of them, hanging from its gilded frame, was the opulently large mirror she had peeked at a handful of minutes prior. This time, when she peered at her reflection, she could no longer deny what she had seen before.

With her eyes wide, (Y/N) saw herself hovering in mid-air, no other soul present in the ballroom. There were indents in her dress where she knew Harry was holding her, where her skirt flared around their feet and had been pushed back by his legs. But she was the only one seen in the reflection.

Her mouth dropped into a gape, a quiet gasp falling from between her lips.

"(Y/N)?" he started, righting her position as she went stiff in his arms. She couldn't tear her eyes off of the mirror, watching as the space around her interacted with her with phantom hands. "What is wrong? What are you—"

In that moment, though she could only see him from the corner of her eye, she figured Harry had to have caught on to what she was seeing—or not seeing, really.

That pause in the universe as they danced finally resumed in that moment, the trance broken. (Y/N) scrambled out of his arms, dropping her own from around his neck as she stepped back. Her heels clacked over the floor, her skirt dragging. There was no more music tinkling through the space, only echoing silence.

A pinch knitted her brows together, her head tipping as if she could catch another angle and suddenly see Harry in the glass.

"D-Do you see it, too?" she whimpered, hoping against all odds that she wasn't losing her mind right now. What was in that wine?

"(Y/N)," he started, stepping towards her with the movement echoing in the silent hall, "I can explain."

That had her whirling around in her spot, decidedly moving out of reach from. His response was far from reassuring.

"What?" she sounded. What was there to explain? All he was supposed to tell her was that yes, he saw his reflection missing too, but that mirror had always been faulty—he was working on fixing the issue, it was nothing for her to worry about.

This time when she looked at him, (Y/N) swore Harry's eyes had grown darker. The smatterings of green had shied away, leaving only the coal-like expanses against his pale skin.

He was real, right in front of her. She felt the planes of his body, the strength of his grip. She had seen him through the village, let him hold her, she had seen him interact with others as well. Why couldn't the mirror see him?

"A-Are you a ghost?" (Y/N) choked out, feeling as crazy as her question sounded. Mary and Ethel would be proud of the nonsensical explanation her brain had handed her.

When she saw him roll his lips between his teeth, gaze flitting past her and towards the mirror at her back, (Y/N) felt her spine stiffen.

"Not quite," he started, expression grim, "It's complicated."

While she hadn't exactly had a preferred response in mind, she figured it would have been better than a simple declaration of it’s complicated. (Y/N) began backing away from him then, clarity entering her mind in a chilling sweep.

Her head had been so in the clouds, luxuriating amongst the swelling music and fanciful notes. She had been too preoccupied with everything Harry, the way she was drawn to him, keening under his attention and mooning over every word of flattery he gave her. Now, details began to fall into place.

His skin, in her hand and pressed to her chest—even through layers of clothing—was cold. She had never given it much thought, just assuming that he was one of the few that ran colder than others and took the chills easier. Now, she could only see the pale pallor of his skin and the temperature and wonder how easily he would fit in with the corpses found in the forest. His eyes were always so dark, (Y/N) barely unable to differentiate the center from the iris, only when she squinted and took the time could she pick out the shades of green inside. Normal people didn't just... lose their reflection. Mirrors caught it all, no matter how dingy or foggy. Harry was invisible to the glass.

Her eyes dropped to the center of his lips where the pillows housed a small tint, red and warm.

"What are you?"

When he took a cautious step towards her, (Y/N) all but stumbled back, itching to keep the current chasm of space between them. Harry stopped where he stood then, dropping his gaze from hers.

(Y/N)'s heartbeat sounded in her ears while she awaited his response.

"It is... hard to explain," he answered, "Can I show you something that might help? My library—I can show you there—"

Drowning out the rest of his words over a rush of blood pumping through her body, (Y/N) stared at him. Her insides twisted as he took in more and more of him. Her father had always said that with her head so far up in the clouds, the fall was going to shatter her when it happened. It appeared that fall was happening now.

Was he really a demon like the church women said? Was he the predator that committed those heinous acts scattered about the woods? Warnings had been everywhere: the way she was drawn to him like a moth to a singing flame, the way he reeled her in wish his unmatched beauty, and the way everyone around her seemed to know better. She had willingly walked into the lion's den, though there was no telling what kind of beast had truly laid claim to the territory. She was nothing but a stray bunny, a lamb separated from the flock, that had witless fallen into a trap.

"(Y/N)," Harry said, his voice cutting through her whirling thoughts, "Please. Don't be afraid of me." She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, his features tight with shining eyes. "I promised you, remember? That I would never harm you. You said you believed me."

Despite how disconnected she wanted to be, (Y/N) felt something in her chest crack as she listened to him. She was scared and confused, overwhelmed by the unknown that was standing in the room with her, but there was still the person she did know there as well. And that person looked heartbroken.

"I just don't understand," she whimpered, fearing the volume of her own voice.

A spark returned to him then, hearing her response. "I can explain," he said, stepping away from her towards a pitch black chaise lining the wall, "Give me a moment, and I will explain as much as I can."

She was sure she was meant to take his lead, joining him on the velvet cushion, but her feet didn't allow more than a drag. She wanted to understand him, but she could understand him just fine without crawling in his lap. Instead, (Y/N) followed him far enough to watch as he took his seat from where she stood a meter away.

"(Y/N)—"

"Tell me," she started, her voice bursting through before she had given much permission, "Are you—... You're not human, are you?"

Her words hung in the air between them, echoing through the too big, too silent ballroom. She didn't need to hear him to know what his answer was.

"No. I'm not."

Harry had his eyes fixed on her, watching for every reaction she gave. (Y/N) wished she could have been stoic like the elder women of the village, or less reactionary like her sister, instead she was an open book doling out every reaction on a silver platter for him to consume. While she had been expecting as such, her head would never—could never—comprehend the answer he gave.

"I am what is called a vampyr," he cautiously continued after a moment.

With her mouth agape, she watched him, waiting for more of an explanation than some unknown word.

"What does that even mean?" she peeped when he said nothing more.

This time, Harry avoided her eyes as he searched for the right words. He leant forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees as he dropped his gaze to center on the glossy floor. Only if he peeked through his lashes could he see her.

"It means," he started, a heavy breath pushing his lungs to expand, "That, I am dead. But, I am able to be among the living."

The edges of (Y/N)'s vision began to swirl as she tried to comprehend what he was so simply serving to her.

Dead.

Harry is dead. But, here he was, living and breathing, blinking with his heart steady in his chest, right in front of her.

She breathlessly tried to ask for more information, though barely any thought came from her mouth. "Wh-W—Dead?"

Flicking his head up, Harry hesitantly matched her eyes. "My heart no longer beats, but, still, here I am," he offered, tone gentle and forgiving, "I don't know how it's possible, but I've been existing this way for a long time. I don't understand it either, (Y/N)."

Her lungs felt stunted as she couldn't help her own eyes from dropping to his chest, where any normal human's heart would be pumping blood through full veins. She thought, if she waited long enough ,started hard enough, that she could prove him wrong somehow. What if Harry had it all wrong, that he had been convinced by someone—something—that he wasn't like anyone else? Here she could prove to him (and herself) that his heart was beating and he was alive and everything she had slowly been putting together was nothing more than the effects of too much wine and an overactive imagination.

Alas, there was no bold evidence that his heart was hammering against his chest as hers was. Instead, he was silently still, skin pale and chilled.

She fell to the ground then, her dress fanning around her form with her hands limp in her lap. Looking at Harry with pleading eyes, she wanted nothing more than for this to be a cruel joke.

"Bu—Harry?"

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry closed his eyes, unable to continue watching as she crumbled under the weight of the truth.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't have any answers on why or how," he started, feeling as pained as she, "All I know is that I woke up this way after a night I can't remember, and have been attempting to figure it out since."

She canted her head, observing him as he sat with his eyes shuttered. "But you... You don't look dead?"

This seemed to be the wrong question to ask as he dropped his head, leaving (Y/N) from gleaning anything from his expression. "There are things I need to be able to maintain myself or I would wither away like any other person, but..."

"It's complicated?" (Y/N) finished for him, feeling the lame weight of the explanation on her tongue.

Harry nodded his head, keeping his gaze down. "It's complicated."

(Y/N) base level instincts wanted her to run, bolt from the castle and make her way back home in a puddle of tears and seek out the shelter of her father. Harry's half-explanations and full deceptions should be enough of a warning sign to compliment the red flags others around her had seen and pushed her to acknowledge.

Despite it all, as she sat, watching him wrestle with his speaking his own words as much as she was hearing them, she made no move to leave. Maybe she hadn't completely crashed down just yet, because she swore the longer she sat here, streaks of intrigue and curiosity sparked through her head.

Besides, through the muck and the revelations slowly sweeping over her, a near silent thought in the back of her head reminded her that he promised he'd never hurt her. If he had truly wanted to harm her, he would have done it by now, right?

"What do you mean that it's complicated?" she asked before she had even given permission for her thoughts to float around the room.

"I have had to do things—things I am not proud of—to be able to stay alive—or whatever I am. But, I am trying to move past them and grow into something more," he told her, his words turning into a plea as he finally matched her gaze, "I promise I am different now."

That base instinct inside of her triggered a gut feeling (Y/N) couldn't ignore. Flashes of the woman she found in the woods blinked through her memory, her nightmares intermingling with the grotesque sight.

"The people in the woods," she murmured, unsure of what she wanted out of bringing this up. She wasn't asking, but she hoped Harry had an answer for her, though she feared what that might be.

Harry looked to her with a clear gaze, his shoulders sloping in defeat. He looked pained as he fought to pick out the right words for her. "That is not me," he told her, though he looked far from finished, "But, it's who I used to be. I have not done... that in a very long time, but Mitchell—m-my footman—he-he's trying to learn. He doesn't know how to contain himself yet, but he will."

Vividly, (Y/N) could recall the sight of the bloodless corpse, all color leached from the woman's features. The frayed column of her throat, ripped out of the way in favor of the flesh and muscle underneath. The woman had been deliberately stowed away, carefully placed after being mauled and used until she had nothing left to give. The memory warped until Harry was standing over the woman's body, blood cascading down his mouth and soiling his clothing

A shudder wracked down her spine.

She remembered thinking just how impossible it would be for a human to do what she had seen.

"You've done that to others before?" she whispered, fearing how badly her voice would crack if she attempted anything louder.

Hanging his head in shame, Harry nodded his head. "It's been almost a hundred years, but yes."

A hundred years.

Harry on the outside was a young man, not the kind of person that spoke of decades of his life out in the world. He showed no age, and yet, he didn't hesitate before offering a number.

She had thought it was wild just how much he seemed to have travelled while being so young.

(Y/N)'s world turned on its head then. She must have really downed the wine during dinner. Maybe even the scent of the wisteria and the foxglove had worked its way into her brain and was taking more and more of her sanity.

She had to leave.

Stumbling to her feet, (Y/N) swallowed around her dry through, her breathing coming in concerning puffs with her corset tight around her torso.

"I need to go," she told him breathlessly, "I-I—I'm sorry, I need to leave."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started out of the ballroom. She needed space, this castle was too small, the walls too tight, the corset digging in too deep. She had made it just to the double doors before she was aware of Harry's presence behind her, his steps silent over the floor.

"(Y/N), wait," he pleaded, "I can explain everything, I-I promise. I've never had to explain to anyone who didn't already understand, but I'll learn, please give me a chance."

Her pacing never wavered as she burst out of the ballroom, hustling through the winding halls and gloomy decor until she found herself heading towards the front door. The pounding of her feet over the glossy flooring matched that of the beating in her chest, her ribs sore and lungs aching.

Just as she placed her hand on the door, aiming to push it open and allow herself to spill into the night, a cold hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"(Y/N), wai—"

Twirling around, (Y/N) startled with a gasp ripping through her throat. On instinct, the vision of the corpse in the woods in the back of her mind, she cupped her hand over her neck as if that could stop him from ripping it out.

Harry's hand dropped from her shoulder immediately, his gaze dropping to where she had protectively clutched her throat. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession, a whimper involuntarily dropping from her lips.

He crumbled at the sight, despair washing over his features. (Y/N) didn't know what to do as he fell to his knees, looking up at her with glittering eyes, more and more shatters of green appearing. His fingers clutched at his waistcoat, skin turning bone white from the strength.

"(Y/N)," he almost cried, "I—You have to believe me. I would never hurt you, you know that. Please, please don't be scared of me." Glittering tears pooled in his eyes. "I am more devoted to you than I think I even realized, I would sooner sacrifice myself than let anything hurt you. Please, just... I don't want to frighten you, I'm sorry."

She was rooted in her spot as she heard his pleas over the rushing of blood in her ears. Under her palm, she could feel her pulse thrumming in her neck.

What kind of predator was he, to crumble and bow before his prey? No vulnerability could be shown during the hunt, even from the most skilled of hunters. And yet, if Harry were the lion here, the one stalking and waiting for the moment to strike, he was doing a poor job of keeping the upper hand. With the way they were positioned—(Y/N) with her back to the door, knob under her other hand, and Harry at his knees before her,—she could easily escape before he had a chance to do anything more than to grasp at her gown before the material inevitably slipped from his hands.

He'd had plenty of better—easier—opportunities to hurt her. Tonight alone, when he dipped her low, neck on display, as they danced in the ballroom, he could have easily made her into one of the many found in the woods. Instead, he had held her carefully, skimming his nose over the skin in an affectionate touch before pulling her to his chest. Countless times prior—the night in the storm, when she had slept so soundly in that bedroom, the night walking alone through town—he could have stolen her away without a single soul to witness.

Instead, he had cared for her. He put her somewhere safe to wait out the storm and sleep off her panic. He had ensured she hadn't walked home alone in the dark with a rowdy tavern bubbling with drunk patrons. He had treated her like royalty all night, never once looking down on her should she not know the proper etiquette. Even now, he was pleading with her to please understand him, that he had never wanted to simply scare her.

For a moment, she wished she could have seen what this looked like to a spectator. She wanted to know if all of her emotions were seen as plainly on her face as she felt them in her chest. The comedown was gradual and mind-clearing, but Harry stayed right where he was, patiently awaiting any kind of response she could give him.

(Y/N) had the upper hand here.

Lowering her hand from her throat, her shoulders dropped into a declining slope. Unpinching her features while her lungs evened out.

"I am overwhelmed, I think," she told him, swallowing down the thick lump in the throat, "And, confused. But I believe you."

Relief came over him at once, his posture slumping as he collected himself. A beat passed before he rose to his feet, exhaustion touching at his unblemished features.

"Thank you," he breathed, looking at her with a clear gaze and unguarded expression, "I understand. I was confused once too—it's not easy to comprehend." Wetting his lips, he tipped his chin with the downturned eyes of a scolded pup. "Perhaps, I can ready the carriage for you to make it home, and rest for the remainder of the night. And, if you are still open to seeing me again, I will give you whatever answers I have to anything you want to know."

Too many trains of thought were passing through her head at the moment, keeping (Y/N) from giving him a clear answer. While she was sure right now that she wanted to know everything about what he was and who he was, explore the half-truths she had learned, there was no telling what kind of clarity the morning would bring.

"Okay," she answered quietly, not wanting to give anything more away until she knew more. She made a move to step around him to which Harry caught on and allowed a wider berth for her to pass. "Let me change, and then I will be ready to leave."

"You don't have to do that," Harry stopped her, his sullen expression returning with delicate heartbreak, "The gown is yours. You can keep it."

When she offered him a small smile, she could see the pieces of him mending back together. "I think this may be a bit hard to travel in and hide from my father, that's all," she told him, shooting her palms over the skirt, "I will have to come by to collect it another time."

It was like watching the sunrise the way a smile bloomed over Harry's features, dazzling and hopeful.

"Another time, then."

—————

From the carriage ride, to trekking back to her room, and finally settling in bed after doing her nightly ritual, (Y/N) had been left alone with her thoughts.

No one had caught her, that much she knew from the fact her father was still snoring in the other room and the tavern was still bustling with no attention paid in her direction. At least, she didn't have to worry about that. That way, her head could be filled with endless questions.

No matter how scared she had been in the moment at the castle, (Y/N) knew that she was never in any real danger. She didn't understand Harry and who he was revealing himself to be, and she doubted she ever truly would, but she knew in her heart that he was never going to harm her. The kind of man that would rather sit and speak, drop to his knees with words of devotion, couldn't be that much of a monster, could he?

Confusion muddled her thoughts. Every time she reassured herself, she heard glimpses of the word Dead wrapped in his voice, detailing out just how his heart was still in his chest. She saw the memory of the dead woman in the woods, and the countless others she had been spared of seeing with her own eyes. While he may not be the culprit of these bodies, he had been once.

It was an odd thing, the curiosity she felt.

She wanted to know him. She wanted to be close to the man that she had met and practically courted with these last weeks. She wanted that man and had allowed her heart to stake a claim on him. But, she was confused with the part of him he shared tonight.

Staring at her ceiling, (Y/N) attempted to reconcile everything she knew.

Those two facets of him could both be true, she thought. He could be the kind of creature that had done things she didn't want to fathom, while also being the kind of man that she had sought out and had embraced her in those small ways. Tonight, she had feared a threat that had been brought about by the unknown and the lack of understanding she had around him, but never once was the real Harry the thing that had frightened her.

She could be comforted and confused by him at the same time, too.

A rustle from the herb garden had (Y/N) tentatively peering out her window.

Amongst the leaves and bundles was the moon-eyed cat. The same one that she had last seen in Harry's arms.

She was going to speak to him again, she decided. There was more she had to know about him and her heart wasn't ready to shy away from him yet.

—————

when the flower of hemlock is consumed, it can poison the lungs and cause death through suffocation.

ahhhhhh! the ballroom scene was the first thing that came to mind and inspired me to write this whole piece so that was a lot of fun to come together and I really hope you guys like it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas or whatever you want to share please sent them in!

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neptuneiris · 8 months

Text

brooklyn baby (01/?)

i've got my eye on you

pairing: rockstar!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you go with your cousins to a concert of the band "Dragon Dynasty" in Brooklyn, although you are not a fan of the band, the guitarist catches your attention.

word count: 7.7k

series masterlist • next part

hello beautiful people, here I am again with a new fic! I'm so happy and very excited to start this, I hope you like it a lot, that you enjoy it and I'm looking forward to your support and your comments that I always love to answer:) seriously you guys are amazing!

I still don't know how many chapters this story will have but it won't be more than 10, so wait for them. thank you very much for reading loves, enjoy!

warnings: none yet.

He is so majestic.

It's the first thing you think when the band finally comes out on stage and the concert starts, causing the screams of a bunch of girls all around you all over the place, all of them joined by your cousins, Baela and Rhaena.

You don't even understand how the three of you managed to make it to the front, just Baela and Rhaena acted in survival mode and started dragging you all over the place, making their way through the crowd to get face to face with all the band members.

And now… you're sure that by the time this is all over, tomorrow the two of them won't have a voice because of all the screaming.

At first you thought it would just be another band that doesn't have a big audience and that even though it's a band you don't know, you'd still have a good time. Although it's not like it was an option not to come, your cousins literally forced you to.

However, you're surprised to see that the place is full and all the girls are going crazy, as well as your cousins already made sure to tell you all about the band, tell you what you need to know and show you their favorite songs all the way here.

Basically the band, Dragon Dynasty, just debuted at the end of last year and is already getting some pretty good recognition.

And not only for the music, but also for the appearance… peculiar, of all the members.

When Rhaena showed you pictures of all of them, either as a group or individually, you understood the obsession of both of them. They all have platinum hair and look as if they had stepped out of the very palace of the Greek Gods, all absolutely attractive and very sexy.

And now seeing them in person, just a few feet away from you, is very different from seeing them in their social media photos.

The lead singer, Aegon Targaryen, is the one who introduces all the band members and starts the concert. And every time he approaches the edge of the stage, the girls again scream, as they scream at every verse he sings.

Then Rhaena records and focuses more on the bass player, Luke, with his short platinum hair and sitting on one of the speakers, focused on his notes. While Baela, of course, focuses on the drummer named Jace, Luke's older brother.

You understand from the great information your cousins gave you about all of them that they are all brothers, except that Jace and Luke are cousins of the vocalist Aegon, the piano guy and the guy who plays the electric guitar, the last three being brothers.

You focus for a moment on the piano guy, who from Baela's information, he is the same age as Jace. He definitely has an incredible resemblance to his brothers and from time to time he smiles towards the crowd, or rather towards the girls, who of course scream and go completely crazy with those simple gestures.

But when you look at him… the guitarist… you immediately can't take your eyes off him.

When your cousins showed you the pictures of all of them, it was precisely him who caught your attention the most of all, Aemond Targaryen.

At first you thought that his pictures with that aesthetic on him were just for the band, as a way to draw attention, however, Rhaena explained to you that he doesn't really have a left eye.

In some photos he has a black patch on and in some others he doesn't, so instead there is a shiny ocean blue stone, like a sapphire, inside where his eye should be. And when Rhaena explained to you that this is how he really lives, it definitely caught your attention a lot more.

But not only for that, also for his style of clothes, whether they were black or black with white, as well as his expressions in the photos did not really show much.

In all of them he didn't look at the camera, he was always looking away with a serene and serious look at the same time, to show himself in the same way every time he looked at the camera with his guitar at all times and his platinum hair long and completely loose.

And now to see him in person… he still looks the same way, serious and completely focused on his guitar, except for his brothers and cousins who focus on the audience from time to time, but not him.

And just like that, you can't take your eyes off of him, as if he were an invisible attractive force, delighted by the way he focuses on playing his notes, his fingers moving across the strings and his bare arms showing you some tattoos on his pale skin.

Everything about him… it's just alluring, sexy, mysterious and at the same time… dangerous, as if it's not right to involve you somehow with him, but being so striking and exciting at the same time.

"They're great, huh?"

Baela shouts to you over the music, with a huge excited smile, as you nod, really unable to stop focusing on him.

"Yes, they are."

Actually the band is really good, regardless of the looks of the members, because what looks.

The songs are like a mix of Arctic Monkeys, The Neighbourhood, Cigarettes After Sex and some Lana del Rey type instrumentals, they also have more danceable songs in the style of The 1975, but all with cool guitar and drum instrumentals.

You really like them, the style of their music is to your liking, but again… you can't help but focus on him.

The concert lasts a little more than an hour, where during some little intermissions, you saw how he was lighting a cigarette and playing the guitar at the same time, so it was more and more impossible to take your eyes off him, listening how sometimes the girls were shouting his name and he was greeting them back with a simple nod of his head, that being enough to drive them crazy.

And by the time everything ends, the vocalist Aegon starts to say goodbye to all the members with an euphoria and an energy that he gave off all over the audience so that they would react in the same way.

"I want to hear loud cheers for our drummer, Jace!"

Baela screams like crazy next to you, leaving you completely stunned, as well as more girls around you, while the mentioned stands up from his seat and waves goodbye to all of them, smiling.

"To our pianist, my little brother, Daeron!"

More shouts, as he also waves goodbye with his hands and with a charming and flirtatious smile to all the girls, moving closer to the stage, that making many girls come closer to the edge, wanting to touch him, as he laughs and takes several of them by the hand.

"To our bassist, Luke!"

Rhaena is now the one who leaves you stunned from your left ear, as more girls shout, while the boy smiles and looks a little shy, looking very cute, waving goodbye to all of them with his hand, then lowering his gaze with his cheeks slightly blushing.

You see how Aemond next to him gives him a friendly tap on his shoulder, watching him with a small half smile and looking somewhat amused by his behavior, that catching your attention a lot, since you didn't see him smile much towards his audience.

"Now for our guitarist, Aemond!"

You clap, but don't shout, seeing how immediately the place is filled with screams and more applause, realizing that even though he's not very expressive and doesn't react much to the audience, still the girls are completely crazy about him.

And you don't blame them, it's obvious that's because of how incredibly handsome and sexy that man is.

However, even so he doesn't react much again to his applause, only waves goodbye with one of his hands, really watching everyone expressionless, reading on his lips as he says "thank you" and then turns around and picks up a bottle of water.

You bite your lips, still watching him, when finally Aegon gives the closing.

"And at last your server, ladies!" says the vocalist in a flirtatious manner, again the place exploding in cheers, "That's been all Brooklyn, thank you so much for having us. See you next time, we love you guys!"

He does get closer to the audience, instantly the guards react to take care of him, while he takes everyone's hands and also takes some bracelets or necklaces that the girls give him, while he smiles and blows kisses.

The rest of the members start to leave the stage, while Aegon continues to take all the screams and those little gifts, really getting along very well with the audience, to finally after a few moments, say goodbye and leave the stage.

"Did you like them?"

Rhaena asks you as the three of them stand, waiting for all the other girls to leave the not so big but not so small club.

"Yes, their songs are fine," you nod to her.

"Their songs or the guitarist rather?" Baela asks you with a mischievous look.

"Oh come on," you give her a look of few friends, still nerves giving you away.

"I knew it!" squeals Rhaena with a huge smile, "I knew you weren't more asking about him than the others for nothing."

"And I don't blame you," adds Baela, "With those tattoos who wouldn't be crazy about him?"

"But you like Jace and he doesn't have tattoos."

"Aemond is fine, like exaggeratedly fine," she clarifies, "But I feel like I wouldn't stand a chance with him, plus he's too serious and too closed off for my taste," she explains.

"But Y/N did like him," Rhaena says, folding her arms, watching you with a huge smile.

You roll your eyes, amused.

"I think the same as Baela, I feel like I wouldn't be able to get close to him, he looks very… serious and distant," you say finally, " Beside it's not like I'm going to get the chance, he's just a guy in a band that I liked, just like I like Harry and Zayn from One Direction or Alex Turner from Arctic Monkeys."

"Oh he's so hot," Rhaena says with a little giggle.

"Who of the three of them?" asks Baela.

"The three of them."

You nod, more than agreeing with her.

"Anyway…" says Balea, "Turning our focus back to this band, maybe you can get close to the sexy guitarist tonight."

"Hm?" you say instantly not understanding, looking at her confused.

Then from her bag Baela pulls out what appear to be three rectangular sheets of paper, but when you look closely, they are actually three tickets to who knows what.

"These are tickets to the band's after party," she says excitedly.

At first you don't finish processing anything, watching her like a fool, when Rhaena squeals more than happy and in disbelief, instantly grabbing you both by the arm to rush out of the club in the direction of the party, while you're still processing and asking Baela how she got those tickets.

"Savings," she tells you simply and without much explanation.

Leaving the club is a bit difficult because of all the other girls who are also trying to leave, when the three of you are already arriving at the corresponding small pub where the after party will be, which in fact is right behind the club where the band gave the concert, so getting there doesn't take any time at all.

Once outside the pub, there are other girls waiting to get in, all excited and impatient, some of them have their own band t-shirts and posters for the band to sign. And at the entrance there are two huge men, asking for tickets and complying with security protocol to let them in.

"Help me take a picture with Luke when it's my turn, please," Rhaena asks you.

"Sure."

"Me too," Baela says instantly, "With Jace."

"Okay," you tell her amused.

Then finally all three of you hand the tickets to the seemingly bodyguard, only to enter without any trouble as you go through security protocols as well.

Rhaena shakes you by the arm excitedly, trying to control herself, as the three of you walk into the place, where you instantly recognize those platinum hairs spread all over the pub, already receiving the fans.

The place is considerably spacious, it doesn't feel as suffocating as at the concert and there's definitely more room to move around despite the fact that more girls are constantly coming in to meet the guys.

The bar is free, there is light rock music playing in the background and there are more bodyguards watching out.

You see how all the fans line up and wait their turn with each respective member, being the first to recognize the vocalist, Aegon, who more than smiling signs T-shirts, posters, hats and even phone cases. Also the pianist, Daeron, who takes selfies and also signs.

But when Rhaena identifies Luke, she quickly squeals and prepares to go to him with her T-shirt ready to be signed by him in hand, as does Baela, focusing on Jace.

You walk Rhaena over first, promising Baela to keep an eye out for her for when it's her turn with Jace, then start lining up, trying to calm your cousin's nerves as you sense she'll throw up at any moment or be unable to speak coherently to the bassist.

Then when Rhaena gets distracted on her phone, setting up the camera for pictures, you instantly think of the guitarist and start looking for him.

However, the only ones you see are Aegon, Daeron, Luke and Jace, with no fifth long platinum hair. Confused, you go back over the whole place, really him nowhere to be seen, realizing that there are girls specifically with posters of him, also just like you looking for him, all of them confused and disappointed.

And you don't understand, isn't he supposed to be here too?

You find it strange that out of all of them, it is him especially who doesn't make any appearance, while all the other members do attend to their fans, apparently not worried about the absence of their guitarist or anyone else actually, just the fans.

Inevitably you also start to get disappointed, but you immediately focus on Rhaena, as her turn will be soon and she insists that you help her calm down, giving her encouragement and support.

When the time comes.

The boy, Luke, is actually very sweet, instantly giving his full attention to Rhaena, who acts just as shy as he is, looking excited as the two gently embrace, while he asks her name and introduces himself to her as well.

He signs her T-shirt, also her phone case, all while they both talk, to then move on to the selfie and finally the photo, while you watch with a small smile as the boy's cheeks blush and Rhaena is more than excited and nervous at the same time, hugging him and smiling for the photo.

"This is my cousin, by the way, Y/N," Rhaena shyly introduces you to him as they both separate.

"Oh, hi Y/N, I'm Luke," the boy says to you with a charming smile, not being able to cause you more tenderness, "Thanks for coming."

"Hi," you say smiling, "Nice to meet you, Luke."

You take advantage of the moment and also take a selfie with him and Rhaena, where the three of you come out all smiles, without his cheeks stop blushing, and then pass the next fan.

Rhaena can't stop smiling, again shaking your arm excitedly and on the verge of collapsing with happiness, as she quickly goes through the photos, announcing that she will upload them to her Instagram stories this instant.

You laugh and then she heads off to line up to meet Daeron now, while you now head to Baela.

Unlike with Rhaena and Luke, you can clearly identify your cousin's flirting methods and surprisingly Jace reacts completely to her, looking just as flirty as she does, talking in her ear and both of them very close to each other.

You take their picture and get excited for your cousin, seeing how both of them even after the picture talk to each other, still very close, with that clear interest in the body behavior of both of them, but more of him towards her.

And you don't blame him either, no doubt your cousins are very beautiful, you always tell them every day and they tell you too.

At the end Baela also introduces you with Jace, he also looking very nice and friendly like his little brother, just not as cute, but very sexy.

Then after finishing with Jace, Baela turns to Rhaena, getting her in line to meet Daeron where both of them will now help each other with the pictures, so you head to the bar, taking a seat on one of the stools, observing everything and taking the opportunity to order a free drink.

"Can I have a gin and tonic, please?" you ask the bar tender.

"Of course," the man says politely.

While he prepares your drink, you take the opportunity to check your social media, entertaining yourself for a moment and also looking at the time, realizing that it's almost midnight, so you'll probably be home by two in the morning.

You let out a long breath and at that moment the bar tender hands you the gin and tonic, you thank him and start drinking, relaxing and keeping your eye on your cousins.

When at that moment you remember him again, Aemond, so hopefully you look around the place again, looking for him, but you are surprised to see that there is still no sign of him, really confusing you.

The girls who were also looking for him before, line up to take pictures with Aegon, but like you, they also seem to be looking for him, without success.

It continues to seem weird to you and you feel really disappointed, just realizing in that instant how terribly disappointed you are, as if you've been a fan of his for months, when you've only just met him tonight, telling yourself what the hell is wrong with you.

So time passes, you watch as your cousins after meeting Daeron, head to Aegon, nothing really being quick as they take their time with each fan, until you finish your gin and tonic, not ordering anything else as you must be driving and stand at the bar, waiting.

It's until a few minutes later that you decide to go to the restroom, asking the bar tender where they are and he points you to a hallway at the back, instantly thanking him and heading that way.

You see how in the hallway there are four doors and you head to the two at the back, having the signs for the women's restroom and men's restroom, but when you try to open the door, it doesn't open, being occupied, realizing that it's only one restroom instead of several.

You let out a long breath, as this is common in small pubs, having to wait in the hallway, leaning against the wall for the girl inside to come out.

Again you distract yourself with your phone, holding back the urge to pee, trying not to get desperate, glancing from time to time through the hallway entrance at all the girls out there, being able to see your cousins from this distance, not long before it's their turn to meet Aegon.

You bite your lips and continue to wait, when as you are leaning between the wall and under the frame of one of the other doors that you have no idea where they go, it suddenly opens and you almost lose your balance, stabilizing yourself instantly and moving away, watching the person with some surprise and shame.

When the nerves and the surprise invade you completely, seeing that it is him, the guitarist.

He really looks at you without any expression on his face, while you place the appropriate distance between the two of you in this small hallway, still looking at him surprised and like an idiot, instantly telling yourself off to act normal, still watching him carefully.

And how could you not? The man is absolutely beautiful.

Compared to the concert, you have him face to face, his features being more than perfectly visible, admiring the shape of his lips and nose, as if it had been carefully carved, then nervously observing his intense blue eye and his sapphire eye, looking amazing and beautiful to you.

Then you quickly observe his various tattoos on both arms, recognizing a musical note, tree branches, birds, a moon and other figures you don't instantly identify, but you notice perfectly how he has a dragon on his shoulder.

Again you look him in the eye, getting instantly nervous because he is already watching you intensely, looking away from him because of the same nerves, having no idea how to really react since he doesn't move, neither do you and you feel unable to speak, feeling a lump in your throat.

He is simply too handsome and too sexy.

You think in the midst of all your nervousness, when the two of you are simply there, not far away but not too close either, suddenly feeling the hallway too small and feeling out of nowhere suffocated, not understanding what's wrong with you.

"Are there many people out there?"

He asks you suddenly, definitely not expecting that, as he stands still in the doorway, watching you, while you barely process the sound of his voice, watching him like an idiot for a moment.

React!

Your mind reprimands you, really not wanting to embarrass yourself with him, much less when he's just asked you something.

You clear your throat and control yourself, to look back towards the center of the pub, where there are indeed a lot of girls and there are many especially who want to see him. You bite your lips and return your nervous, attentive gaze to him, realizing that he hasn't even come out into the hallway, keeping himself hidden in that room.

"Yes," you finally say to him, trying to sound like a normal person, not letting your nerves completely get the better of you.

He lets out a long breath, then averts his gaze from yours and you watch as he carefully peeks out of the doorframe, this catching your attention, as he inspects everything and honestly looks a little irritated, which you don't understand why.

And at that moment you don't know if you should, considering he still wants to keep himself hidden, but also Baela's voice tells you: bitch, take advantage and talk to him, you literally have him right in front of you!

Yes, that's something she would tell you if she saw you now.

"You're not a fan of being among so many people?"

You ask him softly, overcoming your nerves, but again you feel your heart leap in your chest as he looks at you again.

"Not much," he answers you.

And at that moment, you only admire more of his handsome features he offers you as you stand face to face with his profile, actually making you very nervous. And his answer actually makes sense to you.

He on stage is very calm and quiet, so now having to be among all the fans, it really doesn't seem to be his strongest suit.

"Still a lot of girls are looking forward to seeing you," you tell him softly, "They all look very excited."

You see how he frowns a bit, not saying anything back to you, which alerts you a bit since you really don't want to ruin this opportunity by talking to him, even though it seems you already have, but… what did you say wrong?

He continues to look at you like that, so intensely, when then you see perfectly how he looks you up and down, definitely making you more nervous than before, and then you see how he puts his hands in his front pockets and leans on the door frame casually.

The image couldn't have infarcted you more, as he does everything in a calculated manner, movements so simple that they already completely steal your breath away, only for him to tilt his head and continue watching you with that intensity, but now also curious.

"And you don't?"

He asks you with that soft but so manly voice that makes you part your lips, completely weakening your legs, watching him for a moment without understanding while he watches you expectantly, but still with that sexy demeanor.

"You weren't expecting to see me?"

Oh my God.

You think, unable to answer him, your voice right now not working, much less when he continues with his burning gaze in your direction, now having no idea how to behave.

However, you know you must be behaving like a fool in his eye, so you force yourself to answer him but truthfully.

"Actually," you start to say, trying to control your nerves, "I'm waiting for the person in the restroom to come out," you point your gaze to the door, to again watch him.

Then he too watches the restroom door for a moment, to again focus on you, watching perfectly as he presses his lips together in a soft, thin line and then you see what appears to be a small, barely visible grin appear.

And even though you didn't see him smile much during the concert, nor does he do it in his band's promotional photos, now that you see him do it and only meters away from you, the man couldn't look more beautiful to you.

"Hm," is all he says, turning back to watching you like that, his gaze completely attentive and burning, all his attention on you.

Holy shit.

That's all you can think, watching him without taking your eyes off him, just as he does with you, again feeling the space suddenly very small and the air hot.

When suddenly, you see perfectly well how he opens his mouth to say something, taking a step forward, calling your full attention, but at the moment he does that, a girl at the beginning of the hallway shouts his name at the sight of him.

And that's when chaos breaks out.

The girl quickly heads towards him, excited, instantly being followed by a bunch of other girls, all holding caps and t-shirts for him to sign, wasting no time and completely breaking the spell between the two of you.

You watch Aemond again and he's already watching you, but instantly he starts giving attention to all the girls, being surrounded by all of them, to which you can't help but feel disappointed because the moment is over, since... you don't know what the fuck was going on a few seconds ago with him but you were enjoying it.

When at that moment the door to the women's restroom finally opens, a girl coming out of it but now being difficult to get back to the center of the pub because of Aemond and all his girls obstructing the way.

You head for the restroom, suddenly feeling that same attentive and burning gaze on your back again for a few seconds as you close the door behind you. You take all the time in the world, trying to calm your heart rate and trying to stop feeling your hot skin, processing what happened out there with him, really taking a considerable amount of time.

You realize you need Baela's advice, thinking about texting her right now and getting her to give you techniques so you don't get nervous, but you doubt she'll text back if she's still getting to know the rest of the members of the band.

However, you don't know if you should ask Aemond for a picture or not, not being very sure about it, but you know that if you don't ask him for a picture or an autograph, you will regret it tomorrow.

You let out a sigh, looking at yourself in the mirror and telling yourself that you have to control, that you shouldn't act like a fool and that you should behave as normal as possible, not letting your nerves get the better of you.

In the end you don't text anyone, you gather your courage and finally come out of the restroom.

The first thing you see is how Aemond is still there, only now with few girls, in fact finishing signing an autograph for them, to which you watch him carefully and attentively, again having no idea whether to go back to the center of the pub to find your cousins and get their advice before going back to him or ask for his autograph here, taking advantage of it.

But you don't even have anything he can sign for you, except your phone case.

However, the time to think and decide is over when the girls take a picture with him and then start to walk away, all of them looking at him with that excited gaze and of complete desire, while Aemond looks at them one last time and... he watches you again.

And there you have your nerves again, but you don't let them get the better of you, lowering your gaze for a moment, thinking quickly about what to say to him, feeling again that tension between the two of you now that you are alone again in this small hallway.

And at this, Aemond decides to act fast, considering the after party isn't over yet.

"Do you want me to sign something for you?"

He asks you while directing all his attention towards you, with those fucking movements he makes that aren't that big of a deal but completely steal your breath, standing completely still and watching him carefully.

Talk, act, react!

Your fed up and annoyed mind tells you, also Baela's voice if she saw you at this moment, so that's what you do, however, again you respond with the truth and with shame.

"Yes, I'd love to," you look at him nervous, "But I don't really have anything for you to sign."

"You bought tickets to our after party and you didn't bring anything the band can sign for you?"

Oh God.

You think on the verge of collapsing in embarrassment, as he again looks at you between slightly confused and curious.

"Well, I didn't know my cousin had bought tickets to meet you. It was actually her and my other cousin who brought me to the concert," you explain, trying not to show how really nervous you are, as he tilts his head in your direction.

"So you're not a fan," he assumes and you're so embarrassed that he's right.

"But... you were still amazing tonight," you tell him instantly, being terribly honest, "I liked your music and will definitely listen to it often."

He nods slowly in your direction, apparently now understanding you, watching you even with that curiosity and again that small, barely visible grin appearing on his lips, watching him run you from head to toe, not being able to make you any more nervous than you already are.

"Hm," he says in nod, "That explains why you didn't jump on me the second I opened the door."

You let out a nervous little laugh, looking away from him for a second.

"Disappointed?" you ask him a bit amused.

"Just a little."

You smile softly in his direction, not showing your teeth, as he continues to make you nervous and make you feel as if the space between you is very short and the air is hot as he continues to watch you like that, as if inspecting you and as if he wants to see right through you.

However, you know that the moment can be broken at any moment if more girls come looking for him, so you don't get your hopes up too high. When suddenly he averts his gaze and points you to the door through which he left a few moments ago.

"It's our break room," he tells you, "There are new t-shirts and posters in there, if you want I can sign one of them and give it to you."

Oh my...

You feel the excitement run through you, definitely not expecting that, starting to feel your heart rate accelerate, but you instantly get yourself under control and tell yourself that no way are you going to pass up the opportunity.

"Well, if it's no problem," you nod to him.

He starts backing away, as he heads for the door.

"Come."

And you don't hesitate to follow him.

He opens the door for you, watching you intently and again with that intensity, to which you again feel like your heart will probably jump out of your chest, from excitement and also from nerves, to finally enter the room.

You don't even know why but a shiver runs through your whole body, bristling your skin, as he closes the door behind you and walks past you, his arm gently brushing yours, feeling for an instant his burning skin.

He heads towards a table, while you watch him attentively and take a look at the room, not big but not small either, seeing how there are numerous backpacks, sound equipment, tables, chairs, a couch and also a table with snacks and bottles of water.

There are also the guitar cases, identifying his guitar on the couch, where he was probably sitting playing before, hiding from everyone out there. The noise here is less, you hear more the background music than voices, actually this space being very calm.

"What do you prefer?"

You suddenly hear him say to you, instantly causing you to stop surveying the room and focus on him, who is already watching you intently, pointing out the caps, t-shirts or posters on the table.

"Or do you want all three?" he observes you with that grin.

Focus, Y/N. You can do it.

You tell yourself, not wanting him to affect you any more than he's already affecting you or you'll ruin this moment by letting yourself get carried away by nerves, which is just what you don't want.

So you try not to focus too much on his mannerisms when he's talking to you.

"The shirt is fine," you point out to him.

You're not a big fan of the caps and posters you like but on this occasion... you're going more for the T-shirt.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

You choose the T-shirt in your size while he picks up a pen, then you hand it to him and he starts writing.

"What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeats slowly as he writes it down.

This sends a wave of excitement and nerves throughout your body because of the way he has said it, concentrating on his writing, while you watch him intently, still finding the shape of his face and also his hair majestic, looking more majestic having him right in front of you.

You really don't understand what's wrong with him but God... he's really beautiful.

"So you're not a fan hm?"

He says to you as he finishes signing and hands you the shirt, instantly placing a nervous little smile, taking it.

"Actually no. My cousins brought me, they were both very excited and needed someone to drive."

At this he again looks interested and turns around to lean against the edge of the table casually, crossing his arms, watching you, while you stand next to him and almost have to lift your whole head up to him so you can look him in the eye as you talk.

"You don't live in Brooklyn?"

You shake your head.

"Manhattan."

He frowns slightly.

"Manhattan?"

He repeats and you nod, watching him curiously for a moment as you watch him think in silence for a few seconds, then again watching you curious and confused at the same time.

"And why your cousins didn't buy tickets for the concert we're giving there next Friday?"

"Oh," you go blank for a moment, but react instantly, remembering, "Well, they did want to buy tickets, but they had credit card problems and by the time they fixed it, all the tickets were sold out and they bought the Brooklyn ones," you explain.

He doesn't say anything else to you for a few seconds, watching you intently, as he has been watching you all along, so intently that you feel your legs go weak, to which you nervously avert your gaze from him and look at the T-shirt in your hands, seeing his autograph.

And all you can think about is how crazy Baela and Rhaena will go when you tell them this.

"Pick something for your cousins," he says suddenly, making you look at him again, "I'll sign it too."

"Oh, sure, thanks."

You tell him with a nervous little smile to start choosing, beginning to believe that you'll never really stop feeling nervous in his presence, much less if you're both alone in this room.

For Rhaena you choose a poster for her, as she's a big fan of having lots of them of her favorite artists and sticking them all over her room, while for Baela you also choose a t-shirt.

You notice how Aemond walks away for a moment as you look for Baela's size, then return and begin to sign that for your cousins as well, again watching or rather subtly admiring his face of concentration as he begins to write.

"Here," he gives you everything, finishing.

"Thank you very much,"

You tell him sincerely, as he straightens up completely again, setting the pen down on the table and leaning back against the edge of it.

"You're welcome," he nods in your direction.

You look away, having no idea how to say goodbye to him, you don't even want the moment to end even though his gaze on you makes you feel so nervous, but for obvious reasons, your cousins must already be looking for you and you know he must be out here to attend to more of his fans.

"Hum... then I'll see you... out there, I guess," you smile at him, starting to walk away, "This was very kind of you."

"Wait."

He says to you suddenly, stopping your step, standing in front of him, as you watch him take a few more steps towards you, completely alerting you, but seeing him take a hand to the back of his pants, watching as he takes something from his pocket, confusing you but completely getting your attention.

Then his eye watches you back, his gaze so intense and so penetrating, as you watch him with your lips parted, this suddenly closeness suffocating you too much, not helping anything that the two of you are here alone.

However, he places his hand between the two of you, handing you something and when you look at it, confusion overtakes you further, seeing that they are tickets to his concert as they have the words 'Dragon Dynasty" printed in large letters on them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, next Friday," he says softly, still hand them to you.

And even after explaining, you still don't finish processing anything, as he continues waiting for you to take them, while you continue to stand still and watch him like an idiot, slowly beginning to understand.

"B-but...

"Take them, Y/N," he says again, softly, watching you expectantly.

Take them? Just like that? For free?

You immediately deny, staring at him in confusion.

"No, but... I-I...wait, you...

"It's fine," she assures you, interrupting you.

"But you can't do this or can you?" you ask him totally bewildered and surprised, not believing it.

"Of course I can, in fact I'm doing it now," he tells you as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

But you continue to watch him confused, not understanding why he is doing this with you especially, again feeling the nerves invade you and the hot air hit you mercilessly, not being able to think straight.

"W-what? But...

"What is it?" he asks taking a step closer to you, stopping your heart for a second, "Don't you want to see me again?"

My God...

No. You can't do it anymore. It's right there when you lose it completely.

The way he has asked you, watching you completely attentively and with that barely visible grin, his body starting to invade your personal space, slowly leaning towards you, the space between you both ceasing to exist and all of him embracing you completely.

That delicious manly cologne hits your nostrils, also the slight smell of cigarette, everything about him being so alluring, so sexy, so mysterious and dangerous somehow.

And he does it all in such a calculating way... he doesn't even do it all that fast, he does it all slow, just the way he wants to catch you, while you slowly start to let yourself be carried away by him as well.

With your heart beating too fast, you look at the tickets in his hand and slowly raise your eyes to look at him, when he is already looking at you and just like that.

Don't you want to see me again?

His question repeats in your mind, at that moment no longer taking anything else into account. Because he is clearly flirting with you, and why do you not do the same?

"Do you want to see me again?"

You ask him in your soft, low voice, to which he only leans a little closer to you, that grin returning.

"Isn't it obvious?"

He tells you in the same way, his voice soft, low and completely calculating, his answer surprising and thrilling you, watching perfectly as he watches between your eyes and your lips, his eye completely full of desire, while you do the same.

You wonder what it will feel like to kiss him, how he will reciprocate, if soft or hard and if you will also feel his hands on your body, caressing you.

The atmosphere feels tense somehow, as you both start to invade each other's personal space, at the same time as your hand takes the tickets, all hot air and suddenly feeling that need to touch him, to kiss him, to feel him closer to you.

However, just as the small distance between the two of you starts to disappear, with all his delicious scent and his whole alluring body enveloping you completely, just at that damn moment the door suddenly opens.

You jump all the way back, scared and surprised, as the two of you stare at the door and Aegon is the responsible for the interruption.

"Dude, why are you still here? Cole's going to kill you if you don't come out this instant, you know? It's crazy out there, there's girls crying, they want to see you and you-oh....

He stops talking suddenly, barely in that instant realizing your presence as well even though you're standing next to Aemond, feeling embarrassment run through all your body, as he realizes what was probably going on here when he watches you both with his lips parted, so you lower your gaze in shame and bite your lips.

"My bad, sorry," he says and then slowly places a mischievous smile, now watching you and Aemond continuously, "I interrupted something, didn't I?"

You listen as Aemond clears his throat, no longer feeling the closeness of his body against yours, while you feel the embarrassment more.

"No," he tells him in a more serious voice and nothing compared to how he was speaking to you before.

"Oh," Aegon says again and you pluck up the courage to finally get out of here.

"Thank you," you say to Aemond without even looking at him, hurrying out of the room.

With all the things he signed in your hands and also the tickets, you don't even look at Aegon when you pass by his side, feeling so embarrassed and starting to feel your cheeks very hot, not bearing to be in his presences anymore.

And you don't even look back, you just run away, not being able to believe that you were about to make out with him, the sexy guitarist, Aemond.

You immediately look around like crazy for your cousins, seeing that Baela is taking a picture of Rhaena with Jace, so you quickly head towards them, acting normal, waiting for them to finish and by the time they do, you hand them the t-shirt and the poster.

"Where were you?" asks Baela confused.

"In the restroom and I got this for you," you say without much detail, the memory of Aemond's beautiful face near you still so fresh.

"Why are you so red?" asks you now Rhaena confused.

"I drank a gin and tonic," you lie, acting totally unconcerned with Aemond's lips about to touch yours still present .

"Did you talk to the sexy guitarist?" asks you Baela excited.

"Yes," you say acting unconcerned.

"And?"

"Nothing," you say with a shrug and she looks at you disappointed.

If only she knew.

But nothing ends there. Both of them now want a picture with Aemond even though they already have each his autograph, so you decide to wait again at the bar and they follow you, waiting for him to show up, you for anything in the world wanting to be near him again with your cousins around.

When then Aemond finally comes out of that hallway, appearing in the center of the pub with Aegon by his side, instantly you and him exchanging glances without even expecting it at all. And even with the embarrassment, you quickly avert your gaze from him, as the both begin to be surrounded by more girls, among them your cousins.

You're not sure exactly how much time passes, until finally Baela and Rhaena are satisfied and the three of you leave the pub, with half an hour left before the after party is over, but it's too late now and you have to drive.

However, before the three of you get in the car, you pull out the tickets that Aemond gave you for free and extend them to them.

"These are tickets for the concert in Manhattan, Aemond gave them to me," you say and then head for the driver's seat door, unlocking the doors.

And then all you hear as you start to leave your cousins behind are their screams.

During the whole ride, neither of them leave you alone, wanting to know exactly in detail what happened with the guitarist, Baela more than anything else feeling offended that you lied to her when she asked you if anything happened with him.

But when you tell them about everything and also about how the two of them almost kissed, she doesn't feel upset anymore and screams excitedly together with Rhaena, both surprised and unable to believe it, also unable to believe about the free tickets.

Luckily the questions don't last for the whole ride, so you also have time to think about him, Aemond, everything that happened with him and pretty much everything about him not leaving your thoughts alone as you drive from Brooklyn to Manhattan.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #hotd aemond

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ranaissingle · 1 year

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In My Mind

Masterlist Summary: Reader exists in the same circle as Austin and has been head over heels in love with him for years but she never speaks up over the course of their friendship until a new years party. Rating: T Word Count: 2.1 k ( I swear this was meant to be a short whip I have no idea what happened)

Warnings: Unrequited love lol (can you tell I'm feeling angsty?) A/N: Hey girlies, it's been a hot minute haha. School kinda got in the way and then I had to learn (for the zillionth time) that men ain't shit (besides our lord and savior Austin Butler of course). I quite literally have no inspiration so please do send me some requests. I'm thinking of doing another angst fic about Hanahaki disease... How do we feel?

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When Austin told you he had started dating Vanessa Hudgens you felt like you wanted to die. Yes. Die. The world seemed to close in on you as he continued explaining how they had met and how he had asked her out. Each word was another knife in your throat and every admission of his love for her tore your heart into smaller and smaller pieces.

But you sat there and listened. You listened as he detailed their first kiss, their first date, his confession, and hers to him. It took each ounce of self-control to not get up and scream. Scream at him for not knowing how you felt and scream for the heart that had broken.

But you kept your mouth shut. You helped Austin plan all the valentines day dates, the birthday trips, and each anniversary date. Every single thing he had done for her and every girl he had been with since had been painstakingly vetted by you. You were happy to help him, but the fact that all your preparations were for another girl was a hard pill to swallow.

Everything came to a head when he started dating Kaia Gerber. She was beautiful. in every way imaginable she was conventionally attractive. Her skinny legs, straight waist, and small hips made you want to collapse in on yourself. She was perfect in every way. She was everything you were not. Tall, skinny, and beautiful.

Austin was smitten. He had developed a habit of dating skinny models and he had yet to break it. You were anything but surprised when she caught his eye when he asked you if you had her number, when he took her out for the first date, and then eventually when they started dating. It was routine for you now.

He would meet a girl, become infatuated, date her, dump her, then move on to the next one.

But at least you stayed constant. You had been constant for well over a decade at this point. That was more than any of the other girls could say. So you were content, until the New Year's of 2022. It was December 31st, 2022 and Austin had just broken up with his latest fling and had elected to spend New Year's as a free agent. You had never really had a date on new years because your previous relationships always ended before the fateful day or started after. You had grown accustomed to accompanying the same leather chair in the corner of your living room while you watched your friends with their respective partners mingle about your house. You sipped champagne as you watched couples drunkenly sway together as the countdown began to draw dangerously close to midnight.

1 hour to midnight

You spotted Austin out of the corner of your eye and you felt the iciness in your heart melt when he smiled at the people he spoke to. He was in the middle of a group of 4 other people yet still looked ethereal. His hair shone under the kitchen light and the crinkles around his eyes made you want to run your fingers over them.

You watched him. You watched how his lips moved. You traced his figure with your eyes until you reached his hands. His fingers picked at the cuticles of his nails. It was his nervous habit. He always resorted to picking at his cuticles whenever he was around people he didn't know well. It had led to many last-minute manicures before photoshoots to help deal with the redness it left.

30 minutes to midnight

You slowly pushed yourself off the comfortable chaise and made your way over to him. Maybe if you were with him he would feel so nervous, and it could save you from a last-minute call to the nail salon where you had to beg for an opening. You slid in next to him and smiled at the people around him. They barely looked away from Austin to greet you, but you were fine with that. Austin was the star, not you. You slipped your hands in his hand and tugged it behind your back to keep it out of view from those around you.

Austin thrived off of physical touch. He needed it like the air he breathed. Whenever he was feeling nervous or overwhelmed being enveloped in a hug from you or even just having your hand in his was enough to calm the nerves and allow him to breathe. Austin looked down to where you were pressed into his side.

You knew him so well that even from across the room you knew he needed grounding. His chest swelled with pride for a reason he couldn't quite pinpoint. His conversation with those around him continued without a hitch and when the countdown started to broadcast on the TV, they all made their way to their respective partners leaving you and Austin alone at the kitchen island.

15 minutes to midnight

You kept Austin's hand clasped in yours as the countdown numbers descended. Neither of you planned on moving or letting go. The warmth of his hand reached places all over your body and practically heated you up from the inside.

7 minutes to midnight

Austin leaned his head down to whisper into your ear, "If I didn't know you better I'd say that you end up single on New Year's on purpose." You heard the smile in his voice.

"Do you?"

His brown furrowed together, "Do I what?"

You matched him with a grin of your own.

"Know me better." The half tilt of your head made his stomach churn.

His laugh was smooth and boisterous. He brought his other arm around your shoulder to bring you closer to his side. Your heart slowed as you relaxed into him and abandoned your unnecessarily alcoholic drink on the kitchen counter.

5 minutes to midnight

"Hey." Austin's voice cut into the still air of the room. His eyes were trained on the TV and you looked up at his jaw as you waited for him to finish his sentence.

"Do you… do you wish you had a date? For New Year that is." The question caught you off guard and you twitched as you pressed into his side.

"uhm, I-I. I gues-" You stuttered when you couldn't seem to form a cohesive response. Your heart started to accelerate again and your breaths came out in short pants.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself once more to better be able to form a cohesive sentence.

"Well, I guess no one wants to be alone on New years. But that is just how it always seems to happen." You paused a sudden feeling of bravery came over you. The most likely culprit of such a feeling being the alcohol.

"And the person I would like to be with is almost always in a relationship during the New Year." You focused your gaze on the suddenly very interesting kitchen tiles. You had previously told Austin about someone that you had a crush on for years. You had tried to keep it yourself but Austin tended to pry when it came to matters of love but as much as he tried to wrangle the information out of you about who it was, you had kept tight-lipped and unwavering in your resistance to respond.

"Oh?" His eyebrow quirked up as he looked away. It seems he had also taken a sudden interest in the wall decor you had across the room.

"Is this the same guy you've told me about before?" His voice was deep and his throat bobbed as he spoke.

"Yes, it is actually. The very same."

"Haven't you been into this guy for years Y/N?"

"Yes, I have."

"And you are still into him? Why? He is the stupidest man in the world if he hasn't noticed by now." His chuckle was low but you could tell he didn't actually find it remotely funny.

You looked up at him and wished that he would understand from your eyes that you were talking about him, that you were in love with him.

But you had been in love with him for nigh over 10 years and the dolt had yet to come to any significant realization regarding your feelings so there was no use hoping for something like that now.

"Well, I would stop loving him if I could, but as soon as I feel like I can get over him, he does something that has been crawling back." You shrugged lightly and took another sip of your drink before placing it back on the counter.

3 minutes to midnight

"And it doesn't help that he is my best friend." You were skirting around the dangerous territory with that statement. You knew you were. But you were so tired that all the previous reservations and rules you had so painstakingly followed, disappeared.

Austin's eyes widened in confusion.

"Best friend? You have another best friend?" Austin was too slow for his own good.

You shrugged before replying, "Nope, I only have one best friend."

He let out an exasperated sigh

"So I'm not your best friend?!" Your eye twitched.

"No Austin. You are my only best friend."

"So who are you in love with?" Your fingers twitched. You were going to strangle him.

"I am in love with my one and only best friend."

Silence

Austin tensed next to you and you awaited the sting of his rejection that you had spent the better part of the last 10 years preparing for.

2 minutes to midnight

The silences echoed in the room despite the growing cheers of those around you. The timer was steadily counting down the seconds and you wanted to vomit.

The bile rose in your throat when the counter reached 30 seconds. Awaiting his rejection was arguably worse than the rejection itself.

You pushed away from him. His previously comforting warmth had twisted something in your gut and now you wanted to vomit.

His hand traced your back as you slid away before it fell back to his side. He stuttered out a "W-wait."

But you didn't want to

3 Austin yanked you back until your face was back in his chest and his arm was around your waist. He moved his head into your neck and pushed his nose into your hair before taking a deep breath.

2 Your breath caught when he pulled your head away from him to look into your eyes. 1 He kissed you. He kissed so hard you could have sworn you had fireworks behind your eyes. His hands were everywhere. Crossing your neck, cupping your hips, and splaying across your back. He kissed you until neither of you could breathe anymore. You wrenched away from each other and gulped down large breaths of fresh air.

His hand shakily pressed against your cheek and you looked up to meet his eyes. You didn't want this to be something that only happened because it was the heat of the moment. You wanted it to mean something to him. You wanted him to love you the same way you had for years. You didn't want this to be mean nothin-

"I love you." You had the timbre of his voice memorized. You knew it was Austin speaking but you still looked around you dreading the possibility of him not speaking to you.

But your face was still cupped in between his hands and his eyes were on you.

your eyes were wide as you looked at him You felt stinging and then a prick of tears in your eyes. They fell slowly down your cheeks one by one and Austin kissed each of them away.

All at once you need him on you all over again. You had gone years without so much as a kiss on the cheek from him and you would be damned if you continued in that fashion.

So you pulled his lips hard against you and kissed him until your lips were numb and swollen, and even then you didn't want him off of you.

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well, this was probably shitty so forgive me. It has been a while since I posted so figured I needed to back in the groove of things haha. I think I might do a professor x university student Austin fic next so watch out for that lol.

#austin butler smut #austin butler fic #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfic #austin butler elvis #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x reader #austin elvis x reader #austin x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austinbutler #austin butler angst #austin butler series #austin butler x you #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butl #Spotify

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sexyandhedonistic · 9 months

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Faith (and feeling) is the secret: A small success story and what you can learn from it.

Hello, my loves. It’s been a while since I’ve made any sort of post on this blog. Today I’m going to be bringing you one of my many success stories. As someone who’s very private, I’m always skeptical about talking about any of them as they tend to be quite personal and oftentimes require me to disclose details to provide context. Even in this one, I’ll be keeping it occasionally vague and change a few insignificant details to preserve that privacy. Nevertheless, I feel good about sharing this one because I remember drawing so many comparisons and turning to a lot of what Neville himself said in his lectures and I applied what I’ve learned from beginning to end. Anyway, let’s get to the story:

This happened some time ago, it doesn’t really matter when but I had found out that a favorite artist of mine was having a concert after tickets had started going on sale. The concert was in one of my favorite cities which was a bit of distance from me so I was open to going, but not particularly compelled to. When I first heard about it, I looked up how much of the seating was occupied just to have an idea of how popular this concert was.

I couldn’t even see the seating chart because it would halt me with a “there are no seats available at this time”. Knowing the law, if I really did want to go, what I had just read meant nothing in the slightest, so I wasn’t discouraged. I continued to check from time to time to see if anything had changed and I would bump into the same exact notice. But again, I was still open to going and what I had read held no value and my reaction was no different than if I had seen a stadium full of blue sections. It didn’t matter one bit. This went on for two months.

During that time, I found out that some of my friends were going, so now I was more interested in going as well. I hadn’t particularly assumed I would go throughout, I was always thinking of the idea rather than from it. So, although for the most part I had no solid desire to actually be there up until now, I still knew that if I wanted to, I could be. Not once through this entire time did I feel stressed nor desperate. I always had faith.

It was the month of the event and I still didn’t have seats, and then they announced a giveaway which I entered. The span to apply was approximately two weeks and they would announce a winner a week before the event. That very morning, I was still hopeful about winning. I felt good, I kept thinking about what it would be like to be in one of my favorite cities hanging out with my friends and seeing one of our favorite artists. And then I decided to induce the state akin to sleep to really place myself into that state of consciousness.

I would like to mention something very briefly here that I’m not sure whether or not I have previously brought up, but whenever I imagine during the state akin to sleep, I see it as death. What I mean by that is that I am conscious of being something I don’t want to be before I induce the SATS, and the goal should be to come out of that imaginal act conscious of being something else. That’s how you should always approach the state akin to sleep. Die to the old state and identify yourself with the new one.

Having already been in Los Angeles on numerous occasions, I drew the feeling from that. I recalled what the weather was like at that time of year, I remembered all of the landmarks I would pass by, I thought about how happy I would be to see my friends, how excited I would feel to see one of my favorite artists perform, and I mentally placed myself in that city. I was no longer sitting in bed within four walls miles and miles away. I was in Los Angeles. I was surrounded by the hot weather telling my friends how happy I was to see them and I heard them say it back to me. I saw the lights and the streets, I felt the butterflies of making my way to the venue and finding my seat. I took all of those feelings and really let myself sit and become fully drenched in them until I felt happy to be there. (And I remembered to think from the end and not of the end. Remember that this is key. If I simply thought about being there, it would create no shift in consciousness.) I kept focusing on that feeling, I didn’t have a particular scene in mind, I was simply focusing on the senses and the emotions of being there. I felt happy that I was able to make it, I was thinking about how glad I felt for not taking no for an answer and the memory of the present moment of me inducing the SATS was something I had done last week.

I wasn’t keeping track of the time I was in that state, but it was roughly an hour. I hadn’t slept and the sun was starting to rise when I pulled myself out. I felt satisfied with my prayer and I reminded myself that if for whatever reason I felt uncertain I could simply do the same, so I felt good. I wasn’t anxious about whether or not I had done enough because I knew praying and accepting that it was happening was all I had to do and soon enough I’d be making my way to LA.

Then I went to sleep. The winners were to be announced in a few hours and shut my eyes assuming I would wake up to the good news. However, I didn’t win the giveaway, but I was a runner up and I was given access to purchase tickets at a heavily discounted price, which in itself was a good start to my trip to LA. I didn’t have a particular seat in mind when I saw myself there, but I did want to be close and I was (4th row from the stage). A seat that would’ve cost me about $230 went down to $60, so I snagged it. If you’re familiar with the You Are In Barbados story, this was my “Good news, Mr. Goddard” moment. It was happening.

I had my trip, I booked my flights, I prepared everything and within a week I was on my way to see so many of my favorite people in one city. I was ecstatic the entire time leading up to it and I enjoyed myself to death. The concert was on a weekend and I was back home by the time the week started. It was Tuesday and I was checking my inbox and for some reason I felt like going through my spam folder. And I came across an email that stood out to me.

It was an email from the event telling me that one of the winners hadn’t responded so I was next in line and I had won two tickets plus the opportunity to meet them. Now, I admit that I did think the giveaway was going to be the how in my story. When I induced the state akin to sleep, I didn’t visualize myself winning, I visualized myself being in LA because that was the actual end. What I most wanted was to attend the concert so that was the end I was living in. Yet, that email served as a reminder that if I really did want to meet them, I very much could have. That would’ve been the part where Abdullah would’ve told me, “Who said you are only attending? You are in Los Angeles and you met them.” If I had that desire in my heart, I would’ve remembered to remain faithful to that even after the giveaway had ended. Remember that it always comes down to persistence and brazen impudence when it comes to whatever it is that you really want. Know what you want and reject anything that isn’t it. Nothing more, nothing less.

I hope you guys enjoyed this little success story of mine and you can learn a thing or two from it. I know I’m always here providing advice to the best of my ability and this particular success story attests to the fact that I practice what I preach to you all. I’ve also told you guys before that when you all start having successes of your own, your faith in the law will only grow more and more. I speak from experience!

So my advice to you from this story, as I always have advised:

Know what you want. Have a clear idea of your desire.

Facts aren’t important. The 3D isn’t important.

Go straight to the end. You don’t need to become conscious of things in steps. (This is why I focused on being in LA and not on winning the giveaway.)

Have faith. Always walk by faith and not by sight.

The takeaway is to not worry about the how in the slightest, only concern yourself with what the end of your wish fulfilled looks like. It is yours if you truly want it. Focus on the end only, not anything in between. If you know circumstances don’t matter and you are limitless, that you don't need to worry about the how, the when, the why or the if, the only relevant question you should be asking yourself is the following:

Do you want it?

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dyaly21 · 8 months

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Long-winded thoughts no one asked me for about Red, White, and Royal Blue (movie)

First things first, would I have preferred it was a series? Absolutely. More time available, more characters allowed maybe, which could've run possibly closer to book. Do we know if that was ever an option though? I haven't seen or heard anything to indicate this had anything other than a movie available to be made. That being said, I really enjoyed the movie and can separate the book and movie without finding issue with anything not included. I mean, my favorite book is World War Z and if you want a movie that is absolutely nothing like the book...yeah.

I can't explain it but Henry's dog is absolutely a 'David'. He doesn't look like a Bowie at all. I don't know why but his name inexplicably fits.

Okay moving on. I like that the characters are older. They've lived a little more life and are settling in to who they are by the time their worlds' are shaken up. They're (still young but) no longer younger men who's brains aren't yet fully formed. Forever feels big when you're young but it's almost like it holds more consequences as you get older. Which - and I might be flamed for this - made the absence of Luna easier. At 22 Alex still had people he was looking up to, hoping to follow in the footsteps of. 27/28 year old Alex is creating his own path, being his own role model to follow. He knows he wants to be someone his dad didn't see growing up. He knows the weight that carries.

Henry is reserved and poised, except when it comes to Bea and Alex. His sister is understandable; she's his closest ally in a world he isn't comfortable living in. But Alex is the only one to get under his skin and make him less poised. Arguing with Alex should be beneath him, particularly on his brother's wedding day, but there's something about that antagonism that draws him in - crush notwithstanding. Maybe it's the thrill of talking to his crush regardless of words said, or maybe it's the freedom he feels in being less than proper around Alex because Alex doesn't white glove treat him in any situation.

The Waterloo closet. Henry was forced into the public eye - I do like how movie changed some lines here and made the death more recent for that interaction. It makes Henry look more sympathetic than the book (to me). And it allows Alex the chance to find some emotional even footing with Henry. He wasn't a douche cause he's a douche. He was a douche because he was grieving and wasn't allowed to navigate it properly. They were both struggling that night and neither knew it. The closet ironically let the air clear.

Henry hating New Years and basically (in a way) repeating Alex's death phrase. They think so similarly they both decided if I'm dead I can't be forced to do something lol. But Henry still goes and still has a good time until he's confronted with why he hates it. Seeing someone you like surrounded by others, engaged with others, when you can't be your true self with them must've been a gut punch. Nicholas Galitzine has the best facial expressions. And I love the way Taylor played the happy vibe until he noticed Henry not happy any longer.

I don't think the girl draping herself all over Alex during the party had slept with him yet. I think she was hoping to but he was not interested, no matter how hard she tried to get him to be. She felt too "look at me" and not "remember when we" to feel like they were past bed buddies.

The tree scene I like better movie wise. Alex staying back, letting Henry have his space to think and be but still engaging. He felt a little like a smartass in the book but here he explains he was who Henry describes, anonymous until he wasn't, but he seems to understand Henry wants to talk so he asks Henry who he'd be. There's a hint of a smile on Alex's face when Henry describes writing and Paris, like he appreciates Henry's hopes. Taylor plays this scene so softly (if still a little sloshed). It's only when Henry mentions dating that the banter part of Alex's brain turns back on and he isn't wrong; it isn't hard for a prince to get a date. But that doesn't mean they're dating who they want, no matter who they like.

I could gush about the kiss but that'd be paragraphs. So I'll just say I've seen some question why Alex doesn't give chase when Henry apologizes and walks away. 1st I think he's stunned. Maybe his brain hasn't figured out how to tell his legs to follow. It was a good kiss, he's shocked. 2nd, I think maybe the sober part knows if he did follow it would not be beneficial. Henry might run, be spooked off, and...vanish (sigh).

Side note: anyone else notice the steam coming off Alex (Taylor) after Henry walked away? Lol boy was feeling warm and I doubt it was the alcohol.

Real quick, the texts/calls. I love them playing out on screen and the progression from words only to them being spoken. It shows growing comfort until the bed scene where they feel together, if separated by an ocean. Also, OUCH to Henry reading the messages and not responding.

I liked how though Alex admits to interactions with other guys to Nora he doesn't label himself. He isn't 'out' to her. Sure she can deduce but he doesn't say it outright. His whole purpose isn't whether he's bi but why Henry lol. No there's no Liam but he is there in the peripheral of an experience Alex had in high school. And his time drunk in the hot tub with Miguel is just another experience. Alex it seems has never questioned why he's attracted to who he's attracted to until it became Henry because that doesn't compute.

I do believe Alex reciprocated at least something in his bedroom after the PM's dinner. When the Washington Monument (no pun intended) pops up, the moon travels across the sky to indicate significant time passing and once we rejoined A&H, Alex was shoeless and adjusting his belt so they had to have done more than just a bj from Henry. I seriously doubt they could have controlled themselves if Alex was undressed all that time or had changed into something else. But I think Henry looks so put together because he's in Alex's room, in the White House as a guest, and he has to leave the room risking potentially being seen, so he can't look rumpled or ravaged if he is. He has to look like he's proper and dignified and sexed out would not do.

Real quick on Miguel: I don't think he was ever jealous, not completely at least. I think he was calculating and opportunistic. Initially hooking up with the son of a presidential candidate is a big deal, get them drunk and maybe they'll talk/give you a scoop. It also shows he's ethically ambiguous. It presents a conflict of interest to hook up with a candidate's son and then continue to cover that candidate/elected person. Ethically, what is his bias like, you know? Did he cover the Claremont administration first term fairly or did he skew things just in case he ran into Alex again? Sure he probably enjoyed himself and hoped for a repeat but I think he let ambition run over common sense and decency. He sees something (A&H meeting at the bar entrance), and it's after he's just been harshly (to him) rejected by Alex so he probably let that sting of rejection propel his opportunistic side and now he gets a big scoop. It will propel his career and the carnage left in the wake of that is secondary. As a queer man I'm sure he weighed the outing and decided his advancement was worth more than the harm he was bringing about. Especially since he never should have continued covering the president or her family. I'd like to think he was fired but... I also doubt he did everything on his own. He has connections, he used them, cut a deal with foreign press and got his notoriety. No matter its cost. And also the irony of the actual publication the fictional Miguel works for lambasting the movie because they got in their rejection feels makes me laugh a little. Journalists who you think have integrity can disappoint you. Horribly. That's just as realistic as what happens in the book. Their review felt more like why'd you pick on me than what the actual movie was intended to be viewed as. Just my opinion though.

A quick sidebar on TZP: Nick was amazing. He had a meaty (get out of the gutter) role to play with a vast array of heavy emotions displayed. Alex, however is the more laid back, possibly happier character because he has a good support system at home, even if I felt (movie wise) he was isolated in his own way, with no real relationships outside those working around him. He causes chaos but he isn't cruel about it, he's just occasionally dumb lol. He drives Zahra crazy but she genuinely cares for him. I think Amy would be interested in seeing Alex tased (all in good fun) but he's like her baby brother and she will destroy you if you hurt him. But TZP feels so Alex coded, and he does funny really well which isn't easy for everyone. After learning of the part and before he auditioned Taylor made sure to read the book to grasp the character, even, as he says, crying over it. He annotated his script, essentially making lists to keep track of feelings and emotions needed to convey Alex's growth and journey since they film out of order. His script was his bible so he got his character just right. Nick gets a lot of (justified) credit for his performance but I really feel like Taylor put in so much effort to do Alex justice and deserves his flowers for that.

It's so interesting to watch the way both men change. Henry is reserved and "grey" in appearance and mood. I look at the character and he's a muted blue to me (out of curiosity, I wondered how much of "Mad King" George was passed into Henry's lineage seeing as book Henry sees a therapist/takes meds and movie Henry is very often on the downward). But when Alex enters his life other colors full of vibrancy do too. The muted shades lighten and he grows stronger, more confident. He learns he doesn't have to be confined to propriety and status quo keeping him caged. Alex on the other hand is buoyant red and orange, he's a bit of a chaos gremlin, like he has so much energy and passion he needs to share but with limited outlets (like, just please look at his memo). Henry gives him an outlet, both passionately and as a safe space to express his hopes. He also soothes the chaos Alex carries. Once their relationship gets going, Alex feels softer, quieter. Like he settled into his skin finally, having it fit the way it was always meant to but didn't have the right measurements yet. He's still passionate, he still has a raging fire burning within but it's like everything clicked into place and he finally understands how to wield it. Alex helped Henry finally believe he was brave all along, and Henry helped show Alex he was capable, especially when he kept being held back.

I'm so curious what's going through Henry's mind when Alex tells Zahra they've been seeing each other since New Years. Because it was an impulsive act in the middle of him feeling down on Henry's part but to Alex that's when their relationship started. It didn't even matter he was ghosted. New Years was the beginning to Alex and I'd love to know what Henry's thoughts are on that because of the way he looks at Alex in that scene is one of potential curiosity or maybe even disbelief.

I'll admit I like Uma's Ellen better than the book version. She's involved and attentive to her son's life and unlike in the book, it doesn't feel like she has to set time to be motherly. The scene where she questions Alex about Miguel leaking his Texas strategy, when she tells Alex he's no longer allowed to speak to the press Alex is genuinely hurt. It's all over his face, his mom losing trust in him over this. It's not something that's happened before or often. He's chaos but even after the cake incident, he wasn't perceived as a risk until this moment and it hurts him his mom feels that way. But Alex isn't one to hold a grudge and he still wants his mom to succeed, whether he helps with that or not. And his coming out to her, she's holding him after they've eaten and are talking. In the book, yes there's the funny power point but it's in a conference room setting and more clinical. Taylor is a tactile person, Alex is now too, and the character being held by his mom while they discuss his life is endearing.

The almost "I love you" made me think to how desperately Henry wants to hear it but at the same time it's a swift wake up that the carefully crafted fun time they're supposed to be having isn't actually just for fun. Casual is a word they heard but never learned the definition of. With Alex's bedroom and the "can't have you fall in love with me" bit, Henry didn't see the quick flash of disappointment in Alex's face at being told this had to be casual. He only heard and noticed Alex agreeing with him. Henry liked Alex a long time but it was probably his safest crush because he only saw the superficial version of Alex that was portrayed by people who didn't know him. The playboy, the guy who didn't take life too seriously and who jokes around. Of course that guy wouldn't fall for Henry, it's just a good time. But Alex feels deeply. He's exposed this constantly, but most fiercely when discussing why he wants to be involved in politics. Henry just made himself turn a blind eye so he didn't let his attachment to Alex break him when that played up version of Alex inevitably got bored and moved on. So the almost I love you shatters Henry because it wasn't supposed to happen. The lies he fed himself were exposed and he had to run.

I do think the emotions Alex let free within him amped up his idealism. And probably nerves did too. So once he started talking whatever was in his head slipped out because he knew walking through Austin holding hands was not realistic but his heart yearned for it so his mouth said it. I did wonder what Alex was thinking after Henry swims away. I imagine he believed that maybe while he was there emotionally, Henry wasn't and jumped because he got spooked worried about not feeling love yet. He probably figured Henry needed space and then they'd talk it out because that's what they do but instead Henry ghosted. He admits to Henry he knew he wouldn't hear I love you back but he still wanted to be honest about his own feelings.

The fireside confrontation: Alex storming the castle is a metaphor. Henry's the castle. Honestly, Alex doesn't storm anything in the book either, he just causes enough of a nuisance they let him in to not cause or create a scene. In the movie I imagine it's the same; Henry's told Alex insists on being let in. He was probably outside close to a scene and was let in to avoid that. I think he was fire and determination until he was let in and was left standing alone waiting for Henry because for all his bluster, he's terrified of losing Henry completely. He loves him, his heart is on the line here. It was only after Henry told him he could say his piece and then leave did that fire return.

And Henry isn't wrong but he also isn't right. He did tell Alex who he is and what is and isn't acceptable. Prince Henry belongs to Britain. Protocol. Problem though is he was only ever Henry Fox with Alex. He was his true self and so Alex saw exactly who Henry is. He knows exactly who Henry is. I think Henry accusing Alex of not knowing him was a little bit of projection because after so much time spent with Alex he was struggling to keep up the act and maintain keeping the parts of himself separated. Because Henry let himself be reckless when he knew a prince wasn't supposed to be. But also Henry's wrong about it costing Alex nothing. I'm sure Alex weighed his future if he pursued Henry. Not only does it hold risk to his mom's reelection, he has goals for himself, promises he made to himself that affect the rest of his life, and a relationship with Henry could put that in jeopardy. It has the potential to completely throw off his entire life but his feelings for Henry were weighed to be with that risk.

Also just thinking about it, Henry longs for anonymity. It's the first real thing he discusses with Alex, it's something they discuss after they make love the first time, it's a big deal to Henry. And I do think in some ways he's a little upset at Alex for not necessarily wanting that life. But I think one thing he doesn't think about is if Alex was anonymous, if his mom never ran for president, Henry would've miss out on meeting the love of his life. If Henry was anonymous, same thing. How would their paths have crossed? Maybe fate or some kind of magic, but that doesn't always happen. They had to be who they are to find each other.

I also just really loved the way Alex spoke to Henry through the confrontation. It was romanticism and all those books Henry loves but in real life. It shows Alex was paying attention to who Henry is and what he likes/appreciates. I also feel like Alex weighed their separate futures and saw how he could try to move on with someone else but it would never amount to what he had with Henry. There would always be a void there. And Henry, if he met and married would be forever miserable, locked in a lie just to appease an institution that cares more about propriety than the person. It'd undoubtedly hurt Alex the rest of his life. "Nothing would ever happen to you." Just think how even if Alex didn't pursue a public life he'd still occasionally be talked about. So if he did meet someone and marry them, it'd be publicized, in black and white for Henry to break apart over. And the same for Alex, only knowing it was all a facade to keep up appearances. God, that thought actually hurts to think about.

Heading to the V&A it was interesting to watch the distance between them. Alex hangs back, he steps purposely out of the way when walking through the gate to not touch Henry, and he sniffs a little once on the other side. I wonder if he wondered would Henry get him out there to shut him out. Alex doesn't know what they're doing and he's going on blind faith this won't break his heart any further. It's only just before their dance their steps become in sync again, a reconnect of what was nearly broken. And Alex had Henry step to him, having Henry make the choice to equalize them again because this was the only time they didn't walk side by side. And that fake was amazing. It was nearly as intimate as them making love, only this was full of fear and hope and uncertainty and want all wrapped up into the heavy but chosen burden of history.

I am so glad Alex gives Henry his key. And that Alex wears the ring. It feels so much more meaningful to have them both give a "part of themselves" to the other while they have to be apart. Especially after their peace is violated. They need that anchor to the other, most especially once radio silence commenced. And then the way Henry held it together but slowly started to break as he walked away...ugh heartbreaking. But I just know Alex knew he was struggling because he stopped to watch Henry leave, no doubt to make sure he was able to. Henry can't watch Alex leave but Alex has to watch Henry leave because he needs to make sure he's okay.

"Just hold on until I get there." and "I'll break the sound barrier for you." Alex will let Henry fall apart if he needs to and he will hold him up and be strength for both of them until Henry gains his strength back. And it feels so much like Alex will fight whatever even thinks of hurting Henry. He doesn't think twice, Henry needs him, distance and everything else between him and the man he loves can screw off.

I was thinking about how Alex addresses the press, admits to a relationship with Henry, confirms the rumors, yet the King decided to say it was all lies. I believe he intentionally mentions the misinformation campaign as his way of letting Henry (and Alex) know it doesn't matter what was confirmed during the White House press conference; the crown is going to sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn't happen. They're going to pretend it's false even if it has the potential to disrupt relations between the US and UK. Isolating and hiding away Henry was step one in that plan. The king says this in front of Alex, basically daring Henry to go against everything he was brought up to behave like, because of course he'll agree to the denial and having him do it in front of Alex let's Alex (and Henry) know the power of the crown isn't to be trifled with. It's why when asked, Alex looks at Henry, face serious, wondering how Henry'll respond. I've no doubt when the King dressed Alex down and Henry released his hand, Alex thought he might've lost Henry for the briefest of moments until Henry asked why. The problem though is this is the age of instant media, and if citizens of a nation see one side confirm, openly, honestly, but see the other side made to be hidden, they're gong to react. In this case they understood what wasn't being said by the crown and decided to show support for Henry (and Alex by association). The carefully constructed image backfired because the people wanted their prince happy and in love. Not locked away and forgotten until he projects what his position demanded.

And I was also thinking how neither Henry or Alex could contact each other. Radio silence and no way to make sure the other (especially Henry) is okay. What can Alex do if he can't actually reach out? He can make a speech. He can confirm to the world - but speak to Henry specifically ("I hope Henry was watching." he tells Zahra) - that he's resolute. That he isn't ashamed and no one else in their similar positions should be either, because privacy violation doesn't diminish love. Henry did see. It helped. But Alex's presence healed.

Other tidbits: For as chaotic as he can be, Alex being very organized makes so much sense. He probably understands his mind is a mess and he struggles to be stagnant for too long so he makes sure his physical surroundings and his work is orderly. I like how though Alex is a touch driven person, he let's Henry lead in touching him. (Did anyone else notice how it looks like Nick hit a sensitive spot around Taylor's shoulder/chest in the Paris scene before they fall into bed? Lol!) Henry is closeted and though Alex hasn't come out he isn't afraid of being himself. So he doesn't want to take from Henry, instead allowing Henry to take, thus he can touch freely while Alex holds back until Henry is comfortable. Casual relationships don't get discussed with sisters. I wonder if Bea was thinking that while Henry talked about Alex lol. Alex's instant "no" to Zahra: man feels zero hesitation. The way Zahra calls Alex kid: you know he's the baby brother she never asked for and questions why the stork won't take him back lol! The way Oscar and Alex talk about Henry; first at the WH where Oscar asks Alex's problem with Henry, and then when Alex asks if Oscar likes Henry. I just know Alex was thinking back to that conversation hoping his dad still thinks of Henry as a good person. The little kisses Henry gives to Alex... lovely. There are so many little moments that I'm curious if it's just decisions by T&N to do or if any bits were scripted. I'd love commentary and deleted scenes and extras etc.

Honestly, Taylor and Nick were stupendous in this movie. They made me believe they love each other romantically, that they're soulmates. I love that they're such good friends, but it feels like their bond transcends that. Taylor's crying causes Nick to cry, that kind of emotional connection is so exquisite to witness. Though in their humor I probably adore them more. It's like they share a brain cell and the lithe guy is fighting for its life haha! I need to see them -definitely in a sequel- do more things together. Buddy comedy, drama, whatever, just let them do their thing. I hope the studios get their acts together soon because these guys (whole cast&crew) deserved to promote this movie and feel up close love and adoration for it.

If you read all that, you're a champ.

#red white and royal blue #red white & royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #rwrb film #rwrb book #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #prince henry rwrb #firstprince #alex rwrb #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #thoughts

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bupia · 8 months

Note

yo regarding the headcanons, could you maybe perhaps do headcanons for the Papas where reader is just very energetic, expressive and smiley :D I talk a lot, and also with my hands so I thought this could be a cute idea! no pressure tho <3

I think this is absolutely the cutest idea ever!

Thank you for your request, I hope you like it.

Primo

Primo, possesses a striking and commanding presence. Dressed in his regal attire, with a flowing dark robe, ornate mitre, and skull-painted face, would give the idea that he is very authoritative and hard to get-along;

However, Primo is actually gentle and lovely. This figure was just hidden beneath his imposing exterior;

He is known for his profound empathy and kindness by some few people inside of the Ministry, especially you;

Primo's true essence is that of a compassionate and loving soul. His ability to balance his imposing stage presence with genuine kindness makes him a beloved figure;

He always payed attention to your behavior when you were walking around with the other siblings, your energy was certainly contagious even when you weren't talking directly to him;

In private moments, Primo would ask you to keep talking, filling the room with your energy. It would make him feel young, you would bring him the energy he thought he had lost;

His voice, usually deep and powerful on stage, transforms into a soothing and comforting tone whenever he talks to you;

And don't think you would be the only one talking in the room, Primo would always have something to add or tell you, especially if he knew that whatever he had to say to you, would make you happy. He knows exactly what to say to see your eyes shining with excitement.

Secondo

Secondo is known for his stern and authoritative demeanor. He has a regal and solemn presence;

He enjoys the silence. Not that he doesn't talk, but he prefers to not be bothered at all;

He works in silence, he eats in silence, he walks in silence and even his replies are silently;

The most part of his day, only some few words would be heard and most part of them would be just a grunt or short Italian sentences;

When you started your new life in the Ministry, poor Secondo, he had a hard time;

You would see him walking on the corridors and follow him asking things about the Ministry and other things you'd want to know;

He'd likely observe your energetic behavior with a raised eyebrow, not entirely sure how to handle your exuberance;

But, at every question, he would respond with a calm, measured tone and occasionally interject to steer the conversation toward another topic;

And then, one day, he found himself listening attentively to your lively conversation;

As you two continued to interact, he gradually warms up to your enthusiasm;

Initially, he would try to maintain a composed demeanor, but a subtle, appreciative smile would eventually break through;

Occasionally gesture with his own hands, trying to match your energy;

He'd nod along to your animated conversation, occasionally chuckling at your infectious enthusiasm, and that was the first time you heard his laugh;

And for the first time in years, Secondo would stop being a fan of the silence.

Terzo

Terzo, known for his suave and charming demeanor, would appreciate your energetic behavior;

He is a true charmer, exuding a magnetic allure that draws people into his orbit;

He is a Papa with a striking contrast between his onstage flamboyance and his offstage complexity;

His elaborate outfits, makeup, and passionate vocals all contribute to his captivating stage persona. His deep, expressive eyes, have a way of making anyone feel special when he gazes at them;

However, he was already described in the past as a deeply introspective and often lonely figure;

When confronted with someone who is energetic, talkative, always smiling, Terzo would respond with curiosity and caution;

Deep down, he may also feel a sense of longing for the genuine connection and warmth that you exudes;

Your expressive nature may remind him of the joy and vibrancy he often yearns for in his life;

He'd appreciate your energy and might even encourage you to share more stories and anecdotes;

He finds your enthusiasm absolutely endearing and contagious. He'd be delighted by your expressiveness and smile in response;

But also, this would be the opportunity to engage in witty and flirtatious banter;

Terzo would relish in your chatter, listening intently to every word, and responding with compliments and charming remarks;

With a debonair smile, he'd occasionally join in on your hand gestures, using grand gestures and theatrical expressions to complement your energy;

For Terzo, your expressiveness is charming and he would share witty remarks to keep the conversation light and enjoyable;

Your interaction would be a captivating blend of wit, energy, and underlying emotional depth.

Copia

Copia stands out not only for his ecclesiastical vestments but also for his playful and approachable demeanor;

He might respond with a subtle smile or a knowing glance, occasionally interjecting with cryptic comments;

However, Copia has a mischievous streak, often sharing puns, dad jokes, and silly one-liners with a twinkle in his eye.

When he encounters someone who is just like him, Copia couldn't be happier;

His voice carries an infectious enthusiasm just like yours;

Copia, would likely adapt to the situation and mirror your energy;

He'd wear a warm smile and would reciprocate with animated gestures and an endless stream of playful chatter, sometimes even incorporating puns and jokes into the conversation;

Copia finds you boundless energy and expressiveness utterly endearing;

He would feel an instant connection with you, finding your energy contagious and your expressive nature utterly charming;

He might even encourage you to share more stories and anecdotes to keep the conversation lively;

Copia would likely share his own stories encouraging laughter and light-heartedness between your interaction;

Your interaction would be filled with laughter, warmth, and a shared love for all things dorky and fun.

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slaymybreathaway · 9 months

Text

WASTELAND, BABY! [prologue]

Masterlist

Chapter List

[Word Count: 762]

July 30th 1994 ○ Neville's Bedroom

___________________________________

It was 11pm when Neville Longbottom heard a tapping sound on his bedroom window.

He was sitting ontop of his patchwork bed covers, in his pyjamas, reading a muggle book that he had found in an old bookshop near his house earlier that day.

At first he took no notice of the noise, it was often that branches hit against his window whenever the wind blew a certain way. However, when these 'branches' started making a squawking noise, he turned his attention away from the book in his hands.

The boy walked over to his window, where he saw a white barn owl sitting on the outside windowsill. The bird looked up at him, an ivory envelope held in it's beak. Neville opened his window slowly, trying his best not to scare the owl away.

"Thanks mate," he spoke, taking the envelope from the bird and watched as it flew away into the dark summer night.

He shut his window before turning the envelope over in his hands. It was thick and felt like it had something rectangular inside of it.

The address on the front was written in a neat-but-slanted way, which he recognised almost immediately to be the handwriting of Y/n Finnigan. Neville smiled, letting the excitement show on his face.

Y/n and Neville had known each other since their first year at Hogwarts. She was his friend, Seamus's twin sister so naturally, he was friends with her also.

The odd thing was, that over the summer months, Neville found himself feeling a strange buzz of happiness whenever she sent him a letter. It even got to the point where every letter that wasn't from her seemed unimportant.

He couldn't quite explain what he felt or why he felt it. So instead, he just put it down to the lonely-ness of Summer.

The front and the back of the envelope was covered with small doodles of stars and balloons. The smile on Neville's face, somehow, grew wider at the thought of her taking the time to draw them on, individually.

The boy opened the envelope just above the green wax seal on the back and out fell both a letter and a casette tape. He picked up the letter and started to read:

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

Dear Nev,

Happy Birthday!!! I was going to give you your present on the train to school but I just couldn't wait. I hope you like the mixtape (it's for the walkman, by the way)

See you soon,

Y/n

(PS. Tell your granny that I was asking for her)

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

After reading it a few times, Neville took the box out from under his bed that contained all of the letters she had sent over the past two months and placed the new one on top. He slid the box far enough under his bed that it couldn't be seen by anyone that walked into his room.

The boy rifled through the drawer in his bedside locker until he found what he was looking for, his walkman. When he bought the muggle device, he didn't realise that the music wasn't included so he couldn't use it... until now.

When he looked at the tape closely, he could see that it was labeled on either side with ☆Neville's Mixtape☆ written in red marker. He opened the walkman and carfully placed the tape in before putting the headphones on and pressing the "play" button.

The boy turned off the light and lay in his bed, pulling the covers up to his shoulders as he heard the acoustic guitar play softly through the opening bars of the first song on the tape.

He couldn't help but imagine where Y/n was the first time she heard this song. Did it come on in the radio in her Dad's car? Or did she find the album that this song belonged to in a dusty old casette shop and waited until later that day to listen to it, when she was lying in bed. Just like he was doing right now. He smiled at the thought

A male voice sang softly the lyric:

"All the fear and the fire of the end of the world.

Happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl,"

Neville swore that he would remember those words forever beacause it was in that moment that he finally realised what that buzz of happiness was.

The was falling in love with her...

And man, did he feel the fear and the fire of the end of the world.

_____________________

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ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously · 9 months

Text

Another post? damn

I was on vacation a few weeks back and had no internet so I downloaded all Fanfciton that were Satoru/Shoko tagged and rated them.

Here are the ones I rated 5/5 ... so i guess this is a ff recommendation post lol

The delicate art of flirting

3rdgymbros

Words: 1,960, Satosho, 5/5

This is so good. I love that the first years get brought into the infirmary and they just KNOW ahahahahah. Also it’s just this casual side thing but there something so much deeper that i hurts which i like about this ship

Like a lost shirt

Lua

Words:1,520, Satosho, 5/5

I am a sucker for raw and "practical" relationships. Like this is exactly how I imagine them to grieve for Suguru and I love that so much can be left unsaid but the reader and Satoru and Shoko both just know. What they have isn't healthy but it's the only thing they can have. A happy and healthy relationship with someone else would just simply not work. They are both too fucked up for that.

Sorry about the blood in your mouth (i wish it was mine)

Her_black_tights

Words: 17,761 Sashisu/ Satosho 5/5

So I am biased on this one cuz this is one of my headcanons. That Suguru fucked around with both and that his absence is why Gojo and Shoko are a thing. And I feel like this fic perfectly encapsulates the hurt, the brokenness and the necessity of their relationship. Like this is how they cope and its messy and unhealthy and i love it

Listen I love you joy is coming

Antioedipus

Words:3,938 Satosho 5/5

This one is cute. Nah cute is the wrong word, they are goblins but it’s nice. They are both fucked up which is funny. Also 100% can see that Shoko doesn't have the emotional capacity to console a crying woman but still would do the right thing even if she doesn't think it’s the right thing.

Work and not run (skip and not fall)

Aminstrel

Words:2,300 Satosho 5/5

Love this! Cute! Exactly how i Imagine them. Also match cut? Peak comedy hahahaha goblin energy.

Catalyst

tiressian

Words:4,170 Satosho 5/5

AYOOOOO first tiressian ff. i remember reading this and having gotten new horizons opened xD Anyway: love it, super nice character interaction. Love it when Gojo is stumbling over his words, a tiressian special! Also love the aftermath, hilarious but sweet.

To my significant (b)other

Tiressian

Words: 6,621 Satosho 5/5

Another banger! Back to back? Spoiled honestly. I love this one just because it makes so much sense that she writes a list. Also Gojo high as balls is hilarious. Then the whole dialogue at the wedding with the chaste touches omg my skin is prickling. Love it.

Warmth

Satoluvs

Words:2,663 Satosho 5/5

I LOVE THIS. Omg adopted Yuji has my heart. Also consoling somebody by not talking it out but taking them in giving them affection to cure the sadness omg. Also also Satoru and Shoko just dating super casually i looooovee it.

Breathing underwater

Shrimphony

Words:1,848 Sashisu/ Satosho 5/5

This one hurts so much omg. And this could easily be canon. Idk why Gege does not show us Shoko’s grief more…. Like even if it's platonic how can she not find solace in Gojo still being there hmm? And then when Gojo, Nanami and Yaga get ripped from her, that must have destroyed her…

Shore

Tiressian

Words:7,161 Satosho 5/5

VERY TASTY thank you for the meal. I love their dynamic. Back with the tiressian special. Also Shoko making him do push ups, same girl same i get it. Love the banter, it makes so much sense.

Epoch

Tiressian

Words:6,341 Satosho 5/5

Yum, yes, very nice. Love cheerleader Gojo, he has my heart, that poor dude. No other comments it's perfect

Call it a hunch

Tiressian

Words: 5,560 Satosho 5/5

I think this is one of my favourites hahhaha. I love how panda is trying to convince everybody hahahahah. Also the snowball fight is glorious xD the little yuta/maki you slipped in there, i see you hehehehe. And the end has me ROLLING HAHAHAHAH

It's the thought that counts

Tiressian

Words: 2,182 Satosho 5/5

THE CUTEST ahhhh i love them i really really need to draw the three of them uff.

there's lots of 4/5 ones too that I'd recommend but i need to cap the list somewhere xD (the google doc has 12 pages wtf ahahahah) This is up for changes anyway :P but enjoy my recommendations xD

#this is the beautiful labor of 4 weeks reading 60+ fanfiction #thank you riley for motivating me by dumbing your thoughts too #and letting me rand about ooc and abo :'D #omg the torture of being a rarepair shipper #on one side you want more ff's on the other side some ff's are just pure trash xDDDDDDD #doesnt matter i will read through them all #satosho #satosho weekend #satoru gojo #shoko ieiri #jjk #fanfiction

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dragon-ascent · 1 year

Text

Birthday

Zhongli has a happy birthday~

For a man who has lived many years and has many more still to live, birthdays are very trivial. They got old (pun unintended) after the first millennium or so, and owing to the fact that Zhongli’s birthday falls on the very last day of the standard calendar year, he merely sees the day as the apex point of the world, the final page in a chapter that is on the verge of being turned to start anew and afresh.

But now that he has a lover, his first lover in centuries, a lover who adores and cherishes him more than anything, this day will now be very different. Not that he knows it just yet.

His birthday begins like any other - wait, no it doesn’t. You’re there to greet him when he wakes as usual, this time smiling, grinning, beaming more than normal. With the most contagious cheer you wish him a happy birthday, and Zhongli beams back and pulls you in for a kiss. And another. And another. (Almost twenty minutes go by like this - he can’t get enough of you.)

You know Zhongli doesn’t want for much; now that he lives as a mortal man, he takes pleasure in the simple little things in life. That doesn’t stop you from making today as special as possible, though - after a hearty breakfast of the things he likes, you present him with his gifts. A special tea set, and some new calligraphy brushes, all carefully crafted by traditional artisanal specialists. It’s only morning, but Zhongli’s heart is already so full. Of happiness, love, adoration.

For lunch, you make him some bamboo shoot soup, slow-cooked just the way he’d taught you, along with some oncidium tofu and also some traditional longevity noodles, as is customary to be eaten on birthdays in Liyue.

“Long noodles?” he asks, chuckling softly. “Are we wishing for a long life for myself, my love?”

“Hey, tradition is tradition!” you return cheekily. Zhongli cannot argue against that, so he eats the noodles - who knows, perhaps it has added an extra hundred years to his lifespan. Ah, and the bamboo shoot soup is delightful, and he tells you so with great zest. He cannot be more proud.

The weather is just right, and so in the afternoon the two of you go on a little stroll. It takes everything in you to not just burst out saying, “Today is my husband’s birthday!” and watch everyone on the street turn to wish him. Instead, you settle for wearing a perpetual giddy grin, nuzzling Zhongli’s arm as you walk. Zhongli, amused and endeared, cannot help but beam back. People on the street see a couple utterly enamored with each other.

The day is far from over - when evening falls, you take him to Liuli Pavilion and cover his eyes with your hands. You lead him into one of the private dining chambers, and he, nearly finding himself quivering in anticipation, follows your guidance until he is made to stand still. He can hear the excited, short breaths of multiple people waiting to surprise him, but before he can ponder over who they must be, you lift your hands from his eyes and he sees for himself.

Madam Ping, Tartaglia, Director Hu and a few other coworkers from the funeral parlor, as well as his scholar friend from Sumeru sit at the table - a small gathering to be sure, but a most jovial one.

You all laugh and joke and reminisce and dine, a spread of the choicest Liyue delicacies gracing the table. There has been much to see and experience this past year, and more still to come. Zhongli is the farthest being from loneliness in this moment, and everyone at the table registers just how fondly he gazes at you. After what feels like hours of conversation, the companions hug Zhongli and take their leave, satisfied moods and bellies all around.

The night falls deeper, and the moon rises higher. The dawn of a new year approaches, and the two of you sit, side by side, enjoying the view from your vantage point up in Chihu Rock. He draws you close, letting your head rest on his chest, and he etches this image into his memory with gold embossing.

If Zhongli thought the day’s celebrations had ceased, he is immediately proven wrong when you look up at him, smiling, pulling out a bottle of osmanthus wine and two small cups from your bag. His eyes widen slightly.

You pour him a cup and then share a kiss with him, tender, delicate, yearning. He loves you, he knows this, but he doesn’t know the extent to which he loves you; it’s unquantifiable. Not even all the Mora he’s created can measure its worth.

Pulling away from the kiss, you cup his cheek. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Yes, Zhongli had never been one to celebrate his birthday - but now, with you around, things are different.

He takes a sip of the wine, tilts his head skyward, and closes his eyes with a contented smile gracing his lips. Yes, this is a happy birthday indeed.

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #sini writes #zhongli x you #fluff #birthday #happy birthday

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rebelliousstories · 5 months

Text

Yuletide

25 Days of Ficmas

Relationship: Corey Cunningham x Reader

Fandom: Halloween Ends

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Paganism, Light Angst

Word Count: 1,445

Masterlist: Here

Summary: Christmas holds some rough memories for Corey. Luckily his lover has some ways to override Christmas memories of the past.

“Wait, so can you explain this again? I’m really trying to understand. I’m just having a hard time. I’m sorry.” Corey ducked his head as he asked for his girlfriend to repeat what she said for about the third time. He saw a hand rapidly approaching his face and flinched when he felt contact. But there was no stinging, just a gentle caress over his stubbly jaw.

“Of course. Don’t worry, I didn’t get it right away either.” She assured him, trying to reverse the years of damage any way she could. Grabbing her handwritten book, she opened up to a specific page and spoke slowly and carefully.

“So Yule is our version of Christmas. When the christians came upon the pagans living in Europe, they saw our festivals and celebrations and made their own versions to make it easier to convert the pagans. As opposed to a specific day, Yule is a time frame. It starts sundown of the winter solstice, and ends in the new year. We always have a big meal that first sundown and enjoy the festive time.” Her delicate writings and sketchy drawings that littered the pages in front of him, captivated his senses. Corey trailed his fingers over the ink that stained the pages in front of him.

“So christians took Yule, and turned it into Christmas?” He questioned,hoping to prompt more information out of his lover but he had no idea how or what to ask.

“Yeah, pretty much. Yule logs are a pretty obvious tie, but the reason there is always a big feast is because pagans would commemorate the solstice with a boar in honor of the wild hunt that takes place. Christmas trees were brought about because that’s what we use to offer thanks.” She explained further, watching as he kept his eyes on the pages before him. Corey opened and closed his mouth several times, like a fish gasping for air, but no words came from his throat.

“Do you… do you think, that-” came from the young man, but he never finished the thought. His hands messed with each other and he picked at his nails. However, his girlfriend reached her hand over and placed her own on top of his to steady them.

“Do I think what, Corey?” Her question was so soft and gentle, that he could not help but look up to see his lover gazing back at him.

“Do you think, maybe, I could. I don’t know. Maybe, I could come over and celebrate with you instead? I don’t have good memories with Christmas anyways.” Corey’s eyes dropped back to their hands that were joined together, and he fiddled with the rings that adorned his lover’s delicate fingers. It was quiet for a moment, as nothing but the sound of her breathing passing between them. Corey, on the other hand, was too afraid and anxious of her response to dare break his silence. But, he felt a kind kiss being pressed to his forehead.

“Of course you can! I would love to have some company.” He looked up at this, complete with a soft, boyish grin on his face. It grew into a smile that matched his lover’s as they sat there.

“Okay. Awesome. I’ll tell my mom, and then I’m all yours.” Corey looked so incredibly happy about coming over rather than spending the evening with his own family.

“No. Absolutely not. You are not leaving here Christmas Day.” And there it was, his mother’s veto that came with just about everything in life that Corey wanted. But he was an adult now, surely he could find the strength to tell his mother no. His hands shook, and he looked anywhere but here as he sought the strength he needed.

“Can’t even look me in the eyes and ask me. That just means you’re not serious, and you’re lying about having a girlfriend.” She continued to chastise and criticize her son, who still fought with his heart and his head. Yet soon, he thought about how excited his girlfriend was when he finally asked her to join her, how happy she looked to have him around.

“I am going to spend the day with her.” Corey stared his mother dead in the eyes, and fought with himself to not back down. She almost looked impressed, but she, too, did not back down.

“You really think that some girl is going to treat you the way I do? That some other girl will love you like I do? I am your mother. I am owed you being with me on the holidays.” Her tone turned deadly, and she shook her finger in his face. Corey wanted to run and apologize; his past experiences telling him that was the easiest path. But he did not want to let his lover down.

“I’m going, mom. I’m an adult and can make my own choices so I’ll be spending the day with her instead of here.” Before his mother could get another word out, Corey turned on his heels and went out the front door. There was still a couple days till Christmas, but he could not bear it in that house anymore. He got lost in his thoughts, and before he knew it, he arrived at the doorstep of his lover. Corey did not realize where he was walking and now he was here. Should he knock? Should he go? A sudden breeze blew by causing Corey to shiver and huddle closer, unknowingly kicking the door.

“Core?” A sweet and kind voice reached his ears. It was only then that he noticed that his girlfriend had opened the door to her apartment, and was reaching out to the man. He stepped inside once she touched his arm, and felt the warmth breathe into his bones.

“You alright, Core?” She questioned; her face full of concern. He smiled and shook off her worry as he placed his hands along her waist.

“Yeah. I’m alright. Just, needed out of the house. You know?” While his comment was vague, his girlfriend knew exactly what he meant.

“You had another fight with your mom?” Her question was rhetorical, but Corey nodded with a deep sigh, and pressed his head into her neck.

“Yeah.” His muffled voice tickled her lightly, causing a giggle to come out and a hand to start brushing through his curls.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to stay here. I still have you’re drawer and closet space. Want to help me decorate for Yule?” Pressing a gentle kiss to his head, his lover’s question was out of genuine interest and it made Corey happy. He nodded up and down into her neck, causing another fit of giggles over his stubble rubbing up against her. Pulling apart, Corey was eager to follow as he was dragged by the hand over to where some decorations laid in boxes.

“Okay. Let’s decorate.” The couple found themselves falling into an easy routine. Corey enjoyed being able to put up all the pine, holly, and runes around the rooms. At some point, he found himself hanging up a wreath above the television while she made a simmer pot on the stove. It provided an incredible smell to the whole home and made Corey enjoy this even more. His girlfriend came over at some point to take him away from his decorating skills with a dark blue and gold mug in each hand.

“Wassail?” She asked, holding the mugs up higher. Corey took one with glee and followed her onto the couch.

“Mhmm. What is this? This is amazing!” He complimented, watching his lover’s cheeks became set aflame as she tried to hid it in her mug.

“It’s basically spiced apple cider, brewed with intentions. It’s a traditional Yule drink, and it’s one of my favorite things about the season.” She explained, watching him drink even more of it.

“Well, I love it.” He concluded, and that led them into a moment of silence. Their eyes scanned the room and enjoyed what they saw. The decorations were hung up faster than usual having two people instead of one but it made them all that much better. Some of them were slightly taller than usual on account of Corey’s incredible height. The burst of color filled the bland apartment, and Corey just felt home. This was his home. Neither one spoke, just sipped their wassail, and enjoyed being with each other during the holidays. It felt oddly domestic for Corey, but he certainly was not turning it down. This was going to be his favorite Christmas, by far. As well as his first, of hopefully many, Yule celebrations.

#rebelliousstories #writing #halloween ends #halloween imagine #halloween ends imagine #corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham imagine #corey cunningham #25 days of christmas #25 days of ficmas #ficmas 2023

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kmomof4 · 4 months

Text

A Christmas Surprise: Ch. 4

It's the 🎶final chapter🎶 (yes, I know I'm really dating myself with those notes, but I don't care. I just have to...) and all the happy endings are here!!! Thank you all so much for reading and MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Summary: Elsa Jones enlists her friend Emma Swan to come up with a scheme to surprise her niece Alice Jones when her Papa, Killian, returns from deployment just in time for Christmas.

From the beginning on ao3/ Current ch

Rating G Total Christmas fluff ahead!

Words: Almost 6200 of 18,5K

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @xarandomdreamx @undercaffinatednightmare @the-darkdragonfly @stahlop @superchocovian @pirateprincessofpizza @tiganasummertree @anmylica @cosette141 @motherkatereloyshipper @zaharadessert @jonesfandomfanatic @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @kymbersmith-90 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @wistfulcynic @mie779 @snowbellewells @lfh1226-linda @aprilqueen84 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @pirateherokillian @elfiola @ilovemesomekillianjones @justanother-unluckysoul@poptart-cat-78 @myfearless-love @goforlaunchcee @searchingwardrobes @gingerpolyglot @gingerchangeling @djlbg @cocohook38 @cs-rylie @thisonesatellite @donteattheappleshook @deckerstarblanche @veryverynotgoodwrites @wefoundloveunderthelight @fleurdepetite @alexa-fangirl-forever @bluewildcatfanatic @qualitycoffeethings

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The month had flown by, and Killian was due to report back in Boston in less than a week. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to say goodbye to Alice and Emma, even if it was only during the work week. Since Alice was in the middle of the school year in a school she loved, Killian didn’t see the need to bring her to Boston with him when he was planning on being in Storybrooke every weekend anyway. There was no way he was going to stay away from Emma from the first of February to mid April, when he’d finally be separating from the US Navy.

While January had been a desperately needed respite from his normal duties in the Navy, that didn’t mean he’d been idle. He’d spent every minute he could with Emma, falling more and more in love with her as he did, in between sitting for his licensure exam that he blew out of the water, and pursuing the job opportunity in Storybrooke that looked better and better every day. Nemo had said, even before he’d submitted his résumé, that he didn’t foresee any problems bringing him on, but they were now nearly to the target date Nemo had mentioned for having an offer in hand, if he were to be hired.

Killian was making himself an afternoon snack when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Hello?”

“Killian?”

Killian’s heart rate sped up when Nemo spoke on the other end of the line.

“Yes, sir,” he greeted the man that he hoped would be his boss in a few months.

Nemo chuckled and Killian’s hope soared.

“Well, there’s no real reason to beat around the bush,” the older man said. “The job is yours if you want it.”

Killian held the phone away from his mouth for a moment as he silently crowed at the ceiling and raised his fist in the air, before drawing it sharply back down in a ‘YESSSS’ gesture.

“I definitely do, Sir.” There was no need to talk to anyone about the decision. He knew he had Liam and Elsa’s full support to pursue and accept the offer when it came, and he’d had enough discussions with Alice to know that she desperately hoped he’d get the job as well. And Emma’s words on New Year’s Eve were the final green light he needed to accept the proposal.

“Excellent,” Nemo said. “You’ll be leading the department. With your experience in the Navy, I can’t think of anyone better suited to do so.”

Killian was stunned, and had to snap his hanging jaw shut before speaking. “Th- Thank you, Sir,” he stammered. “I’m honored.”

“When is your retirement date? I have it here somewhere…” Killian could hear papers rustling over the line and chuckled.

“April 10th is my last day of duty and the ceremony is on the 11th.”

“Very good. How about you start the following Monday, the 16th?” he asked. “That’ll give you a few days of downtime with your family, and to decompress a bit before we throw you in the deep end.” They both laughed at Nemo’s choice of words.

“Good thing I’m in the Navy, then,” Killian quipped. “I’m used to swimming in deep water.” Nemo laughed good naturedly.

“Did you have any other questions for me that we haven’t already addressed? The official offer will be emailed to you in a few minutes. Just for you to have for your records. Can you come in on Monday to get your paperwork squared away and meet a few folks?”

“Yes, I can, Sir,” he replied. “And I don’t have any questions. The offer is very generous, and I’m excited to be leading the team.”

“It’ll be good to have you, Killian. Come in Monday anytime after ten.”

“I will do that, Sir. Thank you.”

Killian hung up his phone and immediately checked his email. There it was. The employment offer that was going to make all his dreams come true. Killian could have leapt with joy.

After another fist pump, Killian ran for the stairs to go tell Liam and Elsa. He would have preferred to share the news with Alice and Emma first, but Alice was at dance class for a little while longer and Emma was at her house. There was no way he’d be able to contain his excitement until he could tell them, so he had to go with who was readily available. Liam had come home early for some reason and had immediately gone upstairs without so much as saying hello when Killian passed him on his way to the kitchen.

He came to a stop outside their bedroom to see Elsa sitting on the end of the bed, her head in her hands, Liam sitting next to her rubbing circles into her back. His excited words died on his lips completely.

Liam looked up at him. His eyes were slightly glazed, and Killian wondered if he really saw him standing there. He looked completely shell shocked, and Elsa’s posture was no better. She rubbed both of her temples, and Killian could just hear low mutterings coming from her mouth.

“Hey, guys,” he said, coming in slowly. “What’s wrong?”

Elsa raised her head, and threw it back laughing. It had a manic quality to it that made Killian even more nervous.

“Your brother,” she began, pointing at Liam who still sat on the bed, his hand on her back.

“M-, ME?!” Liam sputtered.

“Yes, you!”

“Last I checked, babe, it takes two to tango.”

Killian’s confusion suddenly cleared and he moved to the bathroom to see a little white stick sitting on the vanity. PREGNANT showed clearly in the tiny window. Killian had to press his lips together hard to keep from laughing. It may have been a lot of years since he’d had to concern himself with women’s cycles, but it wasn’t rocket science to figure out that his brother and sister-in-law had made fireworks of their own on New Year’s, and this was the result.

“Congratulations,” Killian said, coming back in the room, smirk planted firmly on his face. He could understand their shock and surprise. Elsa was closing in on forty, and Liam was well past that milemarker. Plus, the twins were thirteen years old, and would be fourteen before their new sibling made their appearance. They obviously needed some time to themselves to come to terms with the hard left turn their lives had just taken. But he still wanted to share his own news with them. “I have some good news of my own, if you’re ready to hear it.”

That got both their attentions. Their countenances cleared and a wide smile broke on Elsa’s face.

“Did you hear from Nemo?” Liam asked.

“I did.”

Elsa let out a loud whoop and launched herself at him. But before she reached him, her hand flew to her mouth and she ran for the bathroom instead. He could hear her retching as he followed his brother who’d rushed after her. Killian stood in the doorway to see Liam hovering, and Elsa waving him away.

“This is all your fault,” she said in between heaves, a petulant whine in her voice. “Get away from me.” She disappeared behind the wall separating the toilet from the rest of the bathroom again; whatever she’d eaten earlier making another appearance. “Congratulations, Killian,” she wheezed when she was done. She made it to her feet, slapping Liam’s hand away as he tried to help her up. “Did you tell us first?” she asked. “It’s almost time to go pick up Alice! She’ll be ecstatic!” Killian turned to go, when Elsa spoke again. “Don’t say anything to the kids about this yet.” She waved her hand around in an aimless gesture. “We’ll make an announcement… sometime. Soon.”

“Just the kids?” Killian asked.

“Ohhhh,” Elsa said, realization coming over her. “Yeah, go ahead. You can tell Emma.”

Killian smiled at them both and all but ran from the room.

~*~*~

Killian grinned widely when Alice came out of dance class. As soon as she was in her booster in the back seat with her seatbelt on, Killian turned to her.

“So, you want to stay in Storybrooke, Starfish?”

Alice’s eyes got as big as saucers. “Did you get the job at Uncle Liam’s, Papa?”

“I did,” he replied. Alice’s shout was loud enough to burst his ear drums. “He called a little bit before I came to get you. I’ll start on April 16th.”

Alice unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the front seat to hug him as tightly as she could in the awkward position.

“I’m so excited, Papa!” she exclaimed. “So what does that mean? What’s going to happen?”

“Just like what we’ve talked about, Starfish,” he reminded her. “I’ll be heading back to Boston on Wednesday night after you go to bed. I’ll be there Thursday and Friday before coming back Friday night to spend the weekend with all of you. Then I’ll be going back to Boston again Sunday night for the whole week, and I’ll be here on the weekends. I’ll do that every week until I retire on April 11th. You’ll be staying here while I’m there, living with Uncle Liam and Aunt Elsa and your cousins, going to school and dance and all the things you normally do.”

“And after you retire, we’ll still live with Uncle Liam and Aunt Elsa?” she asked.

Killian chuckled. “Oh, no. We’ll move into our own home after I retire.” Killian thought about the house Liam had told him about. It was still on the market, but Killian hadn’t wanted to really look at it until he had the offer in hand. And now that he did, he could begin seriously looking for a home that would accommodate him and Alice and perhaps a couple of others, as well. Killian couldn’t keep the smile off his face if he tried.

“Yayyyy!!!” Alice shouted again, bouncing in her seat.

“Now I want to go see Emma and tell her,” Killian said. “Do you want me to take you home or do you want to come with me?”

Alice bounced in her seat again. “Come with! Come with!”

Killian chuckled and turned the car on. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

No sooner had Killian brought the car to a stop in Emma’s driveway than Alice was out like a shot, shouting as she ran for the front door.

“Miss Swan! Henry! Papa got the job! We’re staying in Storybrooke!”

Killian knew his smile was ridiculously wide with how much his cheeks were hurting, but he couldn’t begrudge his daughter being the one to break the news. He caught up to her as she banged on the door, opened moments later by Henry, followed closely by Emma.

“What?” asked Henry, his own smile taking over his face.

“Papa got the job!” Alice repeated. “We’re staying in Storybrooke!”

Emma’s face looked like the sun coming out from behind the clouds after a storm. She ran for him, and he caught her in his arms, spinning her around as she hugged him tightly and showered kisses all over his face.

Once he put Emma down, Henry and Alice scurried off to his room to play and Emma showed Killian into the living room.

“I’m so happy for you, Killian,” Emma said, sitting down next to him and holding his hand tightly.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “It’s a relief to be sure.” Killian looked her full in the face. “And now that I have the offer in hand, I can start moving forward into this next phase of my life.” He paused and scratched at the spot behind his ear, his eyes skittering away from hers for a moment. He took a deep breath, and met her gaze again, his eyes full of love and hope. “A phase that I hope I’ll have a companion for.”

Emma gasped. They had of course talked about the job and the opportunity it would present for him and Alice, but they’d been careful to steer away from what it might mean for them. But now that the job was certain…

“Calm down, Swan. I’m not proposing.” Emma hoped she kept the surprise and slight disappointment off of her face, but wasn’t sure she succeeded when he winked at her. Or attempted to, anyway. “You’ll know when I do,” he assured her. Emma giggled. “Anyway,” he continued, “I’ll need to start looking for a house for myself and Alice to move into once I’m here permanently. And I was hoping you might join me in that search. To help me find a house for all of us. Where we can be a family.” He paused again, giving her a moment to absorb everything he’d already shared.

“I love you, Emma.”

A gasping sob escaped her and she grabbed him around the neck and pulled him to her until their lips joined in a joyful expression of love, both felt and reciprocated. When air became necessary, she pulled back.

“I love you, too, Killian.”

Killian surged forward and captured her lips with his own, pushing her back on the sofa until she was reclined and every part of her body was fully lined up to his. The passionate kiss they shared was making his head spin, but he knew they couldn’t go any further, not with their children in the next room. Very reluctantly, he pulled back.

“We have to stop, Swan,” he said, “As much as I don’t want to.”

“I know,” she agreed, her own reluctance on full display.

Killian rolled off of her, tucking himself between her and the back of the sofa. “I just had a thought. What would you think about coming down to Boston the Thursday after Valentine's Day? We could have a nice dinner without fighting all the Valentines’ crowds and you could spend the night?” It was a question, and she knew exactly what he was asking. She had to admit, it was something she’d definitely thought about and he obviously had, too.

“I think that sounds like a fine idea, Captain.” She lifted up slightly and kissed him.

“Then I could take Friday off and we could do some touristy things around town before coming home a bit earlier than I normally would.” Emma smiled in agreement.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

“You remember what I walked in on on New Year’s?”

Emma’s eyebrows shot up, her cheeks flushing with secondhand embarrassment. “Uh huh.”

“Well, Elsa’s pregnant.”

Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened so much that Killian couldn’t hold back his chuckle.

“Are you kidding me?” She was stunned and couldn’t pretend otherwise.

“Nope,” Killian assured her. “She found out this afternoon. She must have called Liam to come home early. When I came up to tell them about the job, she was…” Killian trailed away, searching for the words. “A bit hysterical? Extremely annoyed? Both? Yes.” He nodded decisively. “Both is good.”

A snort laugh burst out of Emma. “Bless her so much.”

“She said I could tell you, but she doesn’t want to say anything to the kids, just yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Emma said, pursing her lips and miming locking them and throwing away the key. “My lips are sealed.”

Killian chuckled. “I can think of another way to keep those lips busy,” he said, eyebrows waggling.

Emma grinned at him. “A method I highly approve of,” she said, before drawing him down into another kiss, celebrating all the news of the day.

~*~*~

The next day was Saturday, and Emma and Elsa were finally enjoying their joint spa day. After the news she’d received the day before, Elsa was especially ready and thankful for it.

Once the ladies were gone, Liam joined Killian in the kitchen where he was just finishing his coffee.

“You ready?”

Killian took his last swallow and got up to put the mug in the sink. “Yep. Let’s go.”

When he had come back home yesterday after giving Emma the news, Killian asked Liam if they could go look at the house he had told him about while the ladies were occupied Saturday morning. Liam’s grin was blinding as he made all the arrangements.

Now they were pulling up in front of a beautiful Nantucket style three story home. It was sky blue with a huge wraparound front porch and a three story turret anchoring the front facade.

Killian’s jaw hung open slightly as Liam opened the gate of the white picket fence on the edge of the sidewalk and moved toward the steps leading up to the front porch. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it as he followed Liam, almost in a daze.

Once inside, Liam took him through the house, from the basement to the finished third story that would be ideal for an office or a game room when the kids were a little older. Or, and a small smile turned up his lips at the thought, perhaps another bedroom, if needed. But as it was, the house was beautiful, inside and out, with all the room they needed for a growing family. The price was a little higher than he wanted, but it had been on the market, sitting empty, since autumn, so Killian was hopeful the sellers would be willing to come down a bit in order to get it off their hands.

Killian’s excitement was sending his heart rate into overdrive. This house was perfect in every way, but he needed to get Emma’s input as well. If she was going to be a part of his life going forward and a part of his family in the not-too-distant future, she needed to be on board with whatever home he bought. The ladies would be done with their pampering about one o’clock; maybe he could bring her over afterward to have a look at it.

“Could I bring Emma back this afternoon when they’re done to have a look?” Killian asked his brother. “I love it. It’s perfect. But I can’t in good conscience make an offer on a place that I would hope will be a home for all of us without getting her opinion first.”

“I completely understand, Brother. And I agree,” Liam said. “Let me let the seller’s agent know, and I’ll give you the key.”

Killian nodded and turned around in a full circle looking at the main floor of the house. He imagined moving into this beautiful home- Emma, Alice, and Henry with him- filling it with love and laughter for a lifetime.

~*~*~

A few hours later, he parked his own car in front of the house and looked at Emma in the passenger seat. Her face was very much like his when he’d seen it for the first time earlier. Killian couldn’t keep the grin off his face if he tried.

“What do you think?”

“It… it’s gorgeous,” she breathed. “Have you…?”

“Swan! No!” he exclaimed, completely shocked she would even ask him that. “I’d never make that kind of decision or make a purchase like this without talking to you first.” He took her hands in his and looked her right in the eyes. “Not if we’re going to have a future together.”

Emma’s heart completely melted. She already knew she loved him, but this was just another confirmation that her heart and soul had found a haven in his. She reached up and pulled him to her in a kiss that he eagerly reciprocated and that quickly turned heated.

“Come on,” he said, pulling away some moments later. “Let me show you the inside.”

Emma followed Killian through the gate and up the front steps. It was the most beautiful house she’d ever seen, the wraparound porch a feature that she’d always wanted in a home. When she’d bought the house she lived in now, her budget didn’t come anywhere close to affording a house with a porch like that. But, she had to try to keep her excitement in check. Killian obviously wanted her honest opinion on the house that he hoped would be a home for all of them, and she couldn’t let her immediate affection for the exterior drive that opinion. The house would have to meet certain thresholds in order to be something they could all live in for many years to come.

And as Killian took her through the house, it became quite obvious that it met every single one of those thresholds. A wide open floor plan and tall ceilings weren’t necessary, but were very welcome additions to the generous square footage, ample storage, kitchen and bath upgrades that thrilled Emma to no end, large bedrooms and even enough room for any future children they might have.

Emma looked at Killian, a soft smile on her face as she imagined moving into this beautiful home with Killian, Henry, and Alice by her side. It was everything she could have hoped and dreamed of.

“So what do you think, Swan?” Killian asked, love and hope in his eyes.

“I love it, Killian,” she said sincerely. She stepped toward him and took his hands in hers, her gaze meeting his. “I can see us, all of us, living here for many, many years. Many happy years.”

The relieved grin on Killian’s face, made her own smile bloom before she drew him into another kiss. When they separated, Killian wrapped his arms around her as they both turned and looked out the back window to the large backyard where the kids would no doubt spend many hours playing.

“I didn’t even ask,” Emma began. “What are they asking for this place?”

“It’s a little more than I can afford,” Killian said, “but it’s been sitting empty for four months, so I’m hoping they’ll be a little more motivated to come down on their asking price.”

“With my income, you could probably afford it,” she suggested.

“Yes, but we’re not married yet, and that will create all kinds of complications that we really don’t need to deal with right now,” he explained, kissing her on the tip of her nose.

“Hmmm, yes, that’s true,” she agreed, smiling at the tender gesture.

“I’ll talk to Liam, make them an offer, and see what they say,” he continued. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could have this squared away before I go back to Boston?” The hope in his eyes made her smile and matched the joy in her own.

“Yes, it really would.”

~*~*~

Retirement day had finally arrived. His last two months, one week, and two days of duty were over and all that was left now was the ceremony that would signify his official separation from the United States Navy. He couldn’t believe how quickly the time had gone. Living it day to day, he didn’t think this day would ever get here, but looking back, the time really had flown by.

The offer he’d given Liam for the house back at the end of January had been eagerly accepted by the sellers, even at significantly below their asking price. His offer wasn’t unfair, but he’d fully expected them to counter, and when they didn’t, he was stunned. They’d closed on the house on Saturday just a couple of weeks ago, to accommodate Killian’s work schedule, and he and Emma had been busy both weekends since, moving boxes and some furniture into it, so they’d be able to fully move in tomorrow. The movers would be collecting the rest of his and Alice’s furniture in Boston tomorrow and bringing it all to Storybrooke. He hoped to be fully moved in and unpacked before he started at Storybrooke Real Estate on Monday.

After Emma visited him in Boston in February, they figured it was time for him to meet her parents. Mary Margaret Swan had immediately welcomed him into their family with open arms. It took just a little longer to win David over, but now the bromance between him and David flourished after Killian assured him of the honor of his intentions.

He peeked through the curtain to see all his loved ones arriving en masse and making their way to the front of the room. As the family members of the retiree, they had reserved seating. Seeing Emma there surrounded by his family and hers, sudden inspiration hit him. There was only one thing missing that would make this day truly perfect. When she spotted him looking at her through the curtain, he signaled her to join him. She turned to her mother for a moment and then started toward the podium and backdrop.

Emma came around the edge of the curtain where Killian waited for her to join him before gathering her into his arms and planting a kiss on her lips that wasn’t nearly enough, but would have to be, given their present location.

“Emma,” he said, sinking down on one knee, “I know you probably didn’t expect this today, but when I saw you come into the room, all I could think of was that I wanted you by my side today as my fiancée, not my girlfriend.” He pulled a small, black velvet box out of his dress blues pocket. Emma gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “These last four months since we met have been the best of my life. I love you more than words can express, more than I ever believed possible. Would you make me the happiest man alive and consent to be my wife?”

Emma’s eyes were filled with tears and she could barely see straight to nod and hold her hand out for him to put the beautiful round diamond solitaire on her finger. She knelt in front of him, taking his face in her hands. The tears escaped her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks as she pulled him to her and kissed him with all the love in her heart.

When they pulled back, she touched her forehead to his, tears still streaking down her face.

“I love you, Killian,” she whispered. “And yes, I want nothing more than to be by your side today as your fiancée.” They were both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the love between them. “I should probably go back out there. They’ll be wondering what’s going on.”

Killian chuckled. “Don’t say anything. Let’s see if anyone notices. If they don’t, we’ll announce it at the reception.”

Emma smiled her agreement. They got to their feet, and Emma moved around the curtain to go back to her seat. Killian peeked through the drape again and saw her sit down on the front row, Elsa on one side of her, Mary Margaret on the other. Killian grinned and pulled back from the drape only to hear twin squeals from the other side of the curtain. He moved back, a wide grin spreading on his face as he saw his fiancée showing off her ring to her best friend and mother.

It was going to be quite a party this afternoon, and he couldn’t wait.

~*~*~

Emma sat before the vanity on her wedding day, watching as her mother gathered her hair into an elegant bun at the nape of her neck and tucked the comb holding her veil underneath.

Everything was ready for her to join her life with the love of her life, Killian Jones.

She rose from her stool and turned to face her mother, best friend, and daughter.

“Oh, Mama,” Alice breathed. “You look so beautiful.”

Emma smiled at the child, her heart swelling with love for her. Once school let out last May, Emma and Killian had both initiated adoption proceedings for Alice and Henry, with Emma’s adoption of Alice going through in August and Killian’s adoption of Henry finalizing just last month due to residency requirements.

“Thank you, baby,” Emma said, opening her arms for her hug. She felt the tears fill her eyes as she looked at her mom and Elsa. Elsa’s own eyes glistened with tears as well. She was radiant in the ice blue gown she wore. You couldn’t even tell that she’d given birth three months ago to a daughter, Lila Emily Rose.

When they first talked about dates for the wedding, Killian had suggested August, thinking that would be plenty of time for the planning, but Elsa, Mary Margaret, and Emma herself had loudly protested that it wasn’t nearly enough time. Plus there was the fact that Elsa didn’t want to be walking down the aisle as Matron of Honor nine months pregnant. And so December 15th was chosen, one year to the day since their meeting.

“You look so beautiful, too.” She stepped back, holding Alice’s hands, then releasing one as Alice spun a perfect pirouette under her arm, the skirt of her dress, a smaller version of Elsa’s, flaring out before settling back around her ankles.

“Your father is gonna cry,” Mary Margaret said, completing the teary eyed trio. “We’re so happy this day has finally come. You’re marrying Killian, joining together to create a new family.” Mary Margaret sniffed, and Elsa handed her a handkerchief.

“One year ago today, I saw something that I’d despaired of ever seeing- my brother-in-law, Killian Jones, noticing a woman,” Elsa said, her smile nostalgic as she remembered Emma and Killian’s first meeting. “He’d been alone for six years, but he was smitten with you from that very first moment, and my heart rejoiced. And now here you are, a year later, about to join your lives together, forever.” Mary Margaret handed the handkerchief back to Elsa when a tear escaped and ran down her face. Emma chuckled and then wiped away her own tears.

Outside the room, they could hear the organ beginning to play Sheep May Safely Graze, the last piece before Mary Margaret was to be seated. They moved from the Bride’s Room to the vestibule, where Emma’s dad, Liam, and Henry waited for them.

Elsa and her mother took their places on either side of Liam, and Alice took Henry’s arm, making Emma’s eyes fill with tears yet again. Henry was growing up much too fast. Holding his arm out to his best friend and now sister, just like a little gentleman, made her realize just how quickly time passed. She shouldn’t be able to see glimpses of the man he would one day become, not yet. She looked at her loved ones, meeting their eyes in turn, accepting the love and joy they all had for her on this special day. Having them all here on the happiest day of her life- loving and supporting her, loving and supporting them- made the day perfect. In every way.

“I’ve waited for this day for years,” David whispered. “In the sense that I hoped you’d one day find someone to love. Someone to love you and Henry the way you deserve. Someone to walk beside you through all the ups and downs of life. Killian is everything a father could want for his daughter and I cannot be happier.” The smile on his face was happy and sad at the same time, and Emma could no longer hold back her tears. She moved toward him, hugging him tightly, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Emma pulled back and took a deep breath, accepting the now ruined handkerchief from Elsa to dab at her own eyes. Pachebel’s Canon in D was beginning, and Liam led Mary Margaret from the vestibule into the sanctuary. She carried two tall taper candles that she’d place on either side of the Unity candle Emma and Killian would light toward the end of the ceremony. In the absence of Killian’s own mother, he’d asked her if she would step in and fill the role.

Only a few minutes later, Liam and Elsa walked down the aisle, followed by Henry and Alice.

Emma felt David turn toward her, so she raised her eyes to meet his. Tears glistened in them and his smile trembled slightly at the corners.

“This is the… third best day of my life,” he said. “First was marrying your mother. Second was the day of your birth. And now today.”

Emma had nothing to say, so she simply rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

“Are you ready to give me away, Daddy?”

David nodded. “Let's go.”

The doors to the sanctuary opened as the opening bars of the Trumpet Voluntary began to play. She and David entered, and her eyes immediately landed on Killian. He wore his Navy Captain dress blue uniform, and Emma caught her breath at how handsome he was.

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him as they continued moving forward. He beamed as he watched her, his smile lighting up his eyes and his entire face with profound love and unspeakable joy.

When they reached Killian and Liam, the four of them faced the vicar.

“Welcome everyone, to the wedding of Emma Swan and Killian Jones,” he began, addressing the small congregation. He turned his eyes upon David. “Who gives this woman in marriage?”

“Her mother and I do,” David answered. He turned to Emma and placed a tender kiss on her cheek before turning to Killian and placing Emma’s hand in his. With a nod and smile of approval and affection, David turned and took his place next to Mary Margaret to watch the rest of the ceremony.

Emma, Killian, Elsa, and Liam followed the vicar up the steps to the stage before he turned to them and began the ceremony.

Killian couldn’t take his eyes off of his bride. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, period, but today, she was literally breathtaking. She wore a simple gown in a slimline style with a sleeveless deep v-neck wrapped bodice with a satin skirt. Her hair was pulled back into a soft bun, her veil trailing down from the bun almost to the floor. He’d never beheld a more exquisite sight. He missed what all the vicar was saying, simply soaking in the vision that was his almost wife, until he announced it was time for the vows.

“Emma Swan,” he breathed. “I think I may have fallen in love with you on the very day we met. I knew that day my life was about to change for the better, and that sentiment has been proven correct many, many times over. You’ve made my life complete, Emma. I can’t imagine loving you more than I do right now, although I know I will as we walk through life together, because my love for you has grown every single day already. This day do I pledge thee my troth, to share everything in life, the good and the bad. No matter what the future holds, I want you to be certain that I will always, always be by your side. I love you, Emma.”

A hiccupping sob escaped Emma’s lips as she prepared to share her own vows.

“Killian, the day I met you, I had a feeling that there were many wonderful things to come. To look forward to, having you in my life. And it was hardly any time at all before I knew that I loved you and wanted to spend my life with you. Killian, you are the best man I know and I love you deeply. Truly. This day, in the sight of God and our dearly loved friends and family, I promise to love you. To honor you, respect you, cherish you. Walking through life together, the ups and the downs, will be a great adventure with you by my side. Until death do us part.”

Killian swallowed heavily. “And I promise to love, honor, respect, and cherish you, Emma, until death do us part.”

Once the vows were spoken, they exchanged rings, solid white gold bands, the vicar speaking a blessing over the rings. As they moved to light the Unity candle, the vicar read from the Book of Ruth, the passage speaking of never leaving the other, as long as they both shall live.

They returned to the vicar at the foot of the stage where he proudly proclaimed, “Killian, you may kiss your bride!”

Killian grinned, his eyebrows waggling as he took Emma in his arms and dipped her back before joining his lips to hers. The congregation around them erupted into shouts and cheers, but they were oblivious to all of it, simply soaking in the love they had for one another as their lips moved together.

Long moments later, he finally raised them back up and they turned toward all their loved ones as the vicar announced them.

“Presenting Captain and Mrs. Killian Jones!”

The congregation again erupted in cheers as Emma and Killian proceeded back down the aisle, followed by Liam and Elsa, then Henry and Alice.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think! Merry Christmas!!!

#a christmas surprise #krystal writes #art by krystal #christmas fluff

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