#Strange Girl ((Violet)) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

decojellyfish · 9 months ago

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New Friend!

Hi, this is my first post! So please be nice, and if you have any constructive criticism, please comment! I hope you like it :)

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Hybrid AU! TF141 Fancy Kitty! Reader x Rescue Dog! Ghost and Rescue Dog! Soap (Feat. a tiny bit of x Owner! Price) Reader acts fem but is only addressed with “you”

SFW ~ Fluff (Tiny bit of angst, if you squint) Warnings: Mentions of death (though, not directly)

───♡───────────── Beginning Your life was everything you could ask for. Always brushed, fed the finest cuisine a kitty could ask for, and wearing the finest items your owner got you. Your favorite was a collar that looked like a pearl necklace, similar to the one your owner wore daily. Your fur smelled like her too, vintage perfume (her favorite from when she was a teenager, though she always talked about how it was hard to come by now in the modern day), and those little strawberry bonbons she always kept in her purse. And you would always have a pretty pink bow tied around the base of your fluffy tail. Resting your head in her lap, her aged hands petting your white fluffy ears or brushing them with this one brush. A beautiful golden brush, with an ivory plaque on the back that had roses, tulips, and violets painted. It was her favorite from when she was a little girl. Life is good, life is paradise.

Until one day, she didn’t get out of bed. You were still curled up in your pink fluffy cat bed, waiting to hear her sweet voice call out your name whilst serving up your borderline gourmet breakfast. After about an hour, your confusion pushed you out of bed and made you go to your owner’s room. She was still sleeping? Maybe she had a rough time sleeping last night and just felt like sleeping in. Yeah, that was it! She was pretty old after all, why wouldn’t she want to sleep in once in a while? So you curled up atop the floral bedsheets, nice and close to your owner, and waited for her to wake up. You knew she would love to wake up to her pretty little kitty all snuggled up because you missed her so much! So you waited. And waited.

And waited.

A few days passed. Wow, this must’ve been the sleepiest old woman you’d have ever seen! She even had visitors and she didn’t even wake up. It was kind of strange though. They were crying as if they were watching one of those sad movies your owner would watch, with you curled up beside her. The day your world came crashing down would be the day these strange people came to your owner’s house. One of them guided you down to the kitchen, proceeding to feed you some random wet food they found on the counter. You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were while you were waiting for your owner to wake up. You hadn’t even noticed the other people carrying your owner’s body out of the house while this one person was playing with you. Jingling your favorite bell toy, calling you a “precious little kitty, so beautiful, yes you are!” the whole time.

That’s when he came into the picture. He came in an hour after these people arrived, it was John Price. Your owner’s son. He had come to visit her a few times, you enjoyed his presence when he was visiting. Price approached you and began to pet your silky, fluffy white hair and fur. “Hey there, pretty thing. How’ve you been holding up?” You didn’t know what he meant by that, but your purrs were all he needed to hear to not fret over you. He figured you were okay and ready to go with him. When he began to guide you out to his car, that was when you realized that he was taking you somewhere! He reassured you that your owner wouldn’t mind having you go on a little trip. You didn’t know you were headed to Price’s own house, all of your belongings in his trunk unbeknownst to you. You, in the present, wouldn’t be mad at Price for taking you home with him and becoming your new owner. No, you wouldn’t mind that at all, John Price was a lovely person! Like his mother. What made you pissed at him was the fact that he never mentioned the two dog hybrids he also had ownership of. That also lived in the house.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price had told Ghost and Soap, his two rescue dogs, about the new arrival of a new addition to the family. That of which is a cat. Ghost wasn’t excited about the thought of a cat being in the house all day, every day. It annoyed him, he never really liked cats. Soap, on the other hand, was very excited to meet the new kitty. He had been waiting, impatiently, by the door ever since Price had gone off to retrieve the cat hybrid. Once Price had finally returned, Soap was ecstatic. He pounced on the first being that entered the doorway, licking their face all over. That first being was you. You screeched and hissed at the seemingly rabid dog that was coating you in slobber. He was mucking up your hair, too! Once Soap realized that it wasn’t Price, but, the new kitty that Price had brought home, he grew even more elated. Before he could continue any further with his slobber, Price had pulled Soap away from you, giving you time to breathe. Your tail was beyond fluffy now, you were terrified. Your claws were out and almost gripping the welcome mat by the front door. Soap was confused, Ghost’s guard was up, and Price knew in the back of his head that something like this would happen.

It took you a while to settle in, you were still frightened by the dogs and would try to maintain a distance from them. Ghost would happily oblige, avoiding you whenever you were around. Soap, not so much. He ruined his first impression meeting you! He scared you, and that is not what a good dog does. So, he spent all day and night all over you. He would tell you about his day, and ask you about yours, only for you to stay quiet, and then he would continue talking to you. Soap LOVED being around you. Why wouldn’t he? You’re such a pretty kitty, you smelled good, and your fur was so soft and silky! He loved pawing at the little bell attached to your pink ribbon collar. It was so cute! You looked like royalty with it. Ghost, on the other hand, would mumble about how uppity you seemed. Spoiled, bratty. I mean, at some points you did act like that. Whenever Price didn’t get the right food for you, whenever the sun wasn’t shining in the right spot for you to bask in it, or how loud and annoying the boys’ squeaky toys were. You and Ghost would often avoid each other. Whenever you would accidentally brush up against each other in the halls, it would result in you hissing and him growling loudly, baring his teeth. Price would have to step in and separate you two, telling you both to quit it. But back to Soap, who is an absolute lovebug when it comes to you. He would come by and curl up right next to you whenever you were curled up and lying in the sunlight. At first, you would get up and leave to a new spot. But eventually, you gave up and let him curl up as close to you as he wanted to. Through Soap’s constant yapping, you find out that both he and Ghost were survivors of illegal underground dog fighting. They were from different parts of the UK, but they both ended up at the same shelter. That’s how they met Price. Soap would point out all of his scars, telling their backstories, and talking about all the other injuries he went through. He would also compliment you, as well as attempt to pamper you. You had to give him instructions on how your owner used to do it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It smelled of overwhelming masculinity in the house. It was such a drastic change from the old lady perfume and flowers that your old home smelled like. It took you a bit to get adjusted to the lack of floral prints that your new home had. One day, you were especially homesick. Even though you were in your new, permanent, home, you still missed your old home. It was foggy out that day, the weather not helping your mood at all. You were curled up on the couch as you looked out the window with sad eyes, your fluffy tail flicking around as you were deep in thought. You hadn’t even noticed Soap and Ghost staring at you, they could smell the sadness radiating off of you. It was a slightly pungent smell compared to your usual scent that smelled of fresh flowers. It made Soap whine and quickly approach you. He curled up close to you, trying to soothe you, bring you out of your sad thoughts, with his warmth. It did help, it brought you out of your deep thoughts. But you still smelled of sadness. You would curl up against him, letting out a tiny sigh.

Then Ghost curled up next to you.

That was a first. He had always avoided you, per your request. But you didn’t mind this sudden act of affection. It was nice, you got a better chance to identify the keynotes of his scent. With Soap being around you so much, you had no choice but the memorize what he smelled like. Musk, timber wood, vanilla, and tiny hints of coconut. Part of that was because of the shampoo that Price would wash him in during bath nights. You had always kind of known what Price smelled like, what with him visiting your old owner every so often. Dirt, but not in a dirty way, an earthy way, smokey, toffee, and sandalwood. Cozy. You eventually came around and stopped being so mad at him for not telling you about his dog hybrids. Especially since you started to like them now. Kind of. Ghost, he always kind of smelled smokey. But not like Price. Price smelled smokey in a round way. Ghost smelled smokey in a sharper way. Kind of a difference between cigars and pungent cigarettes. But now that he was sitting so close to you, to wipe that sad look off your face, you could get a more clear reading of his scent. Smokey, yet bitter, musk, cedar wood, and lavender. That also must have been because of the shampoo. But they must have two separate shampoos that they picked individually. You had your own that Price had brought from your old home. It smelled of cherry blossoms.

Fast forward a few minutes, now Soap is teaching Ghost how you like your hair brushed with your favorite brush. And you’re crying and venting about how much you miss your owner and your old home.

This caused Soap to have a lightbulb moment.

A few days later, you’re napping in your cat bed when you suddenly start to wake up to a familiar scent. Rose petals, peonies, orchids, and lotuses. Flowers. You wondered if you had suddenly returned back to her old home. You open your eyes. Nope, you’re still at Price’s. But the scent is coming from a little candle, in an ivory candle holder (a favorite of your old owner), sitting on the dining room table. Price noticed you as he finished serving breakfast for you and the boys. He explained that he “found it at the shop and thought you would like it.” Actually, Soap had begged him to find a way to cheer you up because it hurt him so badly to see you cry like that! Ghost was standing by Soap, not moving a single bit. But Price could see in his eyes that he was silently agreeing. He didn’t want to admit it, but he cared for the little cat hybrid. So Price had gone out and looked for his mother’s favorite candle. He knew the one. Now, back to the present, you’re looking at the candle with wide eyes. You’re looking at Price, then the boys, then the candle, then Price again. You feel your eyes start to sting. Tears abruptly well up in your eyes. All of the men are now worried. Did they mess up? Did Price pick the wrong candle? But he was sure of it! Soap quickly got up and hugged you tightly, asking why you were crying. Ghost even got up and walked over to you, just as worried but he wouldn’t show it. You eventually explain to them through tears and hiccups, that you love all they’ve done to make this new place feel like your old home. It makes you so happy that they want to see you happy and comfortable. They’re all relieved, Price gently wiping away your tears with a handkerchief his mother gifted to him when he first went into the military, petting your fluffy ears and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

These men all love you, they would do anything to not see you in pain. And you love them just as much, knowing that they would do anything to protect you. :3

───♡───────────── End

Again, if you have any constructive criticism, please comment below!

Thank you for reading :)

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #johnny mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #hybrid!au #hybrid!reader #this is my first post so please be nice to me #I'm so nervous to see how people react to this #please enjoy #task force 141 #tf 141 #john price #price x reader

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buryustogether · 1 year ago

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lilac - chapter 1

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: the father of one of your students is acting rather strangely - but when he smiles at you, you can’t help but forget your own name.

wc: 6k

warnings/tags: mentions of blood and violence, swearing, pining, stripping, strip club, sex workers, sexual fantasy, smut, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f! receiving), pet names, dom!miguel, single father!miguel, teacher!stripper!reader

author’s note: set in the universe where miguel replaces his father!variant with himself. ps - planning on turning this into a series/full fic.

New York

Earth - 9193

Since you could remember, the sky above the city, flecked with struggling stars and choking on itself over clouds of smog like cigarette smoke, had been deep purple. Some called it violet. Others named it plum. They were trying to make a prettier picture of an ugly reality, desperately ignoring the real world that held them captive. The purple held every soul in this city on a taut leash; each time someone was given a little slack, they wandered too far and discovered that, really, they hadn’t ever wanted to stray in the first place. Car bombings every week. Shootings. Back alley guttings. Innocence all but a foreign language to the citizens of New York.

You wished with every bit of you that one day you’d be able to escape and see the real color of the sky. Because deep down you knew, wanted to believe, wished and prayed… that it was not this shade of dark.

Your classroom was one of the only lit rooms here in Washington Elementary School, a beacon through dimly-lit hallways and the even dimmer streets outside your windows. A long, silent exhale managed to escape your lips as you continued to grade your third graders’ spelling tests, using a pink pen to correct their mistakes instead of a red one. You figured it was less harsh, more inviting to be open to learning from where they first failed. Your back was beginning to cramp from sitting in these damn little-kid chairs, your knees practically hugged to your chest due to how low to the floor you were. You would have been at your desk - hell, you would have been home getting ready for your second job right about now - had it not been for the young girl sitting across the table from you.

Gabriella O’Hara was, in your opinion, one of the most intelligent children you’d had the pleasure of teaching. She was quick and clever and friendly, not to mention, captain of her little soccer team funded by the taxes of PTA parents and the grumbling millionaires of the city. She was a frequent flier on your good-behavior list, and her name had made a home for itself on the principal’s honor roll long before she’d landed in your class.

She was a sweetheart, to say the least. She had been raised well by her father - who, uncharacteristically, had been a no show when it came time for pick up two hours ago.

Glancing up from your papers, you smiled gently at Gabriella as she scribbled along her homework page. “Briella, honey,” you said and leaned your chin in your hand. “Why don’t you check to see if your dad texted at all.”

Obediently, Gabriella dug her phone - a little flip-type, despite there being hundreds of smartphones out these days - and clicked the button to scroll through her recent texts. You watched as her face fell, thick brows and full lips pulling downward. “Nothing,” she said and placed her phone back. She looked to you, and it was obvious from the way she squirmed in her seat that her nervous stomach was starting to get the better of her. “I’m kind of scared, Miss Y/N. My daddy’s never late.”

Setting down your pink pen, you reached across the table and placed a hand on her small forearm. You’d stayed late before when parents were late for pick up, or they forgot, or they were too stoned out of their minds to bother, but you had to admit, you were rather worried, as well. Her father had never been late once, not even by five minutes. So two hours was, really, something to bat an eye at. “I’m sure everything’s fine,” you assured her and offered a gentle smile. “He probably just got held up at work. Maybe his phone died.” Your gaze flickered briefly to the windows behind her, strung across with colorful drawings and decorations, as a number of wailing police cars zipped past. When she started to follow your eyes, you added quickly, “I bet he’s on his way right now. Why don’t you finish up your homework so you can have the rest of the evening free when you get home.”

As she went back to her work, you found yourself tapping your fingernail against the table, your gaze stuck to an empty corner across the room. Miguel O’Hara was nothing but punctual, not just to everyday events like after-school pick up, but to every single thing he did. Soccer practice and games. Parent-teacher conferences. Hell, you wouldn’t put it past him to be an hour early to that fancy job of his at Alchemax every Monday through Friday. He was a perfectionist, signing every grade card check and permission slip with the neatest signature you’d ever seen. And it was a feat to marvel at, considering he was a single father.

Once, at a soccer practice, you’d heard from a few of the mothers who had nothing better to do than gossip that he’d moved himself and Gabriella over from Queens years ago when he was hired as a geneticist. Her mother had apparently left them when she was born, and he’d done everything from that moment on for the good of his little girl.

You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself he was, by far, the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. Cheekbones placed high on his face, wide, broad shoulders, a sinewy frame that nearly challenged the doorframes he walked through. He was friendly, sure. But that was all you knew. You’d never been able to get close enough to know much else. An enigma to your curious mind, Miguel was nothing short of a puzzle that you desperately wanted to put together and see the bigger picture for yourself.

Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to wind back into the present. God, you needed to get a fucking grip. Crushing on the father of one of your students? Fucking pathetic. You had a boyfriend, for God’s sake.

You had just begun to grade your papers again, nearing the end of your stack, when there came the sounds of footsteps pounding against the tile floor of the hallway outside. They were jogging, approaching your room at an alarming rate. You stood, thinking it was the janitor having locked himself out of his closet again, and prepared to fetch your keys when a much different - yet no less welcome - figure filled the doorway.

“Hi, daddy,” said Gabriella as Miguel O’Hara entered your classroom.

You looked up, lips parted as you took him in. God, he was stunning. Somewhere around six feet with dark, somewhat-tamed hair that matched his tan skin and the thick brows sitting above his sloped eyes, he stood with a chest that rose and caved rapidly, like he’d run through the entire school searching for your room. Which he shouldn’t have - he knew the classroom his own daughter was in. Didn’t he?

“Oh, baby,” Miguel said and rounded the table so quickly you could have blinked and missed it. He hauled her up into his arms like she was nothing but a sack of flour and hugged her tight to his chest, almost like he was trying to mold the feeling of her to himself. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time. I’m so sorry.” As if just realizing you were in the room, watching the pair with a small smile, he set his daughter back down and pulled her backpack from the back of her chair. “Pack up your things, okay? We’ll go home in just a minute.”

He approached you where you stood beside your desk loading your purse, and you swore your heart skipped a beat as he towered over you. Thick, corded muscles and a frame that made your stomach churn excitedly, he was the perfect picture of a fucking masterpiece. “Hi,” he said in a low tone, meant for you to hear and not Gabriella. “I’m so sorry for keeping you here. Time got away from me, and when I got here, the front doors were locked.” He took a breath. “Thank you. For watching her, I mean.”

Forcing your heart to calm its thundering in the confines of your chest, you grinned up at him brightly. “It’s not a problem, Mister O’Hara. I was happy to.” You decided to say nothing about the fact that it was unlike him to lose track of time. He wore a watch that you recognized as one of the latest, expensive versions that were magnetic, not electric, so it was incapable of stopping. How exactly did time get away from a man who revolved around it? “I’m sure she’s going to crash when you get home, anyway. She had a big day.”

Miguel blinked a few times and placed a hand on his hip, jutting it out slightly. Fuck, you wished he wouldn’t do that. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm. We had a soccer scrimmage against one of the other classes today and she pulled the winning goal. Then there was the assembly over fire safety, but I’m sure you saw that in the handout last week.”

His lips remained parted for a long moment as his dark, umber gaze traveled across the stack of next week’s announcement handouts. “Right,” he said after a moment or two. “Right. Do, uh… do you think I could have another one of those? For this week. And maybe next week’s, too. Has that been sent home already?”

Giving him a rather crooked smile, you opened a drawer in your desk and produced the light green paper with last week’s announcements. Then you stacked it beneath next week’s and extended it toward his hulking frame. “Sorry if this seems a little… personal, Mister O’Hara,” you said as he took the papers, “but are you feeling alright? I really don’t mean any offense, but you seem a little… off.”

Tilting his head slightly, Miguel seemed to hesitate, fumbling with his answer in his head. He was frozen for a brief moment before your attentions were drawn across the classroom, where Gabriella zipped up her backpack and began to trudge toward the door. “I’m alright,” he said as he turned back to you. “I just, uh… I hit my head this morning. Been a little out of sorts, but I’ll be alright.”

“Daddy,” whined Gabriella under her breath. “I’m tired.”

“Okay, princesa,” he said and met her at your door. After slinging her backpack over his own shoulder and taking her hand, he glanced back at you. “Thank you again…” You watched as his eyes flickered to your name written across the whiteboard. “...Miss Y/N.”

“You’re welcome, Mister O’Hara.” A few more words sat on your tongue, desperately trying to fight against your lips and jump out before the moment escaped. You tried to fight them down, but eventually they won the battle and spilled forth. “And - and you can just call me Y/N.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, and you thought briefly that you had crossed a line you had been unable to see. Then he smiled gently, his full lips spreading into a gentle grin. He opened his mouth to say something in return before Gabriella pulled him out the door and into the hallway. You listened as their voices and the sounds of their footsteps grew quieter before silencing, then turned away and finished gathering your things.

On your way out of the building, while slipping through the front doors, you noticed the steel bolt lock keeping them shut after dark had been snapped entirely in two - as if someone had pulled on the door hard enough to break the lock on their own.

You figured it to have been a couple students who got their hands on their parents�� bolt cutters and made a mental note to ask the janitor for a replacement.

Once you got to your car and flipped the engine, you took a breath and glanced at yourself in the mirror. In that breath, you willed yourself to switch into the alternate persona you took on after the school days, after the sun had set and the night really came alive from its demented, hungover state during the lightest hours. You pushed your students into the back of your mind, your plans for tomorrow and upcoming projects and due dates into the recesses of your brain. You shoved back thoughts of Miguel O’Hara and everything about how much you wanted to fucking reverse time so that he could smile at you like he had tonight all over again.

It was time to really work, now.

The Menagerie was a club on the northeast side of the Financial District, where the warehouse fires and muggings weren’t quite as common. Police forces cruised through here more often than, say, Harlem or Queens; the people who ran the city had to keep their most well-paid workers protected and thriving, right? Who else would steal from the hands of the poor and throw it all away the first chance they got?

Thrumming, thundering music like a pulse, like the club itself was alive with the blood of money and alcohol pumping through it, pounded from speakers and shook the walls in their very foundations. Neon lights like jilted, water-colored sunlight shone from corners along the ceilings, creating shadows like both nightmares and dreams along the walls and the faces of the patrons. The bar was overflowing. Security was chasing their own tails. The place was packed. Everyone who was anyone wanted to get into The Menagerie, because between its four walls and roof, you could be anyone you wanted to be.

It was law in this gilded cage that everyone was to wear a mask, its paint and diamonds and ribbons designed to depict animals. Security wore the full-bodied faces of lions. Bartenders and servers played dress-up with rimmed eye gaps as raccoons. Guests were allowed to pick a mask ranging from creatures that roamed the sky to those that crawled the earth. And the girls - the girls were exotic, majestic things that no one would mistake for anything else. They were tigresses and peacocks, they were arctic foxes and lynxes, any animal that had long since gone missing or extinct in this world of yours. Why go searching for the real thing, when they could come here and find the women?

The Menagerie was not a club. It was a cage, for animals so desperate to get out they had bent the bars in an attempt to escape.

Staring at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room, you gingerly affixed the golden mask to your face so that it would stay spread across your features while you danced and entertained. The hard, fake porcelain covered your forehead and nose, leaving your mouth free for the lips and tongues that would attempt to claim yours as their own. Orange and gold butterfly wings blossomed from the center of the mask, disguising you as the endangered insect everyone else seemed to have forgotten about; the Monarch. Fluttering and beautiful upon the wind, never easy to catch.

That was, unless they flew right into a spider’s web.

To your left, a few of the other girls were perfecting their makeup and adjusting their outfits - what little outfits you all had. Zara, known throughout the club as the Panther, caught your eye in the mirror and flashed you a sharp smile.

“You seem quiet tonight,” she said and ran a stick of gloss over her lips. She examined herself close in her handheld. “Something on your mind?”

A few of the other girls tried to inconspicuously listen in, able to sniff out gossip from miles away. Perhaps in here, you all were a little bit more animal than human, after all.

Forcing yourself to smile gently, you waved a ring-garnished hand in Zara’s direction and turned back to your reflection. You hardly recognized yourself like this, despite seeing this version of you all week long. You hoped you never did recognize it. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed off.

Across the dressing room, Shawna, the Owl, tisked her tongue and hummed from deep in her throat. “You know you’re an awful liar, girl,” she said from where she sat scrolling through her phone. “We all noticed when you came in an hour later than you do. Something happen tonight?”

Well, fuck. Now everyone was waiting for your answer, waiting to see if it was worth listening into or not.

Pursing your lips in an attempt to show that it was no big deal, despite how much your stomach and your heart and your brain screamed that it wasn’t, you shrugged a shoulder and tried to avoid their gazes. “Nothing too big,” you replied and began to absentmindedly twist the ribbon keeping your mask in place. “Just… had a student stay a little later. Her dad lost track of time.”

“It couldn’t be that Alchemax hunk you’ve been telling us about.”

Fuck - you really learned to keep your cards closer to your chest.

Your silence must have been enough for them to connect the pieces, because a few of them tittered and giggled. A newer girl, who was still earning her way up to being on stage, piped up. “Have you ever talked to him?” she asked. “I mean, besides school-related stuff. Find out if he’s attached?”

“Absolutely not,” you forced out and stood to straighten out your costume. Your breasts were barely covered by the flimsy top and your ass hung out of the bottoms, both orange and black and white, like a monarch butterfly’s designs. Gold fishnet stockings lined your legs, leading down to a set of heels that had taken weeks to not tip over in. You were supposed to wear a cape, a gown-like train, but it was stepped on too much for you to bother with it. “He’s not there to cruise teachers, he’s just trying to help his kid through the third grade.”

“More than you could’ve asked from my dad,” Zara puffed.

God, you thought, yours, too. And your mother, while you were at it. They’d never come to meetings and games and plays like Miguel did. Hell, they hardly ever even remembered to pick you up from school on their good days.

Gabriella really had hit the father lottery.

Shawna shrugged her shoulders as she rose from her seat and picked up her own mask. “Even if that’s all he’s there for,” she said, then pulled the owl-designed porcelain over her face and fixed you with a stare through the eye holes, “doesn’t have to hold you back from at least trying.”

Her words rang in your ears as you carried on with your work that evening. They stuck with you as you danced for drooling men and women who oggled at you from behind their masks, as you ran your fingers down arms to chase bigger tips, as you followed a man who paid top dollar for a private dance.

Her words rattled like bells in your head as you mindlessly ground yourself against your customer, allowing yourself to get lost in your own imagination while you willed yourself to work. You shut your eyes behind your mask and let yourself fall into a dangerous little scenario you cooked up just for yourself.

You imagined not your boyfriend, who was out there in the city somewhere playing with his stupid fucking band to a crowd of three, not of any celebrity crush or model, but of Miguel O’Hara. You imagined him beneath you instead of some man whose breath smelled like expensive alcohol. You thought of him, and his hulking frame, and his powerful thighs you had found yourself staring at anytime he entered your line of sight.

Mind running away with this little fantasy of yours, you ground yourself a little harder against the lap beneath you, pushed your chest further against the chest parallel to yours. In your head, Miguel let out a huffy breath and rested those large hands of his on your hips, slowly but surely guiding your movements until you were riding his thigh. You tried to imagine, so intensely and desperately, how such an event would go.

He would gently, but firmly, help move your hips so that your exposed clit rubbed perfectly against the rough fabric of his jeans. You would keen and arch your back into him, hands running over his sinewy shoulders, as he hitched his leg and sent a powerful jolt of pleasure running through you and right to your core.

“You like that, pretty girl?” he would murmur in your ear, lips brushing along the shell before his tongue, warm and soft and pink and wet, licked against your lobe. “Ride, querida. ‘Til I say you’re done, and then I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”

You would grind your hips against his leg, moaning aloud and unabashedly when he tensed his corded muscle so that you’d have something to hump into. His hands, wide and spread, would wander along your bare back, memorizing the skin there like it was his and his alone, and he would dip his head to attach his lips to your nipple. He’d suck the nub into a hardened bud, then kiss and lick and nibble the skin around it until it was marred with love marks that would darken the following morning, and then he’d switch and give the other one the same kind of attention.

“Miguel,” you’d whimper in a certain kind of tone, and suddenly you’d be on the bed, pulled to the edge so that the globes of your ass hung off and when he kneeled he had access to your cunt bared for him.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he would say as he pressed open-mouthed kisses up and up your inner thighs, getting closer to where you needed him most. “All for me and me alone. Isn’t that right, bebe?”

You wouldn’t be able to give him a clear answer at first, not when he would lick a long, wet stripe up the center of your folds and up to your clit. He would expertly find that little bundle of nerves, wrapping his lips around it and fondling with his tongue until you couldn’t do anything but sigh and moan and card your fingers through his dark hair to pull him closer. He would suck on your sweet spot for a while, alternating between licking stripes and adorning it with kisses, before he would slowly drag his long, thick fingers toward your sopping folds.

But he would stop just short.

“Say it,” he would tell you, dark, impenetrable gaze fixated on you from where he kneeled between your legs like a devout believer praying to his one and only love - his goddess. When you would whine and cry from the pausing of his ministrations, he would take his mouth, his wonderful, hot breath, away from your aching cunt. He would cock his head, allowing a bit of hair to fall across his face. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, chica.”

“Miguel,” you would say again, because, really, that was all you could think of to say. “Miguel, please… need you, please…”

He would pull his fingers from your heat, gaze stony and immovable as a mountain standing tall in the midst of a storm. God, not even that could sway him. “Tell me,” he would demand again, this time in a low baritone that made your cunt clench around nothing because goddammit, even his fucking voice could send you into heat like a damn dog. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to. Now.”

“You,” would come the small, high-pitched answer, tumbling from your lips without another thought that did not involve him. “You, Miguel. Belongs to you. All for you, no one else.” You would babble, desperate to reach your climax before he let you fall back down that incline so, so cruelly, yet so, so deliciously. “Please, Miguel, need you. Need your fingers, anything. Just fuck me, please, handsome, fuck me ‘til I can’t remember my own name.”

He would tilt his head even further, like a predator toying with the prey he’d been chasing after for miles upon miles, before placing a gentle, feather-light kiss upon the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl,” he would say, then attack your clit with his full, thick lips, plunge two of his fingers into your heat, and begin to fuck you into oblivion.

The sound of his fingers constantly edging in and out of your dripping pussy, so wet you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and your ass, would pull the most wonderful and pornographic-sounding moans and whimpers and whines of his name from your throat. Your own slick would coat his digits like honey, so sweet that for a moment he would stop his assault on your divine bundle of nerves and crane his neck to lick up a bit of it from where it dripped down your ass. The flat of his muscle would raise goosebumps along your skin as you cried out for him, one hand gripping his hair and the other buried into the sheets of the bed.

“Miguel,” you would cry and begin to rock your hips to meet the thrusts of his fingers, practically humping his face. He would take it like it was his last meal, returning to his sucking and licking and circling of your clit to send bolt after bolt of pleasure and heaven and everything else in between. “Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“That’s it,” he would murmur between licks through your soaked folds, feeling as your slick dripped down his wrist. “Say my name, bebe, tell them who’s making you feel this fucking good.”

He would angle his fingers then at just the right angle, his fingertips hitting that perfect, fucking perfect spot deep inside you. Stars would dance in your vision as your mouth would open in a silent scream, unable to get anything out but a tiny wail of heavenly pleasure. You would swear you’d never felt this goddamn good in your life, like you would gladly trade everything in the whole world just to stay here forever. His pace would pick up, aiming for that spot inside of you, and he’d lap at your cunt in a feverish craze, like it was the only thing that would save him from losing his mind.

All too soon, your thighs would begin to tremble and you would feel that beautiful, familiar coil tightening and winding deep within your soul. “Miguel,” you would cry out for the whole world to hear. “Miguel, m’close, I’m so close!”

“Come on, pretty bebe,” he would say between your thighs that would try to wrap around his head in a feeble attempt to pull him closer. “Cum f’me. I want it. All of it.”

His words would send a shockwave of pleasure through you, one that would white out your vision so intensely you would have thought he’d killed you and sent you on your way to the pearly white gates, and you’d have been okay with that. He continued to work you through your orgasm, his pace slowing but never stopping, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses along your thighs, your hips, your naval.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Taking it so well, all for me. Look so pretty all laid out like this, like I could just eat you up. Would you like that, hmm? You want me to just devour you ‘til you’re left shaking and crying my name?”

“Miguel. Miguel, Miguel, Miguel…!”

“...My name’s not Miguel.”

Your eyes flashed open, suddenly brought back to the real world, pulled away from your fantasy. Through the holes in your monarch mask, you looked down to find your customer staring up at you with wide eyes and popping a boner put there by your mindless rocking against his hips. Feeling your cheeks flush, you slipped off of him and consciously tugged your outfit lower over your ass.

You pursed your lips, attempting to hide how mortified you were. “...That’s going to be another twenty bucks.”

It wasn’t until around one in the morning when you got home to your little apartment squished in a dilapidated little building wedged between two office towers because the landlord had refused to sell the place when they steamrolled the others ten years ago. The lights were off when you slipped inside, and a little piece of yourself inside wilted.

At once, you threw up a wall and dismissed that sinking feeling. Of course he wasn’t going to wait up for you. He’d had a show tonight, and he had another one tomorrow. He was tired.

Not nearly as fucking tired as you, though.

After wiping off your makeup and pulling off the fake little diamonds stuck on your temples, after changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth, and after pinning a new drawing from one of your students on the fridge despite the fact you knew they’d never see it, you tiptoed back to the cramped little bedroom. You poked your head inside. Ferris, your boyfriend of six months, was spread out across the entire mattress, snoring gently into the fabric of the crumpled sheets.

You swallowed thick. You didn’t want to disturb him. He needed his rest.

You grabbed your phone charger from the wall and your pillow from beneath his arm, then slid on your socks back into the tiny living room. Plopping yourself down on the couch and plugging in your phone, you rolled yourself onto your side and stared at the dark screen. Willing something to happen. Something to come up, someone to reach out.

Because in reality, though you would rather throw yourself off the Brooklyn Bridge than admit it… you had never felt so alone.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #sony spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv miguel

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pearlywritings · 1 year ago

Text

In father's embrace

synopsis: Genshin men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.

pairings: Ayato, Thoma, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Tighnari x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, mentions of pregnancy

word count: 7.2k words

a/n: I really wanted to write Diluc and Kaeya, but realized that I can't create something new since I already have a family AU with them. Here's the materlist's link if you are interested! Also you can find the HSR version of this here!

Ayato

This man is a dad of twins - a boy and a girl. Both babies took more in their mom’s appearance, but have his soft violet eyes and honestly? This man adores you, his wife, so when he sees your kids develop more and more of your features as they grow - his heart can’t be fuller.

He is a fun and patient dad - he will teach them anything they ask him to, and offer guidance, yet still leaving space for them to learn some on their own. He also enjoys when they sneak into his study during his working hours (because mom decided to take a nap, and Thoma went out grocery shopping, and they are so-so boooooored), letting them wander around the room for the nth time, touching all the trophies and scrolls he has there (all the things that could be of danger were long removed), and when they eventually feel sleepy, crawl closer to him to nap, resting their heads on his thighs while he stays in his kneeling position, writing.

Even if they look a lot like you, it’s so easy to tell that they are his kids - the mischief babbling in their little bodies is untamable for the longest time, and Ayato loves it. Sure, sometimes it is a headache, and mostly for you, but at least they didn’t develop strange tastes in food like their father. More than once they used their similar looks to play pranks on the staff members or their parents, dressing in each other’s clothes and going about their day like that. What does their father think of it? Two words - “promising” and “entertaining”.

They are also their aunt’s absolute delight. Ayaka adores them, showering the two with gifts and attention. And even though she and Ayato are not twins like her niece and nephew - she still feels warmly nostalgic whenever she witnesses their interactions.

Best aunt - thanks to her Vision the twins experienced the joy of ice skating, lessons of etiquette became more fun (though still effective), more days off were granted to her brother to spend time with his family (she practically started stealing his paperwork at some point to fulfill it on her own). She and Thoma are making your life so much easier and for the first time Ayato truly feels at peace and like he is living his life at its fullest. The quiet rooms of the Kamisato Estate are finally filled with joyous laughter and summer warm happiness - his kids are bringing back the light to the gloomily strict atmosphere of the family house.

But sometimes the two only add the workload to his plate in the most wild ways possible.

Ayato closely observes one of his kids - presumably the son - as both the parent and the child are sitting in the room dedicated to the twins’ studying. They have the best tutors Inazuma could provide and both showed exceptional results in all their classes. Even if one of them failed an examination on the first try - the second one was always a success. That was until you walked in on your daughter rewriting her history test, only to discover your son in her place, with his sister’s clothes and blue locks tied in her manner. And that’s when the truth came to light.

Honestly it was no surprise their teachers never suspected anything - only four people could tell the twins apart easily - you, Ayato, Ayaka and Thoma, though the latter had trouble with that occasionally, and your children made sure to speak as similar as possible once the idea of replacing each other appeared. Of which you also learned that day Ayato and you sat them down and urged to tell you everything. The scolding about cheating from you and a lecture from Ayato on the topic of how important it is to do as good as you can on your own were provided, but in the end you just hugged them and said that you do not expect them to be perfect in everything, which left the kids relieved.

But from then on Ayato has been in charge of supervising the twins during their exam retakes. Just like today.

“Public diplomacy, national security, diplomatic etiquette, hm…” the head of the Kamisato clan skips across the paper with questions the tutor gave him beforehand on the latest topic of international relationships. He notices how his child doesn’t fidget and doesn’t even let the eyes run across the room - the straight posture and neutral expression etched on a thirteen-year old’s face is admirable. But he does note the uncharacteristic stiffness. Along with another major thing.

“Princess, where is your brother?”

Eyes widen slightly, but that’s enough to prove that he is correct. He watches his daughter hesitate for a moment, though there is no doubt in his mind that neither of his children would ever lie to him or their mother. And the defeated sigh shows as much.

“Sorry, father,” the girl lowers her gaze in apology. Fishing a hairpin from behind her brother’s kimono lapel, she makes quick work of collecting her hair. Then she looks into his eyes again.

“He is in my room, pretending to be me and probably stressing. Before you ask why we decided to switch - he begged me to.” “Oh?” Ayato puts the papers to the side and rests his chin on an open palm. “Could you please elaborate?” “Remember how we went to the Kujo residence for a playdate?” Her father hums, already getting a vague understanding of what’s going on. “And when we accidentally overheard how the oldest son was being scolded by his father for not doing enough in his studies. And brother got it into his head that if he keeps failing not once but more times, you are going to be disappointed in him. I know he studied for this retake, I helped him with that, but at the last moment he got anxious, and, well, here I am. Like all those years ago.”

“I see,” the man in front of her nods, and she doesn’t see any negative emotion painted on his face. Quite the contrary, he smiles.

“Be a dear, go get your brother and come back together. Change the clothes though. Oh, and tell him I am not mad, okay?” “Okay, father,” she mirrors his smile and relief flashes in her eyes - the girl truly cares for her twin, and that warms Ayato’s heart.

When half an hour later both arrive there is already a table served with tea and sweets, and the head of the Kamisato family immediately invites them to take their seats. His daughter looks calm, which can’t be said about his son - the boy has the most miserable look on his face, holding onto his sister’s hand and staring at the surface of the tea in his cup. Ayato decides to speak first.

“Kujo family is the last people one should take as an example,” his firm, yet reassuring tone makes his son glance at him. “Sure, they are respected, but their methods are too old-fashioned, and the way they treat their children is no good. Do you understand, little blossoms?”

They nod and even if Ayato doesn’t see it, he knows they squeeze each other’s hand.

“You better do, because neither me nor your mother will ever push you to the point of devastation. In studies as well,” the boy bites his lip. “I am serious. I will not be disappointed in either of you if you have to retake one test again and again. Striking for perfection is a good goal, but not when you torture yourself physically and emotionally to achieve it.”

“But father…” his son lifts his eyes and stares right into Ayato’s and it shoots right through his chest how vulnerable the kid looks. “You are perfect. And I don’t want to let you down…” “Me? Perfect? Oh, dear,” the man can’t hold a light laugh back. “Ask your mother and she’ll prove you so wrong, trust me. And none of you is letting me down - you should be proud of yourselves. At such young age you both show bright talents and knowledge - and it’s okay if it’s not the case for every possible field of studies. This is general education, later you’ll get more practice to catch up, or concentrate on your strongest abilities. Listen,” he addresses his son specifically, and the boy cocks his head to the side a little, “be more confident and trust your sister if she insists you are doing well. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and come to me if you feel unsure, alright?”

The boy glances down, letting the words sink in, and Ayato patiently waits. In his mind he admits that it's his oversight - he should've noticed earlier that one of his kids has been struggling. Now he will make sure to change that.

Eventually his son deeply sighs and looks at the adult in front of him with trust reflecting in those pretty eyes.

“Alright,” he nods with a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. Slowly standing up and letting go of his twin’s hand, he rounds the table and steps right into Ayato’s outstretched arms, wrapping his own around the man’s neck.

“Thank you, father,” he whispers right before burying his face into haori-clad shoulder. “I love you so much.”

And the man smiles, whispering those words back and soothingly patting his back, as the daughter shows him thumbs up with the tenderest look in her eyes.

Thoma

This man is such a sweet dad - nearly cried, when your first child, a girl, was delivered. Same was when a couple years later the son was born too.

Juggling his work and caring for his kids was never an issue for him. A big part of it was played by the Kamisato couple, who allowed him to bring first his daughter and then his son to work, when each of them was old enough. Which, most likely, was what prompted the Kamisatos to have their own kids - one day years ago you and Thoma wanted to have a date night - one you haven't had in a while - and Ayato's wife offered to watch your little baby girl. Does it need to be mentioned she wanted her own kids after that?

Thoma's kids are taught to be polite and respectful, but not overly reserved and quiet, no - in your own house the man would literally let them destroy the kitchen in attempts to bake something as an experiment and then turn cleaning it up into a fun game of three, or four, if you decide to join.

He is that kind of dad, who constantly falls asleep with both kids nestled on his chest and his arms wrapped around them, with a book of tales either lying on his stomach or abandoned on the floor. You literally mastered your technique of waking him up without stirring the kids, so you could bring the two to their rooms.

Your kids love walks, whether it’s in the city or admiring the scenery near the Kamisato Estate. When it’s in the city though, the four of you attract attention without a fail. Especially elders, who coo at the image of Thoma holding his daughter’s hand and you cradling your little boy to your chest. You are literally showered in little gifts and are offered many discounts, because everyone adores and respects your family. At some point for a short period of time a rumor was running around Inazuma City, that if you get to see all four members of the Kamisato retainer’s family, luck is going to follow you through the day. Thoma had to ensure it came to an end, wanting to keep you three safe and not being followed around in your leisure time.

To summarize it’s needless to say that this man is a natural when it comes to being a father. He already aced being a great husband, you never had any doubt that the same would be true about becoming a dad. And it brings you so much joy that your kids are aware of it.

Making your husband's lunch is an essential part of your morning routine. Sure, the Kamisato Estate provides its workers with meals and breaks, but knowing how much Thoma loves your home-cooked meals, you'll never refuse him this pleasure.

On days like today you pack two more lunches, for your kids - yesterday they expressed their desire to go and help their dad. But you are more than aware of the plan they've had in their mind for the longest time. That's why you turn a blind eye and chop fruits particularly loudly, when you ten- and four-year olds sneak into the kitchen and hide something in the wrapper of an already packed lunch.

And when they were leaving and every member of your family gave you kisses, you couldn’t help but notice the decreased stack of small papers you have in the hall to make notes.

Maybe next time, you’ll ask your kids to join.

Thoma bringing his kids to work is always a pleasant surprise to the Estate’s staff. Even the guards by the gates can’t keep their composure, when the girl cheerfully greets them, wishing a good day, and the boy softly chirps a little “hi” and shyly waves his hand at them. Next person they always meet is Furuta - and the old lady adores their greeting ritual and is the one who looks after the fellow housekeeper’s kids when they help or play outside. But if usually the woman just makes small compliments to the children and chides Thoma for not bringing them over more, today his daughter breaks the routine - she suddenly lets go of his hand and quickly runs to her father’s colleague and asks her to speak in the corner. A bit stunned, the blonde watches the two move farther and start quietly talking. The boy in his arms curiously watches them and then, as if realizing something claps his hands.

“What is it, cookie?” But the only answer he receives is merry giggling.

The next strange thing happens, when the three of them arrive in his room - kids, looking as suspicious as possible, start making excuses to go and play first, though they usually insist on following him around unless they get bored, and as they disappear behind the door with his daughter’s bag - Master Ayato requests his visit.

Getting out of his office only an hour later, Thoma has to rush to his duties, realizing that he’ll have to speed up if he wants to finish everything the blue-haired man has just told him to do. He even handed him a list with tasks, which never happened. What’s going on?

Not finding the children in his room, he decides to start without them, assuming they'll join him later. Okay, what’s the first thing on the list… Check all the chairs. Alright…

Luckily this piece of furniture isn’t numerous in the residence, giving the culture of Inazuma, and Thoma knows perfectly every single room where he can find them. What he wasn’t expecting to find is the folded papers on the seats of some of those. Upon unfolding each revealed a single letter. Strange… Well, at least the chairs themselves are in the required condition.

Tucking the papers in his pocket and fishing the list out of the other one, the man checks his next destination. Check all the bushes around the main building. Blinking, he looks again. No, the handwriting is definitely his master’s, but the contents? In his style, but why so sudden?

Following every single point, Thoma manages to find in total 13 papers with letters on it, before the list stops being weird and advises the housekeeper to dedicate the time before lunch to his common responsibilities. Which he, with an exhale of relief, proceeds to fulfill.

When the time for lunch rolls around, kids, as if magically, reappear at his side and innocently smile at him, asking how he spent his time. He promises to tell them over lunch.

Lunch, that brings him four more pieces of paper. And suddenly, both kids are not that interested in food.

“Make a phrase, make a phrase!” His daughter chants, holding her brother in her lap, and the little boy claps his hands, chanting ‘make! make!’. Already realizing that all of this was their meticulously crafted plan (to participate in which they managed to convince quite a few people), Thoma doesn’t oppose, putting all the papers on the table in front of him.

S V E E T S I R H E Y B T

And A P A P which he got from his lunch.

“The” is guessed immediately. “Is” as well. When he reaches for the “A P A P” to add it to the pile, the girl suddenly lunges forward, putting her hand on top of it and shaking her head. Alright, not yet.

S V E E T R Y B is left. Okay, maybe “very” and… “best”!

Moving the pieces around in utter concentration, the man puts the words in the right order. And only then the ten-year old lifts her hand. With a baited breath he moves the four remaining pieces a little more and his heart skips a beat, and the summer-green eyes widen.

PAPA IS THE VERY BEST

“Surprise!” The girl beams with the widest smile, hugging her brother. “We wrote it together! See how some of the letters are clumsy? He did it!” She proudly looks at the boy, gently ruffling his hair. “Recently he was trying to learn how to write! You are the first one who sees it, even mom didn’t! And we chose this phrase, because- dad, are you crying?”

Warm silent tears are indeed running down his cheeks and the man nods, not trusting his voice. A whirlwind of emotions overtakes him, making it a little hard to formulate his thoughts, but he reacts immediately when his kids rush to him, opening his arms and catching them in a tight embrace. He'll tell them how touched he is, he'll praise them, he'll declare his love for them again and again. A tiny bit later. Now he just needs to hold them and hear that he, for real, "is the very best papa".

Alhaitham and Kaveh

Listen, just LISTEN - imagine these men’s pure shock when their wives surprise them over a double date at Kaveh’s house with their pregnancies. Like, AT THE SAME TIME. Kaveh is gaping at his woman, but Alhaitham is no better - a glass with wine frozen in air in the middle of his attempt to put it back on the table as his eyes are not blinking, glued to his spouse. The blonde would be the first one to break from his stupor and tightly hug his wife, kissing all over her face all laughter and little jumping in place, while his junior would finally put the glass down and beckon his woman onto his lap and bury his face in her neck with arms around her body, quietly thanking her for amazing news.

The kids are not even formed in the women’s stomachs, but they already have a story to share.

Alhaitham

Despite not giving the impression the man likes the idea of being a father to a child together with you, his beloved. Of course the pregnancy was planned, but even he couldn’t predict the possibility of you and his friend’s wife being pregnant at the same time. Though he does find it a little amusing and can’t lie to himself that watching you and your female friend discuss the nursery designs, the clothes, the gender, the two babies becoming akin to siblings warms his heart.

He always loved quiet evenings with you, but later, as your bump got more and more prominent, he finds himself craving your back pressed to his chest and his palms cradling your rounding stomach. He talks to his kid in there, reads them books and soothes, when they are restless and don’t let you sleep that well. And that’s how early on you understood who’s going to be the one putting your newborn to sleep, because your persuasions didn’t work that well.

And your husband doesn’t mind. He actually loves cradling his daughter - yes, it’s a little girl! - to his chest and lull her to sleep - it gives him an unimaginable sense of fulfillment.

As your little wonder grows older, Kaveh can’t help but comment how similar her scowl is to her father’s - combined with the annoyed sharp glare of the eyes she also got from him. But that’s only when she is being capricious. Most of the time she is calm and sporting your sweet smile, voice soft and eyes lacking the mentioned above sharpness.

By the way, she is older than Kaveh’s kid, which makes the Scribe just a little bit smug.

Alhaitham is all too happy to be the one educating her. He makes sure to balance her time spending with him and her time spending with you, encouraging her to engage in your hobbies and have a mother-daughter time. But the most he loves the time the three of you spend together - be it as simple as grocery shopping, having a meal together or cuddling in the evening, or going on whole little expeditions, because his girl wants to explore something on the topic she is currently interested in.

Oh, and he is so biased when it comes to her. There is only one non-scholar kid in all of Sumeru who has her own personal access to the House of Daena, research laboratories, research data and the Scribe’s office at any working hour - and that’s your daughter.

“Look, that’s the Scribe’s wife!”

Taken aback, you stop in your way when at least a dozen students surround you. Raising an eyebrow you survey their faces thoughtfully, noting that they seem to be quite desperate. But even before you can open your mouth they interrupt.

“Tell him to let us in! We have applications to submit!”

“And I have questions why mine was declined!”

“I need his signature on my thesis papers!”

“He locked himself inside with your daughter and said not to disturb their nap! Unbelievable-”

“And how exactly can I help?” You cut through the cacophony of their voices. Students look at you as if you’ve just grown a second head.

“...you are his wife? You can influence him.” “First of all, demanding something from a person you barely know is simply rude,” you narrow your eyes and a chill runs down some of the spines - for a moment you looked just like your husband. “Secondly, I am not involved in his work and I don’t plan to. Now, please, step aside.”

“You can’t be so cruel!”

“Oh, and you can? Let me guess, at least half of you missed deadlines, a small portion made mistakes again and the rest are not in an urgent need to see my husband, but decided to stick with others in hopes that getting to him right now will work?”

Leaving them stunned by your easy guess, you finally push your way through, holding a box with food you brought for lunch close to your chest. Once in front of the door you don’t even have the time to raise a fist for knocking, because the door unlocks and opens, revealing the tall man behind it.

Silently and quickly you step inside and the door shuts again, the key turns in the lock and then is thrown on the nearest table. The office meets you with welcomed tranquility, and dimmed lights are a nice contrast to the blindingly white walls of the Akademiya.

“So, you heard everything? They said you were napping,” you question his guess of when to open the door to let you in. Alhaitham rolls his eyes, glaring at the hindrance you left behind the door, and then takes the box from you.

“I was, but since I lent my earpieces I could hear the commotion in the corridor,” with his free hand he takes yours and leads you further into the room. There, on the sofa, you spot your daughter - wearing her dad’s device and napping, curled under his cape.

“Oh Dendro Archon, she is so adorable,” you coo in awe. “Look how big your things are on her!”

“She demanded I take a break and sit with her,” the Scribe hums, putting the food on the table and then locking both of his arms around you in an embrace. “But the more she was reading to me while sitting at my side, the sleepier she was getting, so we decided to nap.”

You listen to him, while observing your precious girl. She seems serene and content, holding onto the gold-embroidered piece of fabric, surely containing her father’s soothing scent. The earpieces are adjusted to hold onto her head and in silence you can even catch the faintest sounds of a melody. Ah, if only you had a Kamera with you…

“Let’s get her her own earpieces and cape.”

“The cape is unnecessary, but I did consider the device. I could make her her own, especially since she’s been complaining about having hard times to concentrate while she is at the Akademiya.” “But with the cape she’d be just like you!”

“Am I alone not enough for you already?” Light turquoise eyes are hard to read, but you manage to catch a shadow of amusement.

“But matching outfits are charming! Like, remember the last time we’ve been to Kaveh’s? The whole family had matching robes!”

“Then you’ll have to dress like me too.”

“If I am to get an intricate cape and a device to block the sounds of you huffing - I don’t mind.”

Alhaitham huffs. Then stops, realizing he’s just done what you were accusing him of, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Kidding, kidding. Let’s discuss it over lunch. Can you wake her while I am setting the table?”

Your husband nods and, receiving a quick peck to his cheek, releases you from his hold, stepping closer to the sofa.

As you busy yourself with the food, you occasionally glance at the two from the corner of your eye, absolutely swooning over how gently Alhaitham takes the earpieces off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, softly murmurs her name and coaxes her from sleep with the news that mommy came and brought delicious food with her. And when two sets of identical eyes look at you tenderly, a loving smile lights up your face.

Kaveh

Can you see this man sticking his finger in Alhaitham's direction and declaring that his kid is going to be senior to his friend's? Because I can. (Too bad he was wrong).

As well as I can see this man accidentally becoming supportive not only of you but the other man's family as well - and drawing the blueprints for both nurseries is probably only the beginning (but you were the only one whose every suggestion he took without arguing).

From day one his mind is set on being the best dad for your baby, just like he is the best husband to you. He reads books, seeks advice in Bimarstan, even writes letters to his mother in hopes she'll share her experience, that could help you. Though when it comes to shopping for your yet unborn baby, you have to physically restrain him from buying every single cute plushie or onesie he sees.

When your daughter is born though, it's getting harder, because your own desire to spoil this golden-haired angel is unmeasurable. Maybe it's because she looks so much like your husband and you are projecting your need to shower him in love and affection and give everything you possibly can, but by the end of the day you just simply love her very much.

Kaveh adores doing anything creative with his daughter. She wants a mosaic in a frame on her wall? They'll put it from the little tiles together and Kaveh would hold her in his arms so she could hang it. She wants a dollhouse? They'll spend the time drawing the draft and picking colors and materials for EVERYTHING. And then he'll be building it, while she crafts little furniture. And it doesn't matter if she did it too small or too big - papa will help her adjust it.

But even so, Kaveh doesn't expect his daughter to be some genius or follow in his steps. No, he knows he'll love her even if she stops sharing the creative approach with him. He knows better than anyone how crushing it is to have everyone's expectations to loom over you and predatory gazes watch tirelessly, anticipating the moment you fail. He gives a vow to himself, to you, to your girl, that he will be there no matter what.

Matching. Outfits. You own so many it's almost worrisome. But your daughter loves them. There were a couple occasions when she drew her own designs for the three of you and you had it tailored, which left her absolutely ecstatic.

On that note, you believe Kaveh's (tiny) fear that she'll lose interest in creativity is going to be short-lived - especially after your visit to Fontaine to let your daughter meet her granny, which the girl spent with wide open eyes and mouth, absorbing everything around her to use it later.

Also having your daughter earned you a heavy supporter in moments when Kaveh starts to overwork. He can't resist the charm of both of his girls and is easily swayed to the nearest sofa/bed to cuddle and share lots of kisses. All his life he has been the anchor for others - now he has two people to be that for him.

Kaveh is easily spooked by sudden noises, and your eleven-year old daughter knows that. That's why she makes sure to tap her feet loud enough to hear their approach through the door of his study. Balancing a small tray with a cup of tea and your special dessert in one hand, she lifts the other to gently knock on the door.

"Come in, baby!" Reaching higher she pulls the handle.

The floor littered with crumpled papers isn't a new sight to her, just as her father's hunched back over the properly lit table. But when the door closes, the architect immediately puts the pencil down and turns around, giving her a big smile.

"Hi, sweety," he is beaming, seeing her adorable face and a growing smile, complementing those precious twinkles in her eyes.

"Hi, papa!" She chirps like a little birdie - her actual nickname - and Kaveh nearly drops his head in his palms and cries. How can he be a father to someone so tender?

"Mama said you are working and made you something! I helped," she lifts the tray, showing him what she has. "We hope you will like it."

Oh, he definitely will, he doesn't doubt it. Carefully wrapping his fingers around the edges, the man takes his late afternoon snack and brings it closer to his face, inhaling the sweet smell of the desert and a soothing aroma of the tea.

"Thank you, little birdie," he puts the tray aside and bends lower to wrap his arms around her and smooch her cheek. "You and mama are the best."

"Hehe, we know," she giggles. "You are the best too."

"Awww," Kaveh can't help but nuzzle against her cheek, gaining another giggle and a cute scrunch of her nose.

"Daaaaaaaad!"

"Sorry, sorry, baby, you are just so adorable. Just like your mama."

"But mama says I am pretty like you."

"Both can work together," he assures her, but a soft blush covers his cheeks. No matter how many years have passed, he still gets shy whenever his wife uses "pretty" to describe him.

"Okay!" She simply agrees, giving him a big hug. "Sorry, but I should be going now. Mama wants to go grocery shopping and I want to help her."

Now that she says this, Kaveh pays closer attention to her outfit - the white sundress with pink roses is definitely not something she'll wear at home.

"Alright then, let me escort you downstairs."

Standing up, he easily hoists her in his arms and lets her perch on his left one, as her arms wrap around his neck.

When they reach the hall, the girl has managed to make two braids in his hair, now twisting them around each other. Kaveh finds both her and your obsession with touching his hair amusing, but sometimes it feels nice and relaxing. And you did put him to sleep by scratching his head on multiple occasions.

You, who are standing in front of the mirror, and even witnessing just your profile, the architect is in love all over again.

He should take you on a date later this week.

"Well, I definitely wouldn't mind that," you chuckle, turning to face him and offering your most teasing smile. Ah, he said the date part out loud, didn't he? "But right now I need to go and take care of our dinner's ingredients."

Your husband nods in understanding and puts your daughter down, dusting the skirt of her dress and making sure everything is intact. Getting a quick peck on the nose, he gives her one on the forehead and straightens up to immediately welcome you into his embrace and share a soft kiss.

“Be sure to take a break and enjoy the snack we made for you. And I mean it when I say taking a break. We all remember how you spilled your morning coffee over the blueprint and had to redraw everything again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

A wild shiver runs down Kaveh’s spine and he feverishly shakes his head. No, if there is one thing he is certain in it’s hating the repetition of this.

“You don’t have to remind me,” his heavy sigh ghosts over your skin. “And it won’t happen again.”

“I believe in you!” You cheer joyfully and it warms his heart.

“I believe in papa too!” Your daughter throws her fists in the air. “Papa can do anything!”

“Of course he can,” you gently nudge her back, ushering her to the front door. “See you soon, Kaveh. We love you.”

“I love you too.”

Waving at your leaving figures he waits until you shut the door and stick the key in the lock, before smiling to himself and returning to his study.

The tea got a little cold and the dessert’s top melted just a tiny bit, but both are still incredibly delicious. Leaning back in an armchair with a plate resting on his knee and a cup wrapped in his hands, the man feels happily at ease and two precious girls are the reason why.

Tighnari

Frankly, I don't think Tighnari has ever given much thought to becoming a dad, let alone settling down with someone. But taking care of Collei, becoming her mentor, stepping so close to becoming a parental figure, probably played its role as well.

Biggest part, of course, was you - another pretty fennec hybrid, who, due to the same biological background, could share a lot of things with him that the man couldn't and honestly didn't want to bother explaining to others, he sure has other things to fulfill.

It took years of courting from both sides, but eventually, you two settled down together, content with each other as a partner. When the talk of kids happened, the forest ranger was hesitant - he knows he can handle a kid, he can handle ten if required thanks to his immense patience and love for teaching, but since you were different from humans, the man was aware that you could be carrying more than three babies at one time. Even if your body is built to handle it by evolution, he still didn't want to make you go through with so much. Initially. However when you looked so hopeful to have a family with your beloved, swore it's going to be just one time and then you'll keep using protection like before, he was convinced and actually quite excited.

So much nuzzling during your pregnancy. So much nuzzling when the babies are born - three beautiful boys and one girl, with the prettiest fluffy tails and ears of yours or his fur. He immediately jumped to being a father, without any complaint taking care of your kids, while you were recovering. He adores them so much, but at times hardly manages to keep an eye on all four - good thing you moved into a bigger house that is closer to the ground, because little explorers did try to escape outside on multiple occasions.

What gets Tighnari's heart burst like fireworks though? Spotting you napping with all of your babies huddled in your embrace, body practically curled around them and a tail resting on top. The first time it happened - maybe a couple of weeks after you gave birth to them - Tighnari left you alone with the kids to do an examination on the work of forest rangers in his absence, and when he returned back - he nearly collapsed from how adorable the five of you looked. Definitely joined.

From their early age he taught his kids everything about the forest so they would be prepared, and, even he won't ever admit it, it stirred something in his chest when they looked up at him with wonder and fascination in their gleaming eyes. They were also taught to be independent, but at the same time to work as a team, and they are so good at that.

The circle of four is absolutely perfect. Little hands are swift and precise, and the absolute concentration is written on the seven-year olds adorable faces. You and Tighnari even stopped your own grooming of each other’s tails to observe your kids’ routine of doing the same thing, but among themselves.

With four pillows on the floor they once again made themselves comfortable, just like every evening, equipped with different kinds of brushes and safe oils.

You put your chin onto Tighnari's shoulder, still holding his tail in your lap, with yours resting under his palm, and make a soft sound, loud enough for him to recognize and not alert the kids. Your husband nods, purring in response and rubbing his cheek against your temple.

"They are so adorable, 'nari," you sigh, watching the four being so absorbed with their task that they don't even talk. The male couldn't agree more, lifting the corners of his mouth in a smile and then picking another brush to get busy with the tip of your tail.

"They absolutely got it from you, my dear. And did you notice how much progress they've made in the fur-caring routine?"

Tighnari doesn't see that, but you, still staring forward at your kids, clearly see how four pairs of ears prick up. How cute, someone wants the praise.

"That they did. And I don't know about you, but at the age of 7 I didn't even know that the fur has to be clean and taken care of anyhow. I guess, I never gave it much thought when my mom did it for me. Our little ones are so independent."

Four tails move a little, kids clearly delighted.

"You are right, they are," Tighnari hums, running his fingers through your now well-groomed fur, and your children hold their chins up proudly. "If only this independence didn't extend to trying to escape to the forest on their own against all of my warnings."

Inhumane eyes glare at the frozen bodies of the "explorers" in question, making them lower their gaze and pick up from where they stopped their routine. Oh, they know what they've done.

You can only sigh, fully understanding your husband's concerns, and finish tending to his tail.

Next is the balm you generously scoop onto your palm to rub into the rough texture of your fox-like pads. When you do the same for Tighnari, receiving a tender kiss to your nose, and then to each of your babies, as they walk to you one by one, still with guilty, pouty, but adorable faces, while your husband is putting away all the tools and products.

Soon your bed is occupied with all of your kids, snuggling to your sitting body and drowsily asking to sleep with you two tonight. Even the thought of making a dozen more steps to their own rooms is killing the last energy in them - the routine has an incredible side effect: they immediately become sleepy when they are done and you don't have much trouble with putting them to bed.

Especially when the bed is right here. The bed that became a large one not even a couple of months along their lives, because this has been a common occurrence.

"Mommy, daddy, can we sleep with you tonight, please?" Your daughter lifts her pleading eyes at you, being the one who managed to directly slide into your lap and into your embrace. Three boys, attached to your sides silently lift their eyes too, pouting in attempts to break your resolve. Which wasn't here in the first place.

"What'd you say, 'nari?" Chuckling, you look at your husband climbing onto the bed to join the five of you.

"Weren't we just discussing their independence? They can surely walk to their rooms. Come on, babies, back to your beds."

"Noooooooooo," their hold on you immediately becomes a death grip. "We want to stay with you!"

"Kids, I can't breathe-" you gasp from the crushing hug of at least two pairs of arms squeezing your middle.

"We want to stay, we want to stay, we want to stay!"

"That's what you should've told yourselves earlier this morning when you decided to get to the river with spinocrocodiles. That you want to stay. Home. Until I or your mother could go on a walk with you outside the village."

At his strict tone and at the reminder of them nearly losing their tails this morning to the sharp jaws of wild animals, four little foxes lower their eyes, ashamed. But they do relax their hold around you.

Tighnari sighs, rubbing his temples and contemplating when he's going to get his first gray hairs.

"Okay, I'll let you sleep with us tonight, BUT," he slightly raises his voice to emphasize, especially since the four immediately got in high spirits, "if something like this happens again - you are losing this privilege for a week. Are we clear?"

"Yes, daddy…"

"Yeah.."

"Mhm…"

"Sure, dad…"

And that's the only confirmation Tighnari needs before lifting the covers, because no matter how restless and disastrous your children can be - he has almost as hard a time as you do telling them "no".

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #ayato x fem!reader #thoma x reader #thoma x fem!reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem!reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x fem!reader #kamisato ayato #thoma #alhaitham #kaveh #tighnari #genshin impact fluff

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teamatsumu · 10 months ago

Text

“draw me like one of your french girls.”

(rafayel x reader)

word count: 1676

warnings: fem!reader, swearing, non-sexual nudity, slightly bittersweet ending, nothing explicit

It was an insane request. One that you never should have listened to.

Your first reaction was very organic. An incredulous look of ‘what the fuck’ that included a slacked open jaw and wide eyes. Rafayel was as blank faced as ever, like he had just announced that he wanted grilled vegetables for dinner, and not that he wanted you to pose naked for him to paint.

“No.”

Now he looked up, almost affronted. “No?”

“No!” You emphasized, cheeks burning hot in embarrassment. “I’m not posing naked for you!”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

You smacked his arm, making him draw back with a grumble. “When have you seen me naked?!”

“Not you! But other girls.”

“You pervert.”

“It’s not like that!” You saw his ears flame, a cute little pout tugging on his lips. “I’m an artist. I’ve done lots of nude paintings.”

You gave him a blank look. “That’s….. somehow worse.”

Rafayel let out a pained sigh, lifting his head up as if asking the gods for strength. Dramatic as ever. He leaned closer to you again, and his violet eyes pleaded with you.

“Please? I promise it won’t take long. You just inspire me and I want to utilize that.”

You hesitated once more, mulling the options over in your head. Was this the best thing for your relationship right now? You and Rafayel weren’t dating, but you definitely had feelings for each other. You knew he liked you, and there was this strange push and tug that came with liking someone as ambiguous as him. You liked how things were right now, the playful banter sprinkled in between tender moments. And you really liked him. You didn’t want to mess it up.

But here he was, eyes wide and pleading, shining indigo and dreamy purples, making the carefree ruffles of his hair look all the more dreamy. You felt your resolve crack.

“Okay..” You sighed reluctantly, feeling the apprehension settle slightly when Rafayel positively lit up in response, excited that you had agreed.

“I won’t do anything that will make you uncomfortable. And if you want to stop, we stop. Okay?”

You nodded, feeling more at ease when you saw how considerate he was being. Maybe this would actually be a good experience.

Over a week and a half later was when you finally had a whole free day. When you showed up at Rafayel’s studio, you were jittery with nerves, and unable to focus on anything except the fact that you would be posing nude. He had already sent you some poses as references, and all of them placed your arms and legs tactfully in places that would conceal anything you wanted hidden. He left it all up to you though, saying anything you were comfortable with was what he would make. Nevertheless, you felt the little buzz under your skin, a mix of nerves and excitement, as you entered his place.

Rafayel turned his back to you so you could get comfortable, offering to leave the room if you wanted. You dismissed it though. This would take a few hours, might as well get accustomed to the feeling.

You perched yourself on the surprisingly comfy stool the best you could, opting to use one of the poses Rafayel sent. It was sensual without being sleazy, and it hid anything you didn’t want to reveal.

“You can turn around now.” You couldn’t hide the slight tremble in your voice.

Rafayel turned back to face you, but he didn’t look at you. He made to sit on his own stool, perched before the canvas so you could see just his eyes above the top of it. He picked up the palette in his left hand, reaching for a clean brush with his right, and then, his eyes flicked up, directly meeting yours.

Your breath paused, stuck in your chest, and you felt unfamiliar under how intense his gaze was, like a fire lit inside him as he picked up the brush. The teasing and playful Rafayel was gone. He was….. serious. Careful.

You felt like your body was burning when his eyes slowly moved downward, and his hand started moving. Gentle pitter patter of the brush on the paint, and then the delicate swish of it over the blank canvas. The room was silent besides the sound, and the ruffle of his clothes every time his arm moved. Every few seconds, his eyes would flick up again, focusing on some new detail of your body.

You had anticipated feeling nervous throughout the process, but under the monotone sounds of Rafayel’s brush, a wave of tranquility passed over you. You felt the fragile lull of the silence drape itself on the room, and you focused solely on the deep purple of his eyes, remembering when you had first met him in this very studio. He had come off as flirty and mouthy, and you remembered how unsure of him you were. You hadn’t anticipated that one day you would possibly be in love with him. And certainly not that you would bare yourself to him like this.

“Doing okay?” His voice was quiet, as if afraid to break the peace of the surrounding air. It was so gentle, like he was offering you an out if you wanted. The sound made your heart stutter. You gave him a small smile and a nod.

“I’m good.”

For the next hour and a half, Rafayel painted in silence, checking in on you every now and then, offering to take breaks. You said you felt fine, and you wanted to get this done in one sitting. Honestly, you didn’t mind it all that much once you two had started, and something about having his eyes study you the way they were made a blissful shiver run up your spine.

You almost didn’t want it to end.

When Rafayel finally announced a ‘done’ to you, the corner of his lip lifted up in triumph and joy, you released a breath of your own, unaware that you had been holding it. Rafayel stood up and walked closer to you, holding up the white robe you had previously put on. He turned his back to you again as you hopped down from the stool and put in on.

“It might be useless to ask, but can I see it?”

Rafayel gave you his signature teasing smile and a wink. “Not yet. I want to do the finishing touches before I reveal it to you.”

You sighed, not having expected anything different. Rafayel placed a gentle hand on the small of your back.

“Come on. Let’s get some food in you. You’ve been a wonderful muse. You deserve a reward.”

…………………….

‘It’s ready.’

The text made your heart leap, despite it being many days since your little session with Rafayel. Having been busy with work, you had barely even thought about the painting, though it did flit through your mind every now and then. You felt jittery with excitement when you knocked on his door that evening. Somehow, you were more nervous for the final result than you were of the process.

Maybe it was because this was Rafayel’s creation. It essentially showed you how he viewed you. What you looked like to him. The thought was nerve racking.

Rafayel opened the door with his signature teasing smile, inviting you in and immediately making a beeline for the painting because he knew how impatient you were to see it. It was covered with a plain white sheet, and you had to laugh at the theatrics of Rafayel pulling it off with flourish and revealing the piece underneath.

“Ready?” He asked, gripping the cloth in his hands. You took a deep breath and nodded, giving him permission to tug off the sheet, and he did.

Your world seemed to freeze.

You tried to suck in a breath, but it seemed to be stuck in your windpipe, unable to get past the lump forming in your throat. Your lips parted open, jaw almost slack. Your eyes darted over every detail of the canvas.

The brush strokes were careful, reasonably thin and lengthy. It looked exactly like you, and yet nothing like you at the same time. Your bare skin was glowing, your face was turned to capture the highlights of the light perfectly, and you looked absolutely radiant. Despite the shine of your hair and the glimmer of your skin, there was nothing that drew your attention more than the way he had painted your eyes.

There was a melancholy in them, a distant feeling of a bittersweet memory. Your lips were separated in a quiet O, and even your eyelashes were so detailed, like every single flick of Rafayel’s wrist had been thought out to perfectly create the image.

It took your breath away.

You turned to look at the man beside you, so speechless that even moving your tongue seemed like a feat. “Rafayel…”

“I’m assuming you like it?” He supplied, and you could see just how proud he was of his creation. You were still stuck on the fact that “this is what he thinks I look like”.

You wanted to ask so many questions. You wanted to ask him if he had exaggerated it, or if he really thought you were this beautiful. You wanted to ask him how long he had spent on it, trying to make it as perfect as possible. You wanted to ask if he would keep it or sell it.

You wanted to ask when he would give up on this back and forth limbo and finally kiss you with the same amount of love he put in this painting.

“It’s beautiful.” That’s what you settled on instead, feeling your cowardice creep up on you again. Once more, you left your emotions unsaid where they were.

Rafayel’s smile widened, softer than anything as his eyes seemed to search your face for something.

“Thank you for being my muse.”

You only smiled in return.

#rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #lad #lnd #rafayel fluff #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x mc #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace x reader

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nicole-timey-wimey-stuff · 6 months ago

Text

It Was Enchanting to Meet You

Lord Debling x Fem reader

Lord Alfred Debling x female Bridgerton reader

Synopsis - You’re the second eldest Bridgerton daughter, being forced by your brother to finally debut. You believed the ordeal would be terrible, that was until you meet the handsome Lord Debling, the handsome stranger soon captivates your mind and heart.

Warnings- fluff, period drama, feelings, very small amount of angst, confessions, great sibling relationships, suggestive themes but no smut. Still 18+ though please.

Word count- 4.7K

Today was the day, the day you were coming out into society, you’d put it off long enough. Being that you were only a year younger than your elder sister Daphne, and a year older than Eloise who were both already out. But your mother hadn’t pushed you and for that you were thankful, your eldest sibling Anthony though was another story. He had all but told you enough was a enough, and even though he would not ever force you to take a husband, you needed to be out in society despite your disagreement with it.

He did not want the great Bridgerton name tarnished, with people starting to talk of the strange girl in the family who did not conform to society’s norm, who did not like social situations, a girl who spent her time fencing, reading and horseback riding. You were a free spirit, one who preferred the wind in her hair, rather than constricted dresses, dancing and polite conversation.

So now just having turned 20 you were being launched into the world around you. This brings you back to today, your mother was flapping making sure both you and Francesca looked perfect, creamy white gowns adorning your bodies, lace perfectly placed, your dress was accentuated with gold floral embroidery and tiny puff sleeves. You adjusted your long white gloves once more before exiting your room, “Ah y/n there you are my love, have you seen your sister I can’t find her anywhere, she is not in her room!” Your mother Violet frets, she’s looking pale and exhausted. “Calm down mother, I’m sure she is about, I can hear music are you sure you haven’t checked it is not her playing?” You ask.

“Oh! No I have not, come, we shall go check together.” She replies, gently grasping your wrist and tugging you down the staircase In search of your sister, you are sure she only holds onto you so she cannot loose you too.

Walking into the drawing room you find it was indeed Francesca playing the piano forte, your mother breathing a big sigh of relief, she is also dressed ready to go. “Well then my children let’s get going shall we?” She asks as she ushers us all out to the carriages, turning to you and Francesca she says “You both look so beautiful!” Voice full of emotion. “Thank you mother” you both say in unison, she nods before you all enter the carriage and head off to the queens palace.

The whole thing went by in a blur, you walked down the aisle, bowed to the queen then exited out to the side, you’d all entered out into a garden party where people were mingling happily. Your brother Colin who had just returned from travels, was boasting to the young ladies, causing them to fawn over him. Penelope Featherington sadly watching from the sidelines, you were very aware of how she felt for your brother, being the same age you had spent many moments together. Although you wouldn’t call her a close friend, it saddened you to see her aways watching him with such hopeful but sad eyes.

You decided she could do with a distraction so you made your way over to her, “Hey Pen, how are you? I haven’t seen you about the house recently?” You ask, she jumps, obviously you’d caught her very much deep in thought. “My goodness y/n you scared me” she gasps hand on her chest, “Sorry Pen, we were both on our own so I thought I’d come talk with you” you explain. Her face softens then “Of course, you can always come talk to me, I know how hard this must all be for you” she replies her face now sympathetic. “Yes, I do so hate public attention, but alas my brother thought it was necessary” you sigh, nodding Penelope gave you a look of understanding, “We must all be pushed out into society sooner or later, I was just 17 when my mother decided I needed to be out. And look over three years later and I’m still just sat here with no suitor prospects, I wish I could find a husband” she groans, “What? Why? You’ve never seemed too interested before?” You ask.

With a sigh she turns to you “In all honesty I need my privacy, and I just cannot stand living with my family any longer, at least your family is supportive and kind, mine can be just awful” she complains. You nod, you understand, her family have always been difficult especially her mother! “Well then Pen I hope you find a kind, loyal man to be your husband this season, you deserve some happiness” you tell her in earnest. “Thank you y/n, you do too, whatever that is for you, you deserve happiness too” she says as she walks off, leaving you once more to your thoughts.

Would you find happiness? What was happiness to you anyways?

________________________________________

That evening you were attending your very first ball, nerves settled deep within your stomach. There would be many people attending Lady Danbury’s ball, and you were hoping to quietly blend into the crowds, not causing any reason to warrant any unwanted attention. Anthony had insisted on you being present, he had also given you a list of people he had chosen for your to converse with.

Your dress though, that you had chosen for yourself, it was a deep maroon, corseted down to your waist, it then flared out into a subtle A line ballgown. It had thick off the shoulders straps, sparkling embroidery and a skirt that swished as you moved. You wanted something that felt more freeing, compared to the tight empire line gowns that were the norm. Giving yourself a last once over you sighed, although you looked like a princess, you felt absolutely ridiculous.

Entering the party was as equally nerve wrecking as bowing to the queen this morning, walking down the steps after your brothers and sisters you felt all eyes shift to you, you held your head hire and floated down with all the grace you could muster, it must have worked because once you’d reached the bottom all eyes were still glued to you. Your mother came rushing to meet you, “You did well, you entered as gracefully as a swan” she gushed, you rolled your eyes at her enthusiasm, “Well mother my plan is to not cause any unwanted attention, I don’t want them thinking I am some wild animal that cannot be tamed” you sassed back. Tutting she guided you through the crowds to meet some new people, what you hadn’t noticed though, were a pair of very entranced blue eyes belonging to the one Lord Alfred Debling watching your entrance.

“Who is she?” Lord Debling asked Lady Danbury, “That would be Miss Y/N Bridgerton, second eldest daughter of the Bridgerton family” Lady Danbury answered. “I see” he replies eyes still watching you intently, Lady Danbury smirks knowingly, “I may also add, she only debuted this morning so from what I gather she is very much on the market, so to speak” she smiled. “Is that so?” He asks eyes still enchanted by you. The pair hadn’t noticed Cressida Cowper Joining them, not until she spoke up causing them to both jump slightly, “I’ve heard she’s a strange girl” she abruptly interrupts, “And where have you heard that Miss Cowper?” Asks Lady Danbury, her voice full of exasperation.

“Well I’ve heard she prefers the outdoors over social gatherings, she rides her horse bareback at some speed I may add, I’ve seen it myself. When I’ve called on Eloise this summer she’s either sprinting through the country on her horse or she has her nose in some weird book” she explains amusedly. “I don’t see how that makes her strange, but rather it makes her unique” Lord Debling affirms, “Well also” Cressida stutters out trying to find something more vexing to say about you, “Ah she also fences, she sword fights with her brothers, isn’t it incredibly odd, incorrect even for a young lady to sword fight?” She points out. “I dare say! Does she really?” He asks Lady Danbury, “Yes I believe she does” Danbury replies, the smug look is soon wiped off Cressida’s face though when he turns back to Lady Danbury, “That is incredibly impressive, what a young lady she is! I will go introduce myself” and with that he leaves in search of you.

He finds you over by the drinks helping yourself to one before retreating to the corner, “Miss Bridgerton? Are you quite alright? You appear to be hiding in the corner” he asks. You bow quickly “Lord Debling, I’m quite well thank you, just not one for large social gathering's” you answer honestly. “Ah, no me either actually, I prefer to be outdoors” he responds. You smile up at him shyly “I do too” you agree, “Riding Percy gives me much more joy than this” you continue, choking on his drink Lord Debling gasps “I beg your pardon you what?”, “Percy, he’s my horse, a Suffolk punch, my brother Anthony bought him for me for my birthday a few years back, I most enjoy riding him through the countryside, where it’s nice and quiet” you explain,

“Oh of course, I heard from Lady Danbury that you enjoy riding, he conveys, cheeks bright red now from his misunderstanding. “Lady Danbury spoke of me? To you?” You ask confused, “Umm yes, I happened to ask after you” he admits, you offer him a smile “I see and what else did she happen to say about me?” You question teasingly causing him to smirk, “Nothing much else, just that this was your first season” he stutters out now feeling very put on the spot, “Oh yes well I put it off as long as I possibly could, but my brother is forcing me to try this year” you confirm, “Is it so very bad?” He asks, teasing smile on his lips, “Well maybe not as bad as I had made it out to be in my head” you admit.

“Well then, would you care to dance?” He offers, hand outstretched towards you. “Yeah ok, why not, in the name of trying new things of course” you smile, “Of course” he repeats, clearly amused by you. He walks you out to the dance floor as everyone lines up, ready for the dance to begin. As the music plays he spins you around the dance floor, your eyes never leaving one another’s, its almost as if there’s static energy between you, your hearts pounding in your chest, you can tell everyone is watching you both, but in that moment all you can see is him.

“Is that your daughter Violet, dancing with Lord Debling?” One of the mothers asks, “Yes” your mother laughs, “I dare say it is” her face is lit up at the way your both staring at each other, thoughts of Daphne and Simon’s first dance entering her mind. This looked very promising, she thought you’d be the hardest to convince to give this whole ordeal a try, but you were entranced by the man before you, and it was Francesca who had made a rather hastily exit home already.

Lady Danbury joins your mother, “He asked about her you know, the second she entered the room” she tells your mother, knowing smirk still plastered on her face, “Did he?” Your mother asks, “Yes, he seemed very much intrigued by her, maybe we’ve made a match already” she implies, “Maybe…….. I will speak to my daughter once we are home” you mother decides. Nodding in agreement Lady Danbury takes her leave.

Once your dance comes to an end you bow and move to walk away, thinking he would have other young ladies to dance with, a soft grip of your hand causes you to turn, coming face to face with Lord Debling once more, “May I call on your tomorrow?” He asks, “Yes you may” you give a curt nod before leaving with your family.

This night had gone much better than expected, you thought to yourself whilst laying in bed, you felt excited to see what else was to come.

________________________________________

The next day you’d woken up early, to get yourself dressed for your sword fighting lesson, hoping you’d have time to freshen up before anyone had any callers, you smile to yourself at the thought of seeing Lord Debling again today. Bounding down the stairs you met your instructor Henry, “Good morning Miss Bridgerton, are you ready?” He asks, “Yes I am” you affirm, “Very good, although I don’t see how you need any more lessons now, I’ve taught you everything I know, and you have mastered it all”, you grin “Why thank you Henry, but I can tell you why I need my lessons” you reply, “And why is that Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Because I enjoy them” you laugh as you get into position.

Your two eldest brothers had joined you now, you were currently practicing against Benedict, completely loosing track of time. “Why do you encourage this Anthony?” Your mother asks, “Well dear mother I think it’s good that a lady knows how to defend herself, no one will ever mess with our little y/n now will they?” He questions playfully, rolling her eyes she waves him off as she leaves the room.

“Ha! I win again! Really Benedict are you even trying?” You goad, sweaty and exhausted he gives you the are you kidding look, “Yes dear sister unfortunately I am!” He grumbles, Anthony snorts out a laugh “Well I dare say these lessons are paying off, you have quite the talent” he praises you, “Thank you brother” you smile. Just then one of your maids enter the room, “Someone’s here to see you Miss” she announces, realisation hits you! Oh no Lord Debling has arrived and your still in your fencing clothes.

Walking in he smiles at you, you bow nervously before rambling out, “I’m very sorry I lost track of time my lord, please excuse me for a moment while I go change”, “Nonsense don’t worry about it, I’d love to see you in action” he answers, “Really!?” You ask surprised, he nods in response, you look to Anthony motioning for him to come join you, but he puts his hands up in surrender, “Oh no, watching Benedict loose all credibility was quite enough for one day, I will go find my wife, as I promised her a walk this morning.” He replies, “I’ll spar with you” Lord Debling offers, “Oh I couldn’t ask that of you my Lord” you hastily reply, “You’re not asking, I’m offering” he affirms before removing his jacket and placing on Benedict’s fencing armour.

Anthony lets out a laugh, “Perfect” he announces, before turning to Lord Debling “Don’t let her win, she will know. She is incredibly able” he confirms before leaving to find his wife. “Well are you ready then?” Debling asks you, “Yes, quite ready” you smirk back. As the two of you spar the static energy returns from last night, you fall into an effortless rhythm against one another, he fights well, there is technique and power to his moves, but you are just too quick for him, eventually knocking the sword from his hands and pointing yours to his chest in victory,

“I say! You are rather good at this aren’t you” he laughs, “Yeah I think it’s because I enjoy it so much” you agree.

“You Miss Bridgerton are an incredibly rare flower indeed” he says, “Thanks” you reply warm blush adorning your cheeks, “Will you save me a dance at tonight’s party?” He asks. “Yes of course” you reply maybe a little too hastily, “Well then, until tonight” he offers placing a delicate kiss to your knuckles. Before leaving he looks back towards you once more, giving you the most endearing smile.

You were very much looking forward to seeing him again tonight.

________________________________________

Over the next few weeks the two of you became much more acquainted with one another, you danced together at every party, usually more than once, you took chaperoned strolls together in the park and your family had also invited him over a couple of times for dinner.

You’d learnt much about him, his love for animals and wildlife, the fact he didn’t eat meat, all his adventure and conservation ideas, you’d become completely enamoured with this man, It appeared he also was with you too.

Today you were both taking a stroll in the park, the sun was warm and the smell of blossoms filled the spring air. Your maid was walking a few steps behind you, keeping a watchful eye. “Beautiful day is it not?” You ask him cheerfully, enjoying the sunshine on your skin. “Yes it is, but I can see something much more beautiful” he replies watching you carefully, you turn your head to hide your reddening cheeks. “Will you be attending the garden party tomorrow? I hear there will be a new form of transport being showcased” you ask, “Yes I believe I will be attending” he responds while smiling at you, grinning up at him you offer a nod in response.

“Well I bid you farewell Lord Debling, I have promised to help my mother this afternoon, I will see you tomorrow?” You offer, “Yes I shall see you tomorrow, good afternoon Miss Bridgerton” he replies. You spare him one last glance, before you walk off with your maid.

________________________________________

It was the day of the garden party and you were stood looking at the enormous ballon in awe, was that really supposed to be able to carry people through the sky? “Quite spectacular isn’t it?” Lord Deblings voice cut through your thoughts causing you to jump, “My Lord, you gave me a fright!” You gasped, “I am sorry, that was not my intention” he responds “That’s ok, it is spectacular yes, although I do worry how it’s supposed to transport people” you reply.

“Yes quite, but I suppose only time will tell, are you well Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “Yes, thank you my Lord I am very well” you affirm, “Good” he nods.

As the afternoon goes on Penelope, Eloise and Cressida join in your conversation, Cressida going out of her way to try and impress Lord Debling, not even caring how desperate and contrary it makes her appear. Penelope spends the whole time staring at Colin and Eloise is pretty much rolling her eyes at everybody’s antics. Cressida continues to laugh at something he said, almost hanging off his arm, causing a pit of jealousy to stir in your stomach.

You turn your attention once again to the large ballon, which is now rocking very unstably in the wind, creaking and groaning as the ropes loosen. Just as they snap your brothers are rushing over to pull them back, using as much strength as they can muster to pull the thing back into place. All you can do is watch in terror as they lose control and the ship comes hurtling towards you, it all happens so quick, one miniute you’re watching terrified, the next you’re on the floor Lord Deblings body shielding you.

“Are you quite alright?” He asks gazing into your eyes, “Yes all thanks to you”. He carefully traces his fingertips down the side of your jaw, you watch him with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than to lean in and kiss him. Someone loudly clears their throat behind you, you both jump apart, turning to see Cressida and Eloise watching you both.

Lord Debling jumps up before offering you a hand up too, “What luck you were there to save my sister, thank you my Lord” Eloise states, “Of course, it was nothing” he replies before walking off.

“What was that y/n?” Eloise gasps, “I hardly know” you reply, completely shocked yourself.

________________________________________

That very evening you arrived at the ball still very much in shock, more so by Lord Deblings behaviour than nearly being squashed by the heavy ballon. Your mother currently had you making small talk with every eligible Lord in the room, “Mother is this really necessary?” You grumbled as you made your way over to yet another man, “Yes my darling daughter it is, until Lord Debling actually proposes you must keep your options open” she insists, “But Anthony said I do not have to marry this season, only that I must be out in society” you ask confused.

“Yes I know my sweet girl, but every year you’re on the market the less desirable you become, now make haste” she commands, you roll your eyes at her as she drags you through the crowd, “Lady Bridgerton, Miss Bridgerton, how nice to see you both” Lord Cambell greets, “Lord Cambell, lovely to see you again” you reply with a very forced smile. “Would you have any space left on your card to include a dance with me?” He asks, you stutter before your mother replies on your behalf, “My daughter would be delighted”, you resentfully offer your wrist and card for him to write his name on, before bowing and leaving to find some corner to hide in.

After no empty corner is found you retreat to the gardens in hope of some peace, leaning against the cold stone of the house you close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Miss Bridgerton you should not be out here alone” Lord Deblings voice causes you to jump, “My goodness my Lord! Must you always startle me so.” You gasp, “Sorry I never intend too” he replies in earnest, “But you really shouldn’t be out here alone” he repeats as he steps closer, “Yes I know, but I need a minute to breathe, it’s awfully stuffy in there, and my mother is being a nuisance….” You trail off, voice stuttering as he steps closer once more, “By nuisance you mean by parading you around the room, like a prized animal?” He smirks, “Yes” you stammer, feeling more breathless than before if that was at all possible.

He carefully moves a piece of hair from your face, “Do you not wish for the attention of the Lords here tonight Miss Bridgerton?” He asks, “No, not from those ones anyways” you whisper, then in a flash his mouth meets yours, it’s passionate and gentle, it’s fire but also calm. Your fingers grasp his jacket as you pull him in closer, moulding your body to his own, his fingers move from your face to your neck, tilting your face to give him better access. His other hand grasps your thigh as he pulls it over his hip, grounding down into you causing a low whimper from your lips, moving from your mouth he kisses down your neck, nipping at your sweet spot, your hands slide into his hair as you grind into his hips once more.

Your movement causes him to gasp before quickly pulling himself away from you, leaving you a breathless mess. “I shouldn’t have done that” he worries, “My Lord?” You ask confused and worried, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position I am so very sorry” he repeats and your heart sinks, was he going to reject you now? Were you about to loose all credibility? Sensing your despair he quickly comforts you, “What I mean to say is that shouldn’t have happened before I asked for your hand, I do not wish to dishonour you, if you will have me and your brother agrees to it, I would very much like to make you my wife” he confirms, “Really?” You ask.

“Yes really, I am quite enamoured with you my dearest y/n, I came here to the Ton to seek out a wife, I thought I could find a match of convenience, one where I could travel and my wife would happily stay at home managing my estate. I did not think love was in the cards for me, I believed that my work would take up too much space in my heart for that, but then I met you, and my goodness did you change everything” he explains.

“Is this a confession of love my Lord?” You ask still very much breathless.

“It is yes, I didn’t come here to seek it which makes this as much a surprise to me as it is to yourself” he replies.

“I love you too” you admit, which causes his handsome face to light up, “I too did not believe this would happen, when my brother asked me to debut this season, I admit I hated the very idea, but I’m so very glad I did as it lead me to you” You confess.

“Well then my love, I believe I have a question to ask your brother” he replies, his hand seeking to find your own, grasping his with yours you reply “I suppose you do”. He gives you one last kiss on your cheek before heading inside to seek out your brother. You are still stood against the house, breaths still racing as you trace your lips with your fingertips, the tingling of his kisses still present.

Upon entering your home that evening Anthony stops you “Y/N may I speak with you a moment?” He asks, “Yea of course brother what is it?”

“Lord Debling has asked for my permission to propose to you, he says he has the deepest of feelings for you and he wishes you to be his wife, I know him to be a very kind man, one who obviously wouldn’t ever hurt an animal or a woman, he has a great estate and great prospects, so if it’s what you want I will agree to it at once, but I told him I had to talk with my sister first” he explains.

You smile knowing how deeply your family cares for each other, this is something you will never take for granted. “Truth is brother, I love him very much, I didn’t think it were possible to find someone I could fall for so deeply, but here we are” you reply.

“Very well then I shall give him my permission” Anthony affirms. You walk over and give him a chaste kiss to the cheek, “Thank you brother” you respond, he nods giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze before wandering off.

You were going to be married! Not only that to a man you love, you felt such happiness in that moment your chest could burst.

________________________________________

The next morning whilst reading your maid walked in announcing Lord Debling was here to see you, you nod at her to let him in.

“Hello my love, are you well this morning?” He asks as he enters the room.

“I am quite well my Lord thank you” you smile.

“Please call me Alfred, such formalities feel no longer necessary”

“Very well Alfred, but then you must call me y/n so we are on equal terms” you reply.

He laughs, “Of course, my dearest y/n, so I’m guessing it’s no secret to as why I am here?” He asks.

“Well I have an idea, but I will need you to clarify” you respond with wit.

“Very well Miss y/n Bridgerton” he begins before getting down on one knee, “You have bewitched my heart, and I’m asking if you will do me the extraordinary honour of becoming my wife?”

Walking towards him you kneel down in front of him, reaching out and tracing his stubbled cheek, “Yes Alfred, I will marry you” you gush before moving in and placing your lips against his, in a sweet soft kiss.

Just then all your family enter the room offering congratulations, you thank them all but your eyes never leave his, as you think to yourself yes you believe this will be a very happy marriage indeed.

#lord debling #bridgerton #lord debling x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #Bridgerton reader #bridgerton x you #Lord Debling x you #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #Lord Debling imagine #bridgerton fanfiction

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really-fanny-longbottom · 1 month ago

Text

tears in pages

summary: because no matter how much time passes, cassian will never forget his first love.

warnings: angst/mentions of arranged marriage, smut, heartbreak, death, grieving and injuries

pairings: cassian x reader

words: 8k (i think?)

love.

a word.

four letters.

one feeling.

infinite meanings.

love is such a strange feeling that it can vary in so many ways.

it can provoke so many emotions at the same time, both negative and positive.

it can make us dream, smile, celebrate.

it can make us suffer, cry, grieve.

how can such a small word have such an impactful meaning?

those who manage to have it once in their lives are considered lucky, those who find it more than once are considered blessed.

but that was not the case with cassian.

having grown up as he did, in a place surrounded by mountains and by males who despised him, with the words 'bastard' and 'brute' used as greetings, he never imagined himself capable of witnessing such a feeling.

how could he, when all his life he had to fight for everything, even for the bare minimum?

fortunately, cassian's life took a happy turn, when a few years later, the nose of a young heir with violet eyes and black hair met his fist.

followed by a quiet and shy boy who had small shadows as companions.

and a brown-eyed blonde with a great obsession for red clothes and an incredible sense of humor.

ending with a silver-eyed creature with the age of a god and the feeding habits of a vampire.

but that was never the kind of love that cassian felt unworthy of having.

not the kind of love that is meant for family or that can be shared between friends.

but the love that is reserved for that special person who appears in your life and makes you wonder how you could have lived until that moment without them.

of the love that makes your stomach tingle with butterflies, of the blushing cheeks that make you look like a certain vegetable and of the smile that can light up the sky on the darkest night.

cassian, who thought he was nothing in life, had a big surprise when he discovered that he was actually blessed.

the question that many ask and few know the answer to: who was the lucky one to first occupy the heart of the general of the night court?

for those who don't know him, they say that nesta archeron is his first love — the mating bond that revealed itself between the two serving as proof of such a statement.

for those who know him a little better, their answers would be tanwyn — the fearless valkyrie who lost her life in the war.

both answers are incorrect.

cassian's journey in love did not begin with either of them.

with only his family as witnesses to the true answer, as they too were blessed to have cassian's first love as a friend — if not a family member.

the story begins with a human girl with a heart bigger than the world, a smile sweeter than honey and eyes so blue they could rival the sea.

a human girl who was running away from a life she didn't want and whose escape led her to a certain general.

a human girl who stole everyone's heart, with her first victim being cassian's heart.

her name was y/n.

•••

he has a mate.

he had never imagined himself in this position.

cassian still didn't know how to process this new information.

he has another chance at love, but not with the person his heart still beats for.

the general found refuge in his room, where he could better organize his thoughts.

one thing he knew — he liked nesta. but loving her? that felt like a betrayal.

cassian unrolled the paper he held in his hands. although the paper already showed signs of age, the drawing remained intact.

cassian couldn't take his eyes off that beautiful face — the face he had been blessed to see, love, and caress. it felt like it was a lifetime ago.

"she's beautiful."

the voice startled him. he had been so focused that he hadn't even realized nesta had entered the bedroom.

"i'm sorry, i just wanted to see if you were okay," nesta moved a little closer to him, "you disappeared so quickly after the. . .the bond snapped, and i just want you to know that if you don't want me as your mate, i understand-"

"sit down," cassian instructed, indicating the space next to him on the bed. "i have something to show you."

nesta obeyed and watched as cassian fought a battle against himself. following his gaze, she saw what was bothering him so much.

cassian's eyes were fixed on a small basket that was stored in the corner of the wall next to the bed.

cassian felt tears immediately invade him.

that damn basket.

every time he looked at it, he was taken back to the past.

but he loved that basket. it was the only physical reminder of the best time of his life.

he painted it that way with his own hands after. . . it took him two weeks to finish.

that damn purple basket with white flowers.

cassian cursed before getting up slightly from the bed and grabbing one of its handles, dragging it until it was at his feet.

all the letters were still inside — all of them.

there were more than a hundred in all, some more intimate than others — that ones, cassian didn't dare to read again because he believed his heart couldn't handle going through it again.

for that very reason, he grabbed his favorites and handed them to nesta.

"here," cassian's hand shook slightly, as did his voice, "read these and you'll understand everything."

nesta leafed through all the letters in her hands, confusion showing in her furrowed brows. "what are these?"

cassian let out a deep sigh "read them. they'll explain everything."

she nodded, and so she picked up the first letter and read it.

•••

dear cassian, today is the third day since i've been back and i'm afraid i have to admit that i miss you already. everything remains the same around here, it feels like i never left. last night, i had an argument with my parents about what had happened. i was very vague about everything, but i did confess that there had been someone and i'm glad i did, because joffrey broke off the engagement this morning. apparently, he no longer has any interest in me now that i'm not 'pure' according to his words. he thinks he humiliated me but in fact he did me a big favor. i went for a walk in the forest this morning and it reminded me of the day we met. do you remember that day? little did we know the adventure that awaited us, and how wonderful it was, don't you agree? with love, y/n

cassian hated patrol work. he always thought that, next to filling out reports, this was the worst.

normally, this task fell to the spymaster, but with azriel on a mission, the task fell to him.

cassian had already made several rounds and was doing the last border check at the spring court.

everything was fine, until something caught his attention. running through the trees, as if her life depended on it, was a young woman — human.

cassian was surprised. it was very rare for humans to come this far, what was she doing there?

the justification he was looking for appeared when a boy appeared through the trees.

at the speed she was running, it was impossible for this situation to be friendly.

cassian didn't know what to do — he knows he's not supposed to interact with humans, but he couldn't just leave knowing he would hurt her.

so he did the unthinkable.

with extreme precision, cassian landed on the ground and began searching for her, following the sound of her footsteps.

when the sound stopped, cassian did too. looking around, he couldn't find anything. his ears didn't prepare him for the body that collided with his chest, knocking the small human to the ground.

cassian looked at her on the ground. he wonder how long it would take for her to scream and run away.

but that was forgotten when she raised her head.

your eyes, an immense blue, cast a spell over cassian, who found himself lost in them.

never had he seen such blue eyes, not even with the summer or winter fae.

cassian was lost for words and flustered. without even thinking, he reached out a hand and he had the surprise of his life when you placed your small hand in his too large one and allowed him to help you get up.

"thank you."

cassian had to compose himself before saying, "are you okay?"

his question went unanswered as you were too busy admiring him to listen "wow, you look like a god."

"oh." cassian found himself caught off guard — again.

"so pretty."

cassian blushed. what was going on? he had never blushed before but then again no one had ever called him pretty.

before cassian could speak, several footsteps were heard before the man who was chasing you appeared before you.

you moved behind the general and grabbed his arm as a form of protection.

a human trusted him more — a fae she barely knew than the person in front of him?

cassian didn't like that. the guy paled in front of the general, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

"is there a problem?" cassian asked him.

the man began to stutter, unable to formulate a word.

"leave me alone, joffrey. i already told you i'm not going to marry you."

suddenly, joffrey looked at you and his face took on an angry look and when he took a step forward, cassian did too.

joffrey didn't have a chance to take another step, when at the general's movement, he fell to the ground before start running while shouting.

from behind him, laughter was heard. cassian turned to find you and saw you trying to hold back your laughter.

mimicking your smile, cassian pointed in the direction where the guy had been before asking, "your fiancé?"

"arranged marriage." you explained.

"um, aren't you happy?"

"joffrey is horrible. i'd be better off married to a horse than him."

a deep chuckle erupted from the male. you were undoubtedly an interesting human "you're not afraid of me."

"why would i be?"

"because i'm a fae?"

"i don't judge people based on their appearance."

that made him shut up and cassian realized it was true. everyone ran away when they saw a fae and here you were, sympathizing with one.

cassian watched you look around.

"i can't go back. if i do, i'll be forced to marry him."

when you reached up to brush your hair away from your face, you noticed the wound on your hand. "is. . .this. . .is this blo. . .blood?"

cassian didn't have time to respond before you passed out. he caught you and lifted you up in his arms, and that sight did something to him.

you did something to him.

and just like that, cassian did the unthinkable a second time that day and took you to velaris with him.

•••

dear cassian, i had an interesting week. i found an injured cat on my way back from the market. the poor thing had a hurt paw and was a little sick, so of course i took him home with me. i fed him, tended to his wound, kept him warm and clean, and made sure he got better. by the end of the week, he was as good as new. i don't know how, but i managed to convince my father to keep him, so now i have a new companion. i named him amren because he looks so much like her. you know what this reminded me of? when you got sick and i took care of you. it was a funny experience, wasn't it? with love, y/n

cassian felt terrible but not as terrible as he would make azriel feel after beating him in the ring for making him sick.

the shadowsinger had returned from his mission in windhaven where he had caught the illyrian flu and now all three brothers were sick.

he was going to make his brother pay, but before he had a chance to think how, his door was opened.

you walked in with a bowl of hot soup in one hand and a large box in the other.

"how is the sick boy?"

"horrible."

a chuckle ran through the room before cassian felt his mattress dip. you made him stand up a little before dipping the spoon into the soup and turning it to him.

"i can eat on my own, thank you." cassian knew how his brothers would tease him for the rest of his life if they saw him being fed by you.

"allow me," you insisted. "you took care of me when i first got here and the small lady said i couldn't get out of bed."

cassian laughed at your description of madja. when he brought you in, she had examined you and discovered that you were severely dehydrated and a little malnourished from the run in the forest and forced you to rest for a week.

cassian took care of you the entire time without ever complaining.

he pointed a finger at you before swallowing the soup. "this can never get out of here."

more giggles reached cassian's ears. how he loved that sound.

"yes, sir general."

cassian ate the soup and ended up repeating after praising your cooking skills one too many times.

board games and cards followed. when cassian's temperature rose, you placed a cold towel on his forehead and read him some poems to help him fall asleep.

a few hours later, rhys went to his brother's room to see how he was doing and was surprised when he saw the two of you.

cassian slept on your chest with his arm around your waist, and you slept with your head resting on his, one arm around his shoulders while the other still held the book.

rhys smiled, and left you two to dream.

•••

dear cassian, autumn is here. this morning, while i was in the garden reading, i had the opportunity to see the flocks of birds migrating. i spent a long time watching them and thinking how lucky they are. it reminded me of the day you took me flying for the first time and how incredible it was. what i would give to fly with you one more time. with love, y/n

"i won't let you fall."

your nervous look made cassian chuckle. the male stood in front of you as he watched you stare at the city below.

"don't you want to go see the city?"

"of course i do!" you replied, "but humans don't fly."

a round of laughter invaded cassian, he loved the way you were so direct and straightforward.

two weeks had passed since your arrival, and you kept talking about how you wanted to see the city.

even though it was night, cassian had told you how beautiful it is at night, leading the two of you to the balcony.

approaching you, cassian took your hand and when you looked away from him he placed a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him "you're safe with me, sweetheart."

your eyes acquired a shine that made cassian's heart skip a beat "promise?"

as he placed a light kiss on your hand, cassian promised you.

the general lifted you in his arms and took flight. your body was invaded by adrenaline, making you hide your head in the male's neck for the first few seconds. but with his encouragement, you opened your eyes.

the sparkle returned to your eyes and you felt like you were in a real fairy tale.

it seemed like a dream — the city lit up by stars, the rainbow bridge, the river under the moonlight, people dancing and singing in the streets.

you were so taken aback by everything that your eyes didn't even look away when cassian spoke. "i have an idea. do you trust me?"

"with my life."

cassian felt the weight of your words, but before he could think too much about them, he hugged you around your waist, making you fall into his embrace and stay underneath him.

cassian descended his flight and took you straight to the river where he lowered you until your hands could reach the water.

you stretched out your arms and felt the cold water tickle you making you laugh nonstop. you traveled the entire river, until cassian lifted you higher again, but you kept your arms open the whole time.

it seemed like you were really flying.

freedom and magic had never seemed more beautiful to you.

you smiled all night.

•••

dear cassian, today i was invaded by one of the best memories ever. my mother braided my hair for church and i couldn't help but blush and giggle almost the entire time. i was greeted by strange looks from her but it didn't bother me at all. how could it be when i was thinking about you? that night was special, wasn't it? i know it was for me. with love, y/n

today was one of those days.

the one that cassian just wanted to end. his mother's birthday was always a difficult day for him, and if he could, he would just skip it completely.

in an attempt to feel better, cassian went in search of the only thing that offer him comfort these days.

three knocks on the wooden door and a second later, cassian entered the room and upon seeing your smiling face, the tension that tormented him left his body.

you greeted him with a smile so big that it almost disarmed the general completely.

"hey, big boy." several giggles followed your greeting.

cassian couldn't help the giggles that also came out of him, as he closed the door and headed towards the bed where you were sitting.

"hey, little one." cassian was enjoying this new type of flirting — innocent and pure, true and funny, with no ulterior motives.

you were already ready for bed. your nightgown was white and one of the straps was hanging down because you were finishing braiding your hair.

his troat got a little dry.

"are you okay? you look a little sad."

cassian's eyes shifted back to yours, and his heart warmed at your kindness.

"i'm fine. it's just one of those days."

understanding dawned on your face, "well, lucky for you, i have the best medicine for that."

amusement filled cassian's face. raising an eyebrow, he asked "it's that so?"

nodding your head, you grabbed his hand and led him to sit in front of you on the floor.

cassian ignored the feeling of your bare legs on either side of his shoulders, your soft and smooth skin touching the skin of his arms.

moments later, cassian felt his hair being combed on one side while the other was caressed by your fingers.

the general immediately relaxed. closing his eyes, he let his back fall against the bed, filling all the space between you.

"my grandmother used to do this to me when i was little, especially when i was sad. it was impossible not to feel better after."

"were you close?" cassian found himself asking.

"a lot, there were times when i considered her more my mother than my own mother."

"you must have loved her very much."

several giggles came out of you. "i did, but we never used that expression."

through the mirror, you watched cassian frown in confusion, causing you to laugh again "what do you mean?"

"my grandmother was a complicated woman. when she was younger, she didn't believe in love. she thought it was impossible to love someone more than anything."

cassian listened attentively to every word you said.

"until she met my grandfather. she said that whenever she was with him, her heart beat faster, as if it was beating for him, and not for her. as if her heart belonged to him."

cassian found your face in the mirror, and the smile you wore as you brushed his hair made him give a matching smile.

you were talking with so much love, so much adoration.

"whenever she wanted to express her love for my grandfather, she would say 'my heart beats for you'. i've always loved that expression, i think it's much more sincere than the other one to be honest."

your expression of adoration was replaced by one of surprise "i've never told anyone this before."

cassian realized what you meant behind those words and before he could stop himself, he took a leap of confidence.

"today would be my mother's birthday."

and so, the two of you talked all night long.

cassian told you about his mother, about his childhood, about the war, about everything.

you hugged him, wiped his tears, and kissed his cheeks — he blushed but you pretended you didn't notice.

you ended up braiding his hair while telling him how you wanted to be a teacher and open your own school for girls and boys because in your village only men could study.

how you wanted to help improve the future lives of those girls who were just as deserving of a good life as any boy.

cassian found himself wondering how could you be this perfect and how lucky he felt that he was the one to find you.

in the future, when anyone asked him about the moment he fell in love with you, cassian would talk about this night.

•••

dear cassian, i miss my days in prythian. i miss you. i don't want to be human anymore. i want you. y/n

the restaurants cassian took you to so you could sample the delicious food velaris offered, including the bakeries where cassian discovered you had a sweet tooth for chocolate cake. he found himself wiping chocolate off your chin several times.

the nights at rita's where you and rhysand did karaoke side by side, acting like superstars.

your chess battles with amren, and how she could never win a single game against you, always claiming that you were cheating.

the girls' nights with morrigan, and the shopping trips she took you on.

the reading time with azriel, where just the company of each other was enough for you.

the training sessions between azriel and cassian that brought your not-so-decent scenarios with the general to life in your mind.

the night flights in cassian's arms.

the nights when you always braided his hair so that it wouldn't get knotted while he slept.

your discovery of green herbal tea that helped cassian with his allergies.

the night you outlined cassian's tattoos as a way to help him relax after a hard day.

and your favorite. your birthday when the inner circle organized a surprise party for you and cassian gave you what become your favorite piece of clothing — a purple dress with white flowers.

•••

dear cassian, the first rain has come to my village and with it has brought back some memories. i spent most of the afternoon sitting by the window just to appreciate the view. when i was questioned from my mother about my doings, i gave her this same answer and she looked at me strangely, saying that there was nothing beautiful to appreciate. oh, cass, how wrong she is. i haven't been able to get you out of my head since the first drops touched the earth. what a special day that was for us. dare i say one of the best? i will cherish that day forever as long as my memory allows it, but i know that it will always remain in my heart. how could i forget, when that was the day i felt alive again in a long time? i just hope you felt the same way. with love, y/n

it was raining non-stop.

what had started out as a sunny day had quickly turned into a gray one.

you and cassian struggled not to slip on the wet dirt as you ran to the cabin.

the cabin by the lake that rhysand had lent you for a weekend together. you had gone to visit a fair that was taking place in a nearby village before the rain changed your plans.

cassian knew that your time together was coming to an end, and that this was rhys's way of letting you say goodbye to each other, and for that, he was grateful.

holding hands, only your laughter and the rain were audible.

looking at you, cassian saw your smile, the one he likes so much. a pang sounded in his heart and forced him to stop.

"what's wrong?" you asked when you noticed.

"i don't know what you're doing to me."

confusion fell over your face "what?"

"the things you're making me feel. i've never felt anything like this before."

the world stopped. suddenly, it was just you and him, him and you. the only audible sound was the beating of your hearts.

"my heart beats for you." he confessed, "he's been beating for you for some time now."

several tears ran down your face and your breath got caught in your throat.

this was really happening.

a big smile formed on your face "my heart beats for you, too."

a great sigh of relief left his mouth, with a smile that matched yours, the general didn't waste another moment to do what he had been dreaming of doing for weeks.

he kissed you with all his strength.

you who were stealing his heart since the day he saw you.

you returned the kiss immediately encouraging cassian to deepen the kiss, making you lean back a little.

taking advantage of this new change, cassian took the opportunity to wrap his hands around the back of your thighs, propelling you upwards, making you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

the male carried you to cabin, and then to the bedroom, whose door was opened with a kick without ever breaking the kiss.

cassian supported his knees on the mattress, lowering your bodies until your back rested gently on the surface of the bed.

his hands traveled your body, while your hands slid down the width of his back, feeling every muscle he had there under your palms.

your hands continued their path until they reached the hem of his shirt. when you showed your intention to lift it, your action was interrupted by cassian.

"wait." he asked, leaning on his knees and holding your small wrists in his too-large hands.

"is there a problem?"

your legs continued to rest on either side of cassian's legs, you showed no intention of moving.

"you're human."

your eyes dropped to the skirt of your dress, a pang of shame reaching your heart. you couldn't help but think that maybe he didn't want to do this because you would never be able to satisfy him like the females in his world.

after all, you are just a simple human while they look like goddesses compared to you.

"no, it's not that."

your eyes immediately flew to meet those brown ones. cassian approached and ran a hand over your face.

"trust me, it's not that. i've never wanted anyone like i want you, but. . . "

your hand rested on his, which was on your cheek, heating up with each movement of the male.

"i'm afraid i might hurt you. i'm much stronger than you and i don't want to hur-"

"you could never hurt me." you were quick to interrupt him and the feeling of relief that filled you was welcome.

he wants you, but he's just afraid of hurting you.

your heart skipped a beat at his kindness.

"i know you'd never hurt me, cass. it's okay, i want this." this time, you were the one caressing his face, "i trust you."

oh, if you only knew how much those three words had an effect on him.

never in his four hundred years had cassian ever felt this way about anyone.

someone who made him feel alive.

someone who gave him a purpose.

nodding, cassian was quick to kiss you again, and when you tried to take off his shirt again, he didn't stop you.

standing up, he undid his pants, button by button. you watched as his pants slid down his muscular thighs.

now in just his boxers, you took in the incredible sight of the warrior he was — his muscles, his tattoos, and those strands of hair tied in a bun while the rest remained loose.

an absolute god.

what an impossible mission it was to meet this male and not fall madly in love with him.

cassian broke the last step when his boxers joined the pile of his clothes on the floor.

you couldn't stop your gaze from lingering on his length for longer than it should have.

a chuckle from cassian broke your trance and you tried to hide your blushing cheeks as you stood up and stood in front of him with your back turned.

you felt the male's breathing get heavier as you gently slid your hair over one shoulder, giving him a view of the zipper of your dress.

cassian's hands were shaking slightly as the general began to slide the clasp all the way down, being greeted by your bare back.

a kiss was placed at the beginning of your spine, sending shivers down it, while two large hands slid the dress off your shoulders until it fell to the floor.

when you found cassian's face again, you watched as his eyes traveled over your body, memorizing every detail.

with your eyes still on his, you lay back down on the mattress. cassian followed you, resting his forearms on the sides of your head.

his fingers traveled through your hair while his lips were busy kissing you.

the kiss took another turn when the kisses strayed to your cheek, followed by your neck and down your chest until they reached your belly and stopped just below your belly button.

cassian lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question.

"yes."

he placed one last kiss on your belly before his hands grabbed the fabric of your underwear and slid them down your legs.

several light kisses were placed on the inside of your thighs as the male made another round of kisses until he reached your lips.

when his hips aligned with yours, you felt a pressure at your entrance that caused a new sensation in your belly.

cassian grabbed one of your arms, lifting and bending it over your head before intertwining your fingers with his and holding it there.

his other hand slid down your thigh until he lifted it and held it higher on his hip.

"are you sure?"

a nod wasn't enough for the male who preferred words for what was about to happen.

"words, baby."

your heart skipped another beat. could this male be more perfect?

with a look of love written all over your face, you said "make me yours."

cassian fell apart at your words and as quick as a snap of his fingers, his heart surrendered to you completely.

lifting his hips slightly, cassian pushed inside and a strange sensation invaded you.

he made sure his movement was slow and gentle so as not to hurt you, until he was completely inside.

your heart was racing as was your breathing, as you tried to get used to this new sensation that could be described as strange, a little painful but at the same time pleasant.

cassian stood still for a few seconds, using his free hand to caress your hair "relax, baby."

following his advice, your muscles relaxed and the tension disappeared from your body, leaving only pleasure.

giving the male an indication to continue, cassian moved slowly and gently with each encounter of your hips.

as you got used to it, his thrusts became deeper and more precise.

your moans mixed with cassian's grunts, your bodies moving in harmony.

your body exploded and you found yourself sailing in a sea of pleasures where each sensation left you feeling incredible.

just when you thought it couldn't get any better, cassian wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing you closer, and held both of your hands above your head as he took a few minutes to explore your chest.

sucking and biting, you were left with love marks all over your skin.

this is where you wanted to be. in this bed, in the arms of this male.

you wanted to display all these marks of love so that everyone could know that the two of you belonged together.

you remained wrapped in each other until the next morning sun came to greet you.

•••

the day you and cassian had to say goodbye is not one he wants to remember.

it was months later, during one of the parties organized by the high lord in the hewn city.

after a night full of laughter, dancing and food, an attempt on rhys's life occurred. the inner circle was quick to act but not before one of the attackers hurt you.

madja was able to heal some of your injuries but due to your human nature, the others would take longer to heal.

guilt consumed cassian, reminding him how fragile you were compared to them.

cassian could not be selfish with you and make you stay in his world just so he could be with you.

he held you in his arms, kissing you and telling how much his heart beats for you.

the next morning, you woke up in your village with the a ghost feeling of strong arms around you as last memory.

•••

my love, i'm getting married. i understand that this may come as a big surprise but this time is different. i'm ready for a life beyond my parents' reach. his name is liam, we have known each other since we were children when he lived across the house from me. i met him again when i was returning from church, i learned that he recently lost his wife to a virus in a village in the north. he returned to his parents' house after his wife's funeral to start over. we have kept in touch ever since and life has led us to take the next step. we are not in love, not even close, but we are friends, we enjoy each other's company and we both want the same thing and guess what? liam loved my idea of being a teacher and opening a small school. he is a good man, he treats me very well and supports my dreams, i think everything will be fine. i bought my wedding dress the other day and i couldn't help but think about the beautiful dresses i would find in velaris and how pretty you would look in a suit at the altar. oh, cass, how i wish it was you. how i wish it was you to whom i would say those two little words. i still have some preparations to make until the wedding day, next friday. and i already know that if he ever goes off the rails, all i have to do is describe to him an illyrian general who would be happy to settle scores with him. i miss you, cass. my heart beats for you. forever yours, y/n

cassian was nervous.

he knew he shouldn't be here, but he couldn't stop himself from coming.

a part of him believed that you wanted him here, that the mention of your wedding day had been intentional so he could come.

at least, that's what he tried to convince his brothers when rhysand and azriel tried to stop him.

the sun had set long ago, but the party continued.

cassian watched the light emitted by the windows of the small church and the music that was playing inside.

several voices laughing and singing could be heard through the thin wood.

cassian paced back and forth, wondering what he should do.

the male walked a few steps towards the church only to walk back and find his brothers coming out of the trees.

a sigh of annoyance left the general's mouth, who received looks of understanding from his brothers.

"you can't be here, cass," rhysand told him for what seemed like the hundredth time since that letter had reached his brother's hands.

"what am i supposed to do, rhys?" pain showed in cassian's brown eyes, causing a pang of pain in his brothers hearts.

"my girl is in there getting married to a guy who isn't me."

azriel approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder and lightly squeezing him. "we know, but it's dangerous for you to be here, brother. what if someone sees you?"

"i'm not afraid of them, az." cassian gave him an incredulous look, as if the male didn't know what he was made of.

"i'm not talking about you," cassian's confusion was enough for him to continue. "y/n is in there. if someone sees you and tries to hurt you, she'll step in and stop it from happening. and then what? what do you think they'd do to her if they found out you were the person she was with while she was away?"

cassian's stomach turned at the mere thought of someone being capable of hurting you.

you who radiate kindness and gentleness.

"he's right, cass. not all humans are understanding, many of them would never accept the fact that y/n chose you over one of them." rhysand added.

cassian hung his head in defeat and with a simple nod, conveyed his understanding to his brothers.

just as they turned their backs on the church and prepared to leave, a honey-sweet voice stopped them.

"cass?"

a wave of electricity invaded the male's body and a sense of relief filled him.

he would recognize that voice anywhere. even if he was at the ends of the world, he would recognize you.

cassian's knees nearly gave out when he turned around and found the most beautiful bride he had ever seen.

you were on the church porch. your hair was tied up in a bun with a bridal pin on top holding a transparent, shiny veil.

you displayed a white shiny dress that started with a sweetheart neckline whose fabric hugged your form until your hips and then cascaded down to your feet.

you were mesmerizing with the starlight completing you.

cassian forgot how to breathe.

if his time came at that precise moment, he would die happy.

"cass!" your eyes lit up as your feet carried you to him.

cassian ran to you and when you threw yourself into his arms, he held you as if his life depended on it.

he inhaled your scent, memorized the softness of your skin and recorded the sound of your laughter.

cassian would stay in this position forever, with you in his arms, safe, happy and loved.

but that was interrupted when you ended the hug and pulled away just long enough to firmly grab his face and kiss him directly on his lips.

cassian kissed you back immediately. a kiss that told him so much even without words spoken in between.

how much you missed him, how much you loved him and how much to desire to be with him.

when the kiss ended, your foreheads remained together with your hands still on each other's cheeks, as you tried to calm your hearts and catch your breath.

a light laugh from you broke the silence "i missed you."

"i missed you too, baby."

"we missed you too, y/n" rhys's voice reached your ears, making you turn in the arms of your male and look in the direction of his brothers.

azriel and rhysand raised their hands together in greeting, goofy smiles on their faces.

"i missed you too, boys," your eyes redirected to those brown who invaded your dreams "but not as much as your pretty brother here."

cassian blushed, looking away from you and hiding his face in your neck, leaving his brothers giggling and mocking him.

the small moment of tenderness didn't last long when a pair of footsteps reached the ears of the illyrians, making them go into defense mode.

cassian quickly placed you behind him while rhysand and azriel joined his sides with weapons ready.

not far away, a sharp scream broke through the garden and a small 'pum' echoed beneath your feet.

before anything tragic could happen, you stepped in front of the males, trying to contain your laughter.

"it's okay! it's liam!"

liam — the human on the ground — was in a fetal position, with his head hidden in his knees and his arms wrapped around them.

"please, don't hurt me." he begged.

"liam," you tried to stifle your laughter but failed as you helped him up, "they're not going to hurt you, you idiot."

"oh," liam let out a small nervous laugh as he adjusted his coat and pants. "well, that's good. thank you."

the males put away their weapons as they observed what was your new husband.

the smile that adorned your face at the scene that had just taken place did not go unnoticed by them.

as you linked your arm with liam's, you approached the males and made the proper introductions.

"liam, this is rhysand and azriel." you paused briefly as the three shook hands.

a look of love took over your face "and this is cassian," a brief pause, enough for your eyes to regain that shine that was meant only for him "my cassian."

the male's heart skipped a beat and began beating so fast that he only realized it when his brothers' giggles started again.

clearing his throat and composing himself, cassian ignored the two idiots on the left and looked at liam.

he didn't know what to expect from the man's reaction but it was definitely not what displayed next.

"it's very nice to meet you, sir. i heard great things about you."

"you did?" cassian asked suprised.

you were the one to answer this time "i told liam about us. he's not like the others."

liam shook hands with cassian, before stepping back and exclaiming "i'll give you two a moment alone," looking at you he continued "i'll be inside when you're ready."

gratitude and joy filled your eyes bringing tears to the surface "thank you, liam."

"of course." liam replied as he took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

already heading towards the church, liam was stopped in his tracks, with a voice he knew belonged to a general without even looking back.

"yes?" he asked as he found cassian's face again.

cassian looked at you — at your eyes that shone every time you looked at him and as he ran a hand over your face, he placed his hand on the back of your neck bringing you into a hug.

as soon as your face touched his chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist, one of his hands remained on your neck while the other found your waist.

your body immediately relaxed against his and cassian had to look away from you as tears invaded his eyes.

he had to clear his throat before proceeding "take care of my girl."

liam gave him a genuine smile that showed cassian he could trust him. "i will. you have my word."

with a nod from the male, liam continued on his way until he entered the church.

a simple look at his brothers told them what cassian wanted.

a moment alone with you — the last one.

azriel and rhysand placed a kiss on the top of your head in turn before leaving.

there in the middle of a garden, in the moonlight, you and cassian danced.

"my heart beats for you." you said it one last time.

"my heart beats for you, baby."

you danced together for a long time.

the dance that was supposed to be witnessed by the whole world on your wedding day.

but instead, only the stars got to witnessed it.

•••

dear cassian, today marks two months since i started teaching. the renovations were finished a few weeks after the wedding and the school is finally up and running. the first few days were difficult, many girls didn't show up because some parents still believed that education is only for boys but i think the gods are on my side. by the fourth week there were so many girls and boys that there wasn't room for one more person. many of the children had to sit on the tables and windowsills, can you believe it? the children are contagious and have such a curiosity to learn that it fills my heart with joy. liam and i have been married for six months. we found a nice house near the lake and everything is going well. we are planning a trip to the mainland at the end of the year. it will be our honeymoon since we didn't have the chance after the wedding. i hope you are all well. with love, y/n

on top of a tree planted in a garden in front of a small school, a large illyrian general struggled with his weight to stay stable in the branches.

on the general's face was one of the biggest smiles he had ever shown.

his eyes were fixed on the scene that was unfolding a few feet away from him on the ground.

in the middle of the garden, in front of a small school, there was you. — his girl.

cassian watched as you stood in the middle of a circle, singing and clapping, while the children danced around you with smiles on their faces — faces full of a happiness caused by you.

the scene brought tears to his eyes.

you were happy.

your dream had come true.

and it was at that precise moment that he knew he had made the right decision in letting you go.

•••

dear cassian, i've been very busy with school and the children. it's been rewarding to be able to be a part of these little beings who grow more and more with each passing day. liam is doing well, we celebrated his birthday a few weeks ago. we're both very happy and our relationship gets better every day. this is a very special time for us, especially now that we've discovered that our family of two will soon become a family of three. who would have thought, me as a mom, can you imagine? my little bump is already noticeable and the baby kicked for the first time the other day. i already love this baby so much. i'm happy. with love, y/n

"where have you been?"

rhysand's voice attacked cassian's mind with a tone too loud.

cassian was sitting on the couch with several empty bottles of alcohol at his feet and tears streaming down his face.

rhys didn't need an answer from his brother to realize where he had gone.

"you went to see her."

more tears ran down cassian's face, and the male took another sip before speaking.

"they were building the crib."

rhysand let out a sigh and approached the male, taking the bottle from him and grabbing his shoulder. "you can't keep doing this to yourself, cassian. you have to let her go."

"i can't," cassian began to sob, "i don't want to."

without any way of predicting it, rhys rocked back as cassian hugged him.

the high lord's heart broke for his brother — his love for you was unquestionable.

"she looked so beautiful, rhys," the sobs grew louder, "she was wearing the purple dress with white flowers and . . . and her little bump was showing."

rhys hugged his brother tightly, showing him that he was there for him.

"i want her back. i want my girl back."

cassian fell asleep crying.

•••

dear cassian, my babygirl is here. on a summer night, cassie marie came into this world screaming and kicking. she is absolutely perfect. liam and i decided to name her after the loves we lost, i hope you like it. cassie has my hair and liam's nose but somehow she has your eyes and according to liam, marie's freckles. if this isn't a gift from the gods, then i don't know what is. cassie is now four months old, she's always smiling and communicating in her sweet way. you should see her, cassian, she's so beautiful. sometimes i let myself wonder what it would be like if she had little bat wings and black hair. even after all this, my heart still beats for you. with love, y/n

on the porch of a house by the lake, sitting in a rocking chair, a mother sang to her newborn daughter.

the beautiful girl listened attentively to her mother's voice, who looked at her with all the love in the world reflected in her blue eyes.

the baby smiled from time to time, babbling here and there, trying to join her mother.

cassian watched from the shadows.

the scene unfolding before his eyes brought him peace — a peace mixed with a certain kind of pain.

unable to help himself, he also imagined what it would be like if that little girl had small bat wings and black hair.

he imagined what it would be like to be able to hold those two precious things in his arms and be able to call them his own.

cassian couldn't hold back the tears.

that was the last time he ever saw you.

•••

dear cassian, it's been so long since my last letter. a lot has changed since then. liam and i have now been married for eight years, cassie is six, wren is three and lucy just turned one. liam and i moved to a bigger house about two years ago. our children are our greatest blessings, cassie loves to paint and read, wren has developed a new obsession with bugs and rocks, and lucy loves it when i sing to her. i wish i could slow down time so they wouldn't grow up so fast. my father passed away last year after catching a bad case of the flu, but don't worry, i'm better now. i'm glad father got to meet lucy before he left us. my birthday is coming up and I'll be thirty-two soon. it feels like a lifetime ago since i met you. every time i see cassie's eyes, i see you and my heart fills with love and good memories. my heart still beats for you, cass. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, how time flies. i can't remember the last letter i wrote you. cassie is twenty now and has a boyfriend who liam isn't very happy with. she wants to be a teacher like me and one day when she's ready, she'll take my place at school. wren is almost eighteen and has decided he wants to be a doctor like his dad. he's been helping liam at the clinic lately. the first few days were hard, he threw up a few times but he's getting the hang of it. lucy loves nature. flowers, animals, trees, anything that involves it. she doesn't know what she wants to be yet but she's still young and has a lot of time until then. everything is going well. with love, y/n

•••

dear cassian, i'm a grandmother. last week, my cassie gave birth to a beautiful boy. the boyfriend that liam didn't like ended up proving himself to us and three years later, he and my little girl tied the knot. my grandson is beautiful, just like his mother. cassie has already taken my place at school and can't stop talking about how excited she is to go back. in a few months, it will be my son's turn to marry with girl who used to be my student. they make a beautiful couple. lucy ended up opening a bookstore and she's so happy. liam and i retired about a year ago and with all our babies out of the house and their lives organized, our house has become emptier and quieter. i'm not a big fan of this, but it's been useful because we have been taking advantage of this time to travel more, like we always wanted to. life has been good to me. with love, y/n

•••

my love, i turned eighty-three today. my family threw me a big surprise party surrounded by family and friends, it was one of the best i've ever had. i already have five grandchildren, did you know? my lucy had her first a few months ago. lately, i've been thinking a lot about the life i've built, about everything i've experienced. time is starting to pass by me, cass, i can feel it in my bones. it hurts me to say that i don't remember you anymore. no matter how hard i try, i can't remember your face or your voice but do you know what i can still remember? that my heart beats for you just as it always has. live well, cass. be happy and when your time comes, look for me in the next life. my heart will forever belong to you. forever yours, your girl, y/n

•••

the letter arrived on a gray morning.

the sun was hidden behind the clouds as if it was too afraid to come say 'hi'.

it was a strange morning, cassian thought.

despite the fact that it was already the last days of summer, pryhtian was still a few weeks away from welcoming the next season.

the inner circle was in the living room having breakfast at the house of wind.

nuala entered the room with a letter sealed that was resting on a white porcelain platter.

a huge smile immediately spread across the general's face.

after all, it was the first thursday of the month and everyone knew what that meant — a letter from you.

cassian didn't wait for nuala to cross the room to him. standing up as quickly as possible, wiping his hands on the pants fabric, cassian walked over to her.

he thanked the half-wraith, still with his mouth full, as he hurried to take the letter out and open it.

a few steps away, sitting at the oak table, his family studied with amusement in their eyes and genuine smiles.

cassian wasn't the only one who looked forward to your letters and the words contained in them — the first thursday of the month was always a day of great excitement for everyone, even for your old chess partner.

but, unfortunately, this wasn't a normal thursday.

the members of the inner circle were quick to notice this when cassian's behavior changed.

how he remained with his back turned, instead of turning around ready to share the letter with them;

how his knees began to weaken, instead of running back to the table smiling;

how his breathing became rapid and strangled, instead of letting out several laughs;

how from one moment to the next, everything changed.

cassian fell to his knees.

a second — that was all it took for his heart to stop.

a strangled sound of pain woke azriel and rhysand from their trances and they ran to their brother's aid.

morrigan and amren followed them, staying just a few steps away from where the three brothers were now on the ground.

four strong arms wrapped around cassian's body, whose chest shook with pain as his tears fell onto the abandoned letter on the floor, blurring the various words written on it.

through their brother's tears, the two males could only make out one sentence that remained untouched.

their hearts were immediately struck, as if someone had ambushed them and stolen a part of them.

tears that matched cassian's gathered in his family's eyes.

grief invaded them in the worst possible way.

you had died in your sleep.

the sun did not shine that day.

•••

she was lost for words.

she would never have imagined the depth of your love story with cassian.

now it all made sense.

the fact that he was scared by the revelation of the bond — the fact that he was insecure and afraid to accept it.

"i need you to understand that a part of my heart will always belong to her."

cassian began by saying, his eyes never meeting nesta's.

"after y/n, i never went back to being with another woma-" clearing his throat, he adjusted his position on the bed "with another female."

"for decades i couldn't even look at another female with that intention. y/n completely disarmed me."

a hoarse laugh escaped his lips "she turned my world upside down. she changed me for the better and showed me a life i never thought i was worthy of. so i need you to understand this before you make a decision about the bond."

his eyes met nesta's face for the first time.

"no matter how many years, decades, centuries pass, i will never, ever stop loving her. she was the one who made my heart beat for the first time, and even after one hundred and seventy-two years since she left this world. . .my heart continues to beat for her and it always will."

for the second time that day, nesta was lost for words.

she couldn't comprehend that kind of love — a love so deep, so true, so powerful.

she hoped that one day she could be blessed and experience it.

even though she knew that cassian would never love her like he loved you — to her surprise, that didn't bother her.

"i understand," a soft smile appeared on her lips and nesta felt relieved when cassian mimicked her, "you really loved her, huh?"

the male nodded several times before confessing out loud "more than life itself."

a moment of silence followed before cassian got up from the bed and walked towards his dresser.

underneath a set of clothes, the male took out a parchment.

on his way to nesta, he held it against his chest as if he was assimilating everything that was happening before stopping in front of her.

"she left you a letter." cassian surprised her and handed her a parchment before retreating to the balcony.

nesta stared at the parchment in her hands for a while, trying to figure out the meaning behind those words.

clarity dawned on her — not for her, but for cassian's future wife.

your consideration warmed her heart. rhysand was right — you really did have a gift for stealing people's hearts.

nesta broke the seal and a sweet smell invaded her space.

honey — your scent, nesta realized. she unrolled the letter and read it.

hello, future lady general, my name is y/n and if you are reading this letter, then i assume that cass has already told you about me. i can see that we are both lucky to have such a male in our lives. i don't know how much about our story cass has already told you but by now you must be aware that i am human. or that i was, depending when you're reading this. even though my heart beats for him, we're not meant to be, so i'm writing this letter to tell you a little bit about this amazing male that rocked my world. he's kind, honest, loyal, loving, funny, and so pretty. even though he thinks 'pretty' is a cheesy word, believe me, he likes it when people call him that. he loves flying at night, especially on summer nights. he's a big fan of music. he loves to eat, but he hates eating alone. it reminds him of his childhood in windhaven, so even if you're not eating, sit with him. he had a rough childhood and sometimes he lets those memories get to him, so on those days don't talk to him, just hug him and show him that you're there for him. he has allergies, a lot of them, so in the spring, make him a green herbal tea, it always works. he loves having his hair brushed and braided (he'll never admit it), especially at night before going to bed, that way he won't wake up with knots in his hair. and he loves kisses. in his cheek, in his nose, in his forehead, in his lips, so whenever you get a chance kiss him. it may be a little difficult at first, he has some difficulty in opening up but don't give up on him, he's worth it. please take care of my cass, he can be a little grumpy sometimes, but he's an incredible male who deserves the stars and so much more. make him laugh, make him smile, make him cry, make him scream, make him feel, make him live. make him my cassian again, and not the cassian he will became when my time in this world comes to an end. love him, appreciate him, enjoy him, protect him, accept him. make him yours. i hope your heart beats for him, just like mine still does. thank you, y/n

tears filled nesta archeron's eyes.

the female needed to take a few deep breaths for her heart to recover from what she had just read.

this letter was the only thing she needed to realize how much you had loved cassian and how easy it had been for him to fall in love with you.

who wouldn't? you seemed perfect.

she found cassian on the balcony with his arms resting on the wall and his head down.

the older archeron sister didn't even want to imagine the pain that her mate had felt throughout these years for his late love.

in that moment, nesta knew that she could never replace you, and not even she wanted that, but she wanted to do exactly what you had left in the letter for her.

to do what, unfortunately, you were only able to do for a short period of time and somehow be able to bring comfort to your soul knowing that your cassian was in good hands.

her gray eyes drifted to the letters that remained on the bed.

her eyes traveled through them but the only thing she could focus on was those pages.

the pages that were proof of cassian's grieve.

the pages that were marked by tears.

a/n: thank you for reading! i fell in love with this story even if it hurt to write some of it.

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