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roses-for-rosalyn · 7 months

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Cowboys

Ellie x reader (for now)

Part 2

summary: A stranger comes to your door- it turns out it's not one of your usual encounters cw: guns, cowboy lingo, fem! reader, cowboy crossdresser Ellie, eventual smut, blood, injuries, your average confusing lesbianism, eventual smut, no use of y/n wc: 3.6k

for those who prefer ao3 <3 gotchu minors DNI (I will steal all you pillowcases)

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Nothing could beat the beauty of the sunset in the desert. Purples, blues, oranges, and yellows swirled together to paint a new masterpiece every night. And every night you would sit on your small, wooden porch with a cup of tea and watch as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. Tonight was no exception.

The sky becomes darker and darker until the moon and the stars come out, bathing the desert in a silver light. You struggle with the stubborn, old front door for a moment before you step into your little ranch house.

A chill runs through you as the temperature outside rapidly declines. You kneel in front of the fireplace and use the little kindling you have for a fire. It was enough to keep you warm for a few hours while you read yourself to sleep. Sometimes you felt lucky that it was a small enough house that the small fire would warm up the whole place. Your bed was just a few paces away from the mantle.

You stand up and dust off your hands before starting to undress for bed. As you begin to unbutton your bodice a knock sounds from the front door.

You scramble for your rifle by your bedside and check to make sure it’s loaded. You peek through one of your front windows to catch a glimpse of the mysterious stranger. At this hour and on the edge of town, your visitors weren’t usually friendly.

It seems a cowboy has paid you a visit this evening. Haven’t seen one of those in a damn long time. A gun is proudly holstered on his hip next to a lasso, and his black large-brimmed hat keeps his face dark enough that you can’t quite make it out.

He knocks again, louder. You creep up to the front door and slowly open it. Before he can process who opened the door you aim your rifle right at his chest.

“Hands up.” You demand, your voice is surprisingly steady.

“Woah there, I just stopped to ask for some directions.” A deep, yet feminine voice replies. It sounds like she was all too sure you weren’t going to be using that weapon on her, she didn’t even bother to move. You cock the gun, trying like hell to keep your expression blank, unphased while your entire body fills with adrenaline. She takes a step back and puts her hands up. Her hat still covers her face in shadow, it’s like confronting a ghost.

“You should have stopped somewhere else.” You take a step towards her, closing the door behind you while keeping your vision trained on the woman.

“You’re much different than the other women I’ve run into out here.” She looks up slightly, the moonlight illuminating pink, slightly chapped lips forming a smug smirk. “Where’s your husband, miss?”

“I swear if you don’t get back on your goddamn horse I’ll put a hole right through your chest.” she steps towards you, the muzzle of the gun pokes right under her collarbone.

She finally looks at you, silver light exposes a sharp, feminine face dotted with freckles darkened by days in the sun. The sight of her face catches you off guard for just enough time, allowing her to grab the barrel of the rifle and pull it right out of your hands. She drops the gun and it clatters loudly to the ground, echoing through the empty desert landscape. She grabs your wrists before you can start fighting back and pins them above your head against the door with one hand.

“There,” she grunts as you struggle against her grip, she’s surprisingly strong, “now we can have a conversation.”

“Go to Hell.” You say, seething with rage and frustration because she was able to overpower you so easily. She shakes her head and laughs for a moment, saying something under her breath like all this trouble.

You were just about to spit in her face when she said, “Where’s the nearest hotel darlin’?” Your eyes widen at the innocent question, slightly embarrassed. This was a first, she really just needed directions. She uses your stunned silence to talk some more, “I’ve been savin’ up so I could have a bed for the night. And I could really really use a bed tonight, miss.” You stop struggling against her grip and she lets go. She still has that stupid smirk on her face. “So if you could point me in the right direction it would be much appreciated.”

“Head southwest, you’ll hit a trail that will lead you right into town.” You dust off your dress and straighten it out.

“Much appreciated, darlin’.” She tips her hat and walks off toward her horse. You watch in shock as she mounts her horse and before riding away she says just loud enough, “I’ll be seein’ you.” And with a nod, she was off.

You slowly bend down to pick up the Winchester, cradling it against your chest as you watch the stranger disappear into the night. As you head inside you wonder if you ever will see that strange woman again, and fall asleep debating whether or not you would want to.

** **

The next morning you head to the school house. The steady feeling and sound of your horse trotting along the dirt path always forced your mind to wander elsewhere. Right now you couldn’t stop thinking about the woman from last night. The schoolhouse was right in the middle of town, would you see her again? Would she even recognize you? If she did, would she even try to talk to you?

The interaction was a bit embarrassing for you, but to be fair you had your fair share of vile men looking for trouble and hostile groups of Apache knocking on your front door. Your father had taught you how to use his Winchester rifle, the very same rifle you use now, and you mentally thanked him for it every night. You had only used it to kill one man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and you gave him plenty of warnings. He didn’t believe your threats so now he was buried about 500 feet from the house in an unmarked grave, you were sure no one would miss a man like that. Most of the time the Apache would just come to ask questions about men passing through the area, they never tried to attack you, thankfully, but they would always come at the most ungodly hours and were quite impatient.

Last night was a first, you had never had a cowboy knock at your door, and then she ended up being a woman. The idea of her was so intriguing and you couldn’t figure out why. For some reason, she shook you more than anyone else had since you lived out here. And you’d seen quite a lot.

Your thoughts are interrupted as you reach town, the sound of rickety carriages, hooves against the packed dirt road, and the chatter of men in front of the Sheriff’s Office make it hard to focus.

“Hello there, sunshine!” you hear a male voice call out. You turn towards the voice to see Jesse making his way past you on horseback, lugging today's newspapers to the apothecary. He made the trip from Sante Fe every morning. He was nice enough, you liked talking to him, but not as much as you felt like you should. The ladies at the apothecary, Dina, and Maria, would always encourage you to talk to him. They desperately wanted you to move on from your husband. He was long gone and you knew that, you were even thankful for it, which is why you were nervous to start again. You didn’t want to have to go through anything like that again.

You wave back and smile, “Hi there, Jesse.” You decide to be polite, “Hear anything good today?” He tightens the reins of his horse and stops right next to you.

“They struck gold in Elizabethtown, and there’s gonna be a shortage of tobacco ‘round these parts within the week because of a dust storm over in Tennessee.”

“Well, I’m sure they’ll have a panic on their hands pretty soon then. I don’t know a man here who can live without their cigars.” You smile and Jesse laughs politely at your attempt at a joke.

“Alright, don’t want the kids to show up before I do, I'd best be headin’ to the school.” You yearned to leave this awkward conversation through any means possible. Today was not the day for small talk.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then, miss.” Your head snaps towards Jesse. You’re suddenly transported to last night and listening to the way the cowboy’s words would drip from her lips, smooth as honey “Miss”. Calm and sure even with a gun pointed right to her heart.

You quickly snap out of it and nod politely at Jesse as you begin to part ways. You head to the schoolhouse in a hurry, the kids gave you hell if you were late.

** **

You’re beginning to lock up the schoolhouse when you hear footsteps approaching. “Well hello there, miss.” You recognize the voice all too quickly, you don’t even need to turn around. “Was really hopin’ I’d find you here.”

As you fish into your pocket for the key you respond, “And how exactly did you find me here?” you turn around and begin to walk past her toward your horse. She follows you. From a brief glance at her, you can see she wears a bandana to cover her face, you could only see her eyes. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I just asked those nice ladies at the apothecary if they knew the women who lived just outside of town, they were more than happy a “nice gentleman” took interest in you. They told me just about everything they knew, your name, some snippets of gossip. I’m sure if I stayed they would’ve told me your life story” You finally turn to face her, your expression unamused. She took her hat off at some point when she was talking to you, her eyes are green, radiant in the unrelenting desert sunlight. You were almost jealous. She wore a dark blue button-down that sat surprisingly flat against her chest and suspenders. She could pass for a man if she wanted to. “So, I take it you don’t have a husband then?”

“What’s it to you?” you cross your arms, defensively.

“I was just curious, I asked last night, but you weren’t exactly in a talking mood.” You swear you can make out her smirk under the bandana.

“No, I haven’t had a husband for quite a while. Is that what you came all the way here to ask me?” She lowers her bandana and steps towards you, backing you into your horse.

“No, I came to ask a favor.” She hesitates for a moment, “No one here can know that I’m, um, well you know..”

“A woman?” pretty easy to piece together after seeing the bandana.

“Yea,” She backs away from you a little. Seems like someone is embarrassed to ask a favor. “It’s just easier for me to get things this way and it’s lookin’ like I’ll be staying later than I planned so..”

“Alright, I won’t say anything.” She opens her mouth to begin to thank you, but you weren’t about to let an opportunity like this pass you by. “But, you owe me a favor then.”

Her excited expression disappeared as quickly as it came, if you weren’t looking you could have missed it, “Um, alright, what do ya need?”

“You know your little visit last night?” You had been cooking this proposition up all day, hoping she would run into you again.

“Yes.”

“Well, that happens to me about every other day. I don’t want a husband, but I do need a guard dog of some kind.” You didn’t want a man in your home, but you did want the protection of one, this was the perfect opportunity, almost too perfect.

“A guard dog?” She seems mildly offended by you comparing her to a dog.

“I’m tired of not being able to sleep because of surprise visitors. And I’ll pay you in two square meals a day, tea, and my homemade moonshine.” She does not look amused. “And I won’t tell anyone you’re a lady.”

“I don’t know-”

“I know you’re almost out of money, I’m sure Tommy is bleeding you dry as an outside visitor. I won’t charge you anything.” Something in her loosens, you can see it.

“So do I sleep on your floor?”

“Or outside if you’d like, makes no difference to me. There’s a fire pit out there for ya” You turn around and mount your horse, eager to get home. “We got a deal?” You reach your hand down towards her. She hesitates before shaking it.

“I’m Ellie by the way.” You nod

“Alright Ellie, I’ll see you at my house then. I trust you’re familiar with the address” She just nods, slightly shocked. You smile and then head off, the comforting sound of hoofbeats clearing the thoughts in your head. On the way home you tend to just listen to the sounds of the desert. After a day of loud, squealing children it was healing. You’re sure you’d go crazy if you lived in town.

** **

You had just finished making your evening tea when you heard a knock on your door. For the first time in a long time, you don’t go into fight or flight mode. You open the door with a smile, part of you is surprised she even showed up. Your proposition was a little ridiculous, but that truly shows how desperate you are.

“Hello there stranger.” You are really pushing it with this attitude, you can tell, but something in you likes it when she gets annoyed.

“Hi.” She takes off her hat and lowers her bandana, something you’ve observed as a habit of hers, one of respect possibly. “So am I sleepin’ with the rattlesnakes or on your floor?”

“You get bit by a rattlesnake come to me and I’ll suck the venom out myself. Until then you best set up camp before dark darlin’.” You smile at her sweetly.

“Figured as much.” She smirks and walks away to set up camp.

“Dinner’ll be ready in 20 minutes. I hope ya like stew.” You call out to her. “Oh, and there’s a spring out back if you need any water!”

** **

The stew finally thickens up to the way you like it, you pour it into two bowls and quickly slurp up your serving. Didn’t taste amazing, but it was food.

You open your front door to bring Ellie her food and see that she’s already started a fire, she’s sipping from a silver flask just staring at the flames.

You approach and wordlessly hand her a bowl of stew and a spoon. She looks up at you “You gonna eat?”

“No, I- uh already ate.” More like inhaled but she didn’t need to know that. You point at her flask. “What’s in there?”

“You’re tellin’ me you don’t know what’s in here?” She raises her eyebrows.

“I know it’s liquor, Ellie, I’m just askin’ what kind.” Her confused expression drops.

“Whiskey.” She looks at the flask in her hand, then at you. “Want some?” She clearly did not want to offer it to you. But you sit down next to her and reach your hand out for it.

“Hand it over.” She hands you the flask. The metal was cool to the touch, almost shocking after the desert heat all day. You take a sip and the liquor burns its way down your throat, and your face scrunches a little. You were used to shooting whiskey, but this was particularly terrible, even worse than your moonshine. “Wow, that’s pretty awful.”

Ellie laughs between bites of stew, “You’re stew isn’t the greatest thing I’ve tasted either.”

“Hey!” You lightly punch her shoulder. She giggles even more. “You’re welcome for the food by the way.” You take another swig of whiskey and then hand the flask back to the cowgirl.

“Thank you,” she takes the flask, “for the meal.” she hands you her empty bowl. “And a place to stay, even if it’s outside.”

“We’ll see, maybe you’ll earn your way inside.” You take her bowl and turn to head inside.

“Is that a challenge?” She calls after you.

“Maybe.” You call back.

You step inside and immediately undress for bed, the whiskey making your eyes droop closed. You can barely get your buttons undone before you fall into bed, for the first time in a while, not having to worry about dangerous strangers knocking down your door.

** **

You wake up to a hasty knock coming from the front door. It’s still dark outside. You weren’t supposed to have to deal with this anymore. You grab your rifle and don’t even bother checking who is at the door simply out of annoyance. Would have bit you in the ass later if it was a surprise visitor. You open the door and cock the rifle. To your astonishment, you open the door to Ellie, holding her side. There’s a dark stain forming under her hands, her face is bloody and bruised. And yet she’s got a smug yet pained smile on her face. “This how you’re always gonna greet me?”

“Jesus Ellie,” you usher her inside quickly. “What happened?”

“You got some visitors, a group of Apache men.” She sits down in one of your wooden dining room chairs. You rush over to grab the small medical kit you had managed to fashion over the years. “They wanted to see you in particular, when I told them you weren’t accepting visitors they sort of attacked me. It was one versus six”

“They don’t trust many people.” You undo Ellie’s suspenders and begin unbuttoning her shirt without even thinking. “Most folks round here shoot first and ask questions later, they don’t have any respect or patience for a stubborn cowboy.” You walk over, grab a candle and some matches, and light it so you can see. “Can’t say I blame them. I am sorry though I’d thought they’d see your gun and back off”

“That is real optimistic of ya.” You remove her right arm from the sleeve of her shirt. She is wearing some sort of binding around her chest- so that’s how she’s managed to pass for a man.

“Wow, that’s a big word for you.” You smirk at her as you clean your hands with some moonshine.

“Really? I’m bleedin’ out and you’re making fun of me?” You press gauze to her wound, she hisses through her teeth.

“Please, you’re not bleeding out. Shouldn’t even need stitches, just some cleaning and dressing.” You look up at her, you’re not quite sure, but even in the dim candlelight, you could swear she was blushing. You wouldn’t dare mention it when she’s already made herself so vulnerable.

“Now for the hard part.” You take out a small bottle of vinegar.

“Alright.” Ellie leans back in the chair, ready for the sting of the vinegar.

“Here.” You take her left hand and place it on your shoulder. “Squeeze if you need to.” She nods and you take that as your cue to begin. You pour the vinegar on the wound and you watch as her abs contract, her hand squeezes your shoulder, pretty hard, but you know she was trying not to hurt you, even in pain.

You stand up and gently wrap a few layers of gauze around her mid-section, just in case it starts bleeding again during the night. You were so, so close to her, you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “You always wear that?”

“Wear what?”

“The-the bandages, round your chest.” She looks down at them like she almost forgot they were there. Suddenly you realize how personal that question must be. “Sorry, I shouldn’t said anything. You don’t have to answer”

“No, It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’ve worn this for a while now, easier to get around when you look like a man.” You nod and finish wrapping the gauze around her and pin it in place. You put a bit of vinegar on a piece of gauze and begin cleaning the cuts on her face. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, miss.”

“Please just let me clean off your face. Were you planning on walkin’ around town tomorrow with dried blood on your cheeks?” She opens her mouth to say something but closes it. She’s quiet as you gently clean her face, you can see every freckle, every scar, her eyes shining in the candlelight. It was odd being this close to her. You had never felt comfortable being this physically close to someone. Her warmth almost invited you in, made you want to press your nose to her neck, run your hands across her skin, feeling along all the freckles and scars, memorizing the spot of each one. you wanted to know her in a way you have never wanted to know anybody else.

“Hey,” a gentle voice grounds you back into reality. “I think my face is clean.” She smiles softly. She was right, at some point, you had gotten her face completely clean, you’re not sure how long she let you drag the cloth across her freckled cheeks before she said something.

“Yeah, sorry.” You back away and put the blood-soaked gauze in the burn pile. “You should sleep in here. Don’t think anyone else will be coming tonight. I’ll go get your bedroll.” Ellie just nods and you go out to grab her things.

You hurry back and set up her bedroll on the floor right next to your bed. She makes her way to it and sits down on the floor with a thud, careful to not contort her body in a way that could re-open the wound. She collapses onto the wool blankets. When you’re sure she’s settled you place your rifle back next to your bed and fall into your mattress, knowing you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.

lmk what you think! Likes, comments and reblogs always appreciated!

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK

Part 2 >>

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #tlou 2 ellie #tlou2 #cowboy!au #western! au #cowboy!Ellie #cleaning wounds trope hehe

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shytastemakerthing · 2 months

Note

hi!! How are you? I hope you have a great day! ^^

Ngl, i'm in love with the Albino!reader series

So, can you do a Albino!reader with a pomefiore dorm (like imagine Vil first time meeting them) orr a diasomnia dorm (some of them might think that they are a fae) orr maybe Rollo (he might think that Albino!reader is an angel at first)? (You can pick one you like or all, it's fine!)

Thank you! And keep it up with your writting talent! ( ＾∀＾)

A/N: We are now on dorm number 4 with our albino!reader series! I am so glad that you guys are rather liking this one, I am enjoying it as well! As I have already done Pomefiore dor, I will be doing Diasomnia + Rollo for this request!

Tw: None

Request: Diasomnia family + Rollo with albino!reader

Headers and dividers made by @blueberry-pride and @cafekitsune

(I apologize for the constant tags, I simply wish to give credit for the lovely headers and dividers :) )

Instantly captivated by you the first time he had laid upon your form

It was late in the night, the moon high in the sky when he had first seen you out walking along an older pathway that was slightly hidden underneath overgrown vegetation

Underneath the light of the silver moon, the flickering of fireflies, he found himself utterly speechless and completely drawn to you

At first, he thought you to be a diurnal fae, until he gazed upon your very human ears

Albinism you say?

It was the first he had heard of such a condition

And the light of the sun and the heat that it emits can be very dangerous for you? Damage your skin and your eyes?

Well, that just won't do

Hence why you are often seen more around Diasomnia (after managing to talk him out of keeping the sun away as we know how this fae's mood can affect the weather)

It is usually quite dark there and there is a certain chill in the air that should keep you nice and safe

Simply say the word and you will have a full, new wardrobe that will cater to keeping your skin safe from the sun

He grows to enjoy each visit you grace him with, looking forward to each one

Yes, his grandmother knows of you

And yes, she wishes to see you when her beloved grandson invites you to Briar Valley during the next school break

This fae is essentially 700 years old, you are not the first person he has seen with albinism

But you are certainly the first he has seen where he nearly mistook you for a Diurnal fae. Everything about you just radiated the presence of one

But when you were now facing him, able to see your human eyes and ears, he was pleasantly surprised

Will absolutely charm you to the moon and back without hesitation, he has no shame

Will be the epitome of a gentleman, and you will have the pleasantries of being courted the old fashioned way in fae culture

At his age, there is no time to dally around, and Lilia finds himself fully captivated by you

Do you like children?

Also, keep him away from the kitchen and do not eat anything he has made if you value your life

He often invites you for tea in the Diasomnia lounge room, something the both of you rather enjoy

Oftentimes, when you fall asleep when with one another, he allows a gentle smile to come to his face, brushing your hair back before holding you close

Perhaps you would like to travel with him? With his life soon drawing to a close, there is no one else he would rather spend it with (aside from silver, that is)

He has heard the tales of Diurnal fae from essentially everyone in his family, from Lilia, others in Briar Valley, and even in books that he has read

And from afar, everything about your appearance screamed that you were, in fact, a Diurnal fae

One whose beauty that could be described as ethereal

......what do you mean you're human?

You, a full blooded human, look more akin to a fae, than him, someone who is half-fae

No, he is not mad.....

Maybe a bit self conscious about it, but not angry

.....are you sure that you have no fae lineage in your blood? It was always a possibility

Albinism?

Ah, he had briefly heard of such a condition, but had never seen it before with his own eyes

Instantly thought that Diasomnia would be the best place for you after hearing about the damage that the sun and heat can do to you

Gathered advice from Lilia

Good or bad, you can decide

But you two are often either seen in Diasomnia together in the lounge with small snacks discussing books or in the library further away from the windows studying

Has offered his jacket to you on more than one occasion to cover your skin from the sun

You complimented his skill as a knight (in training), and how much for a gentleman he was, you instantly saw him fighting that grin on his face as he straightened himself up quite a bit

Lilia commented that he looked like the cat that just got the cream once he was back at the dorm

Was this how his mother felt when she fell in love with his father?

He will have to inquire more information for the future

Always commented on how Briar Valley would be the perfect place to be. The weather was cooler, and the sun wasn't as bright. Even then, the forests helped to block sunlight in most places

Not to mention, he thought you would look absolutely stunning in Briar Valley clothing

Already planning on getting pictures, he wants to carry one around with him like the knights of old did with their loved ones when they were sent out

Perhaps you would like to come with him back home during winter break?

His mother is absolutely dying to meet the human who has softened her son's heart

The entire family is (even good old grandpa Baul)

Sevens, help anyone who manages to see both of you together. Between his calm aura and gentle beauty, and your ethereal glow, there's no doubt that you two are seen as the most captivating on campus (even Vil believes that after seeing both of you together)

It all started when he was returning from club activities, on the verge of falling asleep once more before something rather bright caught his eye

For once, it woke this man up as he made his way over to see who happened to be behind such an image

Only to see you, moving to sit in a meadow underneath a tree, pulling out a book, seeming to relax

Thought you to be a fae first as well, Diurnal, in fact based on your appearance

But after correcting him, he let a slight smile come to his face

Seeing the drowsy look return to his eyes, you offered a spot for him to lay, he did, you read, and the rest was history

Silver always helped to keep you protected from the sun, covering your shoulders with his jacket, informing you of the weather for the day, and anything in between

His father raised him to be a gentleman

You are often seen accompanying him to various places, even helping him after he had just fallen asleep

Lilia is begging you to marry his son already, you are literally perfect

Perhaps you would like to join Silver on a trip back home? He is certain you would quite like the quaint little cottage he calls home

An angel, that is the first thing that came to his mind the moment that he first laid eyes upon you

It was weeks after what happened during the Glorious Masquerade when he found himself now at NRC

He was still trying to find his way around this rather large school (he really underestimated the size of this college, especially when taking into account the pocket dimensions that held the dorms), when he first saw you walking through the courtyard with a parasol over your head and books in your other hand

Everything about you seemed to just be glowing

....oh

You're looking in his direction

You're looking at him

That smile would be the end of him, he could see it all happening now. and now you are walking towards him

Is he lost?

What did he do to be blessed with your presence?

Thus, he found himself being led by you to class and after, a full tour to help him remember where everything was

It was where he asked if you truly were an angel

Tried not to be disappointed when you denied, discovering that you had merely been born with albinism

Well, it looks like there was more to you than what he had first thought

Perhaps you would like to join him one day in the City of Flowers? He is certain that you would enjoy yourself, he would make sure of that, himself.

Thank you for your request! Is it easy to tell who was my favorite? Have a wonderful day/night!

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #romantic #twst imagines #twst malleus x reader #twst Lilia x reader #twst sebek x reader #twst silver x reader #twst Rollo x reader #twst malleus draconia #twst lilia vanrouge #twst sebek zigvolt #twst silver #twst rollo flamme #shy answers #shy writes

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s-soup111 · 9 months

Text

Make sure it kills me

Paring: Jinshi x (f) Reader

Genre: angst

Tags: , one-sided love, arranged marriage, hanahaki au

“You’re breaking me.” You concluded in your letter. It’s not as if you were going to send it anyway, you placed the carefully folded letter into your locked drawer along with all your other heartfelt paragraphs. What was the point? He didn’t return your feelings anymore. Yes, maybe you did once share small intimate glances, hold pinkies as you walked down the flower garden together. Maybe you did share secret kisses under the softening gaze of the moon-lit pond. Where did that go?

“Was it ever real?” You ask yourself.

Maybe it was. But that was all in the past, Jinshi no longer belongs to you, he belongs to that servant named Maomao. You’ve seen the way he looks at her, with gleaming eyes and intrigued grins. You’ve seen how he gave her his hair pin, you’v seen it all. Jealousy swirling in the pit of your stomach, how pitiful.

Why does he love her? She’s just a servant, strange green hair and a freckled face, she is nothing compared to a beauty like you- you held a graceful complexion, you had an air of confidence not only beautiful but superiority. Just as the daughter of the emperor should. You were perfect, so why doesn’t he look your way anymore? Maybe it was because of how perfect you were. Maomao was anything but perfect, an unpredictable character and lower class. So imperfect but kind.

You choke on something, suddenly you find it difficult to breathe. You struggle in your room but no one comes to help you, all your ladies in waiting are outside by your order. How ironic. You hyperventilate in your own room, coughing, tears swelling in your eyes- you reach out trying to grasp onto something. You fall and your sight fades.

Jinshi is not aware of your falling ill until Maomao is summoned into your quarters. Jinshi knows you will be fine, he is not so concerned for your health as he knows Maomao will fix you some way or another, so he does not find the need to visit you. Not until Maomao ushers him urgently with a sense of panic in her eyes does he start to notice something is wrong.

“The madam is severely ill.”

Jinshi rushes to your quarters as soon as he hears this, you never get ill, so why now? As the emperor’s daughter you have been treated with the utmost care, therefore almost never falling ill. He drags Maomao with him, telling her to fix you immediately, not a request, an order. She’s never seen him this way, not with sweat falling from his face in panic, eyes scanning you with concern, hands shaking. Not the usual flirty, perverted man she’s used to.

You open your eyes, searching around your room for any signs of human presence, you see Maomao sitting next to you, head hung low with dark circles sitting under her shut eyes. She must have taken a long time to treat you, you are grateful. You try to raise yourself but it strains your body, your arms supporting your body are weak and unstable, you let out a dry cough- leaving behind a beautiful pink petal on your bed; yet you do not notice and leave your room quietly.

The moon is bright; yet it is a cold and star-less night, you stare at it for some time before you feel the icy breeze get to you. Your body feels weak and worn. In another timeline, Jinshi would wrap his robes around you, shielding you away from the wrath of the night. You walk away pathetically, not the blood trickling from your mouth.

Jinshi watches you from a distance, he is paralyzed by your beauty, ethereal in the moonlight fanning your pale skin, he watches you gaze into nothing in particular, he sees puffs of smoke leave your mouth every time you exhale. You must be cold, he is too unsure if he should go towards you. He sees you turning to move away, his eyes catches something but isn’t sure what it is. Suddenly, he realizes Maomao isn’t next to you and worries. But this time, he worries for you than her.

You are heard by the maids weeping and sobbing in your sleep, often beseeching Jinshi to come home, the life left your body, only leaving some empty shell, your body pained and ached, vomiting blood and pretty pink petals, your health declined to the point you could not manage your household affairs and Jinshi was forced to take over. Jinshi visited your room as much as he allowed himself to; he watched your weak frame struggle to breathe as more tears rolled down your face.

For some reason his heart ached to see you like this, he thought he’d lost feelings years ago. Maybe his heart just didn’t want to let you go.

“Beloved..?” You reach out one night. Jinshi is nose-deep into his work as he hears your voice. He turns around abruptly, heart hammering in his chest. You looked enthralling even deeply ill. Though, you had tears staining your face, “Jinshi, please.” You cried. You coughed, spitting out flowers that tasted bitter on your tongue.

“You’re breaking me, please stop this my love,”

“You know I can’t do that,”

“Then kiss me. Kiss me like you love me, tell me you love me even if you have to lie.”

“I love you.”

You look at him, the ache in your heart has not gone.

“You’re merciless.”

#the apothecary diaries #jinshi #jinshi x reader #angst #female reader #anime #jinshi x maomao

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heartysworld · 8 months

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Your Beauty Never Scared Me || Lucien x Reader

Your relationship with your future mother-in-law was not bad, but you knew she likes to keep her distance most of the time. You turned the corner of the big hallway, finding yourself in front of Lucien's chambers. His mother was outside, pacing in front of the doors. Tears were streaming down her face.

"My Lady, what is happening?" You asked worriedly.

"Oh Gods, they have ruined my boy, my beautiful boy." She sobbed sitting down on a chair, hands covering her face.

"Who and what have they done? Is Lucien okay?" You asked once again, kneeling before her shaking form.

"His brothers, they attacked Lucien on his way back from the training field. I am yet to seen him, all I was told is that the healer has been called and nobody is allowed in. I heard his screams, my boy was tearing the skies, his voice was full of so much pain." She said.

Your heart clenched at the thought of Lucien being attacked and injured. The situation in court wasn't the best but you never expected for it to go this bad. You could only hope that Lucien would be okay, that's all you cared about.

You and the youngest son of Autumn are about to be wed in less than a moon. Your father, one of Lord Beron's most trusted advisors, had long ago noticed your fondness of the red-haired Prince, and after a long discussion with the High Lord and his Council it was decided, you two were to be married. Lucien was happy, you were as well. After a long agonizing few hours of waiting in front of the door, the Lady of Autumn was finally allowed in. You couldn't hear much from the inside but one particular loud scream scared your soul away, making your heart beat even faster than it did before. What had they done to him?

Time passed before the wooden doors creaked open again. Slowly, her ladyship slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her back.

"Is he in a lot of pain? Will he be okay?" You asked with a worried expression.

"Listen, Y/N... what you're about to see... Nobody would blame you if you decide to annul the marriage proposal." She said making your heart stop, your face went completely pale.

"What... what are you talking about? I would never! I love Lucien I would never do such thing!" You exclaimed. You felt offended that anyone would ever think this way of you. Have your signs of affection not been enough.

"Listen, dear..." She started again but you couldn't listen to her any longer, you just wanted to see your fiancé.

Walking past her, you headed for the doors, pushing them open. You were met with complete darkness. The curtains were drawn, the door to the balcony was also closed. It felt more like a cave than a room.

"Who's there? Y/N?" A voice rasped from the darkness. You immediately recognized it as Lucien's.

You took a few steps closer to one of the windows, reaching for the blinds to pull them apart.

"No! Don't you dare!" Lucien hissed.

"Lucien, love, what happened?" You asked with concern, heading to his bed as you sat down on its edge. In the darkness, your hand managed to find his, giving it a light squeeze.

"I think you should leave, Y/N. I can't bear seeing the look on your face when you catch sight of what I've become." Lucien said, his voice raspy from all the screams he had let out not long ago.

"No... Lucien, I am not leaving, not now, not ever. Whatever happened, I am ready to endure it by your side. I am to be your wife, I will never leave you. Please, my love, let me see." You whispered. His desperation made you feel even worse, to think you'd leave him just like this.

You felt him move around in the bed. The only light in the room was coming from the opened door. Lucien slowly raised up his upper body, the lonely stream of light falling right on his face. What you saw made your eyes water like a waterfall, your hands went over your mouth while tears started falling down your cheeks.

His left eye was gone, the entire half of his face being covered in bandages that went all the way up into his hair down to his chin.

"I don't expect you to still want to give yourself to me." Lucien said, his hand never letting go of yours regardless of his words.

"Lucien, no, look at me," you said, when his head remained lowered you repeated your words, "look at me, Lucien!" You raised your voice.

Slowly his gaze met yours, his healthy eye was teary, ready to release its tears.

"I've loved you for so long, my love. Nothing could ever make me detest you, your looks are the least of my worries. You're the one I want to call my husband, the one whose children I want to carry and whose life I want to share. We will get through this together. I need you to speak to me, about everything, whatever you're feeling I want to know about it. That's the only way we could be able to handle every challenge fate throws at us." You said. Your free hand slowly laid on his cheek, feeling the coldness of his skin.

The two of you spent hours in his chambers, at one point he asked you to lay in bed with him. You nestled safely in his embrace, careful not to touch his face. The entire day was spent in bed, talking, you were even able to make him laugh twice, which made your heart flutter. A few kisses were exchanged as well, at the time night had fallen, Lucien was already asleep against your chest while you combed your hands through his beautiful white hair. He looked so peaceful when sleeping.

A quiet knock was heard, followed by the doors opening. The healer from earlier stood at the entrance of the room, a bag in his hand.

"It is time for me to change the Prince's bandages, my lady." The old man whispered.

You nodded slowly. With your hand on Lucien's back, you softly shook him awake, a quiet groan escaping from his mouth. He never liked being woken up.

"My love, it's time to clean your wounds. The healer is here, you must get up." You whispered against his forehead.

His body tensed when your words sank in. There was no way he could make you leave, you were going to see how damaged he was.

"It's okay, hey, I love you. I love you a lot." You said, cupping his cheek softly.

He nodded, slowly rising from the bed in a sitting position.

You followed the healer's every move, trying to memorize the process as much as possible so that whenever it was needed you could take care of your future husband as well.

It was nothing complicated, after a few tries you were confident in your skills and knowledge.

Lucien didn't complain, the opposite, he was actually glad that it was you who took over in taking care of him. He was always more comfortable in your presence and nothing could change that.

Years passed and your love for Lucien never disappeared, it became even stronger with each day. Drastic changes occured all around Prythian. Lucien was now the emissary of the Night Court, away from the wrath that used to rule his life. Beron was long dead, defeated by Eris after he tried to murder his mate as revenge.

Lucien still had his insecurities,but you spent every moment possible reminding him how much you loved him until every single ounce of doubt was gone from his mind.

You had recently given birth to your first child,a little girl who was the most precious angel ever. When Lucien held her for the first time you recognized the look on his face from that horrifying moment years ago. He was worried about his own daughter being repulsed by his appearance.

However, your little girl was all smiles and giggles. Whenever she was in her dad's arms she always wanted to look at his face, she was adorable and had him wrapped around her finger. You knew that your family would be fine,as long as there was love present.

If you're interested in more check HERE !

#lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien x y/n #lucien fluff #lucien angst #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar fluff #acotar angst #a court of thorns and roses #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra x you #lucien vanserra x y/n

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stars-for-circe · 8 months

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Dead Men Tell No Tales

Tags / cw: Pirate Age (1650 - 1730s), fluff, Pirate!Abby, Mermaid!reader, slight somno (reader kisses an unconscious Abby), mentions of drowning, piracy, strangers to lovers

Taglist: @ourautumn86 @peanutbutterandjayjay @happysparklingshadows @irelandzo @iamaboringrattat @genderfluidlesbain999 @slut4mascss @rxreaqia @kylorey25 @massivepeacefemme @elliewilliamsfavborderhopper @elliewilliamsisactuallymygf @ratdungeon @elxarw @mariasabanahabanabana @vvynia @r3starttt

Walking the plank was something Abby knew well, having seen it every few moons. After all, piracy always came with disloyalty - the promises of gold and rum being too tempting not to betray your crew for. But walking the plank herself? That, she was not prepared for.

Hands tied behind her back and a gag in her mouth left only a deathly glare for Abby to give to the men behind her. The men, her crew, behind her. And at least they had the fucking decency to look shameful.

“Captain, why the long face?”

…except for one.

She should have never let that fucker on her ship. Right from the beginning, he was suspicious. It was weird enough that he had managed to sneak onto her ship at the last port, and even weirder that he seemingly had no motive. Abby should have known that his promises of a map in return for safety were empty. That his objective was her fucking ship, not the treasure her crew had sought after. Another boot pushing into Abby’s back made her groan out a muffled swear, the end of the plank now dangerously close.

“Any last words? Advice maybe, for your loyal crew.” A smug snicker broke the silence afterwards. And then an exaggerated sound of realisation as he gestured with his sword to her gagged mouth.

“You must pardon my ignorance captain, I must have forgotten!”

Suddenly, a harsh kick to the base of her spine left Abby screaming in pain as she fell over the edge of the plank. The wind howling in her ears as she scrunched her eyes shut and braced for the ice cold impact of the storming ocean. But the last thing Abby heard was instead his taunting voice that followed her into the depths of the sea.

“Dead men tell no tales.”

A haunting cackle left his mouth as Abby plunged into the vicious swell. The current overpowered her easily, each wave more fierce that the last, throwing her around like a mangled toy. She could no longer tell which was up or down, but the feeling of being pulled down lower and lower gave Abby a sinking feeling that it wasn’t her ship she was heading towards.

Thrashing hard against her binds, she regained her bearings and tried desperately to kick up to the surface, the water surrounding her no longer disturbed by the storm, but instead of Abby’s panicked movements. But it was futile, Abby realised, as she saw that what was once a dark ocean around her was now her own life flashing past. How cliche, she thought.

And it had been a long time since Abby had last dreamt like this - as if death had allowed her one final moment of reminiscing before she was met with its cold embrace. She saw herself as a young girl begging her father to let her sail, dreaming of conquering the seven seas, fighting pirates, finding the most enchanting merpeople along the coasts. Like waves rolling over each other, the played over again and again, each time becoming more blurry than the last.

And when it finally ceased, Abby spent her last breath on a silent vow on revenge. As the ocean pulled her down from the violent waves into its abyssal depths, she swore it. No matter how many lifetimes it took, she would come back and fucking kill him.

Human lips were so enchanting. Unlike yours, Abby’s were pinker, and chapped - most likely due to the fact she didn’t live underwater like you. Heavens, it wasn’t just her lips. Her entire self had you absolutely entrapped with her beauty. Her structured face (that, for some reason, still displayed a frown and furrowed brows, even in her unconscious state), her long hair that was splayed around her head, and her body.

God, her body. You couldn’t help your wandering eyes after you had pulled her ashore from trailing down lower and lower. Her drenched shirt, slightly transparent and clinging to herself, proved as the perfect window for you to see her well built arms and…..other areas, too.

Fuck, you shouldn’t be getting distracted at a time like this. Your family would already be beside themselves with you interacting with a human, fancying one would probably get you exiled. But you really couldn’t help it.

When you had saved Abby last night, it was purely by chance. You were trying to swim down to the ocean floor to stay safe from the stormy surface, and you should have done so. But on your way down you had felt a large splash ripple through the water, and then you saw her. Illuminated by striker of lightning, she was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. And you tried to keep your distance at first. After all, her feet weren’t bound together so she could have swam up herself. But when you noticed her go limp, you couldn’t stop yourself from helping her.

And it wasn’t like you’d be caught, she was fucking unconscious. So you grabbed Abby as fast as you can and pulled her to the surface, and eventually, to the shoreline. You knew this island had people somewhere, so it would only be a matter of time before someone found her - she was safe here, and you could leave her, right? No, but what if she didn’t wake up? What if no one found her in time? What if they tried to hurt her?? Maybe it was best if you stayed until she woke up.

And now here you were, on the beach of a strange island, making fucking heart eyes at a human of all things. A human with the prettiest face you’d ever seen, though. A human, who was still bound and gagged, you realised (no, you weren’t making another excuse to touch her, she really needed your help this time). Tentatively, you reached out and carefully rolled her over. Which was fucking hard considering you could only use your core strength, but you managed to untie her hands and lay her back on her back.

Slowly, you trailed your eyes back up from Abby’s arms to her face, capturing and memorising each and every part of her as your hands followed in suit. And gently, you cradled her head up to undo the binds around her mouth, before placing her back down as they fell apart beneath her.

To anyone else, the angry red marks rubbed raw against her cheeks, agitated and sore from the ropes, would be a disgusting sight. Yet you found her, still, an absolutely breathtakingly beautiful sight. The way it traced her cheekbones, stopping at the edges of her mouth, where pink lips met the marks and met at a soft Cupid’s bow. God, were you being punished for something?

The one person, you couldn’t have, a human, just had to have the most kissable lips out of everyone you had ever met, and it was forbidden. Not only that, she wasn’t even fucking awake, either!

…she wasn’t awake.

She would never know.

No one would, you thought as you stared curiously down at Abby. One moment of self indulgence to end the hours of suffering and pining, that’s all it would be. No one would know, not Abby, and least of all your family. And if anything, it could be considered a ‘thankyou’ for not letting Abby drown in the first place.

You glanced up to the sky, almost daring your ancestors to stop you, before looking back down at Abby. Tentatively, you traced the back of your hand against the side of her face before cupping it into your palm. And with the other, you gently moved the hair splayed around her forehead as you took a long glance to her face. Fuck, you were in over your head. After a deep breath in, you felt yourself moving closer as you closed your eyes, and finally, you sighed as your lips met with hers.

They were cooler to the touch than expected, you thought. But that was probably because the poor girl had just taken an involuntary swim in the ocean. She tasted almost salty, you realised, as you deepened the kiss, how softly moving them against hers. With your eyes closed, all your senses zeroed in on kissing Abby, the roaring waves and screeching seagulls simply turning into static noise. All you focused on was kissing her properly before you would never see her again.

So maybe that was why you could almost feel her moving her lips against yours, returning your kisses with a soft fervour that was so delicate you could have imagined it. A soft hum escaped your mouth as you traced your tongue against her lips, lost in her taste, her touch, her. And it was only when you felt a hand softly tracing up your spine that you realised you weren’t imagining it, that Abby was really kissing you back.

Almost as fast as it had started, you bolted up away from her mouth, a panicked gasp leaving your own. Your eyes darted around her face for signs that she was fully awake, and when you noticed her relaxed state, you let out a sigh of relief. While she may have been conscious enough to kiss you back, Abby was still too out of it to notice where the fuck she was (and why a mermaid was making out with her).

Thankfully, you had time. A very short amount, you realised, as you noticed Abby coming to much faster than before, but time to hide nonetheless. Reluctantly, you took your hands away from her face and moved her hand off your back, before glancing behind you to look for an escape route. And luckily, there was one. As you dragged yourself to the rock pools, you shot Abby one last, longing glance before turning back around and diving into the shallow water from a rock platform. Praying that you were fast enough, you whispered a goodbye to Abby before swimming away to your family, who were surely worried about your whereabouts by now.

And you were. Fast enough, that is. In fact, you were so swift with your departure that you had failed to stay around long enough and see Abby open her bleary eyes and take in her surroundings. But maybe that was a good thing considering how you would have gotten lost in their grey-blue beauty. And maybe you were lucky that Abby didn’t see you go, because the best explanation she could come up with as to how the fuck she didn’t die was simply that the tide had brought her to shore, somehow.

But, for some reason, Abby could not shake the feeling that she had been helped, and she could not shake the dream she had before waking up of someone before her, untying her ropes and caressing her face. She could not shake the feeling of scales morphing into soft skin against her hand as the moving it up higher and higher. And for some fucking reason, Abby could not, for the life of her, shake the feeling against her lips. Like they were kiss-bitten and tingling, and warmer than they should have been considering how cold the rest of her was.

Maybe, if Abby had focused on her surroundings more than her recollection, she would have noticed the obvious trail in the sand leading to the rock pools on her right. And noticed that strangely large tail peeking through the now settling swell in the distance - much to large to be a fish, but too colourful to be a dolphin’s, either. But no, all Abby could really focus on was how for some reason, that stupidly warm, soft feeling on her lips felt nice. Pleasurable, even. But also, how the fuck she was getting off this island.

#tlou2 #abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #the last of us 2 #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson tlou2 #wlw #sapphic #bisexual #lesbian

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

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Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious IV

You were never setting foot in the library again.

Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.

Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?

You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.

Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.

The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.

I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.

By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.

But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.

On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.

She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.

It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?

Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.

No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.

I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.

She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?

Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.

‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’

Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.

But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.

Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.

I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.

I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.

The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.

Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.

Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.

But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.

Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.

And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?

Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…

But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.

I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.

Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.

I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.

Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.

By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?

You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.

Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?

Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?

Were you really wishing that he had?

You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.

And if you went to him just after reading what you did…

Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.

The next several days of entries were almost identical.

Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.

Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.

Before joining you.

When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.

You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).

But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.

He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.

Aemond knew you. Even then.

And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.

The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.

But really?

As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.

You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.

You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.

And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.

In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.

More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.

So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.

The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year

Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!

But… damn him. It is quite educational.

Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.

A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?

But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.

It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.

And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.

I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…

There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.

…the breasts, and lower.

I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.

There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.

When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.

I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.

She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.

Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.

When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.

You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.

And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.

You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…

I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.

It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.

I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.

But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.

Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.

Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…

She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.

I’ll be whatever she wants.

Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.

But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.

I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.

When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.

Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.

I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.

Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.

If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?

I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.

At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.

You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.

With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.

The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.

Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?

Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.

After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.

In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.

It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.

So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.

The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.

Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.

The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.

Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.

When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!

I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.

But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.

Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.

You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.

Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.

When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.

Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.

But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?

I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.

Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.

As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?

I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.

But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!

I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.

For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.

The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.

But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.

There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.

I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.

You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.

‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’

She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.

While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.

If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.

She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.

What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.

Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.

Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.

I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.

But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.

There was another small patch of angry scribbles.

I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.

She did not like the kissing.

When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.

So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.

And she asked, ‘Why?’

I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.

I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.

Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.

It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.

But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.

She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.

I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.

When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.

You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.

‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’

There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.

She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.

It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.

I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.

I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.

Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!

Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.

And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.

But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.

I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.

I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.

In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.

To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.

Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.

Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.

I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.

I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.

Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.

But I didn’t get to do any of that.

She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.

The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.

So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.

And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’

But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.

I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.

It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.

I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.

Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.

I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.

Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.

As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.

He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.

What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’

Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’

You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.

So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.

It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.

You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.

Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.

Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.

So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.

The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year

I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.

I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.

I do not think this is going to work.

Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.

Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.

She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!

‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’

She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.

At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.

My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.

It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.

She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.

After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.

Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.

Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.

You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.

In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.

It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.

An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.

When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.

Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.

On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.

I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.

I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.

They are almost as beautiful as her.

The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.

I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.

You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.

So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’

Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.

The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year

I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.

All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.

You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.

Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.

Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.

Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.

If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.

After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.

So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.

She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.

I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.

Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!

And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.

‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.

It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.

I apologised again for upsetting her and left.

At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.

You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.

‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’

I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.

And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.

She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.

After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!

It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.

She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.

‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’

Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.

You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.

It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.

What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?

No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?

Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.

‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’

You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’

The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year

I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.

We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.

Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.

Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.

But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.

It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.

I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.

I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.

First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.

A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.

I know what to do. I just pray she understands.

“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.

You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.

Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.

Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.

No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.

The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.

The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.

It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.

You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.

But then you heard footsteps approaching.

Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.

There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.

Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.

He was not wearing his eyepatch.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”

You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”

When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.

But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.

With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”

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stormgrl19 · 4 months

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𝑁𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑 | 𝑃𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑃𝑎𝑛

Peter Pan x Fem!reader

Credits: All credits go to the authors / the producers / etc. of the show / the book / the movie. I own my OCs and their plot and any differences from the original plot.

Request: Idk if your requests are closed but if theyre not could you write for peter? Somthing like the reader came to the island to help find henry but shes fascinated with the island and peters fascinated with her? Ty if you can !! < 3 ( @akumazwrld )

Summary: You go to neverland with Emma and the others to help bring Henry back and on one of your secret midnight strolls you meet a really… fascinating boy.

A/n: I am so sorry it took so long! I hope you like it!

Warnings: use of y/n, not proofread /edited/ …

Wc: 799

Part two

You don’t know how many days you had been on this island, just that it couldn’t be a week since you arrived with Emma, Hook and the others to help Henry. Back in Storybrooke you lived alone in an apartment over a flower shop, where you worked. You weren’t a main character of any fairy tale, just a side character with no known family, but before you all got your memories back, you sometimes babysat Henry, which is why you were now here, in neverland.

Walking under the stars, in a jungle with beautiful plants everywhere, you let your mind wander and carefully craft on your silly dream of living here. Nature brought you the feeling of peace, it always had and even so, neverland was dangerous, you somehow knew deep down, that as long you were surrounded by nature, nothing bad would happen to you. It was foolish to rely on your feeling, the others would definitely call you delusional, but neverland was to wonderful to just walk through it, without taking time to really take everything in.

That’s why you had been secretly going on little adventures to explore the mystical island, while everyone else was sleeping. So far you had seen a lot of trees, flowers and last night you saw for the second time in your life real mermaids! If you hadn’t had to be silent you would’ve squealed like a child on Christmas. The more you saw of the island the less you wanted to go back to your boring and lonely life in Storybrooke. Why would you, when you could life here? Explore the island until you knew it like the back of your hand, nature always by your side and (and know you were really far gone from any reality) befriend the mermaids, swimming together and play around.

Walking slowly, you stopped right before you walked into a bush with dark green leaves. It was dark, but the moon shone through the trees and you could see the little thorns. The stems looked like they were black and without any logical reason you reached your hand out.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Hastily you withdraw you hand and turned around. Before you, a few meters away was a boy, looking at you with an arrogant smirk and his hands crossed before his chest, while leaning on a tree.

“Why?” You asked, cursing silently for not bringing something to defend yourself.

“Because that is dreamshade. It is poisonous,“ he answered, still looking, no scanning you with his eyes.

“Oh.” You looked around, searching for a way to escape.

“Well, I think I have to go, so… It was nice meeting you?” The last sentence sounded like a question, but you really had to get away from him. He probably was one, of the people that held Henry captive.

He laughed and pushed himself off the tree, walking to you. Now you could get a better look on his face, and God was he handsome, but you really shouldn’t talk to him, should you?

“That was certainly a short meeting. I don’t even know your name.”

“Yeah, well-“ You stocked. Talking to him couldn’t be that bad and maybe he could help you with Henry? “Only if you tell me yours!”

His brow raised and he answered: “Ah, a little trade? My name for yours?”

“Seems fair, don’t you think?”

He hummed, “You can begin.”

“I can- fine. Hi, I am Y/n!”

“Y/n? That is a pretty name.”

“Yes, now tell me yours!”

“So impatient, are you? Don’t worry, I always stick to my word.” “So?”

He chuckled and walked closer to you, only three steps away from you.

“Hi, I’m Peter.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, it couldn’t be…

“Peter as in Peter Pan?” you asked hesitantly.

His eyes darkened and his smile changed from arrogant to something more… dangerous.

“Why, yes!”

“I really have to go now.” Panic was a feeling you knew all too well in this moment.

“Not so fast!” He grabbed your wrist and spun you around.

“I know why you and your friends are here - without my permission by the way - but-“ he leaned in, now only centimetres apart from your face “You won’t succeed. You hear me? I always win.”

He stepped back: “You should go now before your friends wake up!”

He sent you one of his smirks and seconds later he was gone.

You stared at the spot, were he stood only seconds ago. Scrunching up your face, you think about how you thought of him as handsome, he really is, with his hair, and his green eyes and-

You had to focus! You crushing on the enemy was not helping or useful.

At least you now knew: neverland was really fascinating.

#peter pan x reader #peter pan #x reader #ouat #once upon a time imagine #once upon a time #oneshot

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abbeym28 · 9 months

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Clarisse La Rue - Between the Breaths

Clarisse x gn! reader

An- Over 3.4k on this one!!! It didn't really take me that long to write it either! Thank you for all of the notes on I'm Your Man, it means a lot to me! Also, if anyone has request for any Clarisse or Luke fanfics, I would be happy to hear them even though I have no clue on how to do requests lol

Warnings- Training, weapons, somewhat gruesome part but really at all, Clarisse being friends with most of the Aphrodite cabin, reader can be from any cabin!! Pls let me know if I missed something!!

Clarisse La Rue had been at Camp Half blood for awhile, and it's safe to say that she has seen a lot of things. Good things, pretty things, but also gruesome things, things that would break a normal person if they weren't strong.

But she was strong.

Just not as much when it comes to you.

You, who the moon and sun seemed to shine on in a whole different light then it did on the rest of camp. You, whose kindness had reached almost every demigod, each of which likes you in their own way for their own reason. You, who was the most beautiful person Clarisse has ever seen.

Except she couldn't ever get too close to you, or have a conversation with you that was long, for she was Clarisse La Rue, child of Ares, the favorite daughter of a man who didn’t like his kids. And you, you were just too good for her. But she would never let a crush like this weigh on her the way it had started to, so she found a good way to regulate it all.

It was fighting, of course.

She let out a battle cry as she stabbed her spear into the ground, getting annoyed at how the other camper had rolled out of the way instead of letting her stab them. Sounds of other kids also fighting in the training ground filled her ears and she could distantly pick up the smell of food. She could thank the instincts she got from her god-parent as she went in for another attack (this time one that would actually hit), but a yell stopped her before she could go through with it.

“Hey! Anyone who wants a snack can take one!” Luke Castellan stood off to the side with his arms crossed, and standing right next to him holding a tray, was you.

Younger campers ran over to the two of you, while older ones opted to walk or to pick up dangerous weapons that had been discounted to the ground.

Clarisse scoffed and began to walk the other way, clenching her gifted spear tightly in her hand. She was stomping down the path through the forest that led to her special spot, her favorite tree, but the sound of running footsteps from behind her made her slow down and lighten her steps.

She twirled around, spear at the ready to go through a neck, but it was your neck in which the spear was now pointed at. And, surprise surprise, your neck was attached to the rest of your body.

The back of her neck and the tips of her ears began to feel hot, the type of burning she swore she could only feel whenever she entered the Hephaestus cabin to complain about her faulty armor. Or whenever she was close to you at the bonfire nights. She lowered her spear a bit and her stance faltered.

“Oh, um, I was just.... Is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s not.” She dropped the spear from the attack mode and turned around, continuing down the path. You followed after her, balancing the last few snacks still on the tray you were holding as you awkwardly stepped over tree trunks and discarded branches.

“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted anything to eat, considering that you're, like, the most hard working person in training and stuff. You definitely need substances so you can keep your muscles. ” Wow, you definitely knew exactly how and what to say to a kid of Ares.

“I don’t need a snack from you.” Gods, she hoped you picked up more on the sarcasm and not the accidental longing that had slipped out.

“Clarisse-” -she almost melted with how you had said her name- “-You were training really hard for a pretty long time. You should- you need to eat something!”

“I don’t need to do anything that you or anyone else tells me to!” She whirled around, getting very close to you as you halted, but taking a few steps back as a precaution. She glared at you, and you could feel her heavy breaths on your neck. You were looking down on her thanks to the hill, but despite that she was still pretty intimidating.

And just pretty.

Her eyes flickered to the snacks, and then they flickered back up to meet yours.

“If I take one, can you leave?” You brightened at her question.

“Of course!” She hesitantly took one, and before she turned around, you could have sworn that you heard her whisper a “Thank you, angel.” Your cheeks felt strangely warm as you made your way back to camp.

Throwing down another broken dagger, Clarisse groaned. The dummy she had destroyed was laying in shreds on the ground in front of her, and she was beginning to feel bad for whoever would have to stitch it back up. Someone began to clap behind her and her eye twitched.

“I think you got ‘em!” Selena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite, called from the sidelines.

“What do you want?” Clarisse called back, grabbing another dagger from the closest weapons rack near her. Silena watched as she twirled it around a few times.

“I’m here to ask you about something.” there was a strange sly smirk that situated on Silena’s face, that no matter what reputation the Aphrodite kid was, other campers knew that was the universal sign to run away.

Clarisse sighed and crossed her arms, the dagger she was holding pointing to the ground. She quirked her eyebrow as a way to say “go ahead”.

“We know you have a crush.” All of the sudden, at least six other kids that Clarisse could recognize as from the Aphrodite cabin jumped out of the bushes and came rushing towards Clarisse.

That was how she died.

Okay, so she definitely didn’t die, but dying was definitely better than being forced onto a pink chair inside the even pinker walls of the goddess of love's cabin.

Could’ve Clarisse fought of all of them and then report them to Chiron? Yes. But she just really didn't feel up to using that much energy on a bunch of perfect haired people. And besides, the amount of strength they had did impress her, so she was going to give it to them just this once.

A twelve year old girl was holding onto her right hand, delicately and perfectly brushing on a coat of black nail polish onto her freshly buffed nails.

Clarisse tried to pay attention to everything that the girl was doing, but the distracting amount of sets of eyes on her made it hard to do so. Even so, this was the first time someone had ever painted her nails for her.

“Got the ice cream!” Mitchell, one of the only sons of the love goddess came through the cabin doors, and he was met with cheers from every magenta cabin corner.

It took a minute or two until a bowl was eventually passed to Clarisse, but it was snatched away by the girl doing her nails. She wrinkled her nose at her, and the girl stuck out her tongue as response.

“So,” Silena started off, pausing to take a bite of the ice cream. “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know what your talking about.” Clarisse stayed stubborn, but she most definitely knew what she was talking about.

“Girl, we see how you get whenever they are around. Do you for real think that we are all stupid?” Another voice piped in from a random bunk bed to Clarisse’s left.

“Who?” She paid hyper attention to how the girl had finished working on her ring finger and was now moving onto her middle one. Shouts of your name rang out under the tall ceiling and Clarisse immediately tensed up.

“I do not have a crush on them.” She scoffed, but everyone else noticed the shakiness in her voice and they all exchanged knowing glances and smiles.

“You soooooo do! And that's why we’re helping you!” Voices of agreement chimed in with their two senses.

“We see how you look at them!”

“Yeah, and there's, like, a certain tension that comes around whenever you guys pass by each other! It’s soooo cute!”

“With our help, there's gonna be no way that they aren't in love with you!” Clarisse glared at the direction the voice came from.

“You don’t think they aren't already in love with me?” It didn’t seem to far of base, since Clarisse herself didn’t believe you were, or that you would ever be. But hearing a bunch of Aphrodite kids practically admit to it hit a bit different.

“I think they like you.” Silena said. Some other kids quickly agreed.

“They get pretty nervous when you're around, and they seek you out whenever there's gatherings. Even when they don’t go up to you, they get more relaxed whenever they see you.” A girl, no older than eight, spoke up from a lower bunk. She was laying her stomach and coloring on a piece of paper while kicking her feat. Everyone turned towards her, questions in the air. The girl looked up and shrugged. “We make paper stars together.” And then she went back to doodling.

Clarisse chuckled. She was not going to underestimate an Aphrodite kid again.

Then, there was a knock on the door. You poked your head through the cracked open door and smiled at everyone.

“Hey, I was just wondering if- Clarisse!” You got more fidgety once you had noticed Clarisse in the chair.

She jumped up and rushed past you and out of the cabin. Shouts of “hey!” rang out from behind her, the most prominent one coming from the girl who was working on her nails.

The next morning while getting breakfast, Clarisse could admit to herself that she was most definitely a fool.

With one hand of painted nails and the knowledge that she had run away from you, she would much rather stay in her fathers dedicated cabin and not anywhere where the kids from last night could find her.

She set her breakfast down at Ares’s assigned table, making sure that her manicure stayed unaffected. A flowery scent passed behind her, and a note was softly dropped onto the spot in front of her. Once she opened it, the note on the inside read : ”Try flexing at training today! ~ Silena + Aphrodite cabin” Followed by a winky and kissy face.

The last thing Clarisse wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of more than just you and one cabin. She was for sure going to look stupid showing off the muscles she had gained over the years, but maybe she was always a fool after she caught you looking at her while she stretched.

Training seemed to go by fast that day, and by the end of it she was sweating hard under the sun's glare. She placed her spear down on a bench and sat on the ground, trying to catch her breath from all of the extra moving she had done.

“Clarisse!” Oh boy, she knew that voice. You jogged over to her, a water bottle and towel in your hands. She got up off of the ground, making sure to purposely move her arms in just the right way. While she couldn't say that she was an expert on your expressions, she could say that you looked almost breathless.

“Oh-um, these are for you.” She smiled at you and took the two things from you and in an instant gulped down almost half of the water. You tilted your head to the side a bit.

“Only one of your hands is painted?” She raised her eyebrow before realizing that you meant her nail polish.

“Oh, yeah. I… I don’t really like sitting down for that long.” You nodded your head.

“That makes sense. That happens to me a lot.”

“Sooo, I’ll see you later?” Her simple question seemed to make you brighten up, and you watched as she picked up her spear and moved to go in the direction back to camp. She looked over her shoulder and winked at you, all while making sure to hold her weapon in a way to bring attention to her biceps and back.

The fire in the pit got higher as Clarisse poked around in it to make sure that it would keep burning. You were across from her on the bench on the other side, talking to two of her brothers and sisters, and whenever she would catch a glimpse of you she would take it as a sign to add to the fire.

The way her siblings were getting close to you, and the way that you would laugh and allow them to touch your arm. It left a burning feeling in her heart, and a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She focused on running her fingers over the thick stick that was used to help the fire.

“Clarisse?” Gods, your voice saying her name had to be her most favorite thing about her life, and for her to just hear like, you must really have a tight hold on her- her eyes flickered up, and there you were, standing in front of her, fidgeting with something small in your hands. “I got some black nail polish from Silena, and I was- I was wondering if I could paint your other hand?”

Clarisse was taken aback. But still, she sat up straighter and moved over a bit. “Oh, yeah, sure.”

You excitedly sat next to her and reached over for her hand. She put her hand into yours, and it felt as if the fire had gotten hotter, and as if fireworks were going off over your heads.

She watched as you focused and delicately worked on her left hand. Your work wasn't as precise as the other girl had been, but for some reason she enjoyed this more, with how your hands would shake and a deep frown would mark your lips in that way that if Clarisse knew that you liked her as she liked you, she would lean over and kiss you until you couldn't even frown.

Clarisse La Rue was most definitely in love with you.

Over the next weeks, you and Clarisse had gotten closer, but never close enough.

Whenever she wanted to hold your hand, she opted to fix your sleeve or to situate her hand on the small of your back.

Whenever you wanted to grab her and then kiss her till you couldn’t breath, you opted to fix her armor.

But despite all of the things the two wanted, you continued to dance around each other in a way that even Luke was getting tired of. But things changed after Clarisse had that dream.

The sky was clear, and it was a perfect night to have a picnic on the beach. Clarisse had provided the blanket and the food, and all you had to do was show up and give her the attention that she had been craving while she was too busy.

Things were getting more dangerous around camp, monsters getting closer to the barrier and less new kids showing up for that reason.

Clarisse could fight monsters all day everyday, but it was these nice nights that allowed her to get back the drive to do so. She was close to convincing you to just spend the night sleeping with her in her cabin, not caring how many rules that could potentially break. But if she wouldn’t get that, then she would have to love this. It wasn’t a hard task, considering that anything that had to do with you was something that she would love.

She felt you snuggle in closer to her side, and her heart soared as her arm tightened around your waist.

“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” you whispered, and she could feel your breath against her neck.

“Yeah, but the moon looks beautiful, right?” She whispered back and you grinned.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She gently pulled off one of your arms that was around her to take your hand in hers, leading you into a simple type of slow dance waltz. She had never danced before, nor had she ever been taught, but she would do anything for you.

The two of you laughed gently, especially once one of you accidentally stepped on the other's foot. When it was nearing the early hour of one, she led you to sit back onto the blanket.

“I'm gonna find you a pearl.” She promised against your lips as you held her closely to yours. You brought her into a kiss, the best and most slow and sensual kiss she would probably ever experience. Once you drew away from her, you laughed a bit.

“Okay, good luck my love.” And so she bounded towards the water, wading in right at the spot she knew clams and oysters were.

Right when she was bending to pick one up, a scream peirced through the darkness.

Your scream.

You were yelling her name, and Clarisse dropped everything to try to make it to you faster. A cyclops had you in its grip and you were struggling greatly.

She wanted to shout that she had no weapon, and that you would have to use the power in which you had gotten from your godly parent.

But she didn’t shout, and she didn't move.

She just watched as you got eaten.

Clarisse woke up with a start, sweat clinging to what felt like every cell of her skin. She flipped off the blankets of her bed and jumped up.

Nobody else had woken up because of her yet, thank the gods. She wanted to see you, to take you in her arms and know that you were alright, and to tell you that she was sorry that she was so weak. But that wasn’t something she should do, and she knew that.

She sighed and sat pack onto her bed, running her hand down her face. There was no way she could be around you right now.

It was later that night in which you were finally able to track Clarisse down as she was sitting outside of her cabin.

“Clarisse, you skipped all of our meals together. Are you okay?” You were about to go sit next to her but she got up and began walking towards the forest.

You followed after her, speed walking to keep up. “Clarisse, wait! If something happens, we can talk- woah!” You were going down the path that you had followed her down so long ago, and while you weren't paying attention to where you were walking, you tripped over an arm of a tree that had fallen to the ground.

Clarisse whirled around and caught you before you could touch the ground, and you held onto her arms tightly to ground yourself.

“Wow it was a good thing you were there, Clarisse, or else-” but once you met her eyes, they looked watery. “Oh, honey, what happened?”

No tears had fallen, no matter how hard it looked as she was holding it all in. You reached out your hand and gently caressed along her cheek.

She then pulled you into a hug worthy of a bear, and while you couldn't hear her crying, you could feel the damp that had started to soak through the fabric of your shirt. She held you tight;y as you began to softly draw shapes onto her back, mostly hearts.

“I, I had a dream, and you died, and I love you, and I’m sorry I'm this weak and-”

”Shhh, shh, it's okay, hun. You are not weak at all, and you are justified in whatever you're feeling, okay? And… I love you too” You whispered the last part as she sniffled and pulled away from you a bit.

You looked into each other's eyes for a bit, and you found yourself falling into and appreciating her gorgeous brown eyes. She pulled you closer, and then she pulled you into a kiss.

Your arms moved to be around her neck as her hands that grip your hips loosened the more you both melted into each other. As you pulled away, doubt seemed to fall across her face.

“Are you sure you-” But before she could say anything more, you grabbed the front of her shirt to bring her into a second kiss, one that was just as good as the first one, if not better.

“I love you. And your muscles.” A grin broke across Clarisse’s face.

“I love you too.”

And then going in for a third kiss, she made a mental note to give thanks to the Aphrodite cabin kids.

#percy jackson x reader #pjo #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #luke castellan #pjo x reader

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jksian · 9 months

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When the end comes (teaser) | JJK

You loved him with all your heart, held onto the person you knew will never be yours; but, the only regret you had was, you weren't able to tell him about those feelings.

Pairing: best friends brother JK x reader

Genre: super ANGSTY, fwb, smut, unrequited love, grief au.

W/c: 800 (for teaser)

Rating: 18+

Warning: major character death, one sided love from oc' s side, tattoo artist Jk, multiple sex scenes, age gape (more will be included in the story)

A/n: so..... I thought about writing some emotional heart breaking stuff so you should know it's gonna be SAD, like real sad! Full of angst! And if you're into this kinda thing, let me know if you want to be tagged.

Thanksgiving came and it was time for celebration. It was the time for eating delicious food, show our gratitude to the universe and spending time with our loved ones.

But, you weren’t particularly enjoying.

Every year, the Jeon’s and your family celebrated most of the occasions together, due to your father and Mr. Jeon being friends apart from your friendship with their daughter. But , this year, one more family joined in. You didn’t mind if it was just another random someone, but it wasn’t someone random.

The food was excellent as always. Mrs. Jeon had always been a great cook. All the food was mouth-watering but still, you found your self concentrating more on the scene unfolding in front of you rather than your food.

Jungkook invited his girlfriend to his house on Thanksgiving. That was the first time you saw the girl, your crush was in love with.

She was beautiful would be an understatement. Long, silky hair which was dyed brown, tall with a sweet personality. Anyone could have said on the first glance at them that, they were made for each other. There were many similarities between them too, like both were studying at the same college, Jungkook being art major and she was in the literature department, both belonged to the same city but never met each other before and the most importantly, both were at the same age.

Where you were four years younger than him, basically same age as his sister.

He probably think of you as his sister. No. Definitely he did.

You were burning with rage when you saw them holding hands. Even though everyone was around them, they didn’t seem to care much. It also seemed like Jungkook’s family liked her so much. They were happy that their son have met someone who made him happy. Both their families were happy about their relationship.

When it was evening, everyone was chattering and laughing inside the house but you were on the balcony, standing alone. You couldn’t help but cry. It was too much for you. You’d been crying for days now, but now that you’ve seen his girlfriend, there was no denying that it was real. Their relationship was real and you didn’t had a chance anymore.

“Moon is watching the moon?” You didn’t noticed when Jungkook came here. You abruptly wiped your tears away from your cheeks. He came closer to you and stand beside you, you took a step away, tried harder to hide your face from him.

When he noticed you hadn’t answered his question, he continued “I picked the right name for you, didn’t I?” he asked again, tried to humor you but you were nowhere near to laugh or even smile at his jokes.

You were standing there silently, not staring at the sky anymore. You lowered your gaze and your head fall downwards, shoulders slumped. He must had sensed that something was wrong with you, that’s why he asked “Hey, are you okay–,”

Before he can finish his sentence, an ugly sob slipped past your mouth, unable to held it back anymore. This time he didn’t held back, he placed his hand on your shoulder and made you look at him. You were insistent on not to face him so he settled with just holding you by your shoulder.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks without any resistance but his hands felt comforting even though he was the one hurting you at that time.

“What happened? Does someone hurt you?” you could sense the concern in his voice, his voice was so soft like he was afraid of hurting you. That made you cry even harder.

“____, please tell me what happened?” This time he was rubbing your arms ups and down, a gesture of comfort. He patiently stood there until calmed down and was ready to talk.

When he saw you finally wiping your tears away, he took a loose strand of your hair a tuck it behind your ear. That little affection felt like someone poke a needle into your heart.

“I like someone.”

You whisper to him , tried your hardest to not burst out crying again. You saw his expression turned into confusion, so you continued “But, He doesn’t like me.”

Again, your eyes were filling with tears. The image of them together encrusted into your mind will always hunt your down for sure.

Jungkook seemed to contemplate on how to respond to you. Then, he asked “How could you know that he doesn’t likes you?”

“Because, he has a girlfriend.”

Jungkook was taken aback by your statement. He looked at you with sympathy in his eyes, like he was sad about the situation you were in.

“I- are you sure? Also, do I know them by any chance?”

You avoided his gaze but nodded to his question. You were afraid that he might know about your secret crush on him. What if, he hates you after knowing that he was the person you likes?

No no, you couldn’t let that happen.

“how old is he?”

“Same age as yours. And, I’m sure that he has a girlfriend. I’ve seen them together the other day. You- you might know him but I don’t know…” You shifted on your feet, fidgeted under his curious gaze. He was staring at you, you felt that even though you were looking at the other direction.

“May I know his nam– ,”

“No.” Before he could ask the question, you dismissed immediately. There’s no way in hell you were gonna tell him that.

After seeing your defensive state, he didn’t push that question onto you anymore.

“Okay. You know, you’re a beautiful girl, right? You’ll find someone better than him in the future who will love you.” His smile was surreal, he was looking at you like you were the only one existed in the world, Eyes so gentle.

He was such a kind person, always helping who was in need, from offering jacket to a random person at a cold night to rescuing you from getting embarrassed in front of thousands of people on your first day of period. Even if you tried to assume that he was being caring only to you, that you’re special to him, you knew it wasn’t true.

You were just a random girl who was happened to be his sister’s friend.

He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to you. Your tears were as stubborn as you were, “If he is my age then, that means he is older than you –,” the realization hit him.

“–___, he didn’t do anything to you, right?” his worrisome expression made you think that why does that matter? His brows were pinched as he searched for your eyes.

“N-no, why are you asking that?”

“You should be careful from people, especially older guys. I’m not saying all the older guys are bad, but you haven’t see much of the world yet, so it might be difficult for you to identify who is good. You also haven’t matured enough–,”

“What do you mean by that!?” you got offended by the those words. Matureness doesn’t comes from age, also why was he acting like a seventy years old grandpa?

He got off guard from the sudden change in your tone. Shifted on his feet, he tried to make you understand his prospective, “I mean, many guys in our college targets younger girls like you to take advantage of, and… I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“W-why?” you wiped your nose with his handkerchief as you asked.

“Who wants something bad happens to the people they care about?” his smile was so genuine, the way he looked at you back then, made you feel things you’d never felt for anyone else.

That night you realized that, maybe, your silly little crush on him wasn’t just a crush. It was more than that. Something that might ruin you in the end but, still let that thing to engulfed you completely.

That night, you found comfort in the person who was the reason behind your heart break.

I do not allow reposting, copying, or translating my work— ©jksian

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts x reader #bts angst #jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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amphitriteswife · 29 days

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💛🧡Rejection🧡💛

Tagging: @praisethesuuun @mizz-sea-nymph @nicasdreamer @swallowtail-lotus

I know i made it male reader but feel free to see your oc sunny!😈

Apollo x male! Reader.

Apollo, god of the Sun, one of the 12 olympians and twin brother of the moon goddess herself, Artemis. That’s what he was most known for. Yet many forgot he was so much more than that. For example being the god of medicine, music, boys, knowledge and so much more. He was well loved among the ancient greeks. Often seen as the male beauty. In many of his famous tales Apollo falls in love with a man or woman, yet it always ends badly for them, causing Apollo to have them turned into flowers. Yet despite all the recognition, the glorious tales of him defeating the monster Python… he wasn’t always a saint.

Clutching your bow in one hand, you looked at the boar you just hunted. The boar was usually a symbol or offer to the lady Artemis herself. Once again, failing to have an offer for the god you worship. It was tiring and disappointing. Now it was a waste if you didn’t do anything with the now dead boar. Until the idea hit you that you might offer it to Artemis without entering her temple as only women or her priestesses are allowed to enter in. Walking in the direction of the temple you met one of the priestesses, giving her the boar and turning on your heel to go back to train with your bow, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being followed. It was an uneasy feeling in your gut that told you to keep watching who was behind you. Ignoring the feeling but not the suspicion, you clutched your bow and narrowed your eyes. The sudden sound of leaves rattling made you alert as you quickly raised your bow, pulling out an arrow and aiming at the source of the sound, your hand pulling on the string before firing the arrow without missing a beat.

Steading your breath, you listing closely, hearing the sound of your arrow hitting something followed by a rather loud and dramatic ‘OW’ which made you a bit stunned before you hesitantly walked into the direction of where you shot your arrow. Moving some of the leaves and bushes you could finally see…a naked man in the lake? The sight was honestly a little baffling since most of the warriors were already back at the training camp, and not to mention the light shade of the pink hair which was a unusual color for human hair, walking closer you could see the little red liquid in the pond water, slowly getting thinner the more it stayed in the water. Following the trail of blood you could recognize seeing your own arrow in the right shoulder of the man. The man seemed confused as to why he suddenly got hit by an arrow. Your arrow. Guilt filled your being as you walked closer to the man, wanting to help him stop the bleeding yet when you were about to call him out he pulled out the arrow himself. His hand hovered over the cut before a yellow light surrounded the area where he ws hurt, the wound slowly closing under the dim light.

Suddenly, the man turned behind him. Staring at you wide eyed. He had hazel pupils, something that was rare, yet not unusual. You too stared back at him shocked. Who the hell was this man? Was it a magician? A witch? Should you tell someone? This can’t be real. This cannot be happening. ‘You look like you saw a ghost…well I’m even better.’ The man spoke to you, his hazel eyes focused on you. He had sharp features and a cocky arrogant smirk playing on his thin yet pink lips. He had a nice, lean yet muscular body and his voice was smooth and almost velvety…it made your head a little light and dizzy. ‘Are you feeling alright mortal? Can’t have you passing out on me?’ He told you in a hearty chuckling tone. He was suspicious. He must’ve done something to you. Your vision was a little clouded and your head felt heavy. ‘What have you done to me?’ You asked him placing one hand on your head. Massaging it a little. Your eyes focused on the suspicious man. The man Hmph-ed and scoffed. Closing his eyes, seemingly hurt and offended that he was accused of something like that.

‘I didn’t do anything, you idiot. Who do you take me for? That’s no way to talk your god!’ he said to you, crossing his arms and keeping his head high. How arrogant! And why is he claiming to be a god? That’s disrespectful! Claiming to be a god is highly disrespectful and insulting to your religion. ‘You can’t just claim you’re a god mister. It’s disrespectful.’ You told him carefully which made him scoff at you. ‘I’m no pretender! Seriously who do you take me for! It’s me! Apollo! Your lord! Your sweet, charming, loving, amazing sun god!’ Apollo told you proud fully, his strawberry pink like hair glistening in the waters. But he couldn’t help but chuckle when he looked at your flabbergasted face. His arms reached out to your body and he pulled you in the water with him. His hands on your broad shoulders while he looked you deep into your eyes, his face held a confident smirk and his hands soon began to make its way to your face, cupping it slightly. ‘Keep your god company, won’t you?’ Apollo asked you softly whispering in your ear. The sudden action once again made your head spin.

There was no denying that Apollo was attractive and charming….and seductive. But it was still highly Inappropriate to have something with the god you worship. Would you be allowed to go into the temple again? What if you end up like most of his lovers who have met unfortunate fates? Dying isn’t something you wanted…even if being with your god seemed like a dream. Would it really be a good choice to accept? Is that really what you want? So many questions yet so little answers. It made you dizzy and uncomfortable which cause you to take a fews steps back which made the god stunned. ‘I don’t know if that’s what i want...’ You told him slowly and carefully. You didn’t want to make quick and reckless decisions.. there was too much at stake. ‘I decline. I’m sorry my lord’ You told him carefully but firmly. Even if you loved your god, it was still platonic and admiration. Not romantic love like he hoped.

To not make the situation worse you walked out of the waters, apologized for the arrow and took your leave. Leaving Apollo, even if it was still hard to process in your state of disbelief that it was really him, alone in the waters who was confused himself. Apollo was never rejected by anyone, causing him to have a stir of mixed emotions. He was hurt that you didn’t feel for him. Yet also angry you had the audacity to reject him. Yet also admiration that you wanted to put yourself first. He himself felt strange, but he was a powerful and confidant being. And rejected won’t a final answer. After all. In Apollo’s myths he never took no for an answer either…

🌻Thank you for reading! 🌻

#apollo #apollo x reader #record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv #ror #ror apollo #snv apollo #ror apollo x reader #snv apollo x reader #male reader #record of ragnarok apollo #apollo snv #mxm fanfiction #mxm #male x male #apollon #gay #bi apollo

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softieekayy · 11 months

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In the dark of the Night

Hannibal x vampire!reader

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: the reader is characterized with having a mole under her left/right eye and brown/black hair. (She also comes from greek origins and I sincerely hope I don’t offend anyone.) reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🧸

Biologically, vampires were impossible. Their immortality and survival on blood didn’t make any sense, in the scientific and medical sense. At least that’s what Hannibal Lecter believed for the majority of his life. Until he stumbled upon one, in the dark of the night where in an alley there stood a creature of the night, blood thirsty, sucking on the neck of a lifeless man.

Hannibal paused, he didn’t know if it was in shock or intrigue, perhaps it was a mix of both. But at this moment, he didn’t care what it was. He was taken so dearly by this bewitching creature. Oftentimes, he wondered what vampires looked like, in his head, they were ugly beings with protruding teeth and rotten grayish flesh from the lack of sun. Not once in his life did Hannibal ever think that they’d be so beautiful. This woman who stood in front of him was bewitching with hair that cascaded beautifully down her back in perfectly done curls and makeup done with perfection and down to the outfit she wore. She was perfection.

“I wonder if I should let you live or die.” The woman in front of Hannibal smirked, snapping him out of his momentarily trace while discarding the corpse as though he was nothing. To her, he was nothing more than a blood bag. Hannibal noticed her fangs, sharp canines that looked nothing out of the normal.

“I believe my death will bring you peace for your secret.” Hannibal responded breathlessly, stil so taken by the beauty in front of him. He watched as she moved fluidly, quick and fast, he observed how the moonlight beamed on her skin making her look ethereal. In a quick moment, she was in front of him, gripping his chin between her fingers as she observed. Hannibal didn’t know why nor did he care why but his breath hitched, not allowing air flow to get to his lungs. He couldn’t breathe but he didn’t care to, if he could die in this moment, he’d die a happy man. Death at the hands of a death Angel.

“I can hear your heart, are you scared?” The woman whispered in his ear, giving a slight lick on the shell of his ear as she huffed out a small laugh.

She pulled back, watching him curiously.

Something about him drew her to him. She didn’t want to kill him. However, her soul was drawn to his, something that she could tell was as old as she was. Older than life itself.

“Do as you please.” Hannibal whispered, closing his eyes, awaiting his death. Upon feeling nothing, Hannibal was confused, he wondered why she didn’t kill him. He opened his eyes, eyes that were the colour of rum and a slight tinge of maroon, eyes that held warmth hurried deep within. The woman in front of him was observing him, similar to a cat observing its prey, her blood stained mouth pulled into a slight frown.

She took one step forward, sauntering like a cat and in a moment, before Hannibal had known what happened, she stood next to his ear, whispering “Find me when you have time, we need to have a long chat.” Before leaving a small kiss on his jaw, leaving behind a red lipstick print, the only thing he’d have to hold on to for a long while.

Time passed quickly and before Hannibal knew, it had been decades since he’d seen the beautiful beast in that dark alley. He was a young boy then but a grown man now and somewhere deep in his soul, he missed her. He didn’t understand why and he won’t for a while, fate has decided to play a cruel game on him. He still remembers the inquisitive look that she held in her eyes and the way the moonlight made her look like an angel from the highest of heavens.

Even as he stood now, in the dark street, his face being lit by the moon, he thought of her.

His eyes were closed and his head tilted up, as if he was long awaiting death. She thought he looked like a fallen angel, craving for the touch of heaven again. Unbeknownst to him, the immortal beauty had been keeping up on him. She watched him grow from a 20 year old boy in medical school to the man he was now. A beautiful man with the appetite for something so dark.

“Hmm, you look as delectable as the night I met you.” She hummed, voicing her thoughts. Hannibal snapped his eyes open, looking towards her direction, bewilderment coating his face. Calling her a young woman would be quite the irony for she was as old as time itself.

She sauntered forward like a fox, her black lace skirt flowing down her legs seamlessly, lips stretching into a foxy smile with fangs protruding onto wine red lips. Even at night she dressed like a beauty and Hannibal could not stop staring at her, his soul wanted her, no, it craved her.

“You’ve developed quite the palette, love. A very interesting one at that.” She told him, leaning against the wall, a respectable distance still between them.

“You told me that we’d talk when I find you, it seems that you’ve found me instead.” Hannibal mused, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“It seems that I did.” She smiled up at Hannibal and he smiled in return. He may not know her in this lifetime, but their souls are well versed, knowing every inch of one another. The two walked forward to each other, two hunters coming together for the hunt of a lifetime.

“I believe we can have that talk now.” She told Hannibal, her lips almost brushing his own as their noses touched. Hannibal hummed in slight agreement.

“I believe that we can do the talking later.” He told her before kissing her, his lips twisting with hers in a passion that cannot be recreated. His hand gripping the back of her neck as her hands gripped Hannibal’s shirt, in an almost desperate manner.

She pulled back, giving Hannibal the chance to catch his breath, she didn’t need to breathe.

“Oh my dearest heart, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” The young woman told him, laughing a little when Hannibal pulled her close to his chest, resting his cheek on her head laughing a bit as well.

“So tell me now, why is it that you never killed me back then.” Hannibal asked her, leading her into his home and looking back at her. Despite the way her beautiful eyes glimmered in the warm light, they held a deep sadness within them.

“I’ve lived a long long life, my love.” She told Hannibal, caressing his cheek as she smiled. Hannibal leaned into her touch, wanting more.

“I’m here to listen to your pain.” He told her, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Her body wasn’t warm, it hasn’t been for over a thousand years. It was cold, like a dead one.

“I was born in 487, in Ancient Greece, during the Hellenistic period, I was a priestess of the great goddess Artemis, a goddess of the hunt. A young woman who was to spend the rest of her days living in the temple of the goddess. Of course, back then I hadn’t known what life would hold for me. I was young and naive, wanting to help anyone who came to the Goddess’ temple.” She told Hannibal, her eyes closed and head tilted back as she reminisced the days of her early youth. Even though it had been over 2,400 years ago, she remembered it clearly.

Hannibal observed her closely, her hair that was once up nearly now lay in curls down her back as one hand held a glass of red wine he had kindly poured for them. Her nails were long and sharp, like claws but nothing out of fashion. She truly looked like a temptress, and maybe, just maybe, many stories of vampires being beautiful stemmed from her.

“There was this one night, it was cold and rainy all day, an indication that a storm was about to come. Many thought that the great god Zeus was upset hence why everyone stayed home that day. Women that came to pray for their daughters didn’t come, pregnant ladies hoping for a safe birth didn’t come and men who prayed for a good hunt did not come.” The old vampire told Hannibal and to him, it seemed like a myth. Her life, her humanity was so long ago that it seemed impossible to Hannibal yet it was. She was living proof of it.

“Yet there was this man who came, seeking shelter in the temple.” Hannibal listened to his companion continue her story.

“A young man in his 30’s I assumed. But he was beautiful, more beautiful than any creature I had ever seen. His hair was long and blonde and he was dressed in the richest of robes. I, being the young lady I was, allowed him in. I trusted him, fed him and gave him shelter from the rain. And he betrayed me.” She told Hannibal, the glass that she had been now shattered as broken shards embedded themselves into her skin.

Quickly Hannibal took her hand, eyeing for any injuries yet finding none.

“Are you hurt, my dear.” He asked her and she simply pulled her hand away before shaking her head no.

“What happened? What did this man do to you?” The older man asked her, running his hands through his slowly graying hair, worried about what she might say next.

“He betrayed me. That night, after feeding him and giving him a place to sleep, I went to pray to the goddess, to pray for the safety of my community and the children and for the families to never starve. I was just setting up her altar after praying when he attacked me. A growling creature with teeth as sharp as a sword and glowing red eyes, he turned to me and smiled and said “you’re a stupid little lamb aren’t you. Letting strangers you don’t know into your sanctuary.” Those words were the last I heard before searing pain and finally, darkness.” She sighed deeply, as if she had just breathed out the pain she held in her heart.

Hannibal felt pain for her and the way her life ended. She may be alive but she’s a walking corpse, she doesn’t breathe nor does she sleep. She’s not warm and she’s not alive. There’s no beating heart in her body.

“What about your family?” Hannibal asked her, making her smile slightly and look up at him, she stood up and walked over to him, running her hand through his hair and Hannibal leaned into her touch like a cat.

“I believe they simply thought I died in the storm, and I believed that it was best for them to believe that. My sister went on to have kids and so did my brother. However, my mother and father never really moved on from losing me.” The old vampire told Hannibal, and he nodded, understanding her reasoning for not going back.

“Come my love, you have work tomorrow and I have things to do.” The brunette told him, leading Hannibal up the stairs to his room and he followed behind her as if in a trance. Once reaching his room, he took out his nightwear and sat it on the dresser as the young woman watched.

“Are you going to leave again?” He asked her, not recognizing the voice that came out of him. He sounded like a small boy asking for someone to stay. He sounded pathetic to himself.

“Only to get my stuff. Unless you’d like me to leave.” The young woman winked towards the end of the sentence and laughed. Hannibal laughed when he came up to her and leaning down to her level, he placed a kiss on her lips and she returned it with just as much passion.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” She told him after pulling back from the kiss, and kissed his cheek.

Their one morning turned into another and another and sooner than later, they moved in momentum. One could not function without the other, a flowing river.

Hanniabl proposing to her wasn’t very secretive, he did it in their kitchen, while she marked work of her students, the pair had decided to settle in Baltimore, Maryland where Hannibal worked as a psychiatrist and his wife as a teacher. She always had a thing for children and teaching. Unfortunately due to her being physically dead, she could not have any children of her own.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?” Hannibal asked her one day, not bothering to look up from the veggies he was cutting. His lover smiled at him, putting her hand under her chin in faux thought, fangs poking her cherry lips.

“I have never really thought of it. I’ve had lovers, yes, I’ve been a mistress and everything in between yet I have never thought of marriage. Why do you ask?” The smile never left her face as her attention was fully directed towards Hannibal. She sat up straight, dark hair cascading down her back in Hollywood curls as she crossed her legs one over the other before pulling up the sleeves of her sweater.

“If you’ve had lovers, you never thought of marriage?” Hannibal questioned, a small hint of laughter in his voice. He looked up at her, hair disheveled from the long day he’d spent with patients.

“They were lovers, not someone I’d consider spending the rest of my life with.” She told Hannibal in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes held warmth when she looked at Hannibal, he noticed the way her body lost its rigid posture around him and the way she let herself become more loose.

“Would you marry me?” Hannibal dropped the question, his breath hitching in his throat while he anticipated her answer. Anything other than a yes would kill him, physically and emotionally.

“Without a doubt.” The dark haired woman told him as she hopped down from her place at the kitchen bar and made her way towards Hannibal. He looked over his shoulder at her, smiling at her.

“If you’d said anything other than a no, I think I would’ve died.” Hannibal told her, standing up to his full height, towering over his lover. He pulled her into his embrace as she rested her hands on his chest, looking up at Hannibal with a love drunk look on her face.

“When should we start planning?” She asked him, elated beyond means yet not letting an ounce of it slip through her voice. Hannibal let out a laugh before bending down to kiss her passionately.

“You can do the planning, I can assure you that money will be no issue.” Hannibal informed her as he went back to continuing their dinner.

“Sweetheart, I've more than enough money to last us for generations. I’ve been alive for so long and many of my lovers have transferred their assets to me as well. So yes, I agree, money will be no issue.” She laughed and Hannibal laughed with her.

It was not long after this dinner that the wedding planning began.

(Y/n) had a famous dressmaker that she had turned into her kind to forever make her dresses. A polish woman by the name of Olg, a fiesty woman. No matter how grumpy she may seem, the older woman had always thought of the brunette as her own daughter ever since she lost her own.

“Olga! It’s good to see you!” The young woman greeted the older lady with a tight hug and a kiss to the cheek. The older one returned the hug before pushing her back to take her in.

“Still the mournful colours you wear. Reds and blacks and grays. I see that nothing has changed.” Olga told (Y/n) with a distasteful tone. The younger one never listened to Olga when she told her to wear more colourful clothes. The only colours she had in her pallet were blue and red.

(Y/n) laughed fondly before hugging the old lady again and dragging her to the car. The ride home was filled with chatter about everything and nothing. Olga pestered the brunette about Hannibal and to know more about him. She was excited, her daughter, not by blood, finally found love within her life. Someone whose eyes light up when she enters the room and the one person who looks at her as if she hung the stars specifically for him.

“Have you thought about wedding dress fabrics?” (Y/n) hummed in thoughts the question. When she was born, it was a plain white fabric wrapped around you. Although she was very fond of the dresses that were worn in the 1800’s. The puffy dress with off the shoulder sleeves, ugh, (y/n) loved them so much. She liked to think that they were the height of fashion, Olga liked to disagree.

The ride home went by faster than the two ladies expected yet they were not disappointed. Olga was happy to be here to judge the groom in person.

“Do you smell that?” (Y/n) sniffed the air, smiling as she straightened out her dress and fixed her hair before bending down to pet Lucius, a fluffy black cat that wandered the grounds of the Lecter home. Olga indeed did smell that, she smelt meat with a tinge of blood and she was absolutely starving.

While the young brunette cooed at the cat who was now spread out on his back, Olga examined her surroundings. The home was nice and modern, it was a large home with a glass front.

“Do you like it?” (Y/n) asked Olga before guiding her into the home. It was just as beautiful on the inside with a blue coded interior.

“Hm, it’s quite nice. However it compares nothing to the estate that one Lord gave you. Madly in love, he was.” Olga reminisced, pointing her finger at the younger woman who laughed boisterously. The younger woman led Olga into the kitchen where Hannibal was just finishing up the dinner.

“Oh hello, my love.” Hannibal perked up at the greeting before turning around to greet his wife to be. (Y/n) kissed him on the jaw and hugged him and he returned the hug.

“Hello Angel.” Hannibal smiled, caressing her cheek before kissing it in greeting. (Y/n) pulled back before walking back to Olga and introducing her.

“Hans, this is Olga, my mother in all but blood.” (Y/n) enthusiastically introduced the older woman who was busy sizing up the tall man. He had charm and was good looking. He could also cook. However, all that mattered was that he loved her daughter and that she loved him.

“It's a great pleasure to finally meet you, (y/n) has spoken greatly of you.” Hannibal smiles at the woman who nods slightly at him in acknowledgement. He gestured for all of them to take a seat and they did, Hannibal sitting at the head of the table with his fiancee on the right and Olga on his left. Dinner was a silent deal, Olga didn’t know how to feel. There were many times in the past where (y/n) had come close to marrying yet never did. She only hoped that this couple would last for eternity and beyond. Olga knew deep down that it will, she could see it in the way they both looked at each other. Hannibal looked at her as if she was the breath of fresh air he’d been looking for his entire life while (Y/n) looked at him as if he was the only thing that she lived for.

Dinner was a silent affair and Hannibal was an excellent cook. After dinner, (y/n) wandered off into her study to mark the remaining work of her students as Olga cornered Hannibal in the kitchen.

“She’s loved men greater than you, many Kings and Lords who were willing to lay their lives down for her beauty.” Olga informed Hannibal who listened intently, trying to ignore the clenching feeling in his heart. He knew that his lover had many before him yet he never felt insecure, not until this moment that is, the words from Olga’s mouth put that into perspective. If great kings and lords were willing to die for her, then who was he to deserve her love?

“Yet she never married any of them.” Hannibal retorted looking up at Olga, maintaining eye contact as some form of dominance.

“No, she almost did though. A man, a lord really. A widowed man, he was. His wife had succumbed to the chills and (Y/n) was new at court, quickly catching the eye of the young lord.

Their love was pure and young, like a freshly bloomed flower. However it did not last unfortunately, the young lord succumbed to a strange illness that (Y/n) would never die from.” Olga told Hannibal who listened closely to a piece of his fiancée’s history. Olga stood leaning against the counter, watching Hannibal, waiting for a reaction.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. However, she has me and I have her, I am not succumbing to any illness soon.” Hannibal smiled at Olga in a sarcastic manner who just smiled back at him, glad that he hadn’t let the jealousy overcome his conscious mind.

“You, my boy, will do just fine.” Olga pat Hannibal on the back and wandered off, leaving the older man to his own thoughts. Hannibal himself wasn’t less than royalty, he was the Count of Castle Lecter in Lithuania, his mother was a descendent of a family that ruled over Milan for 290 years.

He was on par with any king or lord that would die for his wife to be. She was beautiful, perhaps even the most beautiful creature to walk this earth.

Lost in thought while doing the dishes, he didn’t notice his lover walking in. The slight touch of her hand on his back caught Hannibal off guard as he let out a sigh of relief once he saw it was only his lover.

“Are you alright?” She questioned him, a worrisome look on her face as her eyebrows furrowed together, wondering what made him so panicky. Her hand travelled from rubbing his shoulder to caressing his face. Hannibal sighed gently before allowing himself to lean into her touch, cherishing every moment.

“I’m quite alright, dear.” Hannibal told the young brunette in a soft yet tired voice. She muttered a quiet “oh Hannibal,” before encasing him in a hug. Hannibal hugged her tightly, afraid that she was just a dream that his mind had conjured up before burying his face in her neck, allowing himself to breathe in her scent.

(Y/n) pulled back from the hug, bending her neck down to look at Hannibal as a frown overtook her beautiful face. She carded her hands through his hair before they settled on his face.

“How will you tell me what’s wrong?” She asked him gently and Hannibal, just for a brief moment, lost control over himself.

“Olga told me about your past.” Hannibal barely whispered out in a bitter tone. “She told me about the man who you nearly married and the kings and lords who were willing to lay their life down for you.”

“Oh my dear heart, that man was someone I loved years ago. But you, my dear, you are my love now. My star and my moon.” Hannibal relaxed at her words of reassurance, fully pulling away from their embrace.

“Let’s head up to bed now, I’ll start a fresh bath for you. It’ll help you relax.” She smiled at him and patted his cheek before heading upstairs.

Hannibal stole a quick kiss from his girlfriend before going back to doing the dishes. Once he finished, he wiped his wet hands on a towel and removed his apron and hung it on the hook before heading upstairs. Halfway up and he can already smell the scent of jasmine and sandalwood beginning to drift through the air. Hannibal tilts his head up and takes in a deep breath, already feeling a bit relaxed.

“There you are my star.” (Y/n) called out to Hannibal as she got up from the bed. “I’ve been waiting patiently for you, truly had half a mind to go and grab you myself.” She tells him, Hannibal laughs as he makes his way to their bathroom.

Even at the end of the day she looks like an Angel. His beautiful angel, crafted by god just for him. He removes his clothes, putting them in the hamper and then getting into the bath. Sandalwood and Jasmine, the scent that comforted him the most simply because it belonged to his wife. He remembers the first time he saw her, in that alley way, smelling like freshly bloomed jasmine with a hint of sandalwood.

“Take your relaxing bath, I’ll see you in bed.” The young woman told her lover before kissing him on the corner of his lips and strutting into the room. Hannibal relaxed fully now, lowering himself into the extremely hot water. It felt nice to have someone care for him like this. Sometimes he let his mind wander and wonder if this is the type of love Mischa felt when she was being cared for by her elder brother. He missed his sister, his little star in the sky. Now she truly was a part of the sky. Shaking his head, Hannibal closed his eyes and drifted off a short sleep.

Once he woke up, 35 minutes had passed and his body had already pruned. Quickly getting out, he moisturized and put his night suit on. His wife, although they weren’t married legally, was on the bed, reading a book that was centuries old. She was there when it was written, hence her copy is an original.

“I thought you weren’t coming out of that bath today.” She joked, smiling up at him.

“It seems like you made it too relaxing.” Hannibal joked back, poking her side making her laugh. Sweet laughter that sounded like wind chimes. She set her book aside, arranging the pillows so that she laid down properly on them.

“Ready to sleep?” Hannibal asked her, moulding himself around the shape of her body.

“With you? Always.” She tells her husband, moving closer to rest her head on his beating heart, allowing it to lull her to sleep. Hannibal moved his cheek atop her head, breathing in that familiar scent of metallic blood and jasmine, allowing the scents to send him to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was usual, Hannibal woke up first, made breakfast, woke up his wife and Olga, ate breakfast and then got dressed and headed off to work, he was now consulting with the FBI.

(Y/n)’s routine was the same as well. She ate, came up, got dressed for her teaching job, grabbed her papers and headed off to school.

Olga, well, she didn’t exactly have a job however, she had decided to get a head start on the wedding fabric. She knew that (Y/n) wanted something that was classic and elegant yet also wanted lace. She headed to multiple fabric stores and picked up multiple fabrics, allowing her surrogate daughter to pick one she liked the most. She wouldn’t admit it but Olga was excited, her daughter had happiness once, yet it was snatched straight out of her hands and now, she has a second chance at it with a great man.

The day came and went, by the time she reached home, it was 3pm and two hours later, (Y/n) returned home.

“Olga! What is all of this?” She asked surprised, shutting the door and taking off her gloves and coat, (y/n) put them on the couch and sat beside Olga.

“I brought fabric. The sooner you choose the type, the sooner I can begin the design.” Olga told her. The younger girl looked at Olga for a moment before hugging her tightly and kissing her cheek.

“You shouldn’t have!” She told her once, pulling away from the hug.

“Nonsense child. Now choose your favorite fabric.” And with those words, (y/n) began to finger the fabric and examined them closely. Some were beautiful crème coloured fabrics with a pearl sheen and others were decorated with gold threads and white coloured flowers embroidered. It was simply beautiful. However, the one that truly caught the young woman’s attention was a beautiful ivory coloured fabric with beautiful lace detailing and the fabric was woven with silver, causing it to have a beautiful shine in the sun and light.

“That one is it.” Hannibal called out from the door making his wife jump. She glared at him for a moment before running her hands through her hair. He laughed and shed his coat jacket, sitting next to his wife.

“It's beautiful, isn’t it.” She told him and Hannibal nodded. The fabric truly was one of a kind, however, his wife was more beautiful than any fabric or creature.

“I agree but I think that you’ll make it shine even more.” He tells her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and kissing her. (Y/n) raised his hand to his cheek, deepening the kiss a bit more.

“So that’s the fabric I assume.” Olga guessed.

“Well then, I’ll get started on the dress.” Olga kissed (y/n) on the cheek and headed to the sun room that was converted into her studio.

4 months passed by and their routine continued. Hannibal and (Y/n) headed off work while Olga worked on the dress, keeping it a secret from the bride. A month later, the dress was ready.

“The flower arrangements are beautiful, aren’t they.” The brunette gushed over the flowers, clutching onto Hannibal’s arm as he agreed. They truly were beautiful. Baby’s breath paired with lilac coloured flowers.

“Have you sent the invitations?” Hannibal asked the wedding planner who nodded. Hannibal nodded in acknowledgement and placed his hand over his wife’s.

“Everything will be perfect, my love.” Hannibal tells her normally, kissing her forehead before muttering a soft “And anyone who messes it up will be our dinner.” (Y/n) smiled at that. They weren’t innocent, Hannibal supplied her blood and the rest ate with her.

Their wedding date was in a week and good lord did that week come fast. At work Hannibal had made good friends with Will Graham and that man was his best man. Hannibal had friends, many friends, yet Will Graham was surprisingly his closest.

“Are you ready?” Will asked Hannibal who looked at him through the mirror.

“To marry her? Any day.” Hannibal replied in confidence, making Will laugh.

“I just went to see her, she looks like a vision come true. Now I see why you call her angel.” Will laughed, running his hands through his unruly curls. Will hadn’t only become friends with Hannibal, he also became friends with his wife. Will reminded (y/n) of her brother, one that she never got to see grow.

“Are you ready?” Maya asked (y/n), straightening her veil before grabbing ahold of her hands.

“Maya, I’ve been waiting over 9 centuries for this, I am ready as I'll ever be.” (Y/n) tells her long time friend, squeezing her hands in confirmation.

“Alright then, let’s get you married.” Maya said, linking their arms together.

Will was right, his wife to be was a beautiful vision. Olga did so wonderfully designing the dress, it was reminiscent of fashion during the Tudor period, with a beautiful ivory bodice decorated with the most beautiful blue and gold birds and flowers, the skirt was simple and trimmed with lace as well as the arms. It was a heavy skirt with multiple layers of fabric. A true Tudor wedding dress. Her hair was done up and a few loose curls framed her face, the makeup suited her well, dark eyes with a dark lip and the finishing touch was a dark blue lace choker, with a pendant depicting the goddess that she once served.

“You are stunning.” Hannibal sighed out in disbelief, still looking at his wife and took her hands in his bigger ones.

The priest officiated the wedding and they said their vows, sealing the ceremony with a kiss.

Maya cried at the Vows while Will teared up a little, praying to whatever god there was to find a love like theirs.

“I’ve waited a thousand years for you, Hannibal. I’ll wait another thousand if it means to have you in my arms.” She tells him, placing her hand on his cheek as he leans into it.

“I’d wait a thousand years to feel your touch and your love again, my beautiful, beautiful wife.” Hannibal tells her, tilting her chin up before kissing her again. They are finally married now, after centuries (Y/n) found someone to love for centuries to come and Hannibal found someone to love.

Tagging my beauties: @chchchcheni @shawty-writes-a-little @jake-g-lockley @dimitrisebastian

#hannibal #Hannibal lecter x reader #Hannibal x reader fluff #Hannibal lecter x reader fluff #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal fluff #hannibal x reader angst #hannibal x reader #Hannibal Nbc #will graham #Hannibal Lecter imagine #nbc hannibal #fluff #vampires #slashers #slashers x reader #mads Mikkelsen #Mads Mikkelsen fluff #Mads Mikkelsen x reader fluff

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cryptidghostgirl · 6 months

Text

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any? Please correct me if I am wrong. The subject matter is a little niche.

Description: Alastor reencounters an old friend.

Word Count: 2,871

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A/N i’ve been reading about roman magic laws for school okay?? don’t judge me. Maybe one of the nichest things I've ever written (except that one Akutagawa x Reader fic I have on my Wattpad where I made them talk to one another in ancient Greek and Latin (its called Leo, Leonis and tbh, that fic slaps if I do say so myself)). Won't be surprised if no one reads or likes this one but I don't care. This will be a monster of a fic, she's been lurking in the recesses of my mind for a hot second now.

"Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn't accept her?" Charlie was animatedly talking at Alastor as they walked the streets of Hell, "What about me, ME, says un understanding... misunderstanding?... Disunder- Wait, w-where are we?"

Alastor sprung to life as Charlie finally asked a question he had an answer to. Theatrically, he stepped into her curious line of sight, his arms held wide.

"Cannibal Town!" respectfully, Alastor turned and took Charlie's arm in his own, "There's a friend of mine I think you should meet."

"In Cannibal Town?" Charlie doubtfully asked as Alastor began to lead her towards a crowded shop entrance, "But it's... it's... surprisingly nice here."

"Isn't it, though?" Alastor proudly replied, "And it is all thanks to a very special someone."

Alastor opened the stained glass doors to the emporium, allowing Charlie to walk through them before he followed in her wake. The store was full, packed to the brim with cannibals of all sorts, all of whom seemed to part respectfully in the face of Alastor, allowing him to approach the front counter with Charlie trailing after him.

"Ah, Johnny my good fellow." Alastor hummed to the cashier, leaning casually on the counter.

The demon seated behind the table looked up with a wide smile.

"Mister Alastor, it has been quite a while since we've seen your face around these parts."

Charlie watched the interaction in mild surprise. It wasn't often she had the pleasure of meeting someone Alastor knew who didn't hate him or want him dead. Curiosity clouded her mind as Alastor waved the man off.

"I don't mean to be rude but, we're in a bit of a rush." Alastor said, politeness pooling delicately around his words, "Rosie wouldn't happen to be in, would she?"

"Ah, well, you see, Mister Alastor..." the demon seemed slightly uncomfortable, scratching at his ear slightly, "She's a tad... preoccupied at the moment?"

"A guest?" Alastor asked.

"A guest." Johnny reluctantly confirmed.

"Well, no matter. Is she in the back?"

"Yes," Johnny got to his feet, leaning forward as Alastor linked arms with Charlie once again, leading her behind the counter, "but I really don't think it's a good idea to... and they're gone."

"Wasn't that rude?" Charlie asked as Alastor pulled her behind the curtain that separated the main store from the backrooms and Rosie's apartment, "Oh no, is that guy going to get in trouble? Because of us?"

"Everything will be just fine my dear, don't you worry." Alastor patted her hand reassuringly as they came to stop before a door.

Letting Charlie's arm fall free, he straightened his jacket just the slightest bit before knocking on the door. There was a moment of silent anticipation before a voice from the other side called:

"Who is it?!"

"Alastor, Rosie." Alastor replied calmly.

There was a rustling of fabric, a handful of hasty footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal a woman. She was tall and beautiful in her long dress and her wide brimmed hat.

"Oh my stars!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, "Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor? Alastor! Where have you been? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and-"

The woman, Rosie, trailed off as she caught sight of Charlie standing beside her dear friend.

"Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you. Oh, I'm just kidding. But where are your manners, Mister? Introduce us, why don't you?"

"Ah, yes, Charlie, this is Rosie: the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram."

At his words, Rosie smiled, giving a perfect curtsy. It was as her form lowered that Charlie caught sight of the interior of the room, and the strange seated figure it housed. Alastor seemed not to have noticed and as Rosie straightened herself up again, she laughed slightly.

"Oh, always such a charmer."

"And Rosie," Alastor continued, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to Princess Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell."

Charlie smiled weakly, waving slightly at the imposing and nearly off-puttingly cheerful woman.

"How do you do?" she asked awkwardly, "I am very sorry for interrupting your meeting, I tried to get Alastor to wait but..."

"Oh, yes!" Rosie suddenly exclaimed, almost as if she had forgotten about her previous guest in all the excitement, "Come on in you two, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Charlie was about to protest when Rosie grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the room. Alastor followed, turning his back as he shut the door behind them. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as her eyes finally saw the truth of Rosie's guest.

She was tall, probably tall enough to rival Alastor or Rosie herself. Skin tinged slightly blue, she seemed to be covered in a faint gold dust that clung to her draped, toga-like dress and skin in equal amount. Heaps of gold jewelry hung on every inch of her as well, wrapping her wrists, her neck, her ankles, her fingers, even braided into her hair. Resting atop her head was a crown of gold with a half moon on it, her feet were bare. With wide, white eyes that nearly seemed unseeing, the woman watched Charlie carefully.

"Can I offer you something to eat?" Rosie was asking, but Charlie could barley hear her, unable to break eye contact with the woman, "I'm sure I have a leg around here or something..."

"I am afraid were not here for food." Alastor thankfully stepped in, turning to Rosie with closed eyes and a wide smile, "We happen to be in need of some help."

"Alastor?" the woman spoke and her voice resounded in itself, loud yet soft at the same time, singular and yet somehow plural.

"Well, aren't you fresh."

That was the first thing she had ever said to him. Alastor had been wandering Hell, minding his own business when he had heard that voice say those words and felt a fire ignited in him. Slowly, he had turned around to see a pair of towering demons. Overlords, he realized, and big ones at that. Alastor's smile sharpened at its edges as he began to formulate a plan.

Charlie turned at last, as if whatever spell the stranger had cast on her had broken at the sound of her voice, to look at Alastor in mild confusion. She heard his breath hitch in his throat. The man in question was frozen, his ears twitching wildly, his eyes now wide open.

"Is that you?" the demon asked again.

Alastor somehow seemed to reassemble himself before their very eyes. Slowly, he turned to the room's only occupied chair.

"Who are you?"

Alastor feigned innocence, looking up at the titan herself as she took a step forward. In an instant, she stood at his height, looking him dead in the eyes.

"An odd one too." she hummed thoughtfully, white eyes tracking the stars, reading his future it almost seemed, "Most people go with what before who."

Alastor was unsure how to respond to that one. The titan chuckled, a grin flashing across her face. It was unexpected, disconcerting. Alastor hadn't thought her face capable of any expression save solemn disinterest. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking back over her shoulder to her companion.

"Zestial, cara mea?"

The spidery demon took a step forward, meeting her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have something you need to be getting to?"

Alastor may have been dumbstruck, but he wasn't stupid. He heard the order as clearly as if she had not bothered with the formalities of disguising it. It shocked Alastor to his core. This might be his first time encountering Zestial but, he had heard the demon's name before. Most frequently, it had been spat at him by his victims who claimed that one of Hell's oldest and most respected demons would come for him. So who was this other overlord, the titan? Sure, he'd heard of her before but enough that such blatant disrespect towards Hell's most respected made sense? No. Not at all, in fact.

Zestial paused a moment before bowing his head slightly.

"You're quite right." he hummed, "I will be seeing you presently I expect?"

"Perchance." the titan lazily replied, her gaze having long since switched back to Alastor, set on analyzing his features, "I'll let you know."

With another polite bow, Zestial had turned and began walking in the opposite direction. The titan held an arm out for Alastor. He looked at it curiously before meeting the demon's eye's again. She laughed.

"So suspicious. I thought you we're the one killing overlords, not me."

His eyes went wide.

"How do you..." he cleared his throat, "how did you know?"

It was a stupid question and he knew it. There hadn't been any secret keeping, not really. Sure, he never outright said he was the Radio Demon who broadcasted screams but he supposed there couldn't be many Radio Demon's out there really. It didn't matter that he had only been going after overlords for a month or so now, she was one. Of course she would know.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

All it took was one look. Suddenly, he was new again, spat fresh out of life on Earth and in to Hell's gaping maw. One look at her, and he dissolved at the edges, forming and reforming his own ability to speak and comprehend the world around him.

"It is." the woman hummed, a wide smile breaking across her face, revealing the blackness of her teeth, her mouth.

Alastor soon formed a bit of a soft spot for the inhuman overlord. It was that first meeting, that first walk. He had asked, hunting for information to wield against her, about her life on Earth and in Hell. It was her fault really, for answering. That's what had him stuck.

Y/n had laid her life out for him like a freshly pressed table cloth. She had been raised on the streets of ancient Rome and executed as a witch. She was perhaps the oldest demon remaining in Hell, the exterminations having eventually wiped out even the strongest members of her times. Just as Alastor had been reborn as a deer due to his death, so too was she reborn as what they had accused her of. Every ritual, every spell, prophecy itself all worked for her. It was then Alastor understood the interaction he had witnessed between Zestial and Y/n, then he understood the respect.

He found himself drawn to her more and more and, somehow, he always seemed to be able to find her when he went searching. He assumed it was some strange magical nonsense she controlled. Alastor didn't question it.

Y/n showed him Hell in a way he had never seen it before. She taught him where to gather herbs and how to use them, how to bend the earth to his will, how to spin iunges and call down the storms, the rain, the moon. Alastor devoured, fed by her hand.

It was odd, Charlie had never seen a demon like her before. The white eyes, the teeth black with what seemed to be darkness, the gold. All of it was off putting yet somehow, captivating. Alastor seemed to be acting weird, his eyes flitting wildly across the woman, taking in her every detail. Charlie wasn't sure what to do about that.

In some sense, Alastor seemed to be scared. In another, he was in an overjoyed state of disbelief. Charlie wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, or how to respond to either and so, she simply watched.

"I have a question, mea ocella."

Y/n announced one day and Alastor turned from where he sat spinning stories into his microphone at her feet. That was what she had called him, her little eye. She told him it was a term of endearment. Alastor had no reason to doubt. The red grass swayed slightly in the breeze as he looked up at her, immediately bringing a halt to his broadcast.

"What is it?"

"You've been so set on ending all us overlords for so long now," she hummed, "wouldn't you like to do something different?"

"Something like what?"

"See from the other side of the glass."

Her white eyes glowed blue, the gold on her skin shining out into the world around like stars. Alastor sighed.

"You're prophesying again."

She nodded in agreement. Y/n had never seen the point in lying, she had never known its use. Not since before she could remember, back in the times she lived. They were so distant now, so immaterial and unimportant she rarely payed those memories much mind.

"So, what is it you see me doing?"

"Simple riddle or play on words?"

The two types of prophesy, the two options. Alastor put a finger to his chin, humming in thought.

"Simple riddle. Please, not in dactylic hexameter if you would, decoding that always gives me a headache."

"But that has been the meter of prophecy since Justice herself sat on the Delphic throne, mea ocella." Y/n retorted in surprise, meeting Alastor's eyes.

"Yeah, well."

Y/n laughed lightly, looking back out blankly toward the future.

"As you wish, ocella. Just this once. My gift to you."

Alastor hummed his non-comital thanks, turning his gaze back out the the skyline of the city as well.

"One will be two, two will be four, when that number comes be ready for more. Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next. Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three."

"Rhymes? Really?"

Y/n looked down at him, the glow fading from her as their eyes met and the future vanished from the scope of her vision.

"You asked for no hexameter, I still get to have fun."

"Yeah, yeah."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Alastor ran the words of her fortune in his head, trying to gain any semblance of reason from them.

"They don't sound very... avoidable."

"That's because it's not one of the ones you can change."

"Oh."

Y/n pulled herself to her feet suddenly, her chiton swirling around her. Alastor watched in awe as her image flickered in the air for a moment between the image of herself just a head shorter than him, the one who loomed around nine feet tall, and some three headed monster at what must've been five stories. Leaning, she held a hand out for him to grasp. It took Alastor a moment to realize, shaking his head slightly as he at last accepted Y/n's help and got to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"I've decided you are going to be an overlord, mea ocella."

"Why?"

"I think it might help you down the line."

It had been years since Alastor had seen her. Long before he had taken his so called seven year sabbatical, Y/n had vanished. Alastor knew she wasn't dead, he would have been able to tell if she was dead. Surly the world would have shifted in some new and strange way to lose the goddess of the crossroads, the titan, Hekate made flesh and blood. Nothing like that had happened and so he knew she was alive, just not where or how.

Y/n's prophecies were always accurate. Standing here before her now, Alastor recalled her words from all those decades before.

One will be two, two will be four. When that number comes, be ready for more.

One had been just him. Two? When he had died and met his shadow. Alastor realized now that three had been Y/n herself and that the fourth important person who had come into his afterlife was the very person who owned his soul.

Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next.

Seven years he'd been gone, indeed under an unexpected and disastrous situation. When, after seven long years, he had returned to Hell, he had gone to the hotel. It was at the Hazbin Hotel that he not only met Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Sir Pentious but that they became vital parts of his life along with Husk and Nifty who before then had mostly existed on the periphery. Those six, plus the original four, made ten.

Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three.

All along, all those years ago, she had known. Alastor had always respected Y/n, always harbored a soft and disconcerting love for the witch. Never before now had either felt so overwhelming. Alastor took a trembling step forward from his place at Charlie's side. The world closed in, she was the only thing he could see.

Y/n smiled as he sunk to his knee before her, his head bowed.

"Mea ocella." she happily hummed, lifting his head up gently with the tips of her bluish grey fingers.

"Y/n."

----

This fic will probably have a part two.

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

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pottersfia · 6 months

Note

A smut one shot with George Weasley x femreader - one bed trope, enemies to lovers, angry confessions kinda thing would be soo good if you’re up for it.

warnings/content: smut ofc, fingering, george is a bit of a perv

george stared at the back of your head as he laid in his bed. how did he end up stuck in a bed with the one person he did not want to see during his winter holiday. the two of you were alone for the night as fred opted to sleep in the living room due to his cold and ginny's room was occupied by her and hermione.

you kept your eyes closed attempting to fall asleep but it was no use. george thought the slowness of your breathing and lack of movement was a clear indicator of you being sound asleep. he continued to stare.

as much as george disliked you, he couldn't help but replay memories of you in his head. he remembered the way you looked as you came out of the shower with your skin still slightly moist and soft from your lotion. before you pulled on a hoodie for bed, you wore a tight tank top and the smallest shorts he'd ever seen. you had even bent over almost exposing yourself. you were undeniably beautiful and he couldn't help but think of the things he'd like to do to you if he didn't hate you.

his mind drove him crazy and now he had an annoyingly hard problem in his pants. he didn't want to jerk himself with you right there but he figured a touch wouldn't hurt.

he reached down into his pants and touched his tip to feel his pre cum. he spread it over his tip and held back a moan. all he could think about was how nice it would be to touch you as your scent filled his lungs, you being right next to him.

"fuck." he whispered as he touched himself a little faster. this got your attention. your eyes opened and you heard little movements from george. you slowly turned and saw his hand down his pants with his eyes squeezed shut.

"george?" you whispered shouted. his eyes widened and he froze, looking over to you. "what the bloody hell are you doing?" you ask.

"i- i just, um." his face burned red.

"you just decided to start jerking off right next to me?" you sat up and scooted slightly away from him.

"y/n, i'm sorry it was-" but you interrupted him.

"don't even. what the fuck were you even thinking about that made you this horny?" you crossed your arms. "probably something stupid like a dirty magazine i bet you have or something. you're such a perv i bet you're addicted and just couldn't go one night without touching your-"

"it was you!" he almost shouted. it was your turn to be silent now. "oh my fuck, you're annoying." he leaned back on his pillow.

"what do you mean, it was me?" you asked.

"i couldn't get you and your stupid soft skin out of my head." he mumbled. as much as you disliked george you couldn't deny finding him attractive.

the two of you stared at each other in momentary silence. you didn't know what to say. should you yell at him? tell him how disgusting he is? completely leave the room? you weren't sure but the way he was staring you down with the moon shining through the window was driving you crazy.

before you knew it, you were laid on your back, chasing george's lips as he parted them from yours. he gave you a smirk as he lifted your hoodie up and off your body.

"so bloody hot." he whispered. you held back a small whimper and watched as he left kisses around your neck, collarbone, and down closer towards your chest.

george did not hesitate to pull your straps down, exposing your tits for him. he looked up at you.

"this ok?" he asked. you nodded.

"yes. get on with it, george." he smiled at you and obeyed. his kisses spread to every inch of your chest and down your torso. you played with his hair and pulled on it as he got closer and closer to where you needed him most.

george pulled your shorts off to reveal how wet you were.

“all wet for me, love?” his voice was low and rough and it sent flutters to your core. george leaned back over you so your faces were close and placed his fingers on your lips. “suck on them for me.”

you did as he said, sucking on his fingers while staring right at him. he bit his lip as he watched you, and took his fingers out of your mouth. he then reached down and slowly pushed his fingers inside you.

“fuck, george.” you closed your eyes and moaned out. he moved his fingers in and out if you making you wetter and wetter. he loved the way you looked, whimpering under him as he made you feel good. he leaned down to kiss you and you reciprocated. your sounds were muffled by his mouth and you reached down to rub your clit.

you could feel yourself getting closer and closer but you wanted all of him. you broke the kiss to look at him.

“i need you, please.” he smiled down at you.

“i’m right here, y/n. what do you need?” his fingers kept going.

“pl- please,” you whimpered again. “fuck me, george. i need you inside of me.”

“never thought i’d hear those words from you.” he said as he began to pull off his pants. you smiled and rolled your eyes at him.

“hurry up and fuck me.”

#george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 6 months

Text

Dark Moon | Chapter Fourteen

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 4,5k

Warnings | +18, yandere themes, Stockholm syndrome, fluff, smut, slight panic attack at first, body worship, pussy worship, pussy eating, face riding, fingering, nipples licking, couch fucking, vaginal sex, intense orgasms and devastating emotions, soft yandere Jimin, mentions of ruined childhood

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! 🥰❤️

Hope you are happy with this update! This one is a bit longer than the others! Always let me know your thoughts, you make me very happy ❤️

PS: Forgive me for the mistakes, it was not an easy week for me and I did not have much time 😭❤️

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon , @hecateslittlewitchling , @namjoonsbuspass , @darkuni63 , @xicanacorpse , @jiminismine4ever , @btssimpjaneth , @antisocial-mochi267 , @reallygenerouskoala , @velvet-stardust2002 , @angelicsmilesworld

Taglist is open!

Chapter List - Previous - Next

"I finally found you," huffed Seokjin in front of Choi Minhoo, the man had been tied to a wooden chair, only Minho, Seokjin, Jungkook and Namjoon were present in that warehouse. The latter were just waiting for Jin's order to act; they were vibrating with fury.

"Be careful, Jin! My family members won't be happy about this!" he ranted with foam at his mouth, as frightened and rabid as a rat in a trap, Jungkook growled at those words, put his hand to his gun that he faithfully kept in his pocket, but a glance from Seokjin froze him in place.

"Uh, that's scary," put on a fake pout Jin with those beautiful rosy lips of his, "Now I'm going to shit my pants, look."

"Take the piss out of me, they're going to destroy you anyway," he growled, but that only made the man in charge of the Bangtans smile more broadly.

"That slut of a cousin of yours hurt Jimin when he was just a little boy, the result was that her body was dismembered by my dogs, and she was still alive while they ate her, you kidnapped and raped his woman, which amounts to another member of my family now," he began as he walked toward Minho, before grabbing the collar of his torn jacket, "I'm tired of having to pick up the pieces of what you and your damn family break, I will kill you all, child or adult, I will eradicate you from this world as the haughty and arrogant scum that you fucking are," he hissed, tightening his grip so tightly that the tendons in his wrists trembled before he pulled away.

Inhaling before recomposing himself, Namjoon and Jungkook looked at each other with a smirk-that was Jin.

"Jin! Jin! Kim Seokjin, stop!" shouted Minho after him as the man walked away, giving way to his bodyguards, "You said you were interested in politics, right! I can introduce you to the prime minister!" he finally shouted desperately, but Seokjin ignored him expressionlessly.

Neither he nor Jimin would have soiled themselves for such a being. He had deliberately decided not to tell Jimin about Minho's capture, knowing him he would have wanted to kill him with his own hands, but he wanted him to spend more time with Y/N.

He knew that sooner or later Jimin would fall into the arms of a woman he would love with sincere passion, that was what was needed for a troubled soul like his.

They needed to be done with the Choi family forever, all of them.

For days there had been a tense air in the house, Jimin was not there-according to him he had vital research to do-and in his place Taehyung had arrived to keep her company. He did not even use the guest room, preferring the living room sofa to Y/N's dismay.

The living room was her favorite place to read and eat, with Taehyung having conquered that piece of the apartment by now she could always be found hanging around it and disappearing.

Taehyung on his part tiptoed around when she was present, feeling uncomfortable.

He had endangered her with his indifference, plus he had also seen her in an extremely delicate moment, where she was weak and naked in every way.

He always peered at the girl with a pout, undecided how to start a possible conversation, she was not helping him at all in this, she was always so quiet and on her own....

With a snort he saw her head for the kitchen for a snack. He had to do it now.

"Y/N" when he reached her the woman gasped slightly, she had not expected him to come and talk to her, they had ignored each other so peacefully until now, inside she regretted leaving her room.

"Yes?" she huffed slightly, turning away.

At first glance Taehyung looked like a man of integrity, serious and good at his job, but at that moment he was showing his face full of emotion. He seemed nervous about something.

"I ... would like to apologize to you," he said with a note of embarrassment, the girl's eyes widened.

"To me?"

"Yes, it was my fault that they managed to catch you that day. It was my responsibility to control and protect you, I broke my word and for that I apologize" Taehyung bowed respectfully, Y/N was simply stunned.

They had never treated her with that much respect, why now?

Something told her that Jimin's hand was present.

"It's not totally your fault, I attacked your friend and you were reasonably pissed off, I apologize for making you worry about Jimin's condition.... I lost my mind in that instant, I did the only thing I thought was right so I wouldn't suffer anymore," she explained with regret.

"You did what anyone would have done," Taehyung replied, "My anger aside, Jimin was not behaving well with you and you did what you thought was right, that doesn't mean I would allow you to do it again, but I can still understand and yes, it remains my responsibility what happened to you, there won't be a next time."

Y/N nodded a little embarrassed, the determined expression in those languidly slitted eyes put her slightly in awe.

"Um... would you like some strawberry tea? I've made too much for myself," she said turning slightly toward the full teapot, with a small smile Taehyung agreed.

"I love strawberries."

Jimin came home with such a serious look on his face that it made Y/N guess that it was better to turn away from him.

Taehyung had left ten minutes earlier and the idea of being alone with a Jimin in that state unnerved her, she did not want to think that the boy would attack her again for his frustrations, so it was best not to pull the cat's tail too much.

The boy in question noticed the girl's strange attitude, she was moving in a hurry to wash her dishes, she wanted to run to her room and this would have been clear even to the least empathetic person in the world.

"Y/N" the sound of his voice uttering her name so quietly made her freeze suddenly, the water continued to flow in the sink without any more purpose and she did not move to stop it, "Can you come here please?"

She closed her eyes with a soft, inaudible sigh, counted to three before turning away with a slight smile.

She left everything in the sink and turned off the water, then walked over to him who sat at the table staring at her with predatory, glittering eyes, one rings-decorated hand tapped on his thick, muscular thigh, the elastic fabric of his pants wrapped around it beautifully and she found herself swallowing, "Sit here."

She did as she was told and the boy's arms soon wrapped around her at hip level, Jimin buried his head between her neck and shoulder, inhaling her sweet scent.

Y/N felt herself flaring up, the sensation of Jimin's warm breath warmly caressing her made her heart, already swollen with unexpressed emotions, throb.

"Jimin?"

"I've missed you," he repeated the words with which he had returned her the day he found her, Y/N instantly relaxed noticing that Jimin did not mean to hurt her in any way.

"I missed you too," she returned the hug, sinking her face into the soft locks of the man who smiled broadly in response.

"It's been especially stressful to handle things today."

"Are you looking for Minho?"

She asked quietly, not giving away how much even mentioning his name destabilized her, but Jimin knew her well by now; in fact, he sent her a reproachful look.

"Don't ask things you don't want to know, baby," he softly stroked one cheek still marked by a light bruise.

"I just wish you would confide in me, you keep everything inside and then you get sick."

"I won't be sick if you're with me," he replied seriously, peering longingly at her, his eyes lowered to her sugary lips and he closed his eyes, trying to hold himself back.

"Jimin...."

"Y/N." he stopped her by pronouncing her name firmly, "I want to make love to you."

A delicious twinge of pleasure made her intimacy throb, the arms she held tightly around the boy's neck trembled, "Jimin, I don't know if..." she felt so confused.

Fuck, she wanted him. She wanted him with all her heart, but she didn't want to be reminded of Minho, or his henchman hitting her repeatedly as she and Jimin lost themselves in their moment.

"Let's try it," she narrowed her eyes at the man's pleading tone, it was a new side of Jimin she never thought she would see, perhaps he had never begged any woman to fuck, the idea that she was the first one he begged even for a kiss appealed to her, "If anything happens I will stop immediately."

After that reassurance she found herself nodding with soft legs, Jimin kissed her with transport, savoring those sweet lips that tasted of tea and strawberries, fuck, it could become his new favorite taste.

Y/N reciprocated more calmly, trying to keep up with the man's voraciousness that did not just stop at her lips, but sank into her mouth languidly seeking the woman's tongue, gently intertwining in a perfect dance for them.

In a way she found it touching how tender Jimin was in squeezing her hips without hurting her, she had never experienced such intimacy with a man before, she liked it, and she did not want it all to end and go back to the dry old normal.

When they parted a few tears escaped from the young woman's eyes, Jimin stepped back slightly wiping the path they traced along her tender cheeks.

"Should we stop?" he asked sympathetically, but Y/N denied it immediately.

"No, it's just... I liked it, I've never done it like that," she said.

"Like that?"

"So intimate, with someone who loves me" she pulled up with her nose crinkling her eyes.

Jimin's blood froze in his veins, not that he had been a saint, but those words punctuated how much the childhood of the girl he was holding in his arms had sucked.

He kissed her again, feeling in his mouth the salty, lukewarm taste of her small tears that broke his heart, yes, Park Jimin now felt sorry for a past that did not belong to him, but love did that and more, it changed people and Jimin fit perfectly into that category.

He loved her and would get anything that made her sad out of the way, he slid into the neckline of her blouse, kissing every available flap of skin before he himself pulled off every single button that separated him from that body that drove him crazy. From the first time he had seen her, he knew he would desire her every hour of every day, sometimes it hurt so much it was unbearable.

When he freed her from that restraint he found himself face to face with the young woman's bare breasts, he inhaled wordlessly at the sight, god how much he had missed this, even as Minho's now superficial footprints on that divine temple made him growl.

Then he frowned, "Were you bra-less the whole time with Taehyung around?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, "It hurt..." she mumbled embarrassedly, referring to the bruises clearly, the bra pressed painfully against them.

Jimin inhaled softly, again bridging the distance between the two of them with yet another kiss of the evening, lulling her gently with his breath, his hand slipped over a rosy little button, teasing its tip, which rose turgidly under Jimin's expert touch, which descended to gently lick the areola before gently biting the tip of the sensitive nipple.

Y/N in response pushed her chest into Jimin's mouth, sighing in sweet waves of desire.

The man pulled away only long enough to effortlessly pick her up and carry her to the sofa in the living room, Y/N held back a surprised sob, and she watched the man's playful smile.

"Will we do it here?" she asked curiously, Jimin chuckled.

"We'll do it everywhere, sweetheart," he sighed, attaching himself to the girl's neck with his mouth, sucking and kissing her soft neck to leave his personal mark; he wanted to remove Minho's presence everywhere from her, "And I'll make you feel sensations you never had a chance to experience."

"Mh..." she squeezed her eyes shut under the weight of Jimin descending lower and lower, marking a glowing trail of wet kisses and bites all along her belly, with his hand he passed the barrier of her panties and barely grazing her pubis he sank his hand into her intimacy, gathering between his fingers a large amount of transparent essence that had already left her throbbing slit. It was the first time he had felt her so soaked for him; it felt like a dream.

"Fuck," he cursed excitedly, quickly slipping off his pants with his free hand, giving his big, hard cock some relief.

He went back to sucking one of her turgid nipples as his fingers began to play between her folds, Y/N moved her hips willingly against his hand, in her mind the only thing present was the idea of Jimin taking her on that couch.

"How do you feel?" he asked blowing hot air on one nipple, Y/N's clit twitched seeking attention.

"It feels good... so good," she whimpered, her thighs trembling, "And I want to feel you inside me, Jimin."

The latter smiled, amazed at the woman's stance, before a more wicked grin furrowed his cheeks.

He leaned closer to the girl's ear before murmuring, "And I'm going to come inside you with my cock and my fingers, soon my cock will be the only thing you'll feel between now and tomorrow, baby doll," he ignored the girl's faster breathing and continued licking her earlobe between his lips, "But first I want you to feel what my tongue can do, I'm going to lick your pussy so well that you'll cry for it," he took off his shirt as well, showing off his well-delineated and strong abs, a deep V went down to below the layer of his boxers that he hastened to carelessly throw on the floor, the sight of his swollen cock already moist with precum made her swallow without any more saliva.

She simply spread her legs for Jimin, but the position reminded her of the one they had forced her into and she stiffened.

"Jimin..." she closed her legs again shaking her head, Jimin immediately reached for her.

"Hey, hey...what's going on, baby?"

"I can't do it like this, I'm sorry" she still couldn't get over her trauma, she was about to have a panic attack and didn't want to disappoint Jimin, but the boy hugged her again.

"There are many ways to do it," he chuckled lightly trying to make her calm down, "Don't feel wrong, you're not."

"R-Really?" she looked at him curiously, wanting to have sex with him, but other than missionary and doggy style she had not tried anything else, ever.

The man nodded, "Give me some space, love."

She did as she was told and saw Jimin lie down in her place, she stood looking at him confused.

"What should I do now?" she asked innocently, Jimin gave her a smug look.

"Sit on my face."

The woman widened her eyes, what was she to do?

"I ... are you serious?"

"Trust me, we'll both like it," he replied biting his full lips, making Y/N's legs tighten.

She sighed slightly and listened to the boy, with some difficulty due to her inexperience she found herself with Jimin's face at the height of her soggy core, she found it incredibly awkward, but that feeling of imprisonment was gone.

From his side Jimin gazed in ecstasy at her wet intimacy, licking his lips he opened her folds with a gentle thrust of his fingers, before leaving a long, slow streak of saliva with his tongue, until he stopped at her swollen and needy clitoris, Y/N widened her eyes and collapsed onto the man who did not complain.

With her nose pressed against the young woman's pubis, she sucked conspicuously on that sweet trembling pearl, Y/N cried out in shock at those strange sensations she had never experienced before, Jimin's soft tongue enveloped her softly, but the pleasure was intense, it was all so terribly beautiful and hard at the same time that she began to shake her hips trying to escape from the continuous strokes of Jimin's fast tongue. The boy seemed to love eating her.

"Fuck, oh... oh! Jimin!" she shrieked breathlessly, the man held her thighs tightly preventing her from escaping, sinking his tongue into her hot and wet entrance, Jimin's eyes rolled back at that sweet taste, he could drink Y/N's essence all his life, she would never be enough for him, his cock trembled releasing thick whitish liquid, he could have easily come that way, his balls throbbing painfully with every moan or scream the girl let out without any more reins.

"Please, please stop!" she cried as she felt something coming, something powerful and devastating.

With the tip of his tongue Jimin again played with the shiny, quivering clitoris, finishing with a light bite that made the young woman stiffen, locking her in the grip of a powerful and strong orgasm, breathtaking in places, her first fucking orgasm.

She began to tremble and weep, no longer even able to bear the gentle caresses of the man adoringly wiping away all her pleasure that had soiled the inside of her thighs down to Jimin's chin.

She rolled to the side clutching her legs and wincing again, Jimin lying on his side wrapped his arms around her, kissing her neck and shoulders, gently brushed one thigh and invited her to raise one leg, "That's it, baby girl... let me feel how good I did," he chuckled as he aligned himself with her entrance, lightly pushed the massive tip of his cock already lubricated with his own cum against her ultra-sensitive slit, Y/N gasped slightly with blurred vision, but let him.

Jimin pushed himself into the sublime depths of her pussy with a delighted sigh, tried to be gentle and delicate, but her almost impossible to groove intimacy soon made him lose his mind, the girl's previous orgasm had made her walls more perceptive and consequently also tighter, each thrust was an immense rush of pleasure and stun for the boy, who pounded hard until his swollen balls popped against the girl's sweaty skin, who opened her mouth wide, feeling a stunning mix of enjoyment with a hint of pain that made her lose her mind, pressed her mouth against the back of the couch to keep from screaming, Jimin gasped against her ear.

It was different from all the other times, she was experiencing pleasure, those thrusts were delicious, not painful, Y/N was simply happy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! You hold me so tight, my love," he sang lost in his daze, his swollen shaft began to quiver and tremble over and over again, he was coming, "Aaahh... Oh, my-! Fuck, Y/N!" he growled her name like a prayer, quickly sank his cock deeper, touching her cervix again and again, causing the woman to tremble wordlessly as she reached for the man's hand to clasp it between hers.

"I'm coming!" he exclaimed without now a breath, the girl nodded.

"Me too, oh God, me too," she replied without any more concern for her moans, Jimin smiled proudly and taking the young woman's chin in his hands he forced her to look at him.

"Open your mouth" he grunted with dark eyes, Y/N obeyed already knowing what was about to happen and accepting it with pleasure, Jimin spit into her oral cavity and before giving her time to swallow he kissed her, mixing their flavors and tongues, that was enough to make the young man's cock throb, whose pleasure exploded in violent spurts of white liquid in the girl's lap, over and over again he pumped himself into her, who came in an orgasm more intense than the previous one, she could not even find the strength to scream, she just stood there taking the man's seed in spasms.

Jimin waited for her to calm down before leaving her with his now soft and satisfied cock, he lay down beside her more comfortably and kissed her many times, wiping her face of tears with his lips and and gifting her affectionate gestures that even he did not know he was capable of.

He was fucking in love with her.

"I have a surprise for you," he murmured in her ear.

Y/N turned to him with a joyful smile, it had been two weeks since that intense and wonderful evening, Jimin had woken her up the next morning with a series of sweet kisses and breakfast in bed, he was so different from the man who had kidnapped her and that helped her fall in love with the boy even more.

"Really?" she asked trying not to appear too excited, Jimin nodded softly.

"Close your eyes," he said, but the girl looked at him suspiciously.

"Is this perhaps another one of your wild sessions that see your mouth eating me, Park Jimin?" she said with a raised eyebrow, Jimin at first had spent so much time telling her that he would never give her pleasure with his mouth, she still could not believe how much the boy liked to use his tongue to fuck her over and over again, he seemed almost obsessed. She obviously did not complain.

Jimin grinned slyly, "That one later, love," he chuckled, confirming the girl's thoughts, but Y/N stopped at that affectionate nickname, he always called her "love".

She smiled with a warmed heart once again and closed her eyes, when Jimin was satisfied he moved on to the next step.

"Now open your hands."

Y/N puffed slightly, but listened to him once more, something very light and rectangular was placed on her palms.

"Open your eyes."

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in front of an emerald-colored letter. It was beautiful, little gold leaves were drawn around the edge, intertwining, but still she did not understand what the boy was getting at.

"You wrote me a letter?" she laughed softly, but Jimin shook his head.

"Open it..." he said simply, and there Y/N could see all his nervousness.

She looked at it again, opening it slowly and pulling out a parchment-colored wrapper, she unwrapped it too and her breath caught.

She brought a hand to her mouth and sobs immediately escaped her control, Jimin held her by the shoulders to prevent her from falling.

In her hands were two photographs, the first depicted her sister smiling in the arms of a man with western features, it had been taken at a park well lit by green trees and sunlight, she looked so happy and healthy.

In the second she always had a big smile on her face, but in her arms she held a small bundle that she looked at with eyes full of love.

"She's alive," she sobbed against the chest of Jimin, who nodded relieved to have seen no negative reaction.

"Yes, she ... was bought by a wealthy american, he wanted to give her to his son as a birthday present, but he didn't expect that his son would fall in love with her and decide to marry her, she is fine and lacks absolutely nothing, Y/N."

Y/N lifted his flushed gaze into that of the boy, "Thank you, Jimin.... I know you shouldn't have investigated a client, but you did and I thank you," she hugged him as if he was her only pillar of support, which he really was.

But the boy did not look happy, shortly afterwards he sighed.

"There is also another thing in truth."

Y/N broke away slightly.

"I know everything, I know why you ran away from your family, I know why you changed your name, everything."

The woman froze.

She began to shake her head, trying to pull away, but Jimin held her back, "How did you… no, why?" she was lost, why would Jimin do such a thing? She wanted to forget her past!

"How long have you known?"

"Since you disappeared, the last words you said to me… I had to understand, Y/N."

"No! You shouldn't have done-"

"Your uncle met the end he deserved to meet," he said suddenly.

The implication was there, heavy in both their minds.

They looked at each other a few moments, then Jimin hugged her out of the blue.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he began to repeat like a mantra with his lips pressed to her temple, "He won't hurt you anymore, baby," he whispered, Y/N snuggled softly against him.

"Never again?" she made in a tiny little voice, as if the child self was asking for reassurance from the man who had become the center of her world.

"Y/N, I haven't changed," he said, the steel in his eyes confirmed to the girl what she had suspected. Jimin had not changed, he loved her and treated her well, but the killer behind those half-moon eyes that smiled at her was always there, ready to snap at Kim Seokjin's every command, and to tell the truth that realization calmed her, "I made him pay for every single disgusting thing he did to you and I made sure he will never do anything like that to anyone else ever again," he concluded, returning his mind to the moment of capture.

It had not been easy to track him down, it had turned out that he was a loan shark under the command of another Korean Mafia family, that was what got him a lot of money unlike his brother and sister-in-law.

"He played us, he said he was going to help our family," she trembled with her eyes glazed over and grainy, looking at Jimin with sadness and sorrow, "Instead it was just an excuse to..." a gasp of vomit blocked the words in her throat, Jimin brushed a light kiss against her forehead.

"That bastard got the punishment he deserved, now you're with me, that's what's important, okay?" Y/N nodded quickly, seeking comfort in his arms. Little Y/N cried bitterly in the mind of the now adult girl, seeing her mother giving in under her father's pressure, the man feared losing her brother's favor and ending up on the street.

"Do you really love me?"

"More than my own life," Jimin replied immediately, Y/N licked her lips.

"Good, because I love you too, Jimin," she whispered dimly, but the boy heard her anyway, smiling relieved he still cradled her with his chin resting on her head.

"I'll take care of you, I won't let you lack anything," he promised, Y/N closed her eyes letting him carry her to bed like a cute little doll.

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crimsonwritings · 6 months

Text

His girl

Pairing: Cassian x female reader

Summary: Cassian finally makes a move on Y/N.

Warnings: reader being insecure about herself, slight mention of body shaming.

Words: 2.4k

A/N: This was written for @starfallweek hosted by @azsazz and @writingsbychlo. Am I entirely happy with it? No. Do I want to be part of this amazing event anyway? Yes.

378 years 4 months and 19 days. That’s how long Cassian had been in love with her. Ever since that day, when Rhysand came back from a visit at the Hewn City with her in his arms, saying that she would stay with them from now on. Her family had seen a potential threat in her, because of the powers she showed. Someone who disturbed the stability of their ridiculous culture. But it was the fact that nobody wanted to marry her that had made her father scream at her, blaming her for the blindness of any potential husband.

Cassian still didn’t understand how anybody could say no to her. Her face wasn’t pretty enough they had said. Her body not tender enough, her teeth not straight enough. As if she was a mare, ready for breeding. Nonsense. He had been captivated by her beauty since the moment he met her and if somebody would have asked him he would have married her right away.

Now he was standing at the bar in the House of Wind, to grab some drinks for himself and his friends and all he could think about was her. He wondered why she still wasn’t here yet. She loved Starfall and she wouldn’t miss it by any chance but maybe something had happened? Should he go check on her? No, she surely had a date anyway who would accompany her. They were probably enjoying some alone time right now before they would eventually show up. Cassian desperately tried not to imagine her kissing somebody else, their hands gliding down that beautiful body, whispering sweet nothings into her ear…

“You know, if you grab that glass any tighter it’ll break.” Cassian jumped at the voice of the shadowsinger behind him.

“Cauldron Az, could you stop sneaking up on me like that?” He turned around to the sight of an amused looking Illyrian.

“Oh believe me, I wasn’t sneaking. You were just so deep in your thoughts that you wouldn’t have realised if a whole army stood behind you.”

“Haha, very funny. What do you even want?” He hated to be moody towards one of his eldest friends, but the picture of the girl he loved in the hands of someone else was still to present in his head.

Azriel didn’t seem to be bothered by it. “Figured you’d need some help carrying five glasses. Though I guess Rhys and Feyre won’t drink something any time soon. They just left. Together.”

The prospect of his brother finally making a move on his mate filled Cassian with excitement. “So you think it’s gonna happen? Rhysie is gonna get his girl?”

Azriel only shrugged his shoulders. For any other person it would have seemed like he didn’t care about Rhysands love life but Cassian knew exactly that the shadowsinger was just as invested in it as him. “The odds are good. But if I were you I wouldn’t be worrying about him but myself. So, are you finally gonna make a move on her tonight?”

The fact that Azriel didn’t even use her name was indicator enough that everyone knew about the Generals hopeless feelings towards her. “Oh common Az, you know she isn’t interested in me that way. I mean we are friends! For almost four centuries we’ve been friends!”

“Really?” A smirk was creeping up on Azriels face as if he knew something Cassian didn’t know.

Frustration streamed through him, he had to put down the drink and hold on to the counter, fearing he might throw the glass at the next wall. “Yes! And it doesn’t matter anyway, because she definitely has a date for tonight.”

“Does she now? Well turn around.” As Cassian did he set his eyes on the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen.

Y/N walked into the room, in a dress that shimmered like the moon itself. It was hugging her beautiful curves, then flowed to the ground from right beneath her hips, getting wider the lower it got. Oh, what he would have given to be the one to help her out of this dress later on. Her hair was pinned up, leaving her long neck on display. Cassian wanted to mark every inch of it with his tongue and teeth, until all the males in Prythian knew that she belonged with him.

His heartbeat rose up at the sight of her. She looked like a freaking goddess, drawing all the attention on her. It seemed like everyone wanted to know who the beautiful girl was. Did she even realise how they were staring at her? Women, who looked like they either wanted to kill her, or be her? Men longing after her, just like he did right now?

If she had noticed the attention lying on her she ignored it, for she strode threw the crowd, chin up, her eyes scanning the room as if she was looking for someone.

But the prettiest sight, even though he hated himself for it, was the fact that there was no other man on her arm. “She is alone!”

Cassian had whispered the words to himself, still in trance from the sight of her. He had not realised that the shadowsinger still stood behind him.“Yep, she is. And I can tell you the exact two reasons why.”

The General couldn’t tear his eyes from her. He feared she would disappear if he did, as if she was only an illusion. Thankfully Azriel seemed to understand as he spoke on without a request. “You do realise that you are literally growling at every male that comes near her? It’s like you are her personal guard dog who is following her around everywhere.”

Now the frustration crept back into Cassian and he broke his stare, trying to ignore the physical pain he felt in his chest while doing so. “Wait, you are making it sound like it’s my fault! Oh great, so she is probably pissed at me too.”

Azriel wore that annoying smirk again, Cassian could have punched him in the face for it. He decided to look at her again instead. “Well, she should be pissed if she really wanted to have somebody else as her date. Yet, she isn’t. Which leads me to reason number two.”

“Oh yeah, and what would that be?”

“The fact that she is so absolutely disinterested in any of those guys that they can see it on her face. She might speak to them and smile at them, but her eyes only ever light up when she looks at you.” As if on clue Y/N’s eyes met Cassian’s and rested there. She was gifting him a radiant smile and her eyes…they glittered as if they held a thousand stars in them. It was that moment he realised that she had been searching the room for him. And that the man who was now laying a scarred hand on his shoulder had been right.

“Please, do us all a favour and go get your girl, brother.” With that Azriel grabbed the drinks for him and Mor and silently made his way back to where their friend was located.

Cassian started to move. He needed to get to her as soon as possible. She was like a magnetic force pulling him to her and it seemed like she might have felt the same as she took her steps in his direction. They never broke eye contact on their sheer never ending way to each other. When they finally met each other in the middle of the room he was so overwhelmed by her presence that he couldn’t say anything but a whispered “Hi”.

She grinned up at him, got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Hi”

Cassian could literally feel the blush threatening to reveal him. He decided to distract her from it. “Didn’t you want to bring someone with you?”

“No, nobody asked me to be honest. But I guess I should have considered that. It’s probably just me…I mean it’s always been that way, right?” Cassian knew that look on her face. He had seen it multiple times, whenever Y/N started to feel low about herself, started to believe those ugly words these men had spoken to her a lifetime ago.

It wasn’t his intention, to make her feel like this on maybe the most important day in her years schedule.

His brain tried to find a solution for the mess he navigated himself into. He wanted to cheer her up, to spend a fairytale like evening with her before he would confess everything he kept secret from her ever since the both of them met.

But his silly little heart acted faster than he could think about something. “I’m asking you!”

“What?” Now it was her turn to blush.

There was no going back now. There would be no perfect timing and no privacy. He would tell her right here, right now, with maybe a hundred people gathering around them, in the middle of the ballroom. And if all of Velaris would call him a lovesick fool by tomorrow so be it. He didn’t give a damn about it. “I’m asking you to be my date!”

There was utter disbelief in her eyes and something that looked like worry. “Cassian, are you drunk or something?”

“Yes I am sweetheart. Drunk on you. But if you mean drunk in the traditional way then no, I’m not.”

“Cassie…” Her bashful gaze dropped to the ground. There was a strain in her voice that almost sounded like sadness, because she was afraid. Afraid that the man in front of her was only playing with her, not meaning anything he said right now.

Another small gesture Cassian recognised about her. It felt like she was a mysterious book, written in a language only he could decipher.

He used his fingers to lift up her chin, desperate for her to see the truth in his eyes.

“I should have asked you that earlier I know that. I wanted to ask you but I was so scared that you would say no and that I would risk whatever we have between us. But tonight I’ve realised what an idiot I’ve been who misinterpreted everything, or at least I hope so because otherwise this could end badly. Well, even if it does I want to say it because you deserve to know how I feel about you and I want you to see what an amazing person you are.”

Cassian had rambled his words so fast, his lungs forced him to take a breath before his crucial statement. “I love you Y/N…So will you give me the honour and make me the happiest man alive by being mine? For Starfall and for eternity?”

Her eyes went wide in surprise, her mouth agape. She looked at him as if he came from another world, as if she had never seen him before. Cassian could almost see her brain trying to realise what he had just said.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood like this, but her silence was killing him. This moment, where he could do nothing but wait for her response that didn’t seem to come. Facing that thing under the library again appeared less stressful than the uncertainty he currently found himself in. “Sweetheart? Not that I want to sound rude, but I think this is the part where you should say something.“

The disbelief in her eyes turned into mischief and before Cassian could register it she was wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down and kissing him.

He had expected a lot of things. Tears, because he had ruined their friendship. Or that she would burst out into anger, maybe throwing a shoe at his head like Feyre did to Rhysand. That she would never want to see him again. Yet she was kissing him, in front of everyone else. As if she had planned to do it for the longest time. Just like he did.

Kissing her was like everything he expected it to be and more. A thousand butterflies erupted in his stomach, travelling through his body to kiss every part that was him awake. Her fingers tangled in his hair and he moaned into the kiss at the feeling of it. There was a soft voice in his head, singing over and over again. Mine, mine, mine.

The Illyrian already missed her lips when she pulled away, chasing after them to feel the softness again, to taste their sweetness. Cauldron, he was obsessed with her by only one kiss. In that moment she could have told him to jump from the balcony with his wings bound together, like once during the blood rite, he would have done it.

She started to leave soft kisses on his neck, travelling up to his ear, and if the act itself didn’t drive him crazy than her hummed word definitely did. “Yes!”

Cassian couldn’t help but growl at her answer and in the next second he lifted her up and spun her around, enjoying the beautiful sound that was her laughter.

When the music started to play he put her back on her feet. Her hair was now slightly out of place, face a little bit red, but for Cassian she was still stunning. He wanted to take her to his room, to show her just how gorgeous she was in his opinion, but this would have to wait. For this was Starfall and he wanted to spend it with her. So he performed a slight bow in front of her, taking her hand in his to put a light kiss on her knuckles. „Would you like to dance with me, my lady?“

He could have sworn her giggles lit up the whole ball room before she answered him. „I would love to dance with you, General. Until the sun creeps up behind the mountains again.“

And so they did. They were dancing the whole night, never breaking eye contact and only stopped to watch the magnificent sight of the souls travelling along the sky. Later, when the thoughtful celebration had turned into a party, they could be seen dancing with their friends, sharing their luck with them.

The whispers that could be heard throughout Velaris the next day were positive ones, stating what a beautiful couple the both of them made. Although some claimed to have seen the General tackling their High Lord to the ground when he returned with the cursebreaker, laughing and screaming while doing so. “Rhysie! I have a girlfriend now!”

Tags: @hellodarling1357

#cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian #cassian x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #starfall #velaris #night court

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